by CF Frizzell
Mike nodded. “When I checked in at the office for the okay to shoot here, the secretary asked if it was true that you two are dating.”
“Jesus, Lisa? You’re kidding.”
“I don’t think I’ll tell Mel. She’s worried enough about what her grandmother will hear today at the hair salon. That place is the Fox News of Tomson, for God’s sake.”
“Just great. She’d sounded optimistic on the phone. Or maybe that’s what I wanted to hear.” Shay rubbed a hand across her tumbling stomach. “We’re not, you know. Dating. I mean, I’ll confess to wanting to, but…”
“I think she’s trying, Shay. That performance with Dick Turner really messed her up. She was pretty shaken. It put her worst fears right on the table. But,” and his face brightened, “I think she saw that she needs to take a stand.”
“I don’t want to add to the pressure she’s under, Mike, and I know I have.”
“You’re good for her, Shay. She’s the nicest person I’ve ever met. Hell, I couldn’t ask for a better boss, she’s so bright and talented. But she’s also a really considerate and fair person, hardworking and honest, and someone like that deserves to be happy. You make her happy. It’s plain to see.”
Despite his sincere endorsement, Shay still worried. Plain for all to see. Being paired with her sure added a rousing fanfare to Mel’s everyday routine.
“It’s so much more than people just learning who she really is.”
Mike chortled. “Oh, for sure. And being with you makes a statement, no offense of course. Around here, it’s nothing to see a woman in jeans and boots come in off a ranch riding a bike or an ATV, but a stranger on a show-stopping Harley, a strong-looking city woman with hair as short as mine?” He elbowed her arm. “She gets noticed.”
“I’ve put her on the spot, I know.” Will being patient be enough? Will time enable Mel to climb out of this hole? Or will time just add rungs to the ladder?
Mike pawed through the bag hanging off his shoulder and produced a different lens. He swapped it for the one on his camera as he softly spoke his mind. “Some people fall back into their comfort zones when they come face-to-face with change. Like the ones dead set on killing the whole Heights project, for instance. Rather than think it through, they throw up barriers like stereotypes and preconceived notions. They perceive a threat to something they’re used to, they get very protective.” He snorted as he looked through the new lens. “Ironically, the Heights did turn out to be a threat.”
“Well, I couldn’t care less if I’m perceived as a threat. What matters is how they treat Mel.”
“Hey, she’s stronger than she thinks. That’s my opinion. And you’re you. Only one’s got a right to make you change is you. You aren’t going to start wearing lipstick and carrying a purse, are you?”
Shay laughed lightly. “No.”
“Well, all right then. Everyone’s entitled to that self-determination the long-timers brag about out here, and sometimes I think they forget that. It’s important for people see a woman standing tall. Important for Mel to see and be that woman.”
“I’m glad you work with her, Mike. I get the feeling you add a lot more than pictures to the Chronicle.”
Chapter Nineteen
Mel expected Sonny’s place at least to look deserted when she pulled in, but seeing both bay doors open, a gleaming motorcycle inside, and the overhead lights on told her otherwise. Riding this damn emotional roller coaster was going to kill her. She needed this, to see Shay and try to mend what they’d ripped apart several days before. Is keeping a lid on us until spring too much to ask? Is it possible? More than anything, she yearned to be herself, even though her self-discipline was worn and tenuous at best.
These past few days, she’d used up almost all the strength and confidence Shay had lent her. She conceded that it had been one bitch of a week; that Nana brooding about God-knows-what the biddies said at the salon had been infuriating, and that impacting the lives of everyone in town with a monster news story had drained her. But she’d come to acknowledge that the void widening inside her felt like heartache. Unwise of her to feel this connected to Shay, Mel knew, considering she still held the Chronicle as the center of her world, and needed to placate her father for eight more months. But God knows, she’d done a pitiful job showing how much she valued the connection to Shay the last time they saw each other. And being connected to Shay had started to mean a great deal.
A classic Chuck Berry song rocked out into the lot as she looked around the bays.
“Good evening! Anybody home?” She peeked into the empty office, then turned and spotted the motorcycle boots extended from beneath a Honda in the second bay. She nudged one with her foot and crouched.
