by Beth Flynn
I looked at my watch and gulped. He’d left almost an hour ago. And if he’d returned, I would’ve surely heard his bike. I looked up at the sky. The sun would be setting soon. An emptiness laced with a tingling of fear descended on me. My eyes started to burn when I remembered my parting shot at him. And besides, we’re not really married.
What had I done?
I trudged back toward the house and was staring at the ground when I was startled by Christian. He’d appeared out of nowhere and came barreling at me with what looked like an expression of relief on his face. I dropped my basket when he pulled me into a tight hug. After releasing me he took my face in his hands and kissed my nose, my cheeks, my eyes, my forehead.
“I couldn’t find you anywhere, Mimi. I thought you left,” he admitted before letting out a long breath.
I was a bit breathless myself when I said, “But you must’ve seen my car still parked in front of the house.”
“Yeah, I saw it. But, I was gone long enough for you to call a cab or maybe run to the main road and hitchhike, or…” He stopped and pulled his hand through his long hair. “I thought you were gone.”
I took a step back and retrieved the basket I’d dropped. Holding it up I explained, “I was picking strawberries.” He gave me a smile that turned my insides to mush. “Wait…why didn’t I hear the motorcycle?”
“I left it where it would be found.” He took my hand and started tugging me toward the house.
“How did you get back?” I asked as I struggled to keep up with his long strides.
The house came into view and I saw a pickup truck idling in the driveway. Apparently, the driver had waited for Christian to return and gave him a wave before driving off. Before I could ask he told me he helped a guy get it started in return for a ride.
“About earlier. What I said when you drove off. I—”
“Forget it,” he interrupted as we made our way up to the front porch.
I looked up at him, but he must’ve seen something in my expression that caused him to continue.
“I’ve wasted my entire life holding grudges. Being with you this week has shown me how much I’ve missed out on real happiness.” His deep voice was laced with regret.
“I’m not perfect, Christian. And neither are you. We’ve still got a long way to go, and let’s face it, we both know that our families will probably be placing bets on how long we’ll last.”
“Then let’s make sure we prove them wrong, Mimi."
“We still have a couple of days left before you have to go back to school,” Christian said as we watched the truck head down the long drive round a curve and disappear from view.
I looked up at his profile and he must’ve felt my stare because he turned and looked down at me. I was certain he was going to tell me that he wanted to spend the few days we had left in bed. His answer surprised me.
“We’re going to pack up and go to Pine Creek, North Carolina. I want to meet your family before you go back to school and I head back to Florida. And you told me your grandpa is a minister. We should ask him to marry us."
I fumbled for words that didn’t come.
“Am I wrong to assume you want to make our marriage official?” he asked.
This was supposed to be the part where the guy tells the girl that it wasn’t real and he enjoyed their time together, then makes fun of her for thinking they were really married. But that’s not what Christian did.
“You’re not wrong,” I whispered. I wanted my grandfather to marry us, but I was concerned about the resistance I knew we would get from my family. "I'm not sure if asking him to do it this soon would be a good idea. I think both of our families would probably take us more seriously if we waited until I graduate in a few months."
"I didn't mean he had to marry us immediately, Mimi. I would make it official tomorrow, but I understand if you want to wait until summer."
"I think it's for the best," I assured him.
"Are you having doubts about us?"
"No!" I blurted. And I was telling the truth. Our romance may have been fast, but I had no doubt it was real.
“Good.” A few seconds passed before he added, “And I was wrong to make an assumption about school without talking to you, Mimi.”
I blinked. Stunned at his admission.
“Shocked?” he asked with a lopsided grin. “Don’t be. You’re the only person in the world I’d do anything for. I wasn’t being cocky when I told you before that I don’t ask. I don’t. I never have. But for you, and you alone, I’ll try.”
“Thank you for that, Christian. I’ll do my best to be patient when I think you’re giving orders or being bossy. I’ll remind you nicely when I think it’s something we should decide together.”
“You look worried.” He hesitated before adding, “Are you doubting if we can make it work?”
“No. Not at all,” I answered, while shaking my head. “I’m not worried about us. I’m worried about bringing you home to meet Grizz.” I chewed on my bottom lip as the horrible-things-that-could-go-wrong scenarios played in my head. There were too many to count.
* * *
“You have to keep ice on it, Mimi!” Christian practically yelled as he bent over me. The frustration in his tone was apparent.
“But the ice hurts more than the injury when it’s been on too long,” I whined.
Immediately following our earlier conversation about visiting my family and announcing our wedding plans, we made the decision to leave first thing in the morning. We used what little daylight we had left to unload the bed of Christian’s borrowed truck with the homeowner’s personal recreational toys. He was tugging at the kayak when it caught on something. Without realizing that I was standing right behind him, Christian gave a hard yank that dislodged the kayak with unexpected momentum. It hit me in the face with enough force to cause me to stumble backwards and land with a thud on the ground.
I was stunned, and even winced when I tried to smile as another childhood memory descended on me.
"Mimi, do you wanna get married again?" Christian asked me as I followed him through the maze of jungle gym tunnels. He stopped crawling and turned around, accidentally kicking me in the face. I was startled, but not hurt.
