Restless Spirit (9 page)

Chapter Fifteen

We almost didn’t make it and I thought he’d have to take me straight to work. But he dropped me at my car as dusk was purpling the sky and I all but dove into the Grenada. I put my plastic wrapped blueberry cobbler – that had been to die for – on the seat and fired up the car.

Reed knocked on the window just as I was about to put her in gear. I rolled the window down and he leaned in to kiss me. I took the kiss, worrying and secretly hoping that the other two men in my life were watching.

Now what did that say about me?

‘It seems silly,’ he said, still leaning in my open window.

‘What does?’

‘Bringing you here. I could have just taken you to work. I’ll be eating there later anyway.’

‘I like it this way …’ I dropped my words and shrugged.

‘I know. No strings. No attachments. Tuesdays gone with the wind …’ He sang a snippet of the old Lynyrd Skynyrd song to me.

‘Something like that. I just … I’m not that girl. I’m not a settle down girl.’

‘Until you find the right guy,’ he said. ‘I’d lay money on it.’

He kissed the tip of my nose, a surprisingly sweet gesture, and was gone. I rolled up the window and took off fast. The Grenada spat gravel and revved like she liked the fast life. The car was black and tan and very much like the one my mother owned when I was a kid. I’d called it the pimpmobile back in the day.

I made it to the diner with two minutes to spare. Racing in the front door I called my hellos. I dropped my jacket and my purse in the office and tied on an apron. Irv patted my arm, thanked me and thrust an order pad into my hand. Then he said, ‘Work!’

It was only then that I turned to see Shepherd at my table. Big and hulking, looking hungry and pissed and like he had a few things to say.

My body tingled all over but especially my girl parts. I squeezed my thighs together but that only served to fan the flame of arousal that always scorched me when I saw him. Something about Shepherd Moore soothed me, and something else about him put me on edge. Tossed together, those two instinctual reactions made for a heady and confusing cocktail of hormones and emotion.

I steeled myself and walked up to him. ‘Hi, Shepherd. What can I get you?’

He made me wait. Those dark brown eyes running up and down my body. I felt naked and panicky, trapped in that gaze, and it made me angry. Very fucking angry. Responses like this were why I didn’t want to get involved beyond the bedroom.

‘I can come back if you’re not sure,’ I snapped. There must have been real bite in my tone because even Irv looked up from behind the cash register. For his sake, I quickly plastered on a smile.

‘No, no. That’s OK. I guess I was just having trouble making up my mind,’ he said. For the first time ever I heard a very soft, very faint drawl in his voice. It made me wonder if he was from here originally, because the tone almost suggested the deep south. Georgia maybe. ‘I guess I wish I could take a bite of all of it.’

He was fucking with me. He meant men. He knew about Adrian, I was fairly certain. But now something – some intuition that was maddening under my skin like an itch – told me he knew about Reed and that ... that was what was really getting to him.

‘Well, variety is the spice of life,’ I said a bit too peppy. A bit too bubbly. A bit too in-your-face fuck-off.

He frowned but then he smiled. The sudden shift in his demeanour threw me off. ‘Fair enough.’ He shrugged. ‘All’s fair … Just like in love right?’

I blinked. ‘I wouldn’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love. Not really.’ I shifted, feeling less bold and more unnerved by the minute. ‘I’m not a love kind of girl. I think.’

‘Me neither,’ he said. ‘Guy, I mean. There was the one time I thought …’ He caught himself, shook that big head again, reminding me of a bear.

When Shepherd gave me a genuine smile, something in my lower tummy shifted and turned hot and liquid. Irv cleared his throat and I blushed and Shepherd chuckled. That laugh ran up my spine raising every tiny fine hair in its wake. ‘Sorry. I’ll take the meatloaf, mashed potatoes, green beans and sweet tea. See, once you see clearly what it is you want … it’s not so hard to decide.’

