He tightened his hold on her hand. “Knowing for sure what kind of love each of us feels is difficult. I think that comes with time. Maybe we should keep treading forward with caution until we’re both certain of our feelings.”
“Or we can throw caution to the wind,” she suggested.
He nodded. “Let’s sleep on it. I don’t want you to make a mistake you’ll regret, and I sure don’t want to make one myself.”
Chapter Seventeen
Julie agreed that both she and Blackie should take some time to think about their feelings before they moved forward with their relationship. When they got up from the table, she linked arms with him to leave the restaurant. Once outside, she took a deep breath of the evening air. Dusk had fallen while they were eating, and the faint scent of flowers in window boxes along both sides of Main created a perfect ending to what had been a fabulous evening together.
As they walked along the sidewalk toward his shop, she said, “Thank you so much for joining me for dinner. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. We should do it again soon.”
“Only if I pay.”
She chuckled. “You do realize that’s a really old-fashioned way of thinking. Dating is more casual now. The younger set takes turns paying for meals.”
“Have you looked at me lately? I’m not part of the younger set.”
She smiled and hugged his arm. “You aren’t exactly old, either. And it won’t hurt if you allow me to foot a dinner bill now and again.”
“True. But next time is on me.”
When she tried to slow their pace at the door of his shop, he gave her a tug to set her feet in motion again. “It’s late. I’ll walk you back to your shop.”
Julie laughed. “Oh, dear. It’s barely full dark. I’ve walked along Main alone at least a hundred times, Blackie. You’re being overprotective.”
“I’m protective, but I don’t think overprotective describes me.”
“Mystic Creek has such a low crime rate it’s boring.” Julie secretly liked being with a man who wanted to look after her. She’d never been made to feel by Derek that she was important in any way. “It isn’t unsafe for women to walk along Main Street after dark when they’re alone.”
“Most of the time, it isn’t. But don’t forget what happened to the Johnson girl.”
While she’d been sick, Julie had forgotten about that. “Oh. You’re right. I guess bad things do happen here sometimes.”
He chuckled. “Yes, but a bad thing won’t happen to you. At least not tonight. Not as long as I have breath left in my body, anyway.”
As they crossed the town center, all the street lanterns came on to cast nimbuses of golden light against the darkening sky. At the fountain, he drew to a stop, released her to fish in his pants pocket, and drew out a fistful of change. He handed Julie a quarter. “Let’s make a wish.”
Julie had never thrown a coin into this particular fountain, but she had made countless wishes in others over the years. None of them had ever come true. It was such a beautiful spring evening and not that chilly. It put her in a romantic frame of mind, so before she threw in her quarter, she wished that her relationship with Blackie would become a love to last a lifetime. Regardless of his concerns, she didn’t think the age difference between them was great enough to matter if they truly loved each other.
Blackie waited for her and tossed his coin in just as she did. Then he smiled wistfully down at her. “Are you going to tell me what your wish was?”
Julie shook her head. “No. If I tell you, my wish won’t come true, and then I won’t get to spend the rest of my life with you.”
His eyes went dark, and Julie found that she couldn’t look away. He leaned closer, and the next instant, his mouth laid claim to hers. It was a tentative kiss at first, but then he deepened it and took control. She felt as if the starch in her spine vanished, and she rested her weight against his, wondering how a simple kiss could make her feel hot, excited, and as if all the bones in her body had melted.
“Wow,” he said as he drew back. And then with a moan, he settled his mouth over hers again.
Julie lost it. It had been so long since a man had held her in his arms, so long since she’d felt like a woman. There was something about Blackie that ignited all her nerve endings and made her want him in a way she’d never wanted another man.
He suddenly jerked away from her and grasped her shoulders in his strong hands. “Not here. We’re in plain sight.”
She realized that she’d jerked his shirttails loose from where they’d been tucked in at his waist, and she’d also unfastened two of his shirt buttons to reveal a mat of glistening black chest hair and bronze skin.
He grasped her hand. “My place or yours?”
“Mine.”
He broke into a speed walk that had Julie almost running. He looped an arm around her waist to keep her from falling as they hurried across Main to reach the south side. By the time they hotfooted it to the Mystic Creek Menagerie, she was out of breath and wondered what she’d been thinking when she’d suggested her place. The Morning Grind was a coffee and pastry shop with only a bathroom and a storage area in back. Blackie had a full-on residence above his business.
As they dashed through the mall area, Julie tried not to think about how they looked to all the diners on the revolving platform. Turned on. Unbuttoned and untucked. Oh, God. They should have gone to Blackie’s. His shop had been much closer, and there would have been a bed, at least.
Julie opened the door of her shop, pulled Blackie inside, and quickly locked up again. “The storage room,” she told him. “Hurry. People can see through the front windows.”
They ran to the back, and the minute she got the storage room door closed behind them, they were in each other’s arms again. Julie had watched plenty of films where a man and woman were so turned on by each other that they ripped away clothing and went after each other in a frenzy. She’d always thought how silly that was. Real people didn’t destroy each other’s garments. Only with Blackie, it was like that. Their clothing went flying, and the next thing she knew, they were lying on the bank of boxes that held all the different coffees she kept on hand.
