Restless Spirit (15 page)

Chapter Twenty-seven

Two hundred dollars later, we were headed home.

‘This food better last me about a year,’ I said. ‘I think that was all the money on my bank card.’

A look of concern flashed over his face and I laughed. ‘I’m kidding. Plus, Reed, there’s a settlement from Nan’s will. And oh, hey, let’s not forget my pay check from Irv.’

The concern was replaced with relief and I patted his leg. ‘But thanks for worrying.’

‘You know if you ever need money. If there’s ever an issue you can come to me,’ he said.

‘Sure. You’re my friend,’ I said. Not telling him that I’d rather eat the gravel we were driving on than ask most folks for help.

Reed’s lips compressed to a thin line and he said, ‘Yeah, we’re friends.’

Then I realised what I had said. That I had somehow offended. He pulled into my drive and I glanced at the barn which looked deserted – Adrian’s small blue pickup was nowhere to be seen – and then the potting shed which looked completely harmless. What was I so worried about. How had I become so spooked?

We carried the bags to the house in twos and threes. I’d insisted on buying some of Cooper’s reusable burlap bags. So much more fun than the plastic ones made in the city. Each was stamped in a different coloured ink to resemble a bulk package of coffee or rice or beans.

The final trip and I dropped my bag. Reed put the final grocery sack down and began to crawl around to retrieve my crap.

‘Great,’ I growled.

‘No big deal.’ Reed shoved a make-up case toward me and then a pad with a pen. Lipsticks, hair clips, a bandana, tampons, earrings and then he was clutching a small clear pouch.

‘Um–’

‘I recognise all the other female debris but what is …’ His face broke out into a wildly thrilled grin when he accidentally hit the button and the pocket vibe jumped to life. ‘Nice.’

‘Give me that,’ I growled and made a grab for it.

Reed was too fast, he pulled his hand back and up and the small toy continued to buzz merrily while I blushed like a fool. I sat back, legs folded under me, and sighed.

‘So this is for sexual emergencies?’ he asked. Thankfully he’d dropped his voice and leaned in instead of shouting. Not that anyone was around to hear right now. But still.

‘Reed …’

He was fast. He pressed the toy, still in its case, to my thigh and I felt the buzz sound through me, thrilling me. ‘Do you like this little toy?’

‘Yes,’ I said, trying to remain calm and straight faced. I got to my feet and I brushed my jeans off. ‘I am a grown woman who likes sex and has a vibrator in her purse. I am also a grown woman who is going to go put her groceries away before her meat spoils and her ice cream melts.’

Then I turned and stalked to the house leaving him where he sat.

‘Fine!’ he called good naturedly. ‘But you are no fun, Tuesday Cane!’ And then he followed me into my house.

Everything was put away when I heard the thing jump to life. I was hanging my jacket on a hook in the cubby off the great room that Nan had used as an office.

‘Give that back,’ I said, half heartedly.

‘This?’ And then he pressed the button. On-off-on-off. So the small thing went buzz–buzz … buzz–buzz like a bumble bee with ADD.

‘Yes, that,’ I snorted. Reaching for him. My hand sank into his yellow and grey chequered shirt and I tugged. We were playing. No big deal.

Reed surged forward. I hadn’t expected him to do that. I’d expected some good natured tugging and pulling and whatnot.

Instead he had me pinned to the office wall with his free hand and the rest of his lean self. ‘I told you, I can’t–’

‘Fuck me,’ he said. His words were blunt but his gaze was complicated. ‘Who said anything about fucking?’

Buzz–buzz … buzz–buzz …

‘Reed, I–’

His dark brown eyes were hooded with a hunger when he pulled back to look at me. Clean shaven and smooth under my fingertips his skin was hot. I meant to keep him from kissing me. But his mouth was a pale pink pout and his eyes were so warm and he said ‘You’re the first woman in a long time to really make me … miss her when she’s not around.’

Oh God. He missed me, too? The fear I felt at all my twisted emotions for Shepherd reared up and bit me. I needed to come down, detangle, disengage.

