Speed Trap

by Harris Channing

  "No.” She shook her head. “I'm not getting behind the wheel of your baby."

  "Why not? If Dwayne hasn't left town yet, he's going to recognize your car. You'll be incognito this way."

  "If something were to happen..."

  He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “A car can be repaired or replaced. You, Libby Collins, are one of a kind."

  Her legs grew weak beneath her and she closed her eyes. “Don't you sweet-talk me, Keith.” She pressed her face against his outstretched hand.

  When he kissed her lips, her mind urged her to stop but her body wouldn't allow it. His mouth manipulated hers, his hands stroked her, and his body taunted hers. Her skin heated, her breasts ached for his lips, her cunt screamed for release. “Keith,” she groaned. “Please."

  "Please, what?” he whispered. Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed into his face. Delighted, his mouth set in a self-satisfied smirk.

  She felt as if a bucket of cold water had doused her fire. “You bastard,” she grumbled.

  "Take the keys.” He chuckled and pressed them in her hand. “I'm leaving now. I need to get rid of some of this—uh—frustration.” Throwing his gym bag over his shoulder, he pulled open the door. Before going, he faced her. “Get that job so you and I can resume fucking. Sweetheart, you started with me the other night and now I can't seem to get enough of you."

  She watched from the window as he strode from the house and got into his squad car. Fingering the keys he had given her, she grinned. “I'm one of a kind."

  Chapter 6

  Pulling into the parking lot of Harvey's Grocery, Libby's stomach lurched and her hands trembled. She didn't mind working but she loathed the idea of a job interview. Being judged or misjudged was frightening. What ifs took control of her mind. What if I don't make a good impression? What if Jimmy Harvey thinks I'm a loser, what if, what if, what if...

  "Stop it,” she whispered. “You're one of a kind, remember?” She pulled the key from the ignition. The car quieted immediately, not at all like her clunker that sputtered and coughed with a chronic case of engine run-on. Taking a deep breath, she jumped from the car.

  Sighing, she looked at the old rundown grocery. The building, far past its prime, sported large windows filled with newspaper ads of this week's sale items. The tan bricks dated it to the late 60's and the metal roof needed paint.

  Before she got into the store, a huge man filled the door and stepped out. Fiftyish, burly, curly salt-and-pepper hair and beard. He looked like Paul Bunyan's older brother.

  "Hey.” He nodded. “Sweet ride. That looks an awful lot like Keith Davidson's car."

  "It is. He lent it to me."

  "Well yee haw to you.” He narrowed his eyes and stared at her. “You must be the one all the old biddies at the hairdresser are talking about."

  "What?” she asked, a sickening fullness in her chest.

  He grinned. “Don't worry about it. Anybody coming, going, guilty, or innocent, gets gossiped about."

  Her purse slipped from her shoulder. Pushing it back up, she smiled. “I need a job."

  His eyes flew open and he laughed. “Well, all right. Come into my office. Your name Lizzie?"

  "Nope, but close."

  Entering the building, she smelled the produce section. Sweet, with a hint of overripeness. The lights glared on the white and green tiled floor. She passed the cashier, an older woman with sloping shoulders and white hair.

  "That's my mother,” Jimmy informed her. “She'll be going to the hairdresser later, Liza?"

  "Nope."

  At the back of the store, he ushered her into a broom closet office and asked her to sit. Her back straight, her eyes forward, she waited for him to begin his barrage of questions. With difficulty, he lowered his massive body behind a desk that was too close to the wall for his comfort. He smiled and presented her with an application. “Fill this out, Lisa?"

  "Okay, I'll fill it out and it's Libby."

  "Like the canned fruit?"

  She nodded. “Yep."

  * * * *

  By five-thirty, Libby was exhausted. Her first day of work tired her out, her feet hurt, her back ached, and a headache lurked behind her eyes. It wasn't so much that it was difficult but how would she ever overcome the boredom? The most stimulation she received was trying not to tell Madge Harvey more than she needed to know. Jimmy's warning of gossip had not fallen on deaf ears. Madge seemed kind and grandmotherly until Libby overheard her talking to Jimmy.

