The Road to Bayou Bridge

by Liz Talley

  Damn, he wasn’t even freaking touching her, but she felt her temperature ratchet up a degree or two.

  Yeah, she needed Darby with a big girl’s hunger.

  So Renny took a dive over the cliff and reached for the hem of her own shirt. “Ironically, having hot, dirty sex with you feels sort of safe to me. Like I don’t have to worry about second dates or phone calls. It’s an end.”

  The shirt cleared her head and she tossed it behind her. His breath quickened, probably because she wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and suddenly she was grateful she still did yoga and ran three miles a day—in a good support bra.

  Darby reached for her, but she backed away, hooking her thumbs in the waistband of the ratty gym shorts and sliding them down her thighs, allowing them to fall in a pool on the floor. Finally, she stood, placing her hands lightly on her hips, really glad she’d done laundry last night and wore her new yellow lace hipsters.

  “Jumping Jehoshaphat,” Darby breathed, taking her in. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of—”

  “Doing?” She smiled, swaying her hips flirtatiously. She hadn’t felt this powerful, this free in such a long time. With Darby she didn’t feel the least self-conscious about her limp or the jagged scar that fell below her hip and extended to the top of her knee, mostly because the man was not looking at her scar.

  “Come here,” he breathed, motioning her with one hand.

  She shook her head. “Not yet.”

  “Please.”

  “Part of the pleasure generated in sexual intercourse is the building of anticipation. It’s a scientific fact, and as a scientist, I like testing subject matter.”

  “Fire,” he said, coming toward her.

  “Beg your pardon?”

  He reached for her, but she shimmied away. “That’s what you’re playing with, darling.”

  “No, I’m conducting a field test,” she said, loving every second of making Darby want her again. It was a powerful elixir to drive a man to the edge of reason. She wanted that feeling to last. Wanted him to drown in wanting her. She had no clue why, but she needed it. Needed to feel in control of her decision, and slightly in control of him.

  “So you want an experiment, huh? So this is what happens when you get a degree in birds?” He moved toward her and this time she didn’t move away.

  “A degree in birds?” She quirked an eyebrow.

  “My, oh my, how Renny Latioles has nerded up.” With a glint in his eye, he traced a finger over her collarbone.

  Two could play at this game, so she ran a hand across his stomach, delighting at the way his muscles contracted. “Let’s see. Scientifically, what do you feel when I do this?”

  His eyes flashed molten blue and her temperature went up another degree. “I think you know.”

  She smiled and dropped her hand lower. “Attraction, arousal, mating.”

  He caught her hand and moved it up to his chest. She felt his heart galloping beneath her fingers. “We’re not animals. There’s emotion.”

  “True. Emotion can play a major role. For example, I’m emotionally exhausted, steeped in sentimentalism, and as always, very attracted to you. It’s a combination allowing me to unhook my bra rather than slam the door in your face. In my not-so-scientific opinion, emotion and alcohol are equally responsible for insuring the survival of the species.”

  He slid a hand beneath her rib cage, warm flesh against warm flesh as his hand traveled up to cup her breast. She literally hissed. “You’re not wearing a bra, Dr. Latioles, and I think I could dig this kind of scientific study.”

  Renny closed her eyes as his thumb found her nipple. “Okay, let’s get the experiment underway.”

  His lips brushed hers as he gathered her against him. “Where’s your bedroom?”

  She lifted her head and smiled. “You mean my lab? Uh, behind you to the left.”

  “I love it when you talk geeky.”

  Renny disengaged from Darby’s grasp and wiggled out of her lace undies before turning toward the direction she indicated.

  “Holy test tube,” Darby breathed, “I don’t think I’ve ever loved science as much as I do right now.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SHADOWS PLAYED HIDE-AND-SEEK on the floor near the closed door as Renny snuggled into Darby’s chest and exhaled.

  He twirled a piece of her hair around his finger and wondered how in the hell he’d gotten himself back into Renny’s bed. Oh, the answer was fairly obvious. Desire still coiled between them like a serpent—like a dangerous, bewitching serpent.