Shay rolled out on a creeper from under the car and checked out Mel’s denim cutoffs and the tight red tank top. A brilliant smile took control of the smudged, rugged face, and Mel felt her body temperature rise. An overwhelming rush filled her chest, and she shook her head at the powerful, physical effect Shay had on her.
“God, Mel, you’re hot. Wow.” Shay sat up and dropped the wrench to the concrete floor. “If I wasn’t such a wicked mess, I’d risk pulling you down here right now.”
Mel laughed and they rose together. “And I think you look just fine. Grease and all.” She rubbed at a smudge on Shay’s cheek with her thumb. “It’s so good to see you.”
Shay stepped closer, a hint of caution in her normally care free manner.
“I hoped I’d see you tonight.”
The intimacy hummed through Mel’s system and she wanted more, but the hint of uncertainty in Shay’s bearing reminded Mel that she had to make things right. She forced herself to focus on the brown paper bag in her hand. “I wasn’t sure if you’d had time to eat, so I brought you supper. Some of the fried chicken and potato salad we had tonight.”
Shay quickly grabbed the rag in her back pocket and wiped her hands. “Oh, Mel. That’s…thank you. Did you make this?”
Mel’s chin jutted up haughtily. “Fried chicken is my specialty.”
“You are an amazing woman. Let me wash up.” Shay bolted for the rest room. “Make yourself comfortable in the office. I’ll be right there.”
Mel wandered out to the front counter. She tried to settle her jittery nerves by scanning the merchandise on shelves, the miscellaneous notes and signs on the walls, and then lowered the blaring volume on the radio. Shay returned with Diet Pepsis for each of them and hurriedly cleared away clutter on the desk and rolled the spare chair closer. Finally, she stopped bustling and abruptly took Mel’s face in her hands. Mel’s toes literally tingled. Her eyes moistened. There is no way in hell I can turn this off.
“I’m so sorry, Shay.”
“Shh. Don’t. I owe you an apology. I’m sorry I pressured you.”
Mel held Shay’s hands to her own cheeks. “I was terribly unfair, selfish, and that’s not me at all. Why, how I could be like that with you, of all people, someone who…I…I’m sor—”
“Mel. I should have understood. I was frustrated, only thinking of myself, and that’s not me, either. I don’t want ‘us’ to end.” She bent her knees enough to meet Mel’s eyes directly. “Just tell me there is an ‘us.’”
Short of throwing her arms around Shay, all means of conveying her answer paled. Words wouldn’t measure up. Yes, she wanted an “us,” to her body and soul she could feel it. But…
She reminded herself that eight months could pass in a blur, that she could survive it if Shay meant what she said. Having an “us” was just right.
She reached around Shay’s waist and drew them together, fit herself to the length of Shay’s filthy coveralls.
“There’s no denying it, Shay.” She brushed her nose along the side of Shay’s, across the scar on her cheek. “I don’t know how I ever thought I could set this aside or, God forbid, let it slip away. Not you.” She brought her lips to Shay’s, tightened her arms around her, and offered all the sincerity she could. Shay squeezed her closer, but kissed her with
a reservation Mel knew was her own doing.
She drew back and ran her palms reverently over Shay’s shoulders. “For so long, I’ve been ridiculously consumed by my work, not giving my reality an ounce of attention, maybe because it’s been easier to juggle that way. These things do take time.” She spoke steadily, with hope that Shay understood the need for patience. A lot of it. Eight months’ worth. “Everything about this, about us, feels so powerful. No one has ever taken my heart in her hands the way you have.”
Shay’s fingertips guided a strand of Mel’s hair from her cheek, a tender stroke from a powerful hand that weakened Mel’s bones, sank her into a deep, rich contentment she recognized as complete surrender. She laced her arms around Shay’s neck and Shay’s lips met hers, softly at first, and then with growing hunger.