  "That Mandy Evans is a slut. You know she's gone and run off with that singer from Nashville?"

  "Good for her,” Jimmy grumbled. “What the hell do you care, Ma? You never liked her no way."

  Libby shook off the memory and with a yawn, set a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter. It was good to be home. She rubbed her forehead. Not your home.

  As she put the perishables away, she heard a car pull into the drive. Her heart thudded and she rushed to the door. Keith strolled up the sidewalk, his sunglasses resting on the top of his head, a briefcase in his hand.

  "Hey, girl. Heard you got a job. You enjoy working for Jimmy?"

  "I wanted to tell you,” she grumbled.

  "You should have given the station a call immediately.” He smiled, and her heart warmed. “Madge knows, the town knows.” She took a step back from the open door to allow him entrance. “Want to go out and have a celebratory dinner?"

  "I bought some food,” she informed him. “Jimmy spotted me a twenty till payday next week."

  "That reminds me. Annie wanted me to ask you if you were going to pick up your wallet."

  "Yeah, I should."

  He stepped inside and set the briefcase on the floor by the door. “Want some company?"

  "You'll go with me?

  He raised a brow. “I just about have to."

  "Why's that?” she asked, feigning indignation. “You think I can't?"

  "Oh no.” He snickered. “I know you can and with that lead foot, I'm sure you'd be there in a heartbeat."

  She grimaced at the reminder of her speeding. “It's not my fault White Springs is nothing but a speed trap."

  With a quick step toward her, he backed her into the wall. She set her hands on his chest.

  "Speed trap, huh?” he said in a low tone, his palms resting on the wall, his arms on either side of her head, and his face inches from hers. “Are you forgetting all I let pass ‘cause of your tears?"

  Lifting her eyes to his, she felt her legs weaken beneath her. “No, I've not forgotten a single thing you've done for me."

  "And I've not forgotten a single thing you've done for me.” He put his mouth to her ear. “As fast as you've turned my life upside down, I think you're the trap."

  Moisture from her sudden arousal filled her panties and she bit her lip, hoping the pain would slow her rising lust. “Keith,” she whined. “You're not playing fair."

  He pulled her earlobe between his teeth, nibbling it. “I'm not playing, sweetheart."

  His mouth traveled from her ear down to her neck, slowly and expertly turning her body against her. Shivers of delight showed themselves along her overheated body, blood coursed through her veins, warming her lower extremities and leaving her light headed.

  "You want me, Libby. I know you do, I feel it.” She didn't answer and he put his lips to hers. Gentle at first, he leisurely explored her mouth. His tongue was soft as he toyed with hers. She'd never been kissed with such tenderness and longing. He spoke to her of his need without saying a word. She responded by lowering her hands and allowing him to move closer. As if sensing her surrender, he slid his hands down the wall and wrapped his arms around her. “Come to bed with me. Let me feel your sweet body next to mine. Let me love you, Libby.” His eyes gleamed with passion.

  Let me love you, Libby rang in her ears and her mouth curled into a contented smile. “You think you might love me someday?” she asked, and before the words were out, she wished she had the power to take them back. His face bore
the shock of her statement, his stare grew hard, his mouth opened but no words came.

  He took a step back. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't push you so hard."

  She reached for his arm but he had all ready started down the hallway.

  "Don't go, Keith.” She followed him into his room. When she entered he didn't look at her, he was staring at the photo over the bed. His expression was one of sorrow, his mouth a straight line, his eyes registered only pain.

  "I was the one pushing. I'm sorry,” she said.

  He turned to look at her and she felt as though she may cry. So much hurt; so much sadness. She wanted to erase his despair.

  "It's all right,” he whispered. “I feel it too. I feel as though my heart is coming out of hibernation.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “I've been shut down for five years, Libby."

  "It's not fair what happened to Susan or you.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “Lots of things aren't fair, Keith."

  "No, sweetheart, they're not.” He wiped her tear away and a grin lifted the corner of his mouth. “Don't you cry because of me."

