Laura's Secrets

by Shannon Greenland

"Not really, but it takes two people. Can I talk the adventurous side of you into it?"

  He looked like a little boy excited to play with his toys. How could she resist him? “Sure. Sounds like fun."

  "Alright!” He bounced off the bed. “Can you be ready in ten minutes?"

  Laura threw the covers aside. “I'll be ready in five."

  "My kind of woman.” He dropped a kiss on her mouth and bounded down the stairs.

  She smiled, enjoying his silliness and the easy affection between them.

  * * * *

  Laura stood in the frosty pasture, her hands planted on her hips, staring hesitantly up at Will. She looked cute snuggled in a coat with a scarf wrapped around her neck and earmuffs secured over her head.

  "Are you sure about this?"

  He looked down at her from his perch on back of the Jeep. “Yep. Now get in and stop wasting time."

  She sighed, sending a rush of frosty breath into the air, and climbed behind the wheel. She buckled her seatbelt, started the engine, and slowly pressed the accelerator.

  After a minute of going the same, boring speed, Will urged impatiently, “Come on, speed up."

  Over her shoulder, Laura gave him a mischievous look, then slammed her foot on the gas pedal. They shot forward in the field. The Jeep gave a hard lurch right, and then left, as it bounced over uneven ground. Will flung his arms in the air, hooting and hollering. He glanced down at Laura. Her face had taken on a thrill-seeking gleam.

  After ten minutes of weaving back and forth across the open field, Will yelled for her to stop. “Let's switch places."

  She shook her head. “I'm fine driving."

  "Oh, come on,” he teased. “Don't be a sissy."

  Laura slanted him a look. “The last thing I am is a sissy. Now strap me in."

  Will bit back a grin. She took his place behind the roll bar, and he helped her clip security straps to a special belt fastened around her waist. He drove slowly at first so she'd get the feel of it, then picked up speed. After a few minutes, he glanced up at her. Laura had a white-knuckled, death-grip on the roll bar, but her face held a mixture of concentration and excitement.

  "Put your hands in the air,” he yelled over the engine. “You're strapped in, you'll be fine."

  In the rearview mirror, he watched her cautiously put one arm in the air and then the other. Her body began to jerk to all angles. A crazed, wild-eyed look took her over.

  Will whooped and laughed. “Thata girl! Now let loose with a yell."

  "Yeah."

  "Oh, come on. You can do better than that."

  Laura caught his gaze in the rearview mirror. She threw her head back. “Wahoo! Yippee! Alright!"

  This was exactly what Will had hoped to accomplish. He wanted her to feel carefree, lost in the moment, unselfconscious.

  He braked, unbuckled his seatbelt, and scrambled up to stand in front of her. He stared across the roll bar at her. She stared back, smiling, her cheeks and nose red from the cold, her breath gushing out from exhilaration. Will grabbed the front of her jacket and brought their mouths forcefully together. They stood there, lips closed but pressed firm to the other. Then they opened their mouths and thrust their tongues, circling, angling their heads right, left, back to the right again.

  As quickly as it had started, Will pulled back, kissed her once more hard on the mouth, and plopped back down into the driver's seat. “Ready for breakfast?"

  Laura gave a jerky nod and fumbled with the security straps.

  After she settled into the passenger seat, Will turned to her. “Wahoo? Yippee? Alright?"

  She gave a quick nod. “Wahoo. Yippee. Alright."

  They both laughed as he pulled out of the field.

  * * * *

  Laura hummed the same tune she'd been plucking on her guitar, while cutting tomatoes for omelets. Outside, Will chopped wood. The sound of the ax coupled with the crackling fire inside the cabin made things homey. She heard him crunch across the frozen yard, then knock his boots against the side of the cabin. He opened the door, and she glanced over her shoulder. He looked like an adorable hoodlum in his dark toboggan and sweatshirt. Little black clumps of hair curled out from underneath his wool hat.

  She went back to humming and preparing breakfast as he stacked the cut logs to the side of the fireplace. Then he came up behind her, braced his palms on the counter, and pressed his body against hers. Laura's hands stilled on the cutting board.

