No Strings

by Gerri Hill

  “If you keep nibbling, you won’t be hungry for dinner.”

  “But it’s so good. The last time I had turkey with stuffing, my dad was still alive.”

  “Dressing. Turkey and dressing,” Morgan corrected.

  “Traditional southern style cornbread dressing.”

  Reese leaned closer and kissed her lightly on the lips.

  “Whatever it is, it smells fabulous.” Reese grabbed her cell phone from the counter. “I’m going to check in with Carlton, make sure everything’s quiet,” she said.

  Morgan stared at her retreating back, smiling at Reese’s concern over the sheriff’s office. With Googan out for at least three months, Reese was forced to hire Carlton back on. She’d told him his job was that of traffic cop, nothing more, but she checked up on him constantly.

  She went back to her turkey, thinking of the quick kiss Reese had given her. Since the night of Googan’s accident, things had changed between them. It was her fault, she knew. If she just hadn’t given in to that basic instinct to kiss, maybe things would be as they were. But no. The intensity of their lovemaking went to nearly unbearable heights with the addition of kissing. Yes, it was more intimate. It was more real. The looks they now shared held a deeper tie than just between lovers. Yes, they were lovers.

  But they’d also grown to care about each other.

  So yes, things had changed between them. They both knew it, yet neither mentioned the shift in their relationship. Changes, yes. But still the same. Reese was still leaving in November. That had not changed.

  Morgan sighed, wondering how she was going to stop herself from falling in love with the woman.

  §

  Reese folded her phone, satisfied Carlton was doing nothing more than playing solitaire on Eloise’s computer. All was quiet. As it should be on this snowy Christmas Day. She couldn’t imagine it being any more complete. Light snow falling, making everything postcard perfect, the smells of Christmas dinner filling the cabin, and a beautiful woman to share it with.

  Reese went to the large picture window and stared out, feeling contentment she hadn’t felt in her adult life. And it was certainly not something she ever expected to find here in this lonely little town.

  Yet lonely was the furthest thing from her mind when dawn woke them this morning. Morgan was snuggled close, her arm wrapped around Reese’s waist. And Reese had held her, her fingers moving lazily across her skin, feeling the stirrings of desire from even such a simple act. But it was enough. And when Morgan lifted her head, seeking her lips, Reese was there, rolling them over, touching Morgan everywhere, starving for her as if it were the first time, bringing Morgan to orgasm as her lips suckled her breast.

  She closed her eyes, remembering how Morgan had called her name as she climaxed, remembering how Morgan had reciprocated, had boldly spread her legs and made love to her with her mouth.

  January was right around the corner. By April, everyone would be gearing up for summer, and by May, the tourists would start flocking to the area. Morgan would be busy during the summer, working nearly every day. Then fall and hunting season.

  And then November would roll around. November was election time. And November meant freedom. A new interim sheriff would be named and she would be free to go, free to leave this tiny little town that she so despised when she first got here.

  She sighed. The thought of leaving here just didn’t hold the same elation it once had. Leaving here meant leaving Morgan.

  So much for her well concocted plan that they could spend the year having sex and remain unattached emotionally. What had she been thinking?

  Well, she’d thought that they would get together a few times a month, have sex, then go their separate ways. She never dreamed that she’d want to have Morgan in her bed every night, whether they made love or not. She never dreamed that Morgan would want her company on a daily basis as well. And of course, she never dreamed that the sex would be this great.

  “Hey.”

  She turned, finding Morgan watching her.

  “You okay?”

  Reese nodded. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

  She turned back to the window and felt Morgan move closer.

  Her eyes closed as Morgan slipped her arms around her from behind, resting her head on Reese’s shoulder.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Reese smiled. “I thought you hated the snow.”

  “Not on Christmas. You can’t hate the snow on Christmas.”

  Reese turned and faced her, pulling Morgan into her arms.