  "I can't help it. I understand losing someone you love.” She sniffled and he handed her a hankie. “Never seeing them again; never hearing their voice.” Wiping her eyes she added, “And Susan was young and beautiful."

  "She was.” He turned back to the portrait. “Our wedding day was the happiest day of my life."

  "You look happy and so much in love."

  "Susan and I went through school together, starting with kindergarten. Thought she was my soul mate."

  "I know you miss her, but at least you've known true love. With the exception of my grandmother, I've never felt valued."

  Putting his arm around her shoulder, he set his gaze upon her. “You've lost a lot in your young life, haven't you?"

  She nodded.

  "I'm sorry if I hurt you, running off like that."

  "I understand. If I could erase that moment, I would."

  His brows came together. “Don't be sorry. You spoke from your heart and that's a gift to me."

  He brushed a kiss across her forehead and smoothed her cheek with the back of his hand.

  "Oh, Keith, what happens next?"

  "I don't know, sweetheart. But it's the first time in a long time that I want to find out."

  Chapter 7

  Libby stood behind the register as Madge instructed her on the finer points of scanning bar codes.

  "We got these damned things ‘cause Jimmy said it's the future. I liked punching in prices but I got outvoted.” Libby smiled when the old woman shot her a look. Her wrinkled face bore her irritation. “After I teach you this, Jimmy wants you to start stocking in the back."

  Libby yawned.

  "You enjoying your stay in White Springs?"

  "So far."

  "You like Keith?"

  Libby wondered how long it would take Madge to bring Keith up. “Yes."

  "How did you meet him?” Madge tilted her head and smiled.

  She sure can turn on the grandmotherly charm. Now how the hell do I tell her without making myself look like a needy slut? “He's a friend of the family."

  Madge eyed her with suspicion. “That right?"

  "Sure."

  "You knew Susan, too?"

  "No. Didn't get the pleasure of meeting her."

  "She was a sweet girl,” Madge informed her, threading a fresh roll of receipt paper in the cash register. “Always loving and kind. Butter wouldn't melt, as they say."

  "Yes, it's a shame what happened to her."

  "I'll say. That's why Jimmy always keeps a loaded pistol in his desk. ‘Cause he don't want what happened to her to happen to us."

  Libby shifted her weight from one foot to the other and leaned against the counter. It took all her self-control not to delve deeper into the story. If she did, Madge would know she was a liar.

  "Since you're stayin’ in White Springs, you gonna live with Keith or you gonna get your own place?"

  As if on cue, Keith stepped into the store. His gaze scanned the produce area before coming to light on Libby. The appreciative stare, the warm smile, and the unspoken attraction sent a jolt of electricity through her body. At his approach, Libby had to push down the desire to giggle. He made her feel like a five-year-old girl on Christmas morning, but the present she wanted from him was not under a tree but navy blue uniform slacks.

  "Afternoon, ladies.” He nodded, first to Madge and then to Libby.

  "What can we do for you, Officer?” Madge asked.

  "Well, Ms. Harvey, I'd like to know if I can take Ms. Collins here out for a bit of lunch."

  Madge looked at her watch. “It's eleven.” She grimaced. “I go at eleven-thirty, Jimmy at twelve. She goes after him."

  Libby's dislike for Madge had begun the day before but her level soared when the woman came between her and Keith.

  "But as you said, it's eleven.” Keith winked. “How about it Madge? Give me some time with her before I have to sit in my hot squad car trying to pinch speeders and truants."

  Madge pursed her lips. “Well, I suppose that'll be all right.” She turned to Libby. “But from now on, you don't go till twelve-thirty."

  Keith grabbed Libby's hand and the pair walked out into the warm spring morning. The sunshine felt good on her face and a cool breeze tickled her cheeks.

  "You know.” She scowled. “You and I are going to be the talk of the beauty shop this afternoon."

  "I don't care, do you?"

  "No.” She shook her head. “I don't care. I've been the topic of gossip in my hometown for years. But I don't suppose you're used to it."