  He moved her braided hair over her right shoulder and nuzzled the left side of her neck. She'd chosen not to wear a turtleneck this morning for this precise reason. Laura closed her eyes and tilted her head to the right to give his nibbling lips better access. “Your nose is cold."

  "You think it's cold, wait until you feel this.” He slid his hands under her sweatshirt and criss-crossed them over her bare stomach.

  She gasped softly. He pulled her body tighter against his and rubbed his hands along her ribs and down across her stomach. “I love the feel of your body.” He pressed a warm, open-mouthed kiss to the back of her neck.

  "I'm making breakfast,” she said on a mindless exhale, then realized it was probably a stupid thing to say.

  Will let out a low, rumbly chuckle. “I can see that.” He stepped away, leaned his hip against the counter beside her, reached for some sliced ham, and popped it into his mouth.

  Slightly scatter-brained, Laura started chopping again.

  He swallowed his ham bite. “So, tell me about that music."

  She glanced at him inquiringly. “What music?"

  "The guitar piece you were strumming when I arrived yesterday. The same one you were humming just now, identical to the one I heard you playing months ago on the road."

  Laura shrugged. “It's nothing. Something I made up, that's all."

  "Well, I think it's incredible, and I'm about to surprise you with something.” He walked over to his suitcase, rummaged inside, then came back to the kitchen with his lyrics pad. “I've been messing around with this song for the better part of a year and haven't been able to put any notes to it. Then yesterday I walked in here, heard you playing, and knew they would go together perfectly."

  Laura scooped the cut tomatoes and put them in a bowl. “Forget it, Will, I'm not a songwriter."

  "Trust me, okay?"

  She glanced at his pad and then up into his appealing eyes. This obviously meant a lot to him. She turned on the faucet and rinsed her hands. “Do you want me to get my guitar?"

  Will shook his head. “You start humming, and I'll come in with the words when I feel it's right."

  Laura dried her hands on the dishtowel. She closed her eyes and began to hum.

  "Open up your heart and see what's inside.

  Now that we're apart, can't you see love's blind?

  I need you by my side to comfort me this night.

  Cross the seas with me and join me in my flight."

  She continued humming, soaking in the words as his smooth, baritone's voice enveloped them, filling the cabin with peace and love.

  When Will finished, she opened her eyes and stared into his. “That's the most beautiful song I've ever heard. I felt it through my soul."

  He leaned forward, pressed a lingering, tender kiss to her lips. “I'm glad you liked it,” he whispered and kissed her again. “Where's the apple cider?"

  Laura blinked at the swift change of topic. “Apple cider?"

  He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and held it between his teeth. “I can taste it on you."

  Her stomach lurched to her feet. She pointed over his shoulder at the refrigerator. Will slowly released her lip, then grabbed a glass from the cabinet. She refocused on the cutting board. What had she been making? Omelets, right.

  * * * *

  Will stared moodily into the flickering flames. Five days had gone by much quicker than he'd expected. Hard to believe he had to leave tomorrow. What wonderful days they'd been, though. He and Laura had walked the property, hand-in-hand, talking. Th
ey'd shared adventurous moments on his motorcycles and jogged the trails that cut through the woods. They'd played with Jake and tried without success to teach him tricks. They'd listened to music, sipped wine, cooked meals together. They'd kissed until Will felt he might explode.

  He wanted to make love to her, more than life. He wanted to explore every inch of her beautiful body, stroke her curves, show her pleasure until it spiraled through her, and she felt it, too.

  But something wasn't right. Each time he'd ventured further than kissing, she held back, had a look in her eyes that told him she wasn't ready. He was trying to understand and exercise patience, but he wanted more.

  And now here they sat, on their last night together, side-by-side on the couch, his arm draped along the back cushions with her head resting against his shoulder. It'd been an hour since either of them had said anything. Will suspected Laura felt as down-and-out as he did.

  "You okay?” she asked.

  He dropped his arm from the back of the couch and circled her shoulders. “I'm fine."

  "You're so quiet. I'm not use to that side of you."

  Will hugged her to him. “Just thinking, that's all."

  "About what?"

  "You and me."

