Caught Up in the Touch (10 page)

She sat up and leaned back on her hands, staring into the treetops. The beat of wings and the rustle of leaves as the birds landed whooshed under the cutting cries. He didn’t move, not wanting to spook the birds. He’d never experienced the unusual gathering, had only heard Ada talk about seeing one when she was a child.

She turned to him, her eyes huge. Her mouth opened, but he held a finger against his lips and gestured her back to the ground. She lay on her side, facing him.

He had to raise his voice above a whisper to be heard over the now dozens of crows ringing the meadow. They blacked out the treetops, the branches curving inward like the spokes of an umbrella.

“We’re witnessing a murder of crows.”

“Murder?” She mouthed the word, and then said aloud, “What are they saying to each other, do you think?”

He was relieved to see wonder in her eyes, not fear. Too many people feared crows, considered them harbingers of death. “Maybe they’re talking about where to find food or shelter. Maybe the location of a predator.”

“Why did you call it a murder?”

“According to an old wives’ tale, they’re passing judgment on one of their own. That crow will be put to death if found guilty.”

“How macabre.”

She rolled to her back, scooting so her shoulder nudged against his. He dropped his hand to lie between them, palm up. His breathing rate picked up, wondering, hoping, the nerves and excitement of the moment tumbling his stomach. Her fingertips brushed down his wrist, and he froze. Only when their palms connected and their fingers entwined did he breathe again.

For another ten minutes, the bizarre ritual continued until, in droves, the crows flew off in all different directions. Silence wrapped around the meadow like a fairy’s spell. He didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to shatter the illusion.

He closed his eyes and squeezed her hand. Songbirds returned and the wind rustling the leaves filled the void.

She whispered, “That was amazing. I suppose you see that sort of thing all the time.”

“Never. It was incredible. I’m glad you were here with me, otherwise no one would believe it. You can go back and tell your city kin you witnessed a rare country murder.”

She chuckled and flung her free arm over her head in a pose of total relaxation. The sun covered them like a blanket, hot but not oppressive. A few minutes passed before she said, “If I wasn’t with you, what would you be doing?”

“I don’t do anything of much use out here but commune with Mother Nature. Sometimes Falcon can be … claustrophobic. I don’t want to sound like a sack of new-age junk, but time out here keeps my life in balance.” He tensed, wondering if he’d supplied her with an unintentional weapon against him.

A yawn was her reply. Her eyes had closed, her breathing growing deep and even. With a patience and stillness learned through hunting, he didn’t move.

Her face softened, her mouth slightly parted. A soft snuffle made him smile. After a half-hour, he extricated his hand from hers and propped himself up on an elbow, his cheek in his palm. She sighed and arched toward him, her shirt straining against the buttons across her breasts, her throat an offering to his lips. Was she dreaming of him? Or did she have a boyfriend in Richmond waiting for her to return?

How much did he really know about her? She was ambitious, yet held an obvious antipathy for her father. She was determined enough to hop on the back of his ATV, yet hadn’t mentioned the offer once. She had a tough, no-nonsense demeanor, yet in sleep she projected a sweet innocence. One thing was certain, she would hate the fact that he studied her unawares.

He closed his eyes and gusted in a shuddery breath. Best to get them moving. The sun had tinged her face a healthy pink, but too much longer would see her nose peeling tomorrow. Her skin was too perfect for that.

Instead of simply shaking her awake or calling her name, he picked a purple wildflower and brushed the delicate petals up her neck and across her mouth, a poor surrogate for his lips. Her tongue darted out with a husky moan.

She’d turned from innocent to seductress. An explosion of lust fired deep in his belly. He could only allow himself to enjoy her company. Anything more would be pleasurable but dangerous.

Her eyes fluttered open. Sleepy confusion played over her face, her eyes unfocused and disoriented. After a few blinks, she startled to her elbows. “I was dreaming…”

A shot of longing arrowed straight between his legs. “What about?”

She rubbed the heels of her hands in her eyes like a child, and mumbled, “Nothing.”

She sat up and combed her fingers through her hair, trying to tame the waves. The openness in her face was gone, her habitual protective mask back in place.