I kissed him. I kissed him and he found his opening, pressing solid against me, stalling my breath and forcing the hard crest of his cock to my pussy through our clothes. It was breathtaking, the feel of him. The thrill of breaking my own personal rule.

‘No fucking,’ I said, my voice little puffs of air.

‘Fine, fine.’ He pulled my top up exposing my pale pink bra and ripped the cup down so he could get at my nipple. Teeth clamped down on that tender pale flesh and I hissed, my fingers curling into his silken brown hair.

I wanted to say a million things right then but said none of them. The pleasure ate up every clever thing I had to say and I simply moulded myself into his embrace, pressing my breast to his seeking mouth.

‘It’s that fucking cage fighter, isn’t it?’ he said almost to himself.

He’d dropped to his knees, exposing a wide band of bare skin above my waistband that he proceeded to nuzzle and bite and lick. My pussy flexed wetly, my skin erupting in goose flesh. A fine tremor worked through my body and I felt the fine hairs along my scalp sway.

‘Don’t talk … about … just don’t. Please,’ I said. If he started talking Shepherd, I was done for.

He nodded, somehow understanding that and popped the button on my jeans. Shoving the denim down, he scraped one hipbone and then the other with his teeth so that my body went on high alert, my nipples painfully hard, my breath thin and panting.

He got my jeans off after I kicked off my clogs and put his mouth to my mound. ‘Open your legs.’

I did. Taking one step out to the side so my body opened for him. Reed pressed the whole of his mouth to my pussy and licked.

I grabbed his shoulders for support and let him lick me with a force that pressed me back to the wall. He held my hips steady and drove his tongue into my cunt so my knees threatened to buckle and dump me on my ass.

‘Reed, I–’

‘Be quiet, Tuesday.’

He was working his belt and his jeans, pulling them down around his hips and I had a flash of fear that he’d try to fuck me. And then a flash of fear that I’d let him. Because part of me was sure I would.

His hand slid along the curve of his erection and I realised he was going to jack off while he ate me. A very naughty thrill galloped through my stomach and I gasped.

Reed nibbled my clit while pressing his forearm to my belly to hold me still. Then he pulled back forcefully, cock still in hand to grab something from his jeans.

The toy.

It was out of the plastic case and buzzing before I could question him. He dipped it between my legs to get it wet and then touched it to my clit.

I had no words. I just said, ‘Oh.’

Reed’s fingers were cool and long as he slid two into my cunt, pressing the dancing toy to my clitoris as he thrust. I tried to grab the panelled wall but my fingers skittered and skimmed the smooth surface finding no purchase.

‘I’m going to come,’ I confessed. Realising that I had sworn off fucking but he’d found this dirty alternative anyway. It fuelled my orgasm. I was hopeless – shameless and wicked and cruel.

Shepherd’s face flashed in my mind. Him pinning me to his work bench, my feet resting on the edge, my cunt open for his examination. His eyes eating me before he fucked me.

I came. Reed’s fingers nudging my G-spot with expert ease, the toy buzzing a line of heated bliss through my pussy. I thought he was done. He wasn’t.

Reed turned the toy off, set his mouth back to me and began licking up the wet evidence of my orgasm. He shoved a hand between my legs, rubbing me, getting his fingers wetter. Then he started to masturbate again, his now slick hand making sinister sexual noises against his cock.

I made a small sound when he sucked my clit hard and then thrust his tongue into my juicy pussy. ‘Come with me. Come for me again,’ he demanded.

I watched him handle his cock, his fingers pulling and twisting and moving much harder than I ever would have had I been the one jerking him off. He tugged to the right it seemed but just the sound and the sight of him tugging at all had me sinking down the wall in the grips of the first tentative flickers of orgasm.

‘Jesus, Reed ...’

‘Yes, ma’am?’ he teased. But then he groaned, the rumble vibrating his teeth against my mound and the sensation of his noise filled my pelvis.

‘I’m coming,’ I said softly and grabbed twin hunks of his hair and pulled.

That did it. He gave a final jerk with his well manicured hand and a spray of semen flew across my lower legs. He moved just a bit, still keeping his mouth on me, and the final jet went a bit higher.

