Escaping the Past (Wester Farms) (7 page)

BOOK: Escaping the Past (Wester Farms)
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Brody circled the building and pulled into a parking space. “We’ll bring her next time. Come on,” he said, shutting off the car and opening his door.

 

They walked up to the counter together. Lou ordered a scoop of chocolate and a scoop of sherbet on the same cone. Brody ordered plain vanilla in a cup. “I thought you had an adventurous spirit,” she commented playfully.

 

“I have an adventurous spirit. I just don’t have a cast
-
iron stomach. How can you eat those flavors together?” He shivered dramatically.

 

“You don’t eat them together. You eat them separate
ly
. If you are lucky, they mix a little as they melt.” They took a seat outside the Dairy Barn at a picnic table. Rather than sit on the bench, she climbed on top of the table and sat down. He eyed her skeptically for a moment and then joined her. They sat in companionable silence for a short time. The lights flickered off at the Dairy Barn. It was obviously after the ten
o’clock
closing time. The area was devoid of other cars and people. “We had better go,” she said, her
half-eaten
ice cream in one hand.

 

He waved impatiently at her. “We have plenty of time. I want to finish my boring old cup of vanilla,”
his voice dripping with heavy sarcasm
.

 

She sank back down on the tabletop, her feet on the bench below. Her elbows rested on top of her knees. “Mine is much better than yours.” Her
attempt at a
singsong voice and
a
teasing tone were muffled by her tongue swirling the cone.

 

“I don’t know how it could be. Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when you fainted?” He reached over and placed the back of his hand on her forehead as though checking for a fever.

 

“Positive. Here.” She held her cone out to him. “Try it.”

 

“Nuh-uh. It’s much more fun watching you. I’ll stick with vanilla.”

 

“Sure?” she asked pleasantly, extending her cone toward him again.

 

“Oh, al
l
right,” he finally acquiesced with a big smile. He grabbed her hand to steady the cone and took a bite of the sherbet. “Not bad,” he said, nodding his head.

 

She extended the cone again. “Now you have to try it with the chocolate.”

 


That’s disgusting.

He
chuckled.

 

She extended the cone again and he once more took her hand. He bit a section of the chocolate scoop at the bottom of the cone. “You’re not going to get me to try them combined no matter how cute you look doing that.”

 

“You think I look cute?” she asked as her tongue swirled around the section where the two flavors met.

 

“You know you look cute,” he mumbled under his breath as he watched her swirl the two flavors with her tongue again. “Would you stop that?” he asked more loudly.

 

“Stop what?” Her tongue stopped in mid
-
swirl.

 

“Never mind,” he snapped, standing up quickly.

 

“Are you mad at me?”
He rolled his eyes and groaned heavily
. “I offered to share my cone.”

 

“You can’t be as innocent as you seem,” he mumbled. He took a deep breath. “I want to try the two flavors mixed
.

H
is voice deepened as he moved to stand before her. Chocolate and sherbet glistened on her lips. She extended the cone again but he caught her wrist and deflected it. Instead, he moved closer to her knees and met her lips with his. His tongue gently and tenderly flicked against her closed lips, tasting the flavors of her cone. “Mmm…”
he
growl
ed
. “I think I like it.”

 

Her breath caught in her throat at the simple assault on her senses. “What
-

H
er words were smothered by his lips as they closed more fully over hers.

 

“Can I have some more?” he asked playfully against her mouth. He stepped back slightly and she unwittingly raised her cone back to her mouth, her wrist clasped in his large hand as he guided the cone back to her lips. She swirled her tongue around the cone again. His mouth once again descended and met hers.
He
groan
ed
again.

 

“Mmm…that is good.” He dropped his own cup of ice cream on the sidewalk as his hand cupped her face, his fingers splayed toward her ear. His thumb touched her chin lightly, pressing insistently until her mouth opened under the pressure. She gasped softly, her indrawn breath bringing his tongue further into her mouth. He retreated slightly but did not remove his lips from hers. “You taste sweet,” he said against her mouth.

 

Her only answer was a small whimper
,
as his tongue touched her lips again and traced a circle from lower to upper lips. His hands touched her calves and ran up behind her jean
-
clad knees. He very slowly spread her knees so he could stand between them. He reached around to the back of her jeans and pulled her bottom toward him so that she sat on the edge of the table.

 

His mouth continued the slow assault on her senses. His tongue probed gently and moved around her teeth. “Kiss me back,” he whispered against her mouth. Her tongue rose to meet his
and he made a rumbling little noise that skittered across her skin
. He pulled her tighter against him. Her hand rose to touch his chest
,
the other still holding the ice cream cone.

 

Lou jumped when their kiss was cut short by the two-second peal of a siren. Brody broke the kiss, opened his eyes and noticed a police car parked ten feet from their perch on the table. Lou tucked her face against his neck in embarrassment.

 

“You kids want to move on out? It’s getting late,” the officer said through the open window. Lou smiled, trying to contain a giggle against his neck. A quick glance up showed her Brody was grinning too.

 

“Yes, sir. We’ll be moving on out,” he replied with a quick wave.

