“No, I don’t think that would be a very good idea,” Taylor said, making her heart sink.
Just then, there was a loud knock on their door, sending Willow running for the bathroom since there was no place else to hide and she wasn’t dressed. From the bathroom, she could hear Taylor talking to someone, then the door shut and there was silence.
“You can come out; he’s gone,” Taylor called through the door.
“Who was that?” she asked when she came out of the bathroom.
“It was the owner of the hotel,” he said, then pointed over at the table by the window. “He said that the storm is only going to get worse; he brought us an oil heater and some candles in case the power goes out, which it probably will from what he says.”
Willow couldn’t hide her disappointment. “Guess we’re stuck here for a while.”
Taylor nodded. “The diner is going to close down in a couple of hours; do you want to go out for something to eat?”
Willow looked out the window at the storm and shivered, but she was starving and a hot meal sounded wonderful. “I am hungry,” she said.
“Okay then, you get dressed, and then we’ll go,” Taylor said, picking up his jacket off the chair. “I’ll go get the car started, so it’ll be nice and warm.”
When they walked into the diner, they were both soaked from the short trip through the parking lot, but Willow was immediately charmed by the little place. It was warm and inviting and if you didn’t look outside, it was easy to forget that there was a storm raging.
An older woman came bustling out of the back room. “Oh my, you’re both soaked to the skin; come on over here and sit by the stove,” she said, leading them to table at the back of the room.
Willow was thankful for the heat of the stove and the towels the woman handed them. “Now what can I get you to drink? A nice cup of tea or some coffee maybe? I just put on a fresh pot.”
“Coffee would be wonderful,” Willow said.
“Make it two,” Taylor said.
An hour later, they’d finished their meals, and Willow was feeling nostalgic. “I haven’t had a meal like that since I lived with my aunt when I was a little girl,” she said.
Taylor looked at her for a long time, as if searching his memory, then said, “I don’t remember you talking about living with your aunt.”
Willow shrugged her shoulders. “It wasn’t for very long; she was actually my great-aunt, and she passed away shortly after I went to live with her,” she said, surprised to hear the catch in her voice.
“That must have been hard; you’d already lost your parents,” Taylor said.
Willow wished desperately that she hadn’t started this conversation; although she’d told them that she was orphaned at a young age, she’d left out some of the details. “Well, I wasn’t with her for very long,” she said, hoping to end the conversation.
To her relief, just then the woman came bustling up to their table. “Looks like you two are finished,” she said, picking up their plates.
“Thank you; it was wonderful,” Willow said.
“Good, I put together a few things for you to take back to the motel so you don’t starve during the storm. I think Mac is keeping the grocery store open for a few more hours, too,” she said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She disappeared back into the kitchen, and Taylor excused himself to go to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back; maybe we should go check out the store, get some stuff to drink or whatever.”
Willow sat contently sipping the last of her coffee, letting the heat of the stove penetrate her body, knowing that they’d be soaked the minute they stepped outside. The woman came back with two huge bags of food and set them on the table.
“This should keep you and your man from starving for the next couple of days,” she said.
“Oh, he’s not my man,” Willow said, wishing he could be.
The woman looked a little embarrassed, then said, “I’m sorry, it’s just the way he was looking at you; it reminded me of the way my Henry used to look at me. We were married for forty years and every moment was pure joy. I still miss him even though he’s been gone for five years now; it’s like I lost a piece of myself when he went.”
Willow stared at her for a second, then asked, “How do you stand it?”
The woman patted Willow’s shoulder. “It hurts all the time, but I have my memories of the good times and the love we shared, and I wouldn’t give those up for anything. The pain is just the price I have to pay for the happiness he brought me.”
Just then, Taylor came out of the bathroom, and they both looked over at him, then the woman looked down at her. “If I were you, I wouldn’t waste a single moment of the time you have together,” she said, then patted Willow on the shoulder again, and walked off.
***Taylor***
When he got back to the table, there were two huge bags of food there, and Willow had a strange look on her face. “What’s all this?”
It took her a second to answer. “Oh, that’s so we don’t starve while we’re stuck here for the next few days,” she said, still not quite there.
“Did something else happen? You look, I don’t know, upset,” he said, sitting down across from her, his face full of concern.
Willow seemed to come out of the fog she was in. “No, I’m fine, just a little sleepy from all the food,” she said, but he didn’t believe her. “Let’s go see what they have to offer at the store.”
He got up and followed her to the door. “Wait here while I put the food in the car, and then we can go across the street. We could drive, but I think we’ll get just as wet.”
They ran across the street, shrieking when the cold rain hit them, soaking their jackets and hair almost instantly. The wind was still blowing, and occasional gusts whipped the rain into their faces, but the store was only across the street, so they had cover quickly.
Standing under the awning of the store, rain dripping from her hair, her cheeks pink, Willow shook her head like a dog and gave Taylor one of her few smiles. “I think this might be when I’m supposed to say thank you again,” she said.