  "Oh."

  "Laura?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I want to make love to you."

  Laura pushed up off the couch and went over to the fire. She grabbed the poker and picked at the logs. Will leaned forward, braced his elbows on his knees, and studied her. What was she thinking? Seconds ticked by as his heart banged harder and harder. Why wasn't she saying anything?

  After the longest pause in history, she put the poker down and turned to him. “I've thought about that, too, and I want to experience that closeness with you. But I'm not ready now. Can you understand?"

  Will sighed and dropped his head. “Is it me?” He lifted his eyes to hers. “Have I done something wrong?"

  "No,” she quickly responded. “You're fine. Perfect. I couldn't ask for a more wonderful man.” Laura shifted her attention to the throw rug beneath her feet and idly fingered the corner. “I've never been intimate with anyone."

  He'd suspected as much. “Are you scared?"

  "Not really. Not anymore. Hesitant about the unknown. But more importantly I want to be whole, emotionally, before we take that step.” She furrowed her brows. “I'll understand if you want to break things off."

  Will's heart broke in half. He'd bet his life she felt inadequate right now. Sliding off the couch, he crawled over to her and took her hands in his. “I understand. You come to me when you're ready. I'll wait however long it takes. Last thing I want to do is pressure you into something you're not ready for."

  He squeezed her hands. Laura lifted her eyes to his. “I have no intentions of breaking anything off. Okay?” She nodded. “I don't want you to be tense either. Relax and enjoy what we have.” She smiled slightly. He leaned forward and touched his forehead to hers. “You don't mind if I kiss you silly, though, do you?"

  Laura let out a weak laugh. Will pushed her back onto the rug and settled comfortably on top of her.

  * * * *

  At the small, private airport the next morning, Will and Laura sat in the Jeep holding hands. They stared out the windshield, watching the workers prepare Will's rented twin-engine plane.

  He sighed and turned to her. “I have something for you."

  "Will, you shouldn't have—"

  "Oh, hush, it's nothing really.” He pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to her. “I wanted to get you a cell phone, but after talking to the salesperson I found out that you wouldn't get a signal at the cabin. Then I checked into getting a phone line installed, but they tell me it'll be weeks because it's so far out. So I got you a calling card instead. You've got my itinerary, so you know where to reach me. I'll make sure the hotel staff knows your name and to put you through to my suite anytime, day or night.” He smiled. “You've also got my cell number. No excuses. Call me."

  "I've already got a calling car—"

  "Laura,” he warned. “Take it and say thank you."

  "Sorry. Thank you."

  The pilot signaled it was time to leave. Will let go of her hand, cupped her face in his palms, and kissed her. “I'm going to miss you."

  "Miss you, too."

  He opened his door, grabbed his suitcase from the backseat, and jogged toward the awaiting crew.

  Laura watched him make his way across the tarmac, her heart feeling more empty with each step he took. What if months went by before they saw each other again? What if she never got her job back? What if ... what if the plane crashed?

  When the last horrible question reeled through her head, she gasped for air. She tried to memorize everything about him. The fit of his jeans, his well-worn Nikes, the dark blue suitcase in his left hand, his brown leather jacket, the sound of his laughter, his scent, his voice. Oh, God, what did he smell like? What about his voice? What did it sound like?

  With a jittery hand, she reached for the door handle and stumbled out of the Jeep. “Will,” she shouted, then clamped her hand over her mouth.

  Every person on the field, including Will, turned toward her. He smiled, set his suitcase down, and opened his arms. She sprinted across the open field and landed hard against him. He squeezed her, rained kisses on her forehead, eyelids, cheeks, nose, mouth, and any other vacant spot on her face.

  Then he pulled back and with twinkling eyes rubbed their noses together. “There. We've given these people a lot to talk about, haven't we?"

  She nodded. “Be safe,” she whispered and reluctantly released him.

  Will boarded the plane, keeping his gaze glued to her tall, slender silhouette the entire time. As the plane taxied down the runway, he remembered the blue rabbit's foot. He'd forgotten to ask her about it.

