Suspended

by Taryn Elliott

  “Cautious.”

  Her dark eyes softened in the low light from the dome light of the cab. “He’s harmless.”

  “You hope.”

  “I could take him.” She flexed her biceps, then dragged him down and nipped at his chin. “I’m not helpless, Shane.”

  He let her hand go reluctantly. “I know.”

  “You sure about that?” She took the flashlight and clicked it on under her chin. “We’re being rude to the man who’s come here to help us. So lighten up, all right?” She widened her eyes and crossed them before stepping back out. “Jasper. You gotta see this huge muffler. Maybe you can help Shane drag it off the side of the road so this doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

  “Sure. Let’s see what we got.”

  Shane rolled his eyes. The woman could talk the devil into a deal. While she showed off the tires, he gathered the phone chargers, a few bottles of water from the back, work gloves, his wallet, and her knapsack of tricks. This was going to put a serious dent in their travel money. At the best of times his tires were expensive. In Bumfuck, Nevada, who the hell knew how much they’d be. Luckily it was truck country, so they had a chance his size would be in stock.

  She was laughing, and Jasper had a starstruck look on his face. Typical. The woman was dangerous. Shane came up behind her and laid his hand on her neck and shoulder. She smiled up at him. His chest tightened as he swiped his thumb along her nape.

  Jasper put his hat back on. “We’ll get you folks back to Lund. I’ll give a shout-out to the Coopers at the church. We don’t have a hotel, but they have a room they let folks stay in. Nothin’ fancy, but it’ll do for a night.”

  “We’d appreciate that.”

  “Now let’s get this muffler off the road and get you guys into town.”

  Shane nodded and handed Kendall her bag. The wind kicked up, and rust flakes scored his jeans and boots by the time he and Jasper got the muffler across the road. It was damn heavier than it looked. No wonder it took out two of his tires.

  “The truck that dropped this bad boy probably sounds like a jet engine,” Jasper said.

  Shane grunted as they heaved it well into the bush. “That stupid muffler is going to cost me over five hundred.”

  “More like seven, I’m afraid. Your tires are big ones.”

  “Dammit.”

  “You gonna be able to pay that, son?”

  “Yeah.” It would take more than half of what they had left. With the price of gas, they were going to have to get creative. “Any day laborers out your way?”

  Jasper took off his gloves and tucked them into his hip pocket. “Not in Lund. We’ve got people movin’ on left and right.”

  “Yeah, that’s everywhere.”

  “Where are you two headed?”

  “We’ve got a place in New York.”

  He whistled. “That’s one helluva drive.”

  Shane rubbed the back of his head. “Sure is.”

  “At least your wife is a good sport.”

  “She’s not my wife.”

  “Girlfriend, then. I wouldn’t let that one get away for very long, son. She’s a bottle of sunlight and smiles. There’s always someone out there a little smarter than we are who’ll snap that up.”

  Shane looked over his shoulder. Kendall was perched on the end of the tow truck, her feet swinging. The light from the phone cast her face in overbright white. She looked up, a lopsided grin on her face. “Ready, Oscar?”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Oscar? Didn’t you—”

  “As in the Grouch.”

  Jasper laughed. “She’s a pistol.”

  “You have no idea.”

  His laugh got louder as he stuffed his hands back into his gloves. “Let’s get this on the flatbed. We’ll get you on the road by morning.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “Oh, and I’d go with married as your answer when you get into town. The town is a bit particular about a woman and a man together if they’re not married.”

  Shane paused with his glove half on. “Pardon?”

  “The town is kind of old-fashioned. God-fearing, and most of us are of the Mormon church.”

  “Well, shit. Er…shoot.”

  Jasper grinned. “What you do isn’t my business, but with the church being the only place to stay…”

  Shane tugged his gloves on. “I see your point.”

  Getting the truck on the flatbed was easier than he expected, but the drive itself took over an hour. Jasper called the church and okayed an overnight stay. The town boasted five hundred and thirty-seven residents. He couldn’t imagine where. Main Street was a desolate stretch of open spaces and a church on either end with a single stoplight in the center.