I nodded, wanting to run but forcing myself to move at normal speed. I took his menu and his big blunt fingers brushed over mine for a second. The feel of his skin went right to my knees making me forget about cobbler and fucking and even sweet unexpected life confessions in a warm kitchen. It made me forget everything but that first moment his mouth had pressed down over my sodden panties and I felt the heat of his breath on me.

‘OK,’ I said in a shaky voice and then I hustled away. Afraid to look back. Needing to catch my breath.

I hustled around at Irv’s urging to finish the rest of the dinner rush but felt Shepherd’s eyes stay on me. Somehow not angry any more. Now it felt like an affectionate and amused gaze and that weirded me out even more.

I did not want to worry about what he thought. And I certainly did not want to feel happy that he was no longer angry with me. I didn’t want to care one way or the other what he thought. We could fuck. We could eat dinner. We could joke. We could not … care.

‘Here you go. Meatloaf and potatoes and beans and sweet tea,’ I said. My voice high and watery, my body humming like I had swallowed a live wire.

‘Thank you, Tuesday.’

I nodded, not looking right at him. I was so afraid that if I did look right at him, I’d want to kiss him. To touch him. To feel with my hands that we were OK and there was no animosity.

‘You’re welcome.’

He grabbed my wrist as I went to pull back and like some well trained creature I felt my body hum to life and tingle. A warm wet release slipped from my pussy and graced the centre of my cotton panties. He didn’t know … he couldn’t know. And yet, somehow I felt like he did.

‘Yes?’ I whispered.

The door swung open and the bell jingled and I looked up to see my world had just gotten a bit more claustrophobic. A bit more sticky. Reed stood there, mouth rigid, face dark but expressionless. He turned his head and made his way to a booth by the window.

‘I want pie when I’m done.’ Shepherd squeezed my wrist just hard enough to grind those bones. Just hard enough to remind me of his power and what that power did to me. Inside.

‘Oh, OK. What kind?’

He spared Reed a glance but kept his face stolid and unreadable. ‘Cherry of course. Cherry’s my favourite. Sticky, sweet … perfect.’

I knew he meant me. I knew he meant sex. I knew it as surely as I knew I was breathing oxygen and the world was round. But I managed to just say, ‘OK,’ before I turned away.

He squeezed my wrist one more time before I left and I gasped before I could stop myself. He heard it and smiled. I heard it and cringed inside. I glanced at Reed who looked up, frowning. It was clear he had heard it too.

‘Well that was fun, Nan!’ I boomed in my empty house. I dropped my purse onto the sofa – more like threw it – and tilted my head back and screamed into the soaring ceiling.

‘I need a dog!’ I raged. ‘Or a cat!’

I kicked off my boots and slid in stockinged feet to the sideboard and poured a big fat glass of wine.

‘So that I do not sound like a mental person talking to myself. Or my dead grandmother. No offence, Nan,’ I finished.

I took a big swig and laughed. It was all very ridiculous. I was letting them affect me and that was my damn fault.

Someone knocked on the door and I groaned. No. No, no! I did not want to deal with this. And yet, I had to.

I tried the peephole but only saw an arm. Could have been any arm. I cracked the door to see Adrian standing there.

‘You OK?’

He was angry. I could tell.

‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘Just tired.’

He grunted. That meant no sex. Adrian wasn’t stupid. ‘Just checking in.’

‘Thanks. Everything OK out there in the barn?’

‘Getting colder by the day,’ he said.

If that was bait to invite him to stay in the house I wasn’t taking it. I didn’t need a caretaker. Me letting him stay was to be nice and because we had a history. ‘Yeah, fall is in the air,’ I said. ‘Look Adrian, I hope you don’t think–’

He held up a palm to stop me. ‘Don’t. I don’t need the talk,’ he said. ‘I was just checking in. I’m a big boy.’

I smiled and let myself give a little sigh of relief. Then a huge awkward moment slammed down between us and I said, ‘Well, if that’s all, I need to take a shower. It’s been a really bad day.’