“You’ve got a little drool…” He touched the side of his mouth.

With a quick intake of breath, she wiped her mouth. Her eyes narrowed. “I do not.”

“No? Trick of the light I guess.”

She adjusted her skirt and shirt, her gaze somewhere around her knees. “Did you have a nap too?”

His lips twitched. It was too easy. “Nope. Couldn’t sleep ’cause you were snoring so loud.”

Her gaze shot to his. “I don’t snore.”

“Is that what your boyfriend back home tells you? If so, he’s a liar.”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t what? Have a boyfriend?”

She shook her head, and every muscle in his body relaxed. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d become.

“How about a bed partner?”

“That is absolutely none of your business.” She stood up, turned her back, and brushed grass and dirt off her bottom, which happened to be at eye level. She was right. It wasn’t his business, but the throbbing place between his legs wanted to make it his business.

“I need to take care of something. Privately.” The formality in her voice made him chuckle. Squatting in the woods wasn’t a formal event.

“You go right ahead. I won’t look.”

On bare feet, she tiptoed across the meadow. Before she disappeared into the shadows of the trees, she cast one last, inscrutable look over her shoulder. He dropped to his back and watched a ladybug climb toward a flower, the stem bending the closer it got.

Twigs cracked over the sound of shushing grass. He hopped up and tread toward her on hunting feet. She stuffed something white under the ATV’s cargo net.

“What’s that?”

She jerked as if he’d caught her shoplifting, and her sun-pinkened cheeks turned a shade darker, the color bleeding down her throat. “It’s … it’s … my panties.”

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. She threw her hands up in a what-the-hell gesture. “Guys pee and they jiggle it, right? Women don’t have that luxury. It’s a lot more complicated.”

He stared, speechless. She would be pressed into him on the ATV. In a skirt that would be riding up her legs. Goddamn pantyless. Damn, he loved the saucy tilt to her head and half-smile she wore as if she recognized the depraved path his thoughts had taken.

They’d better get moving before he scooped her up, laid her down in the wildflowers, and embarrassed himself. Yet, he didn’t want the day to end. There was plenty of daylight left. “Interested in a tour?”

“Sure, why not?”

On the ATV, he rode her through gullies, over rises, and by abandoned farmsteads. In the woods, the gloaming came early. The sun had dropped below the trees, diffusing light around them. He pulled to a stop under a deer stand. “Let’s get up high, away from the mosquitoes. There’s something I want you to see.”

“Up there?” She pointed at the makeshift ladder, incredulity lilting her question high.

He raised his eyebrows and tutted. “Can’t do it?”

“Please.” She grabbed at a board nailed to the tree and tugged, testing its sturdiness. Before she raised a foot, she looked over her shoulder at him. “If I’m going to do this, you have to turn around, perv.”

He chuckled and faced the woods. He hadn’t actually been thinking about her pantyless state until she mentioned it. And, now that she had, it was all he could focus on. What would it feel like to push her skirt up and have those legs wrapped around him? What would she look like naked except for those fuck-me heels? Blowing out a long, steadying breath, he looked to the treetops, a shadowy greenish gray in the dusk.

“I’m up,” she said.

So was he, in a very embarrassing way. He swung himself up and settled opposite her, stretching his legs out so his boots were at her hip. Thank goodness, the shadows were even deeper in the blind.

“Were you planning to hunt today?” A hint of upper-class distastefulness stamped out the drawl that crept into her voice when she was relaxed. He trailed his gaze from her mussed hair, over her wrinkled blue blouse, and down her legs to her scuffed red-bottomed shoes. She had never had to worry about money or food.

“I carry a gun out here more for protection these days, but I used to hunt. And before you get on a soapbox, I eat what I kill. Mostly deer. Honestly, I’m not sure how we would have made it growing up if it hadn’t been for what I brought out of the woods and what Ada grew.”

“I’ve never had deer meat.”

“It’s delicious. So are squirrel, rabbit, and wild turkey, if you know how to prepare the meat.”

“Squirrel?” She said it as if he’d offered her poop on a stick as an appetizer. “They’re basically rodents.”

“Yep. But tasty fried up with a bit of gravy.” He paused. “You interested in dinner one night?”