  He shouldn’t have allowed his body to override his intent.

  But then again he couldn’t have stopped it. Seemed as if explosive sex had to happen between them before they could move forward. And he’d enjoyed every minute of every kiss, every stroke of her hand, every taste of her body. What had just taken place in her comfortable brass bed had been epically satisfying—and utterly stupid.

  He felt like he’d screwed more than the sweet woman in his arms. On some level, he’d screwed his future. Renny had been right. Once they’d committed to such an intimate act, it was out there between them. Again.

  Renny lifted her head and squinted at him. “Guess we allowed our bodies to overtake good reason. Probably wasn’t a good idea.”

  He dropped the strand of honeyed hair. “Maybe not, but it was the most pleasurable one I’ve had in a while.”

  “I couldn’t seem to help myself. It was like being marooned in the desert and happening upon a pool of water.”

  “Like the last cookie.”

  She gave a wry smile. “I thought it was better than a cookie.”

  “No one ever said I was good with analogies. Um, like a bag full of money sitting before a bank robber?”

  She shook her head. “You do suck at euphemisms.”

  “Not a euphemism. I couldn’t downplay what just happened between us. It blew my mind. And that ain’t no lie, lady.”

  Her brown eyes studied him in the faint light of the early evening and he loved the delicious feeling of her naked, warm body next to his. He may have effed up on a huge level but he could take the memory of her wrapped round him mewling his name when the Seattle nights were cold and lonely.

  Seattle.

  Shelby.

  Shame slid hard and cold into the pit of his stomach. How had he forgotten her so easily? If she were the woman for him, wouldn’t he have turned and walked away from Renny’s little experiment? Wouldn’t he have not shown up on his ex’s front doorstep with a flimsy reason for seeing her again?

  He knew the answer, but was stubborn enough to ignore it.

  No use feeling guilty because he and Shelby weren’t exclusive—they’d been batting around taking a step toward something more than dating. That was it. No promises. No framework for anything other than a possibility. But he knew Shelby expected more. Hell, he expected more. That was the whole reason he was moving to Seattle. Maybe not the whole, but a good chuck of it.

  Yet, what had happened between him and Renny was a wake-up call. Maybe this was nature’s way of telling him Shelby wasn’t the woman for him. Or maybe nature didn’t give a flip. Maybe it was his slimy conscience trying to make what he’d done okay.

  Should he have told Renny he’d been seeing someone?

  No. He and Renny were just sex and memories. Not a future. What had just occurred was extraordinary, marked by need, reminiscence and fondness for one another.

  “Yeah,” she said, drawing circles on his chest. “It was good, but it has to be what it is, right? We both got wrapped up in the past and it sucked us back in time. So, I don’t see us—”

  “Having a future?” How did she always know what he was thinking?

  She swallowed and her fingers stilled. “How could we? We’re too different now, both of us on different paths. This is like getting stuck in the elevator. Like time slows down and you’re hyperaware of who you are at that moment, but when the doors open the world sucks yo
u back into who you were before. You know?” Her fingers resumed the tracing of circles on his chest.

  Her touch caused funny triggers of desire to shoot to his pelvis and he felt interest stir down below. He usually needed a good hour or two refractory before he could even think about round two, but not with this woman. He caught her hand. “I know, but we’re still in the elevator. My hyperawareness is hyperaware...very hyperaware.”

  Renny smiled and her gaze slid down to where the sheet rested at his waist. “So I see. Guess I feel a little awkward since I don’t usually engage in consenting adult sex much.”

  “Oh, so you’re into the nonconsenting bondage stuff, huh?” He couldn’t help but tease her because he didn’t like where they were going. He, too, felt it had been an unwise decision, but he didn’t want to overanalyze. It was what it was. He wanted to leave it at that.

  She tweaked his nipple.

  “Ow!”

  “You know what I mean. I don’t do this often. I’m not casual about sex.”

