Sidewalk Flower (12 page)

“Excuse me?” he whispered into her hair.

“Oh crap, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say
that out loud.”

She’d given up on convincing Lucky to
give her a turn at pleasing him and had made nice with feeling his breaths in
perfect rhythm with his finger strokes.
 
But she wanted more as the ticking clock refused to stop no matter how
many finger guns she aimed its way.
 

Hearing her profane curse had obviously
surprised his country ears.
 
He’d been at
her neck with his lips when it must have sounded like she wanted him to get the
show on the road.
 

“Do you want me to stop this part?
 
I will.
 
Tell me what you want me to do, darlin’.”
 
He looked at her for help.
 
A furrow started in his brow as his fingers
stalled but stayed placed deeply inside her.
 
They were dangerously close to what she feared had just begun.

“Um, I’m sorry.
 
I think I just need to go to the bathroom
real quick.”

She’d ignored the first trickle she’d
felt, not wanting Lucky to stop what he was so expertly doing to her down
there.
  
His massage left her tingly and
relaxed but hyper sensitive as well and ready to be filled by his beautiful
cock she’d been petting.

Lost in the most amazing bliss, she’d
felt herself stretching just so to accommodate the svelte length of three
fingers and then four.
 
But she couldn’t
ignore the second bit of leaking and she would be mortified if his fingers were
to come out of her bloodied.
 
It was that
thought that had brought forth the vulgarity she hadn’t meant to screech out
loud.
 
The timing really was cruel.

“Are you okay?” he called after her once
she’d left the bed.

“Yeah, I’m fine.
 
I’m sorry, I should have gone
beforehand.
 
I’ll be right back.”
 
She left Lucky under the covers and tip toed
quickly to the bathroom then closed the door.

* * * *

Lucky lay in bed missing the most amusing
woman he’d ever met.
 
The bathroom where
he guessed she’d gone to relieve herself was quiet.
 
He just wanted her back—back beside him, under
him, wrapped around his waist.
 
He closed
his eyes and wrapped his hand around his erection, not wanting to lose it.
 
Although, just the thought of her coming back
out of the bathroom in her yellow lacy bra and nothing else was enough to
sustain his desire.
 
That was coming off
next so he could taste her creamy breasts.
 
She was amazing, not amusing.
 
But
after a few more minutes, he heard her curse again, this time it wasn’t as
bold, only a few sequential “Shit, shit, shits.”

Concern got him up out of the bed.
 
After maneuvering in the darkness, he tapped
lightly on the door with his knuckles.

“Trista, is everything okay?”

After a sigh, she opened the door and
answered him face to face.
 
Her eyes were
dripping with runny black makeup of some sort and her nose was running.
 
Uneven red marks made her neck and throat
splotchy.
 
God she was beautiful, and a
mess.
 
It’d been so dark in the
room.
 
How could he have let her get like
this?
  

“Lucky, I’m so sorry.
 
You should probably wash your hands.
 
Oh hell, I’m so embarrassed.”
 
She flicked the light switch on.

He started to question her but then
noticed she was staring at his hand.
 
“Oh
no, darlin’, what did I do to you?”
 
He
looked again, bringing his hand up to his face to inspect it more closely.

“Lucky, please just wash your hands.
 
You didn’t do anything to me.”
 
Then with a heavy sigh, “I got my period just
now.
 
The sheets, your
hand, our night.
 
They’re all
ruined.
 
I have to get changed.”
 
She left him at the sink to go fish out
something from her suitcase.
 
Not sure
how to make things less embarrassing for her, he did as she asked and went for
the miniature bar of soap at the sink.

He could tell without needing any of
Trista’s insightful senses that she was bummed out and sorry.
 
He’d never experienced this before but
wondered if it might make her feel better to know that it didn’t bother
him.
 
But that could make her feel like
he was after sex no matter the cost.
 

Which he wasn’t.
 
He’d tried to make that clear tonight by
taking his time.
   

So he finished washing his hands and then
went to retrieve his boxers from the floor and pulled them on.
 
The dainty yellow panties she’d given him lay
near his discarded red shirt.
 
She
refused to look at him.
 

“Trista, would you like these back?” he
asked, holding her panties out to her.

She was already covered in a white
nightgown that hung loosely in what had to be her favored length of just below
mid-thigh.
 
In her hand, she held a blue
and yellow box he’d seen in drug stores before.
 

“No, those are yours.
 
If you want them, that is.”

“Um, of course I do.”
 
He stood in her way.
 
That had to be doubt shadowing her eyes and
the furrow in her brow.
 
He impeded her
only long enough to place a light kiss on her forehead and then hopefully convince
her of his feelings.
 
“Hey, it’s
okay.
 
Don’t feel bad.
 
Okay?
 
I don’t.”

She just nodded her head and then
returned to the bathroom.
 
When she came
back out, he was lying in the bed; a few bath towels he’d found covered the
mess.
 
As soon as he saw her, he raised
the comforter.
 
“Come, lay down.”