‘Sure thing. I’m out in the barn if you need anything.’

‘Hey,’ I said, remembering the potting shed my first night at the house. ‘Have you seen anything in that potting shed?’

He shook his head. ‘Nah. Haven’t even been in there forever. Virginia never needed me in there so I stayed out of her stuff.’

‘Just thought I’d ask.’

‘I can check it if you want me to,’ he said, eager to help.

‘Nope. If there was anything in there, you’d know it. You’re here all day and you’re more in the know than any of us.’

He looked pleased at my assessment and that made me feel better. He finally said good night and turned to leave. I shut the door and locked it but not before a blast of frozen air licked my face.

I drank my wine as I made my way slowly up the steps. I wanted a long hot shower, another wine, a bad movie and maybe a good orgasm. On my own, thank you very much.

I got three out of four.

Chapter Sixteen

I refused to analyse why I pulled Shepherd’s hoodie on with my orange and hot pink flowered pyjama pants. Or why tugging the hood ties tight so the whole thing warmed me made me feel less spooked. Shit, I had no idea why I was spooked to begin with.

Probably too much fucking, too many men in my life, too much stress and then there was the whole brand new life deal. The real question should be, why wouldn’t I be stressed?

I put on one of my favourite horror movies. Probably not the best idea, but beloved movies tended to soothe me regardless of content.

I rummaged through Nan’s pantry and came up with a hot air popper and popcorn. ‘Sweet,’ I said to myself – of course – as I fired it up and poured kernels in to the fill line.

The machine hummed and whirred and I put a big red bowl beneath to catch the end result. Melted butter pooled in the red saucepan and I nearly poured it on myself when I turned to see a face pressed to the kitchen door.

I screamed and the face laughed but then a small knock sounded. ‘Sorry,’ Shepherd called through the glass.

‘Sorry!’ I shouted, ripping the door open. ‘What the fuck do you mean sorry? I almost had a heart attack.’

We stared at each other, me shaking from the sudden shock. Him in the doorway where the wind tossed behind his back like he was an archangel fallen to earth to exact God’s vengeance.

It struck me that’s what Shepherd reminded me off. A warrior. Someone with a quest.

‘Sorry,’ he said again, his eyes tracking over his own damn hoodie.

Shit. Why had I put it on? Why not one of my own fucking sweatshirts or a robe.

‘Hi,’ he said.

‘Hi,’ I breathed. I took a step back instinctively and he moved into the doorway, filling it, before stepping past the threshold and into my kitchen. He kicked the door shut and my nipples spiked to two hard points beneath his well worn clothing.

‘I …’ I shook my head.

‘I came to say I’m sorry.’

‘Why?’ I asked, turning to pour butter on popcorn I didn’t want any more.

‘Because I am sorry. I’m an ass.’

‘You’re all asses aren’t you?’ I said, trying to make a joke.

‘Are we?’

‘I think so. Maybe it comes with the penis.’

He gave me a half grin. ‘Or maybe it shows up with a woman like you. Women like you tend to make men like us stupid and caveman in demeanour.’

‘Women like me?’

‘Good women.’

I shook my head. ‘I’m not.’

‘You are.’

Somehow he’d walked into my kitchen, filled my field of vision and had me pinned, butt against the counter. ‘Wrong.’

I slipped free of him and made my way into the great room. On the screen Neve Campbell screamed and a man in a smiling mask ran after her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said from the doorway.

I nodded. ‘I heard.’

‘I had no right–’

‘It’s not you–’ I started, but he cut me off with a big guffaw.

‘It’s you?’ he finished.

I nodded. ‘It is. I’m tainted. I’m damaged. I was with a man like Phil and it … demolished me for the whole love scenario.’

‘Who said I could even love you?’ he countered.

I blinked. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’ I took a step back and he took a step forward.

‘I’m not built for love either, Tuesday. I was once. But it was ruined for me.’

‘She broke your heart?’ I asked, shocked to think of him as vulnerable and realising that was stupid. We’re all vulnerable somehow.