  He inched from beneath her head and sat up. Renny fell on her back onto the pink cotton sheet, clutching the top sheet to her chest. He rolled over and looked down at her. “Ren, let’s not end this badly. This wasn’t casual and I didn’t do it lightly. I don’t know why it happened. It just did. Okay?”

  The crinkle in her forehead didn’t disappear, but she nodded. “Okay.”

  He didn’t know what to do next. He wanted to unwrap her out of the sheet and explore the beautiful curves that filled his hands so nicely. He wanted to press the stop button on the elevator again so he could have a few more hours to memorize her scent, her taste, the sound of her panting in his ear as she wrapped her legs around him and surged against him, taking him over the sweetest ledge a man could fall from.

  But maybe it was time to let the doors open.

  Renny lifted herself on her elbows, allowing the sheet to slide down, revealing breasts that were rounded and perfect.

  “You opening the doors?” he asked.

  She shook her head, and her beautiful eyes mirrored the passion that had stirred within him seconds ago. “All good scientists repeat the experiment to test the results against the first outcome. We probably should follow the scientific method, you know, to make sure our first experiment in sexual desire was valid. For example, is your response the same if I do this?” Her hand glanced his stomach and slipped beneath the covers.

  He groaned and closed his eyes. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  Renny crept up on all fours and placed her lips over his. He passively allowed her to work her own magic, to deepen the kiss. She broke the kiss and looked up. “Is that what you think? ’Cause if so, I doubt you understand what’s about to happen. It’s not about expiring. It’s about inspiring. Let me show you.”

  Her fingers started some magical sort of symphony on him and he collapsed back onto the feathered pillows crammed into the crease between the mattress and brass rails. “I kinda got the idea you wanted this to be a one-time thing.”

  “I did.” She gave a throaty laugh as she peppered kisses down his chest. “But, Darby, let’s make our closure damn good.”

  He shoved his hands in her hair, framing her face and tilting it up so he could see her expression. In her eyes he saw a determined, turned-on woman, and what man could stop that?

  Not any man he knew.

  He certainly would leave Louisiana, but he knew he’d never regret making love to the woman drawing circles around his belly button. No, Renny had always been the sweetest of gifts, surprising, rewarding and rich like dessert. She was right—they’d deserved a better ending than what they’d got years ago.

  Her kisses peppered his belly and her hands did wild, wicked things—things that made it impossible to turn back. She paused and glanced up at him. “I’ve hurt too much over what didn’t happen between us to miss a chance to say goodbye to what we once were.”

  He slid his hands down to her armpits and dragged her up his body. His erection settled right where it should.

  “Oh,” she breathed.

  He cupped her head and brought her lips to his as she allowed her knees to fall to either side of his thighs. She was open to him and, if his powers of detection were working, very ready for him. “Condom?”

  She didn’t stop kissing him. Finally, she lifted her head. “I dropped one on the floor a little bit ago. Let me get it.”

  She leaned over and he groaned at the slick heat nearly enveloping him. “Fire, madam.”

  Her head went over the side of the bed for a moment before she popped back up. “I love playing with fire. Why do you think I chose science? Bunsen burners, remember?”

  She held the wrapped condom aloft before ripping it open with her teeth. Dropping down, she kissed him and placed the condom in his hand. The warm sweetness of her mouth complimented the heat of her body, and Darby couldn’t wait much longer. He lifted himself up, spun her over, and made short work of being a responsible partner. “I remember, Renny. Oh, how I remember.”

  And then he let his inhibitions, thoughts and recriminations fade away as he lost himself in the age-old rhythm that would take them to a place of delight.

  The last thought as he slid inside Renny was how good the past felt sometimes.

  * * *

  MAKING LOVE TO DARBY three times in one night left a girl tired. It also left a girl with plenty of shame, doubt and a sort of soft glow in her cheeks that people commented upon. Which is why she knew it was true when Picou told her she looked well that morning.