“Not if squirrel’s on the menu.”

Suppressed laughter lent a tease to his voice. “Come on now, you have a wicked sense of adventure.”

She pressed both palms flat on the wooden floor by her hips. “Why would you even think that? I can assure you I’m the dullest, most routine-driven person you’ll ever meet.”

She wasn’t smiling, in fact, her shoulders inched toward her ears, and she looked over the trees, avoiding his gaze. He cocked his head. “I don’t know. Being a guinea pig for Lilliana. Hopping on my ATV to spend the night out in the boonies. Pretty spontaneous, if you ask me.”

“I can assure you, I’m driven by logical facts and decisions.”

“What was logical about deciding to spend two nights out here with no preparation? Were you a girl scout? Have you even camped before? That was the first time you’ve ever peed outside, wasn’t it?”

“Maybe. But I could survive.” Her voice hardened with determination, and he had no doubts she would survive, maybe even thrive. “I’ve seen that show where they dump two people naked out in the woods to survive for like a month. This is only two nights.”

“If you’re suggesting we strip naked for this little adventure, I’m all in. You first.”

Her shoulders relaxed with her laugh, and her gaze coasted down his body, lingering somewhere around the zipper of his pants.

Jesus H. Christ, was she checking him out? His semi-hard dick reared to attention, the zipper growing taut.

Chapter 7

The mosquito feasting on her calf drew her attention away from his body. Once again, her gaze had drifted straight to his pants. She slapped a hand against her calf and flicked off the flattened bug. “I’m not stripping naked. These mosquitos are eating me up as it is.”

“Can’t say as I blame them.” Naughtiness sugared his drawl.

Heat whooshed through her body. The powerful physical attraction was one aspect she could, if not squash, at least control. The real problem lay with the fact that she genuinely liked him, dangit. He was funny and smart and seemed to stare straight into her heart and not find her wanting. Or maybe that was her foolish hope.

Her hand fell to her left hip in an old, protective gesture. She hadn’t resorted to cutting herself in years. Therapy had helped her find other ways to cope, but the need lurked dormant and she was always afraid she would lose her iron grip over the urges. If she gave in to this wild attraction and he noticed the scars, would he understand or turn away?

After two short days in his company, she’d revealed more of herself than she had with any man. Yet, the Montgomery Industries offer sat like an ugly poisoned toad between them. The enclosed deer stand felt at once too small, yet the distance between them great and unnavigable.

A blink from the corner of her eye had her scrambling up and scanning the field and woods. She curled her hands over the edge, splinters biting into her palm. More blinks followed, floating like fairy lanterns a few inches above the ground.

Close to her ear, he whispered, “Darcy and I used to spend hours catching lightning bugs.”

“Me too. I could count on Ma-maw to have a Mason jar, holes in the lid, at the ready.” Her breathing hitched, memories rubbing her insides raw, her vulnerabilities welling too close to the surface. Time passed without either of them moving or speaking. Eventually, the lightning bugs drifted higher into the trees until the leaves blotted out their lights.

“What could Montgomery Industries possibly offer that could tempt you to leave this behind?” She’d posed the question almost rhetorically, but when he jerked back and shifted away, she realized she’d opened a door she wasn’t ready to pass through.

He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Look, I’m not sure what sort of negotiation games you’ve been playing at out here, but I’m a straight talker. Are you ready to discuss the offer?”

She stepped as far away from him as possible, rough-cut wood digging into her shoulder blades. “You think I’ve been playing games today?”

“Why else would you spend the day out here with me?” The darkness hid his expression, but she felt like he was testing her in some way.

She was a Montgomery Industries executive tasked with a job. Family loyalty and her own ambition dictated that she should press him, but the magic of the day still buzzed through her. Discussing the offer would be a desecration to memories she would always hold close. Surely the harsh light of day would be soon enough. “Can we discuss the offer tomorrow?”

He was silent for a long while. “Fair enough. Are you ready to head out?”

“As I’ll ever be. Are we sleeping in the meadow?” She descended the ladder first, scraping the pointy toes of her shoes against the bark. They would never be the same after this adventure.