  Thirteen

  * * * *

  Laura selected a can of corn beef hash, added it to her basket, and crossed over to the pet section. Jake was going through bones like candy. She picked his favorite off the shelf, turned toward the back of the store, and stopped cold.

  Aunt Jane.

  The older woman disappeared around the corner. Laura didn't even think. She dashed after her, rounded the aisle, and caught sight of her sidestepping a family.

  "Stop,” Laura yelled.

  The family looked up at her. She sprinted toward them, waving for them to get out of her way, made it to the end, and saw Aunt Jane leaving the store. Laura dropped her basket and bolted past the cash registers and out the door.

  She scanned the parking lot, the sidewalks, but saw no sign of her. A truck cranked its engine and pulled from its spot. Zeroing in, Laura studied the occupants. Two teenage boys.

  Another car spurred to life. She whipped to the right and fixed her gaze on it, watched it slowly make its way toward her. It stopped in front of the store. An old gentleman climbed out and bought a newspaper from a stand.

  "Miss, do you want these things you dropped?"

  Laura turned toward the Piggly Wiggly worker. “Did you see that lady? Tall, skinny, shoulder length, straight brown hair."

  The stock boy shook his head. “No, ma'am.” He held up her basket. “Do you want these?"

  She took it from him. “Yes. Sorry."

  He held the door open for her, and she walked through. As she stood in line at the register, she continued studying the parking lot through the bank of storefront windows.

  Did she imagine her? Maybe. Seemed too real, though. But she hadn't cowered. She hadn't been afraid. For the first time in her life she reacted exactly how she always wanted-strong, fierce, determined, proud.

  Laura paid for her groceries and exited the store, her chin up, back straight.

  I've come a long way.

  Then why did a sense of dread still loom over her shoulders?

  * * * *

  Friday night came, and Jay had nothing better to do than hang out in an Irish pub and drown his misery in beer.

&nbs
p; Around the curve of the bar sat two blondes. He'd told them he worked for Tourist, trying to impress them. It hadn't. They were flirting with another guy.

  On the barstools to his left perched a couple. They'd met an hour ago and were already pawing and feeling everywhere publicly acceptable. Why couldn't Jay be lucky enough to pick up a chick and get some action?

  Hunched beside him, an old man peered into the depths of his whiskey. He'd been that way for half an hour.

  Jay looked up at the clock hanging above the bar. Midnight. The bartender swore it'd pick up around eleven, but only ten people occupied the pub. As busy as it would get, Jay suspected.

  He reached for yet another cigarette. Did each one really take seven minutes off his life? Didn't matter, his life wasn't going anywhere anyway. All his careful maneuvering and planning had backfired.

  Laura had been dismissed. Sure. But Ed stepped right back in, and Jay still held the same damn position-right hand flunky to the Head Sound Engineer.

  Why had management skipped over him again? Didn't they think he could handle the job? Maybe Laura had recommended they call Ed back. The bitch. Jay had bent over backwards for her.

  He downed his beer. “Bartender, another one here."

  "Yo, Jay, you look about ready to keel over.” Someone slapped him hard on the back.

  Jay teetered forward from the impact and grabbed the bar for support. His head reeled. He had a pretty good buzz going. He glanced over and saw Kevin, one of the techies from the lighting crew, straddle the stool where the old man had been sitting. When had the old man left?

  Kevin signaled for a beer, flashed a quick grin toward the blondes, and turned to Jay. “You sure you should be slopping back all that beer. We've got to be at set up in,” he peeked at his watch, “seven hours."

  Jay sent Kevin a scowl and gulped back more beer. “I'm calling in sick tomorrow."

  Kevin's brows shot up. “The guys on the sound crew are gonna be pissed about that one. But, hey, I work lighting so what do I care?” He nudged Jay. “Don't worry, I won't rat on you."

  "Whatever."

  Kevin took a sip of his beer. “You okay, dude? You don't look like yourself."

  "As a matter of fact, no, I'm not okay.” Jay crushed his half-smoked cigarette in the metal ashtray. “Nothing ever goes my way. I've worked my ass off for Ed and Tourist for five years. Then when it's time for Ed to move on, he brings in some damn chick mixer to fill his slot."