‘That depends on what you mean by broke my heart.’ His hands found the ties I’d already tugged tight and he used them as leads to pull me to him.

I could have fought. I didn’t.

His mouth was so close to mine I could smell mint on his breath. I could count the hairs bursting through his sun-darkened skin if I had the time and patience. I didn’t. ‘She left you for another man?’

‘No.’

‘She cheated with your best friend?’ I gasped.

‘No.’ His lips grazed my jaw and then his teeth did too.

‘She said she’d marry you and then ran off?’

He paused and then said, ‘No.’ Taking my ass in his big hands, he squeezed gently. Palming my cheeks with a strength that was exhilarating and scary to boot.

‘What then?’

He pulled his head back to look at me. I could see – despite time that must have passed for him – pain in those dark, dark eyes. ‘She fell out of love with me.’

‘What did you do?’ I asked, confused.

Falling out of love with a man like Shepherd? A man who exuded strength and kindness and all the stuff in between. The man who’d made me dinner because he made me cry. The man who smiled at me though I’d hurt him – intentionally or not. The man who was here confessing to me though it must be killing him.

‘That’s the whole damn reason, cupcake,’ he said. He crushed me to the back of my sofa as someone on the TV screamed. His cock was hard, riding the cleft of my sex. His hands squeezed my bottom again and he nudged into me so my body burst with a hint of the pleasure I could have should I just take my damn pants off.

‘She just fell out of love?’

He nodded. His lips crushed against mine and I parted my lips for him. His tongue thrust sensually, bullying me with his kiss. Fingers curled to my hips and he rocked into me again giving me another short burst of arousal. My toes tingled and I shivered.

‘Are you cold, Tuesday?’

‘No. I’m just …’ I shook my head. ‘She just fell out of love? She just … left?’

He pressed his lips together hard but then he smiled. ‘That’s it.’

‘That’s crazy.’

‘But true,’ he said. ‘Now tell me, if you’re not cold … what are you?’

‘I’m horny,’ I said bluntly.

He grinned and ducked down. I was confused for a moment until he caught me on the up-thrust. Shepherd tossed me over his shoulder like a toy and carried me up my steps.

‘Where are we going?’

‘To your bed.’

‘Oh,’ I said, relaxing against him. My body confused by the hot and cold feeling of being in his grip, but hot was winning.

‘Unless you don’t want me,’ he said. He had frozen, me over his shoulder, all of him tense under me.

‘Take me upstairs, Shepherd. I haven’t not wanted you since we met.’

He made a sound that indicated he was pleased. But it also sounded a tiny bit sceptical.

She just fell out of love …

How bad must that hurt? It hurts when someone leaves you for a reason, but for there to be no reason. I shook my head. I simply couldn’t imagine.

He tossed me – yes tossed – but somehow gently so that I landed on my soft bed with a flustered sigh. My hair swam around me and I watched the mammoth, gruff and bearded figure that was Shepherd Moore. The light from the balcony backlit him and he looked angelic again. A rogue angel with a mission.

I parted my legs without thinking. Wriggled.

He unbuttoned his black and grey flannel, watching me. Straight faced and stern but I realised that with this man I always felt something I rarely felt. Almost never even pondered.

Safe.

I felt safe with Shepherd. As scary as he seemed, as warned off as I’d been. I pushed the thought away as he grabbed each of my ankles in his big hands and tugged me ever so slightly toward him.

‘I heard you were a sexual deviant,’ I told him.

He froze. And then he surprised me by chuckling so long and so loud he straightened up and tossed his head back.

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Yeah. From more than one person,’ I said, toeing his flat taut belly with my foot. He grabbed it and yanked me toward him harder.

I squawked, my best impression of a jungle bird, and that made us both laugh.

I shimmied to my belly, crawled to him, faced him on my knees. ‘What do they mean?

‘I think they mean they are as vanilla as nursing home pudding.’