His come was as warm and wet on my skin as his mouth. The final spasm twisted in me and the heat in my womb started to subside. I tugged that luxurious hair again and said. ‘You are so fucking confusing.’

Reed looked up and grinned, his mouth smeared with my wetness, cock still in hand. ‘Ditto, kid.’

Chapter Twenty-eight

‘Sorry, Irv.’ I hustled in and literally tossed my bag into the office onto a chair.

‘Sorry for what?’ He handed me my apron.

‘I’m late.’

He looked up at the clock showing a slice of pie. ‘By what? A minute?’

I grinned. ‘Yeah.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Jeesh. If only they were all as conscientious as you.’

‘I’m a keeper,’ I teased. Outside the doors, people from out of town were already lining up to eat. I wiped down a few tables.

‘You doing OK with the insanity of apple time?’ He was doing his best to buff the countertop spotless.

‘I think it’s good for me to be busy right now,’ I said.

In the kitchen the cook was singing to the radio. La Bamba had never sounded so fun. I laughed. Irv rolled his eyes again. ‘He’s a great cook. Can’t carry a tune in a bucket, though.’

I moved on to the next table and watched more folks join the throng waiting outside. ‘Do you put drugs in the food, Irv?’ I asked. I smiled at him.

‘What?’ he yelped.

I nodded to the crowd. ‘Look at that.’

‘Oh.’ He chuckled. ‘We serve the only decent burger and fries for miles, is all. So you need to be busy?’

He flipped the conversation back to me and it flustered me a bit. ‘Yeah.’

‘Missing Virginia are you?’

My throat tightened up and I tried to shake off the blanket of emotion that settled over me. ‘Yeah, some. OK, a lot.’

I moved on to the final table and he came up behind me to pat my shoulder. ‘We all do, kiddo. It’s normal for you to miss her a lot. So don’t feel bad about feeling bad. A new life takes time to break in. Just like shoes.’

I stared into his friendly face and wondered about him and Nan again. For some reason the thought of him wooing her made me very happy. ‘Like shoes,’ I echoed.

Irv went to unlock the door and in the jostling cluster of people I thought I saw a flash of a familiar face. But as fast as it appeared, it was gone.

The fine hairs on my nape stood at attention and my stomach bottomed out some.

I was back to freaking myself out it seemed.

Ten o’clock had never looked so good. Despite searching the apparently starving crowd repeatedly I saw no one I knew. No dark figure lurking around the corner to come and get me. No boogie man, no ex, no stalker.

The Grenada chewed up bits of the lakeshore road, spitting gravel here and there as I went. The barn and the potting shed still appeared abandoned. My story was calling – shockingly I was eager to get back to it. Even though it felt sort of full of angst to me, all the bullshit writers write about when they’re trying to process their fear and pain.

‘I also have some pot roast, new potatoes, soft carrots and vanilla pudding waiting for me,’ I whispered patting my dinner packed by Irv himself.

I made myself walk normally from car to door. Made myself unlock the door and slip inside as if nothing in the world were bothering me and none of my bells and whistles of anxiety were going off.

‘It’s living in a big house alone and missing you, Nan,’ I said aloud, locking the door. ‘And desperately needing a dog. Maybe a big one. A pit bull, or better yet a German Shepherd.’

Shepherd.

‘I could name him Tiny,’ I snickered.

In the kitchen, I unpacked my meal, put on a pot of water to boil for tea and poured some wine. I’d eat, shower and then pass the time the way many, many writers – wannabe and otherwise – before me had passed an evening. Slugging down drinks and writing pretty words.

I wrote GO TO SHELTER on the small dry erase magnet board on Nan’s fridge. At the top she had written my phone number at the boarding house. It appeared to be the last thing she wrote on the board before she died.

I dialled Annie while the water boiled. The phone rang and rang and rang but no one answered. She was probably out drinking beer at Jimmy C’s and playing Keno with her man. The machine greeted me and I simply said, ‘It’s me. Checking in on y’all. Love.’