Taylor’s heart began to pound in his chest, and desire raced through him, and he wondered what would happen if he kissed her right then. But he stopped himself and instead said, “I told you I’d always be there to protect you, even from the weather,” a teasing grin on his face.
“Well, I’m glad you are,” she said, then stepped up to him and kissed him on his cheek.
He was so shocked he just stood there as Willow opened the door and walked into the store. When he didn’t follow her, she turned back and asked, “Are you coming?”
A huge grin he couldn’t suppress broke out on his face, “Anywhere you go,” he said under his breath, then followed her into the store.
Half an hour later, they emerged from the store loaded down with more bags and exhausted from a lengthy history of the small-town, compliments of Mac, whose family had owned the store for generations. Willow was grinning as they ran through the rain and piled into the car, and he noticed that there was a little more color in her cheeks.
Blocked by the clouds, night fell early, but by the time it was truly dark, they were safely back in their room and ready for a long stay. Willow headed straight for the shower to warm up and he quickly changed into a pair of pajamas, wondering when he’d last worn them.
He hadn’t had much time to pack after he saw Willow headed into the trees, but he was glad he’d thrown them in since both pairs of his pants were now dripping wet. They’d dry by morning, but in the meantime, he’d have something to wear besides the sheet.
When Willow came out of the bathroom, he had the television on and was leaning up against the headboard of his bed. She was dressed in the long tee-shirt again, and just the sight of her bare arms and legs was enough to stir him. He could see the outline of her breasts and her nipples pressing against the thin cloth of her shirt and had to shut his eyes.
He heard the bed squ
eak when she sat down, then the rustling of the blankets. When it got quiet again, he opened his eyes and looked over at Willow, unable to stop himself. Relieved to see that she’d pulled the blankets up to her chin, he sighed and turned back to the television, wondering how he’d ever fall asleep with her so close.
But it wasn’t long before the sound of Willow’s even breathing as she slept began to make him sleepy. His eyes began to droop, so he shut off the television and closed them, letting visions of Willow take him into the land of dreams.
Only a few hours later, he was woken by a bright flash of light and a boom of thunder. He sat up in bed, just as Willow did, her eyes wide with fright. The next bolt of lightning hit just as close, and the walls of the room shook.
Willow screamed and backed up against the headboard, then began to rock back and forth, murmuring to herself. Taylor jumped out of his bed and crossed over to hers, sat down, and took her in his arms just as the next bolt connected with the ground not far from the motel.
She screamed again and buried her head in his chest and held onto him so tightly it was hard to breathe. The storm raged on for what felt like forever before finally moving off, the lightning and thunder becoming more distant as the storm moved away.
Soon, all that could be heard was the rain pattering innocently on the roof, the brutality of mother nature spent for the moment, and Willow’s arms began to relax around him. She took several shuddering breaths, then looked up at him, her eyes full of tears.
He smoothed the hair back from her face, and said, “I guess you’re afraid of storms.”
Chapter Fifteen
***Willow***
Willow felt the comfort of Taylor’s gentle fingers stroking her face, but she was locked in the past, tuned into the night her entire life changed. “I’m sorry,” she finally managed to stammer and tried to pull away from him.
“I think you’d better stay right where you are,” he said, making her want to cry.
But the feel of his arms around her made some of the demons fade away, and she began to feel stronger. Taking a shuddering breath, she tried to force the images that had haunted her for her entire life back into the little place she’d made for them in her brain.
“Have you always been afraid of storms?” Taylor asked, not knowing what he was asking.
She nodded her head, looked up at him, and before she could stop herself, she said, “My father died in a storm like this, and it was my fault.”
Taylor’s eyes widened with surprise; then they filled with doubt. “You were just a little girl; that’s not possible.”
Willow tried to move away from him again. “I didn’t mean to kill him, but he...” her words trailed off, a sob escaping before she could stop it.
Taylor’s entire body stiffened. “What did he do to you?” he asked, and Willow was sure she felt a surge of power fill the room.
She sighed, wishing she hadn’t said anything but knowing that now she’d have to explain. Collecting her thoughts, she decided maybe it was for the best; Taylor needed to know the truth, needed to know that she was capable of killing if she wanted to.
“He didn’t really do anything to me until that night. I mean, he wasn’t exactly nice to me, I think sometimes he hated me,” she said, her voice shaking.
“He was your father. How could he hate you?” Taylor asked, tightening his arms around her when she began to tremble.
“He blamed me for my mother’s death; she died when I was born, and he said that after she died, nothing was ever good again. The crops died, he remarried a woman who was nothing but evil, and blamed me for all of it,” she said, unable to meet his eyes.
“But none of that could have been your fault,” Taylor said, wishing he could punch the man who’d hurt Willow so much.
Willow took a deep breath and prepared herself to tell him the rest. “The night it happened; he’d been drinking a lot. I think he was probably drunk before he came in from the fields, but I don’t know for sure. I’d been sitting on the porch all afternoon because my step-mother wanted me out of the way, playing a game with the clouds, watching them move across the sky.”