I put my head down and swallowed a giggle. Shepherd grabbed hunks of my hair in his hand and moved my head so I had to look at him. ‘Why do you ask, Tuesday?’

I shrugged, wanting so badly to seem nonchalant. But inside of me my emotions warred and twisted, my pussy grew wetter and I felt such a craving I could crawl out of my skin. ‘I was just wondering,’ I said on a breath. Then I chewed my lips to keep myself calm.

His eyes zeroed in on where my teeth met my flesh and he put my hand on his cock. He still wore his jeans and his belt. His boots he’d kicked off by the door. His shirt hung open and the smell of him – whatever the secret scent of Shepherd was, I could never put my finger on it – filled my head. I smoothed my fingers against his erection and he looked just a touch more stoic if that was even possible.

‘Why do you ask?’

‘I wanted to know.’

‘Do you want something, Tuesday?’

‘No,’ I lied.

‘Are you sure?’

I looked into the black depths of his eyes, surreally dark and shaded in the low light of my room. ‘I …’

He popped his button fly by pulling the fabric and opening them all in one long yank. ‘Tell me,’ he said. When his cock was free, he put just the right amount of pressure on the back of my head. No pushing. Not bullying. Guiding. It was more like he was giving me permission more than anything.

Permission I gladly took.

I leaned in and pressed my face to him. Smelling the salty, warm cotton smell of his body and relishing it. I pressed my cheek to his cock and finally moved my head to drop a kiss on the tip. Just the tip.

I felt the wetness there and darted out my tongue to collect the tiny prize of his precome.

‘Jesus. You make me crazy,’ he said.

A thrill worked through me and I smiled. There was that rush of power that came with making a strong man bend, a stern man shake.

I didn’t respond, just let my hair swim and sway around my face as I took as much of his hard length into my mouth as I could. I sucked gently and then even more gently scraped my teeth along his fragile flesh

He yanked my hair and I whimpered but kept sucking.

‘I’m going to flip you over and fuck you until your knees buckle if you keep doing that.’ His voice was a predatory growl in the dark.

God, I hoped he was telling the truth.

I went down as far as I could. Letting him fill my throat, walking the fine line of my gag reflex. But if I sucked air through my nose I could get him deeper and his visceral response was to thrust just a touch into my waiting mouth.

I swirled my tongue and danced it over him but he pulled me back, still using my hair as a leash. ‘Why did you ask me?’ he demanded.

‘I wanted to know.’

‘Do you want something?’

I flashed back to sex with Phil before he’d turned into a douche. We’d experimented with some pain play. I had submitted. But when his need to hurt moved outside of the bedroom –outside of his control – I had dropped it. I hadn’t trusted anyone since then beyond a little hair tug or gentle to moderate slaps on the ass. Normal sex shit.

I trusted Shepherd. I trusted him so much it frightened me and stole my words. I shook my head, oddly on the verge of tears.

He caught the look and dropped to his knees, bringing us eye to eye.

‘Tell me.’ It wasn’t a request.

‘I want you to hurt me.’

He blinked. ‘Do you, now?’

‘Yes.’

‘How?’

I shook my head. Looked away. That wasn’t for me to decide. Not if I really wanted to feel that rush of submitting to someone’s will. He had to decide.

‘I can’t tell you that,’ I said, eyes averted.

I caught his smile in my peripheral vision. ‘Christ. You fuck with my head. How about we punish you? How about you pay for what you did to me earlier?’

He yanked my pyjama pants down and ripped them free. The zipper of his hoodie screamed when he yanked it down fast and hard. He turned me suddenly, his grips sure but a bit rough.

‘What did I do to you earlier?’ I gasped, aroused, in need and so fucking confused.

His hands positioned me up on to hand and knee and there it was. That proprietary touch on my ass. He smoothed his callused hand along the swell of one ass cheek and then the other. As the first blow fell I heard him grunt, ‘I saw him fucking you. In your kitchen. I saw you with that twat, Reed.’