"I'm sorry, Mimi! I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" he cried as he tried to wiggle closer to me in the tight space.
I gave him a wide grin and said, "Yeah, it kinda hurt, but not bad."
Christian looked relieved and started to turn back around when I answered his earlier question, "I forgot to bring my ring with me. I didn't know if you wanted to play wedding again."
Christian had given me a plastic ring that he'd won at a carnival and I'd worn it every time we saw each other.
"That's okay," he told me as we ventured out of the maze and were now standing in a small cube-shaped part of the structure that had open windows. He proudly pulled something out of his right front pocket. "I got this one for you out of the claw machine at the grocery store. It has a bigger diamond and it’s blue!"
It was the same ring that he’d held onto for years and put on my pillow last night.
After holding the ice to my swollen face for what seemed like forever, we ate a simple dinner, and turned on the TV to discover that even though snow wasn’t in the forecast, the temperature was supposed to dip that night. It was about that time we realized the heat in the house wasn’t working, and he didn’t want to call the realtor to send a repairman.
Christian’s solution was simple. He dragged the master bedroom mattress out to the living room, piled it high with blankets, and built a roaring fire.
“As much as I don’t want to, I think we need to sleep in our clothes tonight. The fire will go out when we fall asleep, and I don’t want you to freeze.”
I gave him what I could only assume was a crooked smile. My face was numb from all the ice packs. We decided to turn in at ten o’clock so we could get an early start in the morning. Our plan was to be on the road at sunrise; he would follow me to Hi
ghway 11. There was a gas station where we could leave his truck. We’d drive my car up into the foothills of Pine Creek. We concocted a story that had nothing to do with abduction, but of two old friends running into each other, deciding to spend time together. We were going to keep the story short and simple. Christian was there to fish with a buddy who never showed up, and after running into him at Pumpkin Rest and discovering Camp Keowee was closed, I made the decision on my own to stay with him. We realized we’ve always been in love, and picked up where we left off. We had an impromptu wedding, but wanted my grandfather, Micah, to make it official after I got my degree.
“You look awful, Mimi,” he said shaking his head, disgusted with himself. We were on our improvised bed and he was sitting up, looking down at me. “What will your parents think when we walk in with you looking like you’ve been in a car wreck?”
I reached for him to pull him down to me and said, “I’ll go in first and explain there was a mishap, an accident. Then I’ll tell them I brought someone home for them to meet. Believe me, that’ll shock them enough that they won’t even be thinking about my face.”
He nodded and settled next to me on the mattress. He was on his side, softly stroking my neck when he asked, “Does Grizz still go by James?”
I took his hand and kissed it before answering. I looked up at the ceiling and tried to explain.
“When my dad bought his way off death row, he was given a new identity.” I looked at Christian and his eyes were serious. I looked back at the ceiling. “It was James something. I don’t remember the last name he was given,” I told him shaking my head. “The story of how my mother found his real family is long, but I’ll give you the edited version. Before dying, Grizz’s birth mother gave him the first name Jamison, which was her mother’s maiden name and what would be his only link back to her family and a father he never knew. My mother’s search ended in Pine Creek, North Carolina, where she found Grizz’s real father, Micah Hunter. So, Grizz’s real name is Jamison Hunter.”
“That’s where you got the Hunter from in your alias,” Christian interrupted.
“Yeah, though technically,” I informed him, “it’s my real name.”
He nodded his understanding. “So is he Grizz or James or Jamison?”
I looked over at him and smiled. “He’s all of them. For the most part, James was the man my mother left Florida to marry, and people call him that. And it’s understandable because it can be short for Jamison. My grandfather calls him Son, except when he’s mad at him. Then he’s Jamison.” I laughed before continuing. “My mother calls him Grizz, but not in public. And it took me a while, but I call him Dad.”
“I’ll be back in a sec,” Christian told me as he jumped up and made his way to the master bedroom.
I took the few minutes he was gone to stare into the fire, and was immediately mesmerized by the flames. I sat up and watched as sparks flew off the burning timbers and disappeared. I’d never given much thought to the color of a fire. I thought they were mostly a combination of orange and red, but this one was different, and I suddenly realized why. I didn’t recall where I’d learned it, but I remembered knowing that the hottest fires burn blue. The same blue I saw in Christian’s eyes. The intensity I felt from his stare was hotter than any flame I’d set my eyes on. And everyone knew that if you played with fire you got burned. There was no fear in my revelation. Because I knew with every fiber of my being that Christian would never burn me. I felt the weight of the mattress as he sat down behind me, and I turned to him. He was holding his gun that he’d obviously retrieved from the nightstand.
“What do you need that for?” I asked. Our makeshift bed was pushed up against one of the couches. He shoved the gun beneath a seat cushion before curling next to me and pulling me into his arms.
“I like to know it’s close by.”
“Please don’t bring it inside my parents’ house tomorrow,” I pleaded.
“I wasn’t going to,” he replied, then asked, “but why not?”