She closed her eyes, her body tense with the memory, then went on. “He came up on the porch shouting about the coming storm, about the seeds he’d just put in the ground, and the unfairness of life. When the rain hit, it came down so hard, it washed the seeds right out of the ground as we watched. I had no idea what it meant, but my step-mother knew and as soon as she saw the seeds floating by, she turned on me and started screaming that it was my fault.”
Willow wasn’t sure she could go on, but Taylor started rubbing her back. “This happened a long time ago, Willow; it wasn’t your fault.”
She shook her head. “There’s more,” she said, then snuggled a little deeper in his arms, feeling his strength fill her.
“I jumped up off the porch and ran through the storm to the barn, but they followed me, my step-mother screaming at my father to get rid of me and my magic once and for all. I was crouched in an empty stall when my father burst through the gate with a pitchfork in his hands, my step-mother screaming behind him to kill me,” she said, then sucked in a deep breath and rushed on.
“He raised the pitchfork, ready to plunge it into me, so I raised my hands in front of my face and screamed, wishing that he was dead. He was just about to bring the pitchfork down when his face went funny, and he collapsed on the floor of the barn. He was dead, Taylor, and I know I’m the one who killed him,” she said, unable to stop the sobs that burst into life as the last words left her mouth.
Taylor held her as she cried, letting her pour out all the guilt and shame she’d been living with since that day. When she was cried out, he tilted up her chin and wiped her face with the edge of the sheet.
He looked into her eyes and said, “Willow, what happened to your father wasn’t your fault; the storm wasn’t your fault, his choice of a wife wasn’t your fault, and his death wasn’t your fault,” he said, holding her face when she tried to look away.
“But I wished he were dead,” she whispered, searching his face for any sign that he was lying to her.
“I think he had a stroke or something; he’d been drinking and, from what you said, was clearly out of control. But even if you did kill him, you were just a little girl, and he was trying to hurt you; you were only protecting yourself,” he said. “Would it have been better if he’d killed you?”
Willow shook her head. “But if I’d...”
“What? What could you have done to stop him?” Taylor asked. “Have you ever told anyone about this? Your aunt? Anyone?”
She shook her head again. “My step-mother left me alone at the farm the next day, my father’s body still in the barn. I went to live with my aunt after that, but I was too afraid to tell her what happened. I thought I’d go to jail.”
Taylor began to rock her; the sound of the rain on the roof no longer scared her so much, and she felt herself relax. “You’ve lived with this for a long time, but I think it’s time you stopped blaming yourself. You were just a child, a child that needed someone to protect her,” he said, then kissed her on the forehead.
***Taylor***
Willow was silent for so long, he thought that she’d fallen asleep and wondered if he should tuck her in and go back to his bed. But then as if she’d read his mind, she looked up at him and said, “Stay here with me tonight.”
Taylor couldn’t have refused her request even if he’d wanted to; her blue eyes, still slightly puffy from crying, pleaded with him and he wanted nothing more than to make the pain she was suffering go away. If lying next to her for the rest of the night would do that, he’d suffer through it to make her happy again.
He smiled down at her, feeling the passion between them floating to the surface, and grinned. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I might accidentally slip and kiss you or something,” he said, making sure she knew that he was teasing but making his desire for her clear, ever hopeful that it woul
d be returned.
She reached up and ran her thumb from the top of his jaw across his cheek, and then his lips. “What would you say if I told you that I wanted you to kiss me, that I want you to make love to me,” she said, drawing her thumb across his lips again.
Taylor was paralyzed for a second, his brain trying to catch up with her words, but then his body began to throb with awareness. “Willow,” he managed to say his voice coming out breathy, “are you sure about this? Do you understand what it means to me, to us?”
She nodded and stroked his face again. “I think I understand better than you do, but someone gave me some very good advice tonight, and I think I’m going to take it.”
He was tempted to try and talk her out of it, but the look in her eyes made the words stick in his throat as desire raced through him. Bringing her hand up to his lips, he kissed the middle of her palm, making her gasp with pleasure then, looked deeply into her eyes again.
“I want more than anything to make love to you, Willow. I have from the moment you opened your eyes and looked up at me on that boat, but I want you to be sure. I don’t want any regrets in the morning; once we take this step, there won’t be any turning back for me.”
She didn’t answer him at first, and he was afraid she’d changed her mind, but then she reached up, pulled his head down, and kissed him. Her tongue darted into his mouth, and he groaned as pleasure rushed through him, pleasure so intense, so pure, that for a second, he couldn’t breathe.
“I’m tired of fighting fate, Taylor; it’s too strong for me,” she said, reaching up and unbuttoning his pajama top. “We’ll face what comes in the morning; right now, I just want to know what it feels like to be naked in your arms.”
Taylor groaned, his body on fire for Willow as she pushed his top off and onto the floor and ran her hands over his chest. He crushed her to him, covered her mouth with his and kissed her, his tongue sliding in and out of her mouth, making her purr with pleasure and his body harden at the sound.
Dragon's Flame (Dragons Secret Society Book 3) Page 9