Then I hung up. There was a face at the window and I screamed, dropping my wine. Now would be a really, really good time for that dog named Tiny. I kept waiting for the figure, distorted by the pebbled privacy glass, to wave or laugh or yell out a greeting. Instead it stayed still and did nothing. Finally, it turned away.

Man. That had been all I could tell of the figure.

I grabbed the ever present bat – propped in the corner of the kitchen where I’d stored it –and took off out the back door. Part of me had tempered my knee jerk nature and let him have a head start. On the side of the house I heard a noise and I rounded the corner, bat brandished. Adrian was facing me with a Maglite in one hand and a chunk of wood in the other.

‘What the fuck!’ I screamed at him, losing my cool. ‘Are you trying to scare the shit out of me?’’

He stalked toward me, his face angry in the weird streaks of pure white light from his flashlight. ‘What are you talking about? I saw someone around here and came to help you for fuck’s sake, Tuesday. I am the caretaker. Until you fire me. I’m taking some goddamn care.’

My rant stalled out and I stood there, anger wavering. Was he telling the truth? Had he seen someone or had he been the person at my door? I simply didn’t know. I remembered why Adrian and I hadn’t worked out to begin with. He’d been a bit too needy in the knight in shining armour department. He had required constant reassurance of any affectionate feelings for him, his prowess in bed and his appearance. It had been too much high maintenance stroking for me.

‘I’m going in.’

‘Wait, Tuesday, are you OK?’

‘I’m pissed. I’m hungry. I’m cold and I’m tired. But yes. I’m fine.’

I started to walk away and he grabbed my arm. ‘Do you need me to stay inside?’

I grinned. Was that what this had been about? Had he baited me so I would want him in the house?

‘No,’ I said. ‘Thanks. I don’t need you.’

Even in the dark I could see the war of hurt and anger and petulance cross his face. ‘I just bet you don’t need anyone, now do you, Tuesday?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t.’

I slipped back inside and pulled the kitchen door shut behind me. I locked it, kicking aside a bunch of leaves that blew inside. ‘Good way to stay safe, Tuesday,’ I said. ‘Leave your damn door wide open.’

I poured my tea, picked at my food and finally stored most of it, giving into the temptation to just eat the pudding.

Four new pages into my story, which was becoming way longer than just a story, and the phone rang. The house phone.

I grabbed it assuming it was Annie calling me back. ‘Hey there. I hope you’re behaving because I sure am not,’ I laughed.

‘Good to know,’ the voice rumbled.

Shepherd.

‘Oh, hi,’ I said.

‘So, tell me. What exactly are you up to?’

I threw myself back on the sofa, put my feet on the back of the cushions and started to tell him. All about the apple people, the busy diner, the man and the window. About finding Adrian outside and the bat and my anger. And the pages. He was the only one I told about the pages.

‘Do you need me to come home?’ he asked. He’d gotten very quiet when I told him about the man and running out and lugging a baseball bat around in the dark.

I paused, almost saying yes. Yes … it was on the tip of my tongue. And when I realised it, I was so terrified by the urge that seeing the figure at my back door seemed like nothing more upsetting than a spilled drink or an unexpected sneeze. True need scared me more than strangers, I now realised.

I wanted him to come home. I wanted him to be here so I’d feel safe. I wanted him to come and take care of me – and I hated myself for it. I hurriedly said, ‘No, no, no – you do your thing. Charity is more important than some stupid stalking caretaker.’

‘Are you sure it was him?’ he asked, his voice low – he was trying very hard to control it, I could tell. And he didn’t sound convinced.

‘Completely,’ I said. ‘And don’t worry. I can handle Adrian. I did it last time, I can do it again.’

When I hung up it hit me. I knew that I’d just lied to Shepherd. That was a no brainer. What I hadn’t realised until his voice was gone was that I felt guilt over it. I didn’t like lying to Shepherd and I really did want him to come home – now – and the thought of him home made me feel safe in my skin.

I poured myself more wine. ‘You know what that means,’ I said to the TV that was showing a sitcom starring Betty White.

‘You. Are. Fucked.’