  Of course, Picou had snuck up on her as she stood in the abandoned rice field checking on the whooping crane. She’d seen a group of marsh birds take flight and knew someone else was there. Sure enough, she’d turned to find Picou pulling up in the ATV vehicle.

  “Renny!” Picou called across the field, making L9-10 skulk back into some reeds along the edge of the woods. “What are you doing here so early on a Sunday morning?”

  Renny pressed the air with her hands, hoping Picou got the message to be quiet, then slogged toward the older woman. As soon as she was close enough she yell-whispered, “How did you know it was me?”

  Picou closed the lid on the plastic bin on the seat next to her and climbed from the mule. “Who else would it be? And who goes around dressed like that?”

  Renny wore the costume she’d been wearing days before. Had it only been Friday? So much had happened within that span of time. Seemed longer.

  She watched as the older woman, clad in jeans and a pair of dark rubber boots, started toward her. Renny shouldn’t have come that morning. But work had seemed attractive—even on her day off—because work was the one normal thing in her life at that moment. All else had tipped over and scattered her emotions everywhere. Work she could handle.

  The woman stopping in front of her, shading her eyes against the early morning sun, she could not.

  “Morning, Picou,” Renny said. She might have said, Morning, traitor. Same thing. Now she knew the woman she’d once trusted had been Judas in the dissolution of Renny and Darby. Jeez. It sounded like a play title. The Dissolution of Teenage Love.

  “What are you doing out here?” Picou blinked nervously, like a kid caught filching the cake pulled out of the oven, which was odd.

  “You already asked that and I think it’s obvious—I’m doing my job.”

  Picou’s gaze shuffled away and she scanned the area behind them. “So where’s this bird you’re so concerned with?”

  Renny jerked her head toward the reeds where the bird hid and motioned Picou back toward the higher ground where the ATV sat. Birds were smart, and Renny didn’t want to remove any part of her costume until she was well away from the crane.

  The morning sun stabbed through the scrubby shrubbery and tall hardwoods marking the wooded area of Beau Soleil property. Even that brightness couldn’t penetrate the mystery of the lowland. Once she was out of sight of the crane, she removed her face shield. “The crane is not accustomed to humans, Mrs.
Dufrene, so if you see her, I’d appreciate your moving away and not getting too close. We want these birds wholly dependent on their habitat for survival.”

  “But I’m her habitat. This is our land.” Picou’s gaze was earnest. She wasn’t being a smart-ass.

  “True, but still it would be best if the bird does not have much human contact. We already worry about them being too familiar with our scent and the way we move.”

  “Oh,” Picou said, her eyes moving along the tree line where the crane had disappeared. “I’ll be sure to look out for her and stay away.”

  “Good.”

  “You look awfully pretty this morning.”

  Did she? Renny pushed her hair back and averted her eyes.

  “Did you see Darby last night?”

  She jerked her gaze back to Picou as alarm uncoiled. “Why would you ask me?”

  “Well, he went out last night and didn’t show up till nearly dawn. I assumed he was with you.”

  “Why?”

  Picou blinked. “Because you are you.”

  “What does that mean?” Renny asked.

  The older woman’s brow wrinkled and for a moment she didn’t answer. “Well, things were left unfinished between you.”

  You think? Irritation snuck up on her again. In front of her was one of the people responsible for keeping her and Darby apart years ago. “Well, you would know.”

  This time Picou’s brows rose. “I guess that little cat is out of the bag?”

  “Yeah, and it’s pissed.” Renny shaded her eyes and tried to allow the anger between her shoulder blades to slide away. Water under the bridge, Ren. But she couldn’t shake the disappointment. Picou had always seemed like the kind of woman who wouldn’t stop love. More like the kind of person who would pitch a tent, pull up a chair and train binoculars on love so she could watch it unfold.

  “As well it should be. But—”

  “There are no buts. You knew how Darby and I felt better than anyone else. I shared those hopes and desires with you, and you let my mom and your husband stomp all over them until they were nothing but rubble and dust. You may not have robbed the bank, but you drove the getaway car. Same difference. And I expected more from you.”