A moment of sanity cleared her mind. “What if these boxes collapse?”
“I’ll go down a happy man.”
He put his mouth over a pulse point in her throat and made a sound that reminded her of a growl. Sanity flew straight out the proverbial window again. His hands ignited her skin. His mouth titillated her nerve endings. She couldn’t think and didn’t want to think. For the first time in her life, she wanted to just be. She wanted to just feel. And with Blackie, she did.
Afterward they lay limp in each other’s arms. When Blackie regained his breath, he groaned and said, “Sweet lord. I’ll never feel quite the same about French roast.”
Julie burst out giggling, he joined in, and they laughed until tears trickled down their cheeks. When their mirth subsided, he held her in his arms as if he cherished her, and Julie closed her eyes on a wave of pleasure that ran far deeper than the flesh. No one had ever made her feel as important as Blackie did. He stirred to kiss her hair.
“I love you, Julie Price. I didn’t think I’d ever love anyone again, but I do, and the way I feel about you is far more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt before.”
“I love you, too.” Tears filled her eyes again, only this time they weren’t caused by unbridled mirth. “Oh, Blackie, I love you, too.”
Julie always lowered the shop thermostat at night to keep her heating bill down, and even with Blackie’s body pressed against her, she soon started to feel cold. He must have felt the chill on her skin.
“Come on. We need to find our clothes. I don’t want you to relapse.”
They got up to collect garments. It was then that Julie realized Blackie still wore his socks. Otherwise he was completely nude, and she was amazed
by his musculature. He looked like a man half his age. A very sexy man. He had a stocky build that lent itself well to showy ripples and bulges. “How on earth do you stay in such great shape?”
“Walking. Hiking. Watching what I eat. I’ve been lucky, I guess.” He handed over her bra. “You’re absolutely beautiful. I should have kept my head long enough to tell you that.”
Julie felt a blush warm her cheeks. When they were completely dressed, Blackie attempted to tidy her hair. He finally gave up and smiled. “Why do you dye it?”
“How do you know I dye it?”
He laughed. “Honey, the hair on your head doesn’t match your down-yonder roots.”
“Oh!” The heat in her cheeks intensified. “I dyed it dark after the divorce. I felt as if all the light had gone out in my life. I was so sad and blue all the time. You know? And the dark color with a blue streak just seemed right. I told myself that when my broken heart healed, I would go back to my natural color, but until I met you, I didn’t think I’d ever feel happy again.”
Blackie drew her into his arms and swayed with her. “I’m sorry he hurt you so deeply, honey. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”
“You didn’t deserve what happened in your marriage, either.” Julie looked up at him. “I want to make love with you again, Blackie. Slowly this time. Will you come over to my house?”
He looked deeply into her eyes. “I’d love to. Should I bring a toothbrush and my razor?”
She realized he was asking if he would be welcome to spend the night. “Absolutely. I’m not finished with you yet.”
He laughed and let go of her. Then a horrified expression crossed his burnished features. “Oh, shit!”
“What?” Julie felt slightly panicked. “What’s wrong? What is it?”
“I didn’t use any protection. I can’t believe I was so careless.”
Julie knew people practiced safe sex for a variety of reasons, and she applauded the choice. But her and Blackie’s forgetfulness this one time didn’t strike her as being a catastrophe. “I’ve been with nobody since my divorce. Because Derek was high risk, I was tested after we split up. There’s no danger that I’m carrying an STD, and I’m also on the Pill. Not to keep from getting pregnant, obviously, because until now, I haven’t been with anyone else. I take birth control to regulate my periods. We’re safe, unless there’s something you haven’t told me.”
He released a slow breath. “No. I haven’t been to Crystal Falls for a night on the town in over three years. I know I’m clean. I was just worried about my swimmers finding a friendly little egg.”
Julie grinned at him. “Well, you needn’t worry about that. I’m ninety-nine-point-nine percent safe.”
* * *
* * *
The following morning, Erin was running late. The alarm on her phone hadn’t gone off. She had plugged in the device to charge on her nightstand last night, but she hadn’t gotten the charger cord seated properly. Her phone had gone deader than a doornail. She took the fastest shower in history, threw on her clothes, and ran so fast down the stairs that she nearly fell. Once in the kitchen, she grabbed what looked like a blueberry muffin and poured herself a cup of coffee, both of which she carried with her as she hurried from the house.
Once at the paddock fence, she glanced at her watch. It was half past eight. Normally she began working with Violet at seven sharp. They’d lost a precious hour together, and Erin wanted to kick herself for failing to make sure her cell phone was properly plugged in. She took a big bite of the muffin and chased it down with coffee that burned her tongue.
Domino appeared at her side. The dog made a habit of intercepting her when she was wolfing down one of Vickie’s creations for breakfast, and Erin knew he had his mouth all set for part of her muffin.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m an easy mark this morning, and I think blueberries are safe. I know raisins aren’t. That’s why Vickie stopped putting them in her cinnamon rolls. Because of you and your mooching habits.”