Heavy, reassuring hands roamed her back, firm along her spine, and one ventured lower, covered her hip pocket and squeezed. Breathing heavily as her sex clenched, Mel kissed her hard, drove encouraging fingers up into Shay’s hair. Shay’s tongue skimmed hers, again and again until Shay momentarily gripped Mel’s between her teeth. Mel moaned and leaned upward into their kiss. She needed this, craved it, and sensed she’d shatter irrevocably without this connection. She clutched Shay to her, drew on her upper lip. Shay uttered a low growl, slid both palms beneath Mel, and lifted as she covered Mel’s mouth with her own. Mel teased her tongue into Shay’s mouth and wrapped her legs around her hips.
Urged back against the door to the bays, Mel gasped, the sensation of Shay crushed against her, pressed between her opened legs, made her mind blur. She buried her face in Shay’s neck and kissed the solid muscle down to the neckband of her T and back up to her jaw, along her chin and up to Shay’s mouth. Home again. Shay’s fingers dug deeply into her ass and massaged, crawled lower, her breath hot and sporadic on Mel’s throat and shoulder.
Shay’s mouth fell to the scooped neck of Mel’s tank top, and she kissed all the bared chest within reach. Breasts aching for attention, the urge to shed top and bra so strong, Mel fisted Shay’s hair and dove into her mouth. Shay growled louder, and Mel’s pulse quickened. She sucked Shay’s tongue greedily, her drive heightened by those long fingers beneath her, nearly at her overheated crotch.
She squirmed as arousal mounted, shifted higher in Shay’s arms, and Shay plunged her face into Mel’s breast. Head and shoulders bumped the door as Mel reflexively leaned back, offering. She hissed when Shay claimed a taut nipple through all the fabric.
“I want you, Mel.” Her voice a muffled, agonized moan, Shay pressed fingertips fervently between Mel’s legs, rubbed upward along the seam of her shorts.
Mel’s body spiraled. “Jesus, I want you, too.” She wanted Shay over her, under her, inside her. Everywhere at once.
Shay looked up, as if seeking permission. She wants it all and so do I. Mel smothered her with a kiss. She wanted to please Shay more than anything she’d ever wanted before. She needed to back up her promise, those words of apology, demonstrate the care she felt so sincerely. And she wanted to return the thrill Shay delivered with such raw, selfless passion.
A car door shut outside, and they jerked apart.
“No!”
“Damn it!” Shay said on an exhale.
“Ladies’ room.” Mel straightened her tank top as she spun away. Somebody’s bound to put two and two together. Us two. Really smart. At the sink, she steadied herself with several much-needed breaths. Jesus. Now, if only my knees would stop shaking. The heated cheeks had to go. She splashed water on her face to restore her usual coloring and dabbed at her smeared makeup with a paper towel. She’s incredible and we need so much more of that. She madly swiped her hair back into its clip and concentrated on the conversation reaching her from the office.
“Hey, Shay. How’s it going?”
“Mike. Hi. What brings you out here tonight?”
Thank God.
“I was just coming back into town and it dawned on me to ask about credentials for the weekend. Mel’s here?”
“Eh, yeah. She stopped by. Credentials?”
“Yeah, for Prairie Fire’s concert Sunday night. Maybe I should’ve asked about this earlier, because they probably will want a list of who’s authorized backstage.”
Mel joined them, relieved not to be a disheveled mess, even though her flushed cheeks were a lost cause. Mike raised an eyebrow and she scowled back as many comments rushed to mind. Thanks one hell of a lot was one.
“Guess you forgot that I submitted our names last week when I requested interview time.” She removed the clip she’d shoved into her hair and reworked it a bit neater. She saw him glance at Shay, curious and all-seeing. Ever the photographer.
“Oh, yeah. Damn, that’s right. Jeez. I-I’m sorry, you know, eh, for interrupting.”
“Shay was about to eat,” Mel said, and stepped behind the desk and opened an aluminum foil package of chicken. Shit, did I just say that?
Shay shoved a hand back through her hair. “Yeah. Mel swung by with some supper.”
“Well, I’m glad you two are on good terms again.” Mike rubbed at the smirk he couldn’t hide. He shook his head. “Look, next time, at least make the place look closed, okay?”
Shay grinned as she sat down and bit into a chicken leg. Mel busied herself setting out the container of potato salad, napkin, and fork, all while hoping he’d disappear.