  "I am.” Lifting his hand, he pointed down the narrow street to Cousin Chester's Restaurant. “You want to get something to eat?"

  "Yes, but if anyone asks, I told Madge that I was a friend of your family's."

  * * * *

  Lunch flew by and when Keith dropped her back off at the grocery, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I want to kiss you,” he said, grinning.

  "I want to be kissed."

  "You hold that thought and when you get home tonight, you be ready."

  She smiled, not knowing what to say next.

  "I want to kiss you all over,” he whispered. “I'll start with those beautiful lips. I want to lick your tits and suck your pussy."

  Her body trembled at his words, and she yearned to feel him inside her almost more than she could bear. Lifting her gaze, his eyes bored a hole into her thoughts, leaving her speechless with their intensity.

  "You want me to?"

  She managed a nod.

  "Good, now get in there and don't you worry about what you tell Madge. Friend of the family is fine, but the truth is fine too. No matter what you and I do, we're under scrutiny. Live your life, Libby, and don't give a fuck what small-minded prudes say."

  Libby watched him go, admiring his broad shoulders and narrow waist. A smile tugged at her lips and warmth filled her heart. It would be so easy to love him, genuinely and truly love him.

  "Don't get any ideas about him,” Madge remarked from behind her. “He'll never remarry. Susan was the love of his life and as pretty and sweet as you seem to be, he's not going to set up house with you."

  Facing her, Libby shrugged her shoulders. “Must you always say whatever comes into your mind?” Madge's mouth dropped open and Libby walked to the back of the store, her giddiness unhindered by Madge's disapproval.

  * * * *

  Pulling into the drive, Libby was relieved to see Keith's squad car parked next to her heap. As she put the car in park and swung open the door, she heard Elvis and Prissy barking in the backyard. The scent of pine, the sight of deep purple clematis coiling up the mailbox, the soft pinks of the sunset, all made her certain this was indeed a small piece of heaven. The thought dispersed as a mangled tennis ball landed with a soggy thud at her feet and Elvis limped toward her, his dingy white face filled with the exuberance from play. She bent down and gave him a gentle pat before lifting
the ball and throwing it in the direction from which it came. Keith rounded the corner wearing a t-shirt and sweat pants.

  "Hey, woman of the house.” She melted at the greeting.

  "Hey, you play with the dogs?"

  "Got to, they missed us today.” Prissy followed close behind, a knotted sock dangling from her mouth. “You miss me today?” he asked.

  "What if I did?"

  He took a step closer and brushed a kiss across her cheek. The heat between their bodies drew her nearer, the promise of what was to come increasing the beat of her heart. Lifting her hands, she wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him.

  "Did you miss me?” she asked.

  His lids hooded over his smoldering eyes. “Yes. Why am I thinking about you all the time?"

  She leaned into him. “I don't know, but I'm glad you are."

  Lowering his face, he put his mouth atop hers. He tasted of mouthwash and smelled of soap, his chin free of stubble. A soft moan rumbled in his throat when she parted her lips to allow his tongue entrance. Pulling away, he stared at her and smiled. “You want some dinner?"

  "Yeah.” Libby nodded. “That would be nice.” She took him by the hand and led him inside.

  Standing in front of the sofa in the living room, he grabbed her and held her tight, burying his face in her hair. “You smell nice."

  "I smell like the produce aisle.” She giggled.

  He laughed. “Well, maybe a little. Go and take a hot bath or something and I'll get dinner ready."

  "Okay,” she answered, pulling away.

  The smile slid from his face. “We'll need to have a talk after that."

  Her heart sank like an anchor. This was not what she had hoped to hear. The seriousness of his face, and the tone of his voice did not bode well. She swallowed past the lump that threatened to close her throat. She squelched the urge to question him. If he's going to throw me out, I'd rather be clean and fed when he does it.

  "I won't be long.” She rose on her toes and placed a soft kiss on his lips, watching him for a reaction. His eyes appeared distant despite the grin that played upon his handsome mouth.