Domino gave an excited bark, and Erin handed him what was left of her meal. The animal wolfed it down and then looked up at her expectantly. Erin couldn’t help but grin. “That was it. I’m all out of goodies.”
Domino wandered away, hoisting his leg on fence posts all the way to the corner of the barn. Erin turned to regard Violet, who watched her with unmistakable nervousness. “I think we need to add grain to your treat list today. Change it up. Make it more exciting for you. Only I’m not about to carry grain in my pockets, girlfriend. I did that once, forgot it was in there, and washed my jeans. Have you ever seen horse grain when it’s become mush? So I’m going to find some kind of container that I can stuff inside my bra.”
Erin took off for the bunkhouse. She didn’t need anything all that big. She figured she could drag a bag of grain to sit outside the paddock and then she could refill the container when needed. She was about to give up when she saw an empty, shake-out bubble gum container sitting on the table. It was the perfect size for her purposes, and the square hole in the lip was just big enough to let grain fall out into her hand.
An hour later Erin was silently congratulating herself on being brilliant. Violet loved the grain and seemed a lot more excited about it than she was about carrots and apple slices. The horse would actually lower her head to eat from the flat of Erin’s hand.
Erin and the mare had a phenomenal couple of hours together, and then Erin lost her hold on the bubble gum shaker as she was measuring out a smidgeon of grain. The plastic container fell to the ground, the grain within it striking its sides upon impact.
Violet went berserk. She reared up, her front hooves high above Erin’s head. Erin glimpsed the mare’s eyes, and they were wild with fright. Instinct took over, and Erin threw herself away from the horse, rolled across the ground, and then sprang to her feet. She ran to the fence, grabbed a top rung, and with terror lending her strength, managed to vault over the barrier.
* * *
* * *
Ever since the first morning that Erin had worked with the mare, Wyatt had made it his habit to hang out as much as he could in Violet’s stall so he could monitor Erin as she handled the horse. As recently as yesterday, he’d decided that it was no longer necessary. Erin was abiding by all the safety rules now. Given Violet’s obvious reluctance to hurt anyone, Wyatt believed Erin was unlikely to be injured by the animal. Why he was still watching over her, he didn’t know. Habit, he reasoned. That was an easier explanation for him to deal with than the real one, namely that he had fallen in love with the woman.
But then the bubble gum container struck the ground, and the mare exploded. Before Wyatt could move, Erin hit the dirt, rolled clear of those lethal hooves, and sprang over the fence. Wyatt almost started across the paddock to join Erin outside the enclosure, but the horse’s behavior made him think twice. Instead he left the stall and hurried along the alley to the main doors of the barn. Outside, he found Erin bent forward with her hands on her knees. He lightly touched her shoulder, and she jackknifed erect, her blue eyes so wide they were almost as ringed with white as the mare’s.
“Don’t tell Uncle Slade,” she said. “Please, don’t tell him, Wyatt.”
“Erin, she could have killed you.”
“I dropped the grain container near her front feet. It scared her half to death. I don’t know why, but I know that horse. It terrified her.”
Wyatt had seen it happen. “Did the container make a loud sound when it hit the ground?”
“What?”
He glanced at the horse. Violet was still bucking and kicking, so he guessed that she was also making a lot of noise. He repeated the question, this time raising his volume, which he’d learned to do only with practice.
“Not really loud,” Erin told him. “Little popping sounds as it hit and bounced around.”
Something niggled at the back of Wyatt’s mind, a
memory that was trying to slip forward, only he couldn’t for the life of him think what it was. He only knew that he’d seen a horse react just that way once before when something was dropped at its feet.
He touched a hand to Erin’s shoulder. “You handled yourself like a pro,” he told her. “You’ve come a long way, and I’m really proud of you.”
Her chin came up, and he saw a flare of pride glisten in her eyes. “Thank you. I just reacted and tried to get out of her way.”
“You reacted exactly right. When a horse blows up and you don’t even have a halter on her yet, the first order of business is to get out of harm’s way until you can figure out how to handle the situation.”
Still nettled by the memory that wouldn’t come to him, Wyatt went to stand at the fence. Violet was busy striking the grain container with a viciousness that made his pulse accelerate. He knew Erin didn’t want him to tell Slade. She was afraid her uncle might renege on his word about the horse being hers. But Wyatt knew his boss would never do that. He might try to convince Erin to get rid of Violet, but he’d never go back on a promise. Wyatt almost wished the man would. Erin had become very important to Wyatt, and the thought of her getting hurt or killed made his blood run cold.
Erin came to stand beside him and waved a hand in front of his face to get his attention. When he looked down at her, she asked, “Could Violet ever have been in parades? Think of all the noise”—she broke off and waved her hand again, this time as if she were erasing a blackboard—“parades are really noisy. I realize you’ve never heard one, but the marching bands play music and pound on drums. The crowds along the sidewalks yell and cheer and throw stuff. An easily startled horse would never work out.”
Parades. The moment Wyatt saw Erin say that word, the memory that had been evading him popped into the foreground of his mind. “Oh, my God.”
“What?”
Huckleberry Lake Page 32