  She felt Morgan’s lips nuzzle her neck and she waited, feeling Morgan’s mouth move across her face, finally to her lips. A slow, tender kiss, lips on lips, just the barest touch of tongue.

  “I love kissing you,” Reese murmured.

  “Mmmm.”

  And just like that, their kisses grew bolder, more demanding, and the fire was started between them. And as often occurred, they didn’t make it to the bedroom, being satisfied with the rug in front of the fireplace. Their clothing slowly disappeared, hands and mouths taking its place against their skin.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  “It’s April,” Morgan said dramatically as she pointed out the window, “and there’s a freakin’ blizzard blowing in.” She stared at Tina. “Can you believe that?”

  “Oh, my God. Like it’s the first blizzard we’ve ever had in April.”

  Morgan sighed in frustration as she huffed back to her desk.

  “I want to see the ground. I want to see a damn flower. I want to see some green. Is that too much to ask?”

  “I see someone’s got spring fever,” Tina said. “Isn’t it enough to have me back in the office? Must you have sunshine too?” she teased.

  “And how exactly did you talk Charlie into hiring you back early?”

  “I told him I had cabin fever so bad that I was having dreams of hacking up my family with an ax.”

  Morgan laughed. “And he bought that? Isn’t that what you used last year?”

  “No. Last year I threatened to go postal and shoot up Sloan’s Bar.”

  “Oh, that’s right. And he made the mistake of telling Sloan.”

  “Speaking of telling, when are you going to spill it about you and the Chief?”

  Morgan felt her face flush. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Give me a break. This we’re just friends crap has got to stop. My sources tell me your truck hasn’t been at your house in months.”

  “Your source, little miss busybody Tracy, is wrong. I am often at my house in the evenings,” Morgan lied. Truth was, she hadn’t slept at her own house since January. But she did still go to her house for a change of clothes. It wasn’t like she was living with Reese or anything.

  “I just want to know why all the secrecy? So you’re seeing each other? The whole town knows. Why do you insist you’re not?”

  “Because the whole town doesn’t need to know everything, that’s why.” She met Tina’s gaze. “Yes, we’re seeing each other,” she said. There was really no sense in continuing the charade.

  “For a few more months, anyway.” She was surprised how those words stung.

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s only here until November.”

  “Oh. So what? This is like killing time?”

  “God, that sounds so cheap when you say it like that. But yeah. I suppose.” She didn’t feel the need to tell Tina about their arrangement.

  “Well, I guess there are worse ways to spend the winter.”

  Tina grinned. “I bet she’s good in bed.”

  “No, no, no. I will not go there with you.”

  “Come on. You finally have a sex life and you won’t share?”

  Morgan hesitated. Part of her wanted to confess to Tina that she thought she was in over her head with Reese. But she thought better of it. She really wasn’t up to going over all of the rules of their relationship, and how she was on the verge of breaking every one of them. So she gave
in. A little.

  “The sex is beyond fabulous,” she admitted with a grin. “It’s the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. In fact—”

  “You don’t have to rub it in.”

  “You asked.”

  §

  It was still snowing when Morgan drove to Reese’s cabin late that afternoon. It was the kind of snow where the clouds hung low, blocking out the mountains, bringing a heaviness to everything around. The branches of the spruce trees were laden with snow, straining to keep their shape as they drooped to the ground.

  She hated spring snowstorms. Hated them. Just when you thought things were beginning to thaw. Just when the ice was starting to break on Lake San Cristobal. Just when there’d been nearly a week of sunshine, the streets in town finally snow free, this happens. Snow, snow and more snow. And she knew if it weren’t for Reese keeping her occupied, she’d have snapped by now.

  But she was pleasantly surprised to see smoke twirling out of the chimney and Reese’s truck parked out front. Reese hadn’t beaten her home in a long time. She paused. Home. Yeah, it felt like home here. Amazing, but it did. She had her tiny house in town where she and Jackson had lived for seven years, yet Ron Brightmen’s hunting cabin felt like home. Whether it was because Jackson wasn’t there anymore or because Reese was here, she didn’t know.