“Because I’m seriously concerned about how my father will react to all this. And I don’t want to have to worry about anybody getting hurt.”
“I’m not going to hurt your father, Mimi.” His breath tickled my neck as he nuzzled it.
“It’s not my father I’m worried about, Christian. It’s you.”
He laughed. “I can handle Grizz, and I won’t need a gun to do it.”
The last thought I had before falling into a deep sleep was, I pray you’re right, my love, followed by, but you don’t know Grizz.
Chapter 34
Pine Creek, North Carolina 2007
“Again, Grizz?” Ginny ran her hand up and down her husband’s arm.
They’d made love twenty minutes earlier, and were enjoying the rare solitude that came with having the house to themselves. They were completely nude, on top of the covers, and had the bedroom door wide open. Thunderclap Newman’s “Something in the Air” was softly playing from an iPod that was connected to a speaker on their nightstand.
“Are you asking or telling me, Kit?”
His voice was low and deep and the tone never failed to send a spiral of heat flowing through her blood. Mimi was at camp, Jason was on a hunting trip, and the twins were spending the night with cousins. It wasn’t very often they were minus children, but they were tonight, and were taking full advantage of it.
Ginny sat up, and gave him a wicked grin. “You’re the one who likes to hear me scream. And because there’s always someone in the house when we make love, I normally have to bite my knuckles off trying to shove my hand in my mouth so I don’t make so much noise. But not tonight.” She lightly caressed his muscled and heavily tattooed bicep.
Ginny recognized when his eyes turned from teasing and playful to intense and heated. Her gaze roamed down her husband’s hard chest and she shook her head with a smile as her eyes wandered lower. “It never ceases to amaze me how fast you get hard.” Ginny looked back at him and saw him swallow, his eyes never leaving hers as he guided her on top of him.
"I'll still be getting hard for you when I'm in my nineties." His voice held its low rumble. "Besides, I'm still in my fifties and I have a lot of lost time to make up for."
"You won't be in your fifties for long," she laughed. "Your birthday isn't that far off."
Disregarding her attempt to tease him, Grizz's voice was thick with need when he asked, "Kit, do you wanna scream for me again, or not?”
“Make me,” she challenged, her voice husky.
And he did.
Later, they were tangled together in bed talking when Ginny stifled a yawn.
“Go to sleep, baby,” Grizz said as he kissed the top of her head. She’d been twining his long hair around her finger, and when she didn’t object, he helped her untangle it.
She felt him pull away and she opened her eyes. “Aren’t you tired?”
“Nah,” came his reply as he stood up and stretched. “I’m gonna check my stocks, and maybe watch the news. Where’s your laptop?”
“I left it on the end table in the great room. It should be fully charged.”
He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. Pulling on his thermal long johns, he headed out to the great room, and found her computer where she said it would be. He sat in his recliner, opened up the laptop and then picked up the remote to turn on the television. He missed the eleven o’clock news, but knew they would rebroadcast it shortly.
When he first allowed himself to test the waters with the computer, his huge fingers were clumsy and awkward on the keyboard, but as he became more familiar with the act of typing, it got easier. He didn’t know how long he’d been staring at the computer screen, when he thought he heard the words “Camp Keowee” coming from the TV. Slowly closing the laptop and setting it aside, he reached for the remote and turned up the volume on the television. He wasn’t sure if what he was hearing was true, but he couldn’t take his eyes away from the screen. When the clip ended he raced into the bedroom
and flipped on the light.
“What? What is it? What’s going on?” Ginny asked, alarmed. She sat straight up and watched Grizz jog to the safe hidden in their bedroom.
“I need to talk to Bill,” he huffed.
Grizz had a phone that he used only to communicate with Bill, and he rarely touched it. This was important, and Ginny could feel her heart racing as she climbed out of bed and ran to her husband.
“Tell me!” she cried when she got to him. “Tell me what’s wrong. Why do you need to talk to Bill right now? What’s so important?”
Ginny listened, stunned, as Grizz explained how he’d just seen a news broadcast about a man dying from a serious illness.
“The anchorman said he was a counselor at Camp Keowee, and the camp is under quarantine. That’s Mimi’s camp, right?” he asked.
Ginny nodded and quickly added, “I’ll check my phone to see if she texted. I’m sure she’ll be heading here. They can’t keep her there, can they?” She turned her back on him as she headed for her phone on her nightstand.
Grizz grabbed her arm and spun her around. “You don’t understand, Kit. They closed it down and wouldn’t let anybody in.”
Ginny breathed a sigh of relief, but something about the comment confused her. “Wait. What are you saying? They’re not letting anyone else in? Or they’re not letting the campers and counselors out?”
Grizz gently grabbed both of Ginny’s forearms. “Baby, they closed the camp and turned everyone away over a week ago. Mimi never got there. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
Ginny gasped as the significance of what Grizz was saying sunk in. “I need to call her. She must have her phone, right?”
“Don’t call her yet,” Grizz demanded. “Let me call Bill and have him activate the tracker on her car. If she’s back at school, then you can call her. Maybe she didn’t want to come home, and didn’t want to hurt our feelings.”