  “These are the towns in Stephen King books,” Kendall whispered.

  He pressed his lips together to swallow a laugh. Finally a gas station with one pump and a one-story building behind it came into view. Jasper’s name was in red letters over the bay doors. He kept on driving till the end of the street where a pristine white and brick church was lit up with floodlights. The spire was spotlighted to show off the simple spire.

  “Go on in and ask for Delinda. She’ll fix you guys up for the night. I have your phone number. I’ll call you with a figure in the morning.”

  “Thank you, Jasper.”

  He smiled down at Kendall, who sat between them on the seat. “You’re very welcome, Mrs. Justice.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and Shane pulled her from the truck before she could say anything. He waved, holding the duffel he’d grabbed before they loaded the truck onto the flatbed. The tow truck chugged away, and still she stood with her mouth open in shock.

  “Small-town life, babe. Jasper told me it was better to drop the hint we were married so we could find a place to stay tonight.”

  She peered up at him. “Seriously?”

  He took her hat from her and plopped it on her head, smoothing her curls behind her shoulders. “Afraid so.”

  “But we live in the twenty-first century. Surely they don’t still—”

  “Believe it, babe. You saw the sign as well as I did. With a town this size, how much change do you think goes on?”

  “Crap.”

  He slung his arm around her shoulders. “Want to play virgin and patient husband later?”

  She socked him in the stomach, and he gasped out a laugh. “Tie-her-up is fine. Role-playing is a no. Got it.”

  “How can you joke? We’re staying in a church basement. It’s probably blasphemy to have sex,” she whispered.

  “I doubt that’s what the preacher and his five kids think.”

  “How do you know he’s got five… Oh.”

  There was a photo beside the door with the community bulletins. A pretty blonde woman stood with a baby in her arms and four in varying ages around her.

  Shane linked their hands and went up to the door at the side of the building. He pressed the doorbell and took her bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

  “I can carry my own stuff—”

  “Let me play the doting husband, will ya?”

  The door opened, and the pretty woman from the picture stood before them, smiling. “You must be the couple Jasper mentioned.”

  “This is Kendall, my wife.” He didn’t even trip over the word. The idea wasn’t nearly as terrifying as it should be. He’d just met her, and she’d blown his world to hell, but the idea of her and forever didn’t send him running. He needed a damn lobotomy. “And I’m Shane Justice.”

  She ushered them in and led them to a small kitchen. “I’m Delinda Cooper. My husband is finishing up a visit to a ward member, but he’ll be back in a little while.” She gestured to a chair in the adjoining dining room. “You two look tired. Can I get you something to eat?”

  Kendall smiled back. “No, we don’t want to be a bother.”

  “It’s no bother. I’ll be right back.”

  Kendall sagged into a ladder-back chair and dropped he
r head onto her folded arms. “It’s not even eight o’clock, and I could sleep right here.”

  He smoothed her hair absently and looked around the room. Oak furniture infused with beeswax polish calmed him. It was a room that would have suited his mother. Understated and well cared for, the eight-foot table was perfect for large gatherings. Even in a town as run-down as Lund, he imagined there would be a feast for Thanksgiving.

  And this would be his first holiday alone. The pang of loss curled his fingers into her hair. She looked up at him; surprise changed to a soft questioning glance. Kendall read him far too easily. He drew his hand away, but instead of letting him go, she snagged his pinkie. He could pull away. She’d left it open for him to pull back if he wanted, but he didn’t—couldn’t. Soaking in her softness and laughter was addicting, and he found himself going to that well more often than was wise.

  Delinda came back with two covered plates, and he let her hand go. “You two must be just exhausted. Why don’t you eat, and I’ll make sure the room is ready.”

  “We don’t want to trouble you—”

  Kendall stood and took the plates. “We really appreciate the hospitality. I run a bed-and-breakfast myself. My mother is just like you. She needs to take care of all the people who walk through the doors.”