“We’re the talk of the town and then some, Mel.”
She looked up sharply. Shay stopped eating.
“The Heights stoppage story,” Mike explained. “People approached me about it at the coffee shop, the gas station, and a little while ago, at Home Depot. Everyone agrees it’s a shame. What’s even more interesting, though, is that nobody seems surprised.”
“We’re not the bad guys?”
“Well, one guy said he didn’t think it should’ve cost everyone time off from work, that it didn’t seem like a big enough deal to him. He felt pretty bad for the construction guys.”
Shay snickered and reached for the fork. “Wonder how he’d feel if his neighbor ignored the law and put a leaching field beside his well.”
“Exactly!” Mel quickly turned to her, bolstered by the support. She squeezed Shay’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary, Mel.” She swallowed a mouthful of potato salad and groaned appreciatively. “God, this is wonderful.” She wiped her mouth. “The Chronicle did a big-time thing today and you guys should be proud. But there are bound to be folks who don’t see the merit in it, so prepare yourself for some backlash.”
“Just what I need,” Mel said, slumping into the adjacent chair.
Mike stepped to the door. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. Thought I’d go by the office and make sure our windows are still intact.”
“And your house,” Shay said. “Who knows what some people would do, if they’re mad enough.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Mel said, her focus now far from romance. “I probably should check on Nana. Hopefully, there’s no lynch mob with torches and pitchforks on our front lawn.”
Mel picked up her keys and headed for the door, ushering Mike out ahead of her.
“Sorry I interrupted, Mel.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, y’know, you two need to find a better place than a wide-open garage.”
“If you’re insinuating that—”
Shay moved to her side, slid an arm around her waist, and drew her to her hip. “He’s not insinuating anything. He being pretty flat-out direct.”
Mike sent her triumphant grin. “Caught you red-handed, Mel.”
Shay turned slightly and whispered into Mel’s hair. “Red-handed is just about right.”
Mel pinched Shay’s stomach. “You be quiet. Don’t get him going. He’s bad enough on his own.”
Mike winked at Shay. “Gee, Mel, now you’ll have to deal with both of us.”
“God help me,” Mel sighed. “And no winking. Don’t think for a second you’r
e getting into cahoots with this one.” She eyed Shay sideways. “You’re dangerous, you are.”
She couldn’t help but grin at Shay’s mock innocence. She knew, when Shay pulled her into a tight hug, that Shay and Mike were sharing some victorious signal. But what truly mattered was freely holding Shay at this precise moment. I owe you honesty, Shay, no matter how it’ll make you’ll feel about me. She backed away, sliding her palms along Shay’s arms until their fingers entwined.
“Finish your supper.”
“Yes, Mom. This was fun. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
Mel cocked her head. “Yes, won’t we.”
Mike opened his car door and looked back to the doorway. “Lay a big wet one on her, Shay!”
Mel yelled over her shoulder. “Get lost or you’re fired.”
“Hell no. I’m not missing this!”
“Pervert.”
Shay stepped up. “Let him watch,” she whispered.
Mel almost lost her breath when Shay swept her off her feet. Swirling in circles, laughter came automatically, a simple profound joy, and Mel squeezed Shay as close as she could. If only they could do this any time, any place, she thought, and when Shay set her down and softly cupped her face, she knew she saw the same desire.
“I so wish I didn’t have to go.”
“The carnival opens at six tomorrow night.”
“I’ll find you.”
“I just bought a straw cowboy hat, so look for that.”
“Oh, right. That’ll narrow it down.” Mel raised up on her toes, linked her arms around Shay’s neck, and felt every muscle melt as she was drawn in snug against Shay’s body. Their lips met, eager and comfortably familiar, and Mel moaned as their kiss lengthened, lost within Shay’s embrace, lost in their kiss.
*
Shay drank her second cup of coffee while she stared out the front windows at the morning deluge. There were lakes in the driveway. She hated rain. Hated the look of it, the feel of it, the way it killed a motorcycle ride, the way it put a damper on everything, except making love in bed. Thoughts then took a decidedly different turn, until Coby ran in the back door.