Trista shrugged but did as he asked.
 
Her choppy, heavy steps indicated she needed
rest.
 

“Hey, why so sad?
 
It’s okay, really,” he said as he traced the
outline of her lips, wishing he could cajole them into a smile.
 
Dimple marks dented her chin as it began to
quiver and fresh tears filled her eyes. “Are you saying this was a one shot
deal?
 
I was looking forward to at least
a few more nights with my new snuggle partner.”

He made her laugh, a little.
 
Thank
you, Lord
.

“No, I’m not saying that.
 
I just feel bad and I—” her mouth hung open,
making him desperate to know what else she needed to say.

“You what?”

“I just know that in a few days, we’ll be
back in California.
 
Things will be
different there.”
 
She frowned deeply and
looked down at a small white satin bow on her nightie, holding it in the tips
of her two fingers.

“How do you figure?
 
Do you transform back into some prudish,
proper goody two-shoes who wouldn’t give me the time of day?”

Another smile, but this one was followed
by a sigh and then a reckoning long slow blinking of her eyes.
 
“No, never.
 
It’s just that I don’t think we’ll get to
spend much time together.
 
I’ll be
prepping for the tour in two weeks and you’ve got whatever business you have to
take care of.
 
I don’t even know what
that is or where that’s gonna be.
 
If you
stay with Jaxon, well, I won’t even go there.
 
Suffice it to say I’m not allowed in his house most days.”

Now that didn’t sound right.
 
Not with how close the two were.
 
But aside from that, she’d brought up a lot
he hadn’t considered yet.
 
More importantly,
she became even more human.
 
She wasn’t
just a hot thing riding shotgun on this road trip with an open attraction to
him.
 
She had asked about his business
and sounded worried about how things might dissolve between them once they were
back in her real world.
 

There was so much more he wanted to find
out.
 
The things that made her smile and
the ones that made her curse.
 
What
curiosities did she hold tight to and what caused the trace moments of sadness
he’d seen creep across her face the past couple days?
 
Why hadn’t she heard him when he’d told her
time and again how special she was?
 

“Well, maybe I shouldn’t be that
guy.
 
You
know,
the one who waits around.
 
But I’m afraid
I am.”

“You are?”

“Mm-hmm.”
 

“Are you sure?
 
Because you don’t really know me that well,”
she warned, rubbing her right wrist up the length of her bare left forearm.

“Not yet.
 
But I like what I do know of you.”
 
He caught her wrist on its way back down.

Trista pulled away from him an inch and
asked, “Really?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’re a good guy, Lucky.
 
A good man.”

“I’m tryin’, darlin’.”

“Well, I appreciate it.
 
You know, I didn’t plan on liking you, at
all.”

He chuckled and then had to ask, “Why
not?”

She twisted her mouth and rested a
knuckle at the tip of her nose before she spoke.
 
“I just wasn’t ready for some stranger to
come tagging along on my road trip.
 
Making things uncomfortable and messing with my head.”
 

His eyes widened and his brows shot
up.
 
“Have I been that bad?
 
To quote a young lady I know—Screw Me!”
 
He’d rather not talk to her that way but
sensed she needed the shot of humor.
 
How
he wished he’d have been able to soothe her, and what he’d really wanted, to
make love to her.
 
He contented himself
with the knowledge that he was exactly the man who would wait until the time
was right.
 
They’d be fine in
California.
 
He was sure of it.

* * * *

Trista traced Lucky’s lips with her
fingertip.
 
“Nope, that was just me,
trying to put up a wall it turns out would have been a big mistake had I been
successful.”
 

Lucky had been the key to her getting
through the past couple days.
 
But now,
she couldn’t escape the roars of the coming train, laying its tracks all over
her soul.
 
Tomorrow she had to jump off
and face what she’d been running from since she was a little girl.
 
Alone.
 

The thought made her sick to her
stomach.
 
She hunched over and rubbed it
a few turns.

If only she could have
been wrapped up in making love with Lucky for a few hours tonight.
 

His deep voice broke through her
thoughts.
 
“Thank you, Trista.
 
For letting me come along with you.
 
You’re a good woman, no matter what you
think.”

She let the compliment fill her ears
because even though he was wrong, she could tell he meant it.
 
For some reason, he believed in her.
 

“Lucky, tomorrow I have to go do
something, take care of some things.
 
Please don’t take it personal, but I need to do them alone.”

She lay there in the dark room, safe in
his close hold, pretty darn intimate for two people who’d just met.
 
But for tonight, she’d keep her secrets to
herself.

“I understand darlin’.
 
Just so you know, if you change your mind,
I’m here for you.”

“Thanks.”
 
Her head bobbed a few times.

But there would be no invitation for
him.
 
No feeling that things would
somehow turn out better if he were to accompany her into Duketown.
 

Jaxon would have been different.
 

He already knew the reasons for her going
and would have been able to handle the sick place she could very possibly slip
into when she re-entered the personal hell.
 
Jaxon had a built-in capacity for slime and disgust.