  Delinda blushed. “I don’t get much of an opportunity to do it, but I love it. Five kids keep me on my toes, though. And Jonathon.”

  Shane shut his mouth. Kendall had a sixth sense about people. The two women chattered on about kids and the husband. Before he knew it, he was sitting in front of a plate of meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and brussels sprouts, and Delinda had disappeared again.

  “How do you know what to say to these people? It boggles my mind.”

  She forked up a brussels sprout and held it out to him. “Some people just like to take care of people.”

  He turned his mouth away. “I suppose.”

  She laughed. “Eat your brussels sprouts, little boy.”

  He gave her a bland look. “No.”

  She popped it into her mouth. “They’re delicious.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “No, really. She seasoned them with all sorts of deliciousness. I’ll have to get the recipe for my mom. Most of our recipes revolve around perch or trout fish.”

  “Lots of fishing goes on? I’m trying to picture you with a fishing pole.”

  Her grin faded, and she focused on her plate. “Yeah, well, it’s not pretty.” Before he could ask her more about that, Delinda came back in.

  “There are towels on your bed and a minifridge stocked with water, juice, and some fruit. Help yourselves.”

  Shane stood. “Thank you for putting us up tonight. We appreciate it. Just let us know how much we can pay you—”

  “Oh, there’s no payment. We just help when it’s needed.”

  Shane sat. That wasn’t the way the world worked.

  Kendall covered his hand. “Surely we can donate to the church.”

  Delinda’s smile was wide and nearly rivaled Kendall’s in punch. “You do whatever makes you happy.”

  And that was the correct answer, Shane thought. But it didn’t have the oily, preachy tones he’d been expecting. The idea that there were people out there who still did things out of the kindness of their hearts was foreign to him. His father’s charm was friendly, but in the end, it served a purpose. It drew people in, made them trust him, and helped build his business.

  But really, was it any different? Obviously his father continued to help his clients even when the money wasn’t coming in. That was the only way he’d have gotten into so much trouble.

  Kendall squeezed his hand to bring him back to the conversation. “Shane isn’t quite used to the small-town mentality. I’m bringing him home to Bradley, and he’ll learn.”

  “Oh, are you two newly married?”

  Shane swallowed a laugh when Kendall’s face blanked. “We decided a change of scenery would be good for us. A new adventure,” he said. Not a lie. It certainly had been a new adventure for both of them.

  Kendall’s eyebrows lifted. “Ah, yeah. That’s got me a little nervous. Big change of pace for us as a couple.”

  “I bet.” Delinda looked down at their plates. “You two must have been starving.”

  Shane glanced down, surprised to see his plate was empty save for the green bits.

  Kendall smiled. “I really need your recipe for the brussels sprouts. My mom would kill for it. They’re great, aren’t they, honey?”

  Shane shot a sidelong glance at her and popped one in his mouth. The salt and garlic and…God, was that bacon? He nodded and stabbed three more. “Amazing.”

  “I’ll write it up for you tonight.”

  “That’d be great.”

  Kendall stood and went for the plates, but Delinda waved her off. “I’ll just bring them over to the house and put them in the dishwasher. I’ll show you to your room.”

  Shane took both bags and followed the women. They talked about the more colorful aspects of having strangers in their lives, and he realized just how much Kendall loved her place. Her eyes brightened, and her entire face lit up. He dropped the bags inside the door. The room was full of more oak furniture in the understated Shaker style he loved so much. Simple lines and slatted inserts that were such a signature of the style were echoed in the bed and side tables. He smoothed his hand over the butter-soft surface. More beeswax polish and a sweet berry scent filled the room.

  The walls were an unobtrusive cream with a matching beige carpet that let the furniture shine. Fat green bottles and deep red candles ringed with holly over crystal gave it a homey touch.

  “Oh, Delinda, it’s beautiful. I can’t believe you did all this in a basement room.”