  Reese was adding another log to the fire when she walked in, and she hung her coat beside Reese’s on the rack.

  “Still coming down pretty good, huh?”

  “Damn April storm,” Morgan muttered as she joined Reese by the fire.

  Reese laughed. “Yeah, I knew you’d be cranky.”

  “It’s supposed to be spring.”

  “It’s barely April.”

  “It’s mid-April,” Morgan corrected, then covered Reese’s mouth with her hand when she would have spoken again. She felt Reese’s tongue wet her palm and she pulled away smiling.

  “What do I smell?”

  “Dinner.”

  Morgan raised an eyebrow. “You cooked dinner?”

  “Of course not. But I didn’t think you’d be in any mood to, so I stopped by Sloan’s for the famous double-battered fried chicken.”

  Morgan leaned closer and kissed Reese. “That was very sweet of you.”

  “Tracy said she missed you, by the way.”

  Morgan rolled her eyes. “I saw her at lunch.”

  “Well, you know, maybe we could go by there occasionally for a beer and burger, like we used to.”

  “You mean, seeing as how the whole town knows about this affair anyway?”

  Reese smiled. “Yeah, that. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “No, I guess I don’t. I don’t know why I thought we could keep it a secret anyway.” She didn’t mention Tina’s definition of their affair as just killing time. She didn’t want to think about that.

  “Oh, did you know Lou’s Grocery rents DVDs?”

  Morgan laughed. “Yes, but what were you doing at Lou’s?”

  “Before the fried chicken idea, I thought I might surprise you and cook dinner.” She grinned. “However, I quickly saw that I was overambitious. He did have frozen pizza though. I nearly got that.”

  Morgan was touched by Reese’s thoughtfulness. And surprised at how quickly Reese had gotten to know her moods.

  No, cooking dinner was the last thing she wanted to do after brooding over the snowstorm all day. She thanked her with a lingering kiss on the mouth, but pulled away when Reese’s hands slid up to her breasts.

  “I’m starving,” she said with a smile. “You’ll have to wait.”

  Much later—after dinner and after bed—after Reese had made love to her so thoroughly, Morgan lay awake, relishing the feel of Reese’s arm across her waist, the soft breath caressing her skin, the involuntary twitching of Reese’s hand as she slept. All things Morgan had grown to love, and all things she knew she was going to miss when Reese walked out of her life. Six more months. That’s all she would have. Six more months. And then they would say their goodbyes and go about their own lives, and all of this would be just a fond memory to look back on.

  She told herself she wouldn’t fall in love with Reese. She told herself to just enjoy the sex and be done with it. And yes, she did enjoy the sex. As she’d told Tina, it was the best she’d ever had.

  They were so attuned to each other’s needs, each other’s desires, that their lovemaking was nearly effortless, two people giving and receiving pleasure as naturally as could be. But it had long ceased being just sex. They made love. It was in the way they looked at each other, the way they touched, the way they kissed.

  She wondered how difficult it would be for Reese to leave come November. Would it hurt her as much? Would her heart ache as Morgan knew hers no doubt would? Or would she be able to separate it all and remember that what they shared was a no strings sexual arrangement? Nothing more, nothing less.

  Would Reese be able to do that?

  Morgan closed her eyes, her heart heavy on this cold, snowy April night. She turned her head, her lips brushing across Reese’s face. She felt Reese’s arm tighten around her and she smiled. Yes, one of the many things she would miss.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  “My, God, it’s the sun,” Morgan said sarcastically two days later as it finally peeked out, the snow clouds—at last—moving on.

  “Yeah, crazy weather,” Charlie said. “We’re going to be in the fifties tomorrow and in the sixties on Friday.”

  Morgan stared at him. “That’s not good.” As much as she wanted spring to get here, that was too warm too fast. Especially after the high country just got five feet of fresh snow.