 

Brody lifted Lou’s free hand from his chest and held it as she climbed off the table. She was a little unsteady on her feet. “You okay?” he asked gently, pressing the back of her hand against his lips.

 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Her legs felt like water but she would never admit it. He opened the passenger side door of the Jeep and she slid in, still clutching the melting ice cream cone.
She
started to lick the dripping streams of ice cream from the cone.

 

Brody crossed to the driver’s side and slid into his seat. He started the Jeep and turned to look at Lou, her tongue once again swirling around the cone.

 

“Oh, Jesus,” he
groaned
. He took the ice cream cone from her hand and tossed it out the window.

 

“Wha
t did you
do that for?”
She probably sounded like a whiny brat. But that was her ice cream for goodness sake
.

 

“Never mind,” he ground out as he again reached over and removed her sticky hand from her lap. He clasped it loosely in his own larger hand between them on the console.

 

The ride home was spent in companionable silence, the havoc of the day finally taking a toll on them both. Brody stopped the Jeep and turned off the ignition He squeezed her hand
tightly
. “Thanks again for sitting with me,” he said gently, removing his hand from hers. Her only response was a slight nod.

 

They walked up the back porch steps together. He held the door for her. Sadie and Jeb were waiting up, sharing a pot of coffee at the kitchen table.

 

Jeb rose from his chair and turned to Brody. “How is she?” At the same time, Lou went to Sadie and walked into the old woman’s arms. The stress of the day fell from Lou’s body like the slow rain of her tears. Sadie patted her back and cooed to her like she was a child again. Jeb held out a handkerchief that was always in his back pocket. She took it and dried her eyes, thoroughly mortified to have been caught crying by Brody.

 

“Where’s Sarah?” she asked softly.

 

“She’s in our bed,” Jeb said. “Do you want me to go and get her?”

 

“No. I can do it. You just stay here.”

 

Lou walked from the kitchen to the long hallway that led to Jeb and Sadie’s apartment on the lower level. She retrieved Sarah from atop the covers on their bed. The child did not wake as she lifted her but just wrapped her legs around Lou’s waist. Lou placed her hands beneath her bottom and boosted her a little higher. Like most old homes, the stairway was centered around the kitchen so she had to walk back to where the family was seated.

 

Brody looked up from his coffee where he sat at the table with Jeb and Sadie and smiled softly at her as she walked by with the sleeping child tucked against her.

 



Night,” she said softly as she turned to go up the stairs.

 



Night,” he said in response.

 

Lou hauled the sleeping child up the stairs and entered her room. Once she was safely stowed beneath the covers, Lou kissed her forehead and walked through the bathroom that connected the two bedrooms. She typically slept with the adjoining door open so she could hear Sarah in the night.

 

Lou shed the worries of the day as she shed her clothes and stepped beneath the spray of the shower.
T
he warm water wash
ed
away her worries. Her fears for Mrs. Wester began to diminish as she reminded herself that her mentor and friend was in good hands at the hospital. She lathered her hair with a lavender shampoo and washed her body with a soap that smelled vaguely the same. It was revitalizing and yet helped to relax her at the same time.

 

She stepped from the steaming shower onto a bath mat and rubbed the mirror clean with a towel. She dried her body with the same towel and then bent at the waist so her hair fell forward
,
allowing her to wrap it, turban style. She looked in the mirror and noted she looked reasonably good
,
even though she was still pale and tired.

 

She padded across the floor on bare feet and retrieved matching pajama shorts and a strappy pajama top. She unwound her hair from the towel and ran a brush through it. She looked at the hair dryer but then dismissed the idea. She decided, instead, to open the door to the portico and step out into the fresh air and let the wind blow-dry her hair.

 

In true antebellum style, the home had porches on both levels
,
and each bedroom had a separate entrance onto the porch. Outside each door sat double rocking chairs that faced the night. Lou quietly opened the door to her room and stepped out into the darkness. She chose not to turn on the porch light, preferring the glow of the moon over thousands of tiny bugs that would attack if she turned the light on. She sat down in one of the low-backed rocking chairs and hung her streaming mass of wet hair over the back so it swayed as she rocked gently. The small wind was a blessing after a hot day. The gentle motion of the rocking chair lulled her and eased some of the tension from her body. The creaking rockers on the chair sang a comforting tune. Lou closed her eyes and thought of the events of the day.

 

She felt like she had been rode hard and put up wet.

 

She had spent the day with a man who was at first accusing, then apologetic. He made her tremble, both with anger and with passion. She pressed her fingers to her lips, remembering the feel of his mouth against hers.
He must think I am such a
child
.
He had obviously had lovers before. Any idiot could tell he had experience. Unlike her, he had probably had more lovers than he had fingers and toes. She wondered if her lack of experience was obvious. It had to be. Not once, but twice, he had thrown out the bait and she took it like a starving mouse goes for rat poison. She was her mother’s daughter after all.

 

That thought caused the acidic taste of bile to rise up in her throat. She swallowed it back as the ramifications of her actions hit her in full force.
I behaved like my mother.
She let her emotions and physical desires override her good sense and
she
was making a fool of herself in the process.

BOOK: Escaping the Past (Wester Farms)
8.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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