  “We have a lot of help with the church.”

  Kendall faced Delinda. “Well, we appreciate it more than you know. A bed is all I want.”

  Delinda’s smile softened. “The front is locked up, and our house is just through the back door of the kitchen and across the yard if you need anything.”

  Shane came up behind Kendall and laid his hand on her shoulder. “No, just the bed and shower.”

  “I’ll leave you to it. Breakfast is at eight.”

  “Thanks,” Kendall said and held out both her hands, gripping Delinda’s. She gripped back, and Kendall released her. After a final good-bye she turned the lock and leaned against the door. “This is gorgeous.”

  He trailed his hand over the end of the sleigh bed. “This bed is old and done by a master carpenter.”

  “Good, because I plan on sleeping like a queen on it. After a shower.”

  “You go ahead.”

  “Yeah?” She smiled up at him. “I have no shame. I’ll take it first.” She grabbed her bag and dashed into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

  Part of him wanted to follow her and see how big the shower was. But knowing basement plumbing as he did, he preferred to wait out his disappointment. And the sharp need to touch her, to feel water on her skin, to lose himself inside her again was too acute.

  It was too much with the word marriage dangling over his head. Even if it was a lie. When he was around Kendall, nothing felt light or casual. He shook off those thoughts. He didn’t want to think about forever, not when everything was so in flux.

  STEAM FOLLOWED KENDALL out of the bathroom. She’d cranked the heat until her skin was pink, but her muscles were loose, and her back had stopped screaming for the moment. Endless hours in the truck were taking their toll. She flipped the towel off her hair and froze.

  Shane had stripped down to his jeans. Dirt streaked his neck and arms, but his back was a perfect smooth, tanned expanse of skin. Muscles bunched in his shoulders and rippled over his back as he dug into his bag. He turned to her, and the sardonic lift to his brow crumbled all the layers of resolve she’d built in the shower.

  She craved his touch. They were in a church basement, and she still wanted to curl hersel
f around him and feel him pulse inside her. The devil had to be sitting on her shoulder. She glanced at the bed with the slats for a headboard and the pristine white sheets. It should make her feel chaste.

  But all she could think about was gripping those slats until they bit into her palms as he slammed into her. Over her, filling her until she was screaming his name. Until nothing mattered but how they fit.

  “Christ, Kendall.”

  She winced. Exactly. “I’m sorry.” He crossed the room, standing before her with his chest a fraction of an inch away from the knot of her towel. She looked up at him. “You better take a shower. I’ll try to be asleep before you get out.”

  “You think that will make this easier?”

  She closed her eyes. “Maybe.” He didn’t say a word, but she felt him move away and missed his warmth and the endless buzz that surrounded her when he was in her space. The click of the door behind her freed her to move into the room. She quickly slathered on her lotion to combat the lack of moisture in the desert. She’d grabbed clothes for the next day but nothing to sleep in.

  “Great.”

  She turned to Shane’s bag and found an old, stretched-out undershirt in the stack of clothes jammed into the corner of the duffel. Trying not to overthink things, she quickly pulled it on and slid beneath the sheets. Her nipples beaded under the ultrasoft cotton. No, she was not going to get herself worked up.

  She could hear him in the shower. Imagined his economical movements. Shane wasn’t the type to linger. He was always in a hurry, always prepared to get the job done.

  Especially when the job included getting her off.

  And that was not helping.

  She turned her nose into the pillow. Vanilla and the soft scent of clothesline-fresh sheets mixed with the heady scent of cranberry that teased the air. Nothing about the basement was dank and stale—no, Delinda Cooper wouldn’t allow that in her house or her church.

  Church.

  As if she needed the reminder.

  She buried her face in the pillow and screamed. She’d napped with Shane before. With the desert-sunset romance setting, she’d managed to nod off for a few hours. Surely she could do the same in a church. The least romantic idea in the history of romance. She could relax and draw in the peace for a good night’s rest.