  “I know. Ripe for avalanches. We should probably post the warning signs at the trailheads. After all this snow, I’d guess we’ll have a few skiers head up to our mountains here.”

  “Probably should close Cutter’s Ridge too. At least at the top. The back side of the mountain, besides Cutter’s Chute, has what? Four or five other avalanche chutes?”

  “I say five, even though those yahoos in the department claim only four meet the criteria.”

  “We want to put the red flag up?”

  “Yeah. Let’s hold off on the black until we hear something.”

  And it didn’t take long. Within minutes, reports were coming in of avalanches running all across the state, the most severe in Aspen where a massive fall had covered the road, burying three cars. The recommendation for black flag warnings on all susceptible trails had come.

  Morgan scrambled to find the signs they hadn’t had to use in two years. Berta insisted she’d put them in the storage shed in the back, but after fifteen minutes of searching, Morgan couldn’t find them. She trudged back through the snow and into the back room to tell her as much.

  “I don’t know what you did with them then,” Berta said.

  “That’s where I put them.”

  Morgan put her hands on her hips. “Do you mind helping me look, Berta? This is kinda important,” she said impatiently.

  “Maybe Tina put them somewhere. You know how she’s always cleaning up.”

  “Then do you mind calling her?”

  Morgan went into the supply closet where she knew where the flags were, at least. Only twice had she had to put up the black flags. The red warning went up nearly every year for Cutter’s Ridge, even though technically Cutter’s Chute was on private property. The other four active chutes that were near trails were all on public land. And the one that wasn’t officially recognized—Cinnamon Chute as the locals called it—dumped its load yearly on the Alpine Loop.

  “Tina said she put them in here,” Berta said as she stuck her head inside.

  “In here?” Morgan turned around, looking between the bookcase and the wall, the only place the signs would fit. And sure enough, there they were. “So all of our other signs are kept out in the storage shed,” she said, “but Tina felt the need to keep these in here?” She shook her head. Tina had a tendency to clean and tidy up the place when she
was bored. And inevitably she would put something in an odd place and they could never find it. Paul claimed she did the same thing at home. “Tell her to keep her grubby hands off my signs,” Morgan said as she brushed past Berta, signs tucked under her arm.

  The drive to the trailhead was made with her window open, and Morgan couldn’t believe how warm it had gotten in the last hour. But it happened sometimes when late season fronts dumped snow then stalled over the plains, only to back up as a warm front pulling in tropical breezes from the Gulf. The avalanche danger was high, sure, but the prospect of hitting sixty tomorrow had her nearly giddy. Spring—real spring—was right around the corner.

  She could feel it. Oh, they’d still get the occasional dusting of snow, but it would be gone by midday.

  “God, I love it,” she said as she stood on the trailhead, taking a deep breath of the cool mountain air, so pure it nearly hurt her lungs. She turned a circle, enjoying the quiet, listening to nothing except the occasional call of a nuthatch as it fought through the snow to reach the branches of the trees to forage for seeds.

  She pulled one of the TRAIL CLOSED signs from the truck and got her hammer and went about finding a spot to put it. The snow was deep, so she used her boots to scrape back enough to find solid ground. She wasn’t too worried about the sign though.

  It would only be up for a couple of days. If the avalanche chutes were going to run—and with this warm weather she had no doubt they would—they’d drop their load of snow within twenty-four hours.

  She was just driving away when her cell rang. She slowed as she rounded the corner onto the forest road, her tires slipping on the snow. “Hey, Charlie, what’s up?”

  “Cinnamon Chute just ran,” he said. “Got a call from the road crew. Damn near buried a snowplow.”

  “What were they doing up on the Alpine Loop anyway?”

  “Oh, you know Brightmen’s got connections. He’s probably worried all this snow will cut into his Jeep rentals.”

  Morgan rolled her eyes. “He’s got another six weeks before he can even think about his Jeep tours. Good grief.”