To Kiss A Frog

by Elle James

  While the water pattered against the plastic shower curtain, Elaine stared into the mirror at the reflection of a stranger. With her hair mussed, eyes glowing, and cheeks flushed pink, she looked more alive than she'd ever imagined. The sight of beard burn across her breasts only increased her agitation. An image of Craig sucking one rosy tip at a time into his mouth sizzled in her mind. Her nipples hardened into turgid peaks and fire seared into her belly.

  Elaine opened the medicine-cabinet mirror and grabbed for toothpaste. With clean teeth and fresh breath, she could conquer the world.

  With speed born of desperation, Elaine accomplished her morning ablutions and a brief shower in less than ten minutes. A miracle for any woman. The thought of spending another moment in the bathroom they'd shared drove her out quickly.

  Dressed and ready for anything, she gathered the damp clothing and stuffed it into the washing machine hidden behind louvered doors in the kitchen.

  Now what?

  She scanned the miniature lab scattered across the tables erected in the living room. One would think that after two trips into the swamps she'd have a larger selection of specimens to work with. One dead fish and a frog. Not much. But a start, nonetheless.

  Elaine rolled up her sleeves and went to work

  Two minutes later, a scratching sound at her front door alerted her to a visitor.

  Setting aside a slide, she walked across the living room and opened the door to Dawg.

  “Good morning,” she called out, forcing cheerfulness she didn't feel.

  She leaned down and ruffled the dog's ears. “Why take my sexual frustrations out on a dog? Huh, boy?” With a glance around she noted his frog wasn't with him. “Where's your friend?”

  Woof!

  The mottled green bullfrog of the day before hopped into view from around the door.

  “There you are. I thought maybe you'd decided to ditch the dog.”

  Dawg's tail thumped the floor, and he slurped the frog with a long juicy tongue.

  Elaine laughed out loud when the frog fell over, completely slimed in dog saliva.

  Woof?

  “You are a special case, aren't you? If you two don't mind, I have work to do.”

  Considering that the world outside the cottage doors loomed as a dangerous jungle to a bullfrog, Craig contented himself watching Elaine.

  Completely absorbed in dissecting her specimens, she studied samples of tissue beneath her microscope and scribbled notes in a journal all afternoon. She barely noticed when Dawg flopped down on the floor against her feet. But when he laid his head against her legs and looked up at her with an open-mouthed yawn, she finally paused for a moment.

  “Am I boring you?” She reached down and patted the dog's head. Her stomach rumbled and she glanced at the clock over the mantle.

  “Lordy, already four o'clock and I haven't even had breakfast.” She glanced back at Dawg. “I don't suppose you're hungry too, are you? How about a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

  Ummmm... a peanut butter and jelly sandwich sounded like heaven to Craig.

  Dawg rolled his eyes up, and his tail thumped his agreement.

  Elaine walked the few steps across the room to the little kitchen area.

  The dog lurched to his feet and followed Elaine to the kitchen. Craig hopped over to stand close by.

  “I’m sorry, but I'm fresh out of flies for Todd.”

  Good. Craig would rather starve than eat - another fly.

  He'd have to fill up on human food at night.

  Armed with a sandwich and a glass of ice water, Elaine sat at the Formica table. "I'm not liking what I'm seeing,

  Dawg."

  Dawg nudged her leg and pounded the floor with his tail.

  Elaine tore a piece of crust off the side of her sandwich and absently handed it over to the dog. “The toxin levels are dangerously high in all the samples. Frankly, I'm surprised the leopard frog was alive when we found him. His liver was only half the size it should have been. Remind me to ask Craig about factories in the area, will you?”

  The dog's mouth dropped open in what resembled a grin and his tail swished across the floor, knocking into Craig.

  Craig steadied himself and looked back up at Elaine.

  She had a distant expression on her face. Her fingers plucked at the crust on her sandwich, but she didn't eat “Do you think Craig will avoid me now?”

  Taken off guard by her change in subject, Craig felt as if he were eavesdropping on her private reverie.

  “I mean, after all, I'm no prize catch when it comes to looks.” She slipped her glasses off her nose and tucked a loose curl behind her ear.

  Ummm... Craig recalled nibbling on that ear. And what did she mean, not a prize catch? Seemed the good professor didn't even know what the had hiding beneath her lab coat. His gaze followed her hand down the side of her long, creamy white neck.

  “I wonder why he's so afraid of commitment?” Elaine slipped the glasses back on her face. “Not that I'm interested in a lasting relationship with the man. Besides,” she stared down at Dawg and Craig, “what do we have in common?”

  Craig opened his mouth to answer, but snapped it shut before he croaked and embarrassed himself. What did they have in common? Was she kidding? They fit perfectly him inside her, her snuggled up against him in bed. Heck, the woman had enough passion to light the skies on fire. He'd never been with someone so instinctively natural and... and... sexy. And she had no idea.

  Elaine shook her head. “Okay, okay, so we have one night of incredibly hot sex in common.” Yeah, you know it. Craig's chest swelled with the knowledge that he'd given her as much pleasure as she'd given him. When he looked down, he realized not only had his chest swelled, but his neck swelled too. He opened his mouth and belched out a loud croak. “You know, Todd, I think you're right.” She crossed her arms over her chest Huh? All he'd done was croak. How right could he be? “Being with Craig makes about as much sense as a dog keeping a pet frog. Last night was a mistake.” She paced across the room, tapping a fingernail to her bottom lip. “Maybe I'm just on the rebound from Brian.” Rebound? If last night was rebound material, he deserved to be a frog forever. No way all that passion was in response to being dumped by another man. No way.

  Elaine spun and pinned Dawg with a direct gaze, then transferred her attention to the frog beside him. “Perhaps if I invite Brian to Bayou Miste next weekend, I'll see how much more suitable he is for me and I'll get young Mr. Thibodeaux out of my system.”

  Next weekend? Her ex-boyfriend was coming next weekend? Craig tapped his webbed foot and steamed through his leathery skin. All this time he'd worried he was going to break Elaine's heart, she'd been in love with another man. A man who'd dumped her and now wanted her back. How could she be so willing to take the creep back? She'd cried the day before, for Pete's sake.

  “In the meantime, I have work to do. I don't have time to worry about my love life. If I'm going to make a difference in the swamp, I'd better get cracking.” She knelt beside the dog and Craig. While she ruffled Dawg's neck, she gazed down at Craig and chucked a finger beneath his green chin. “Can't have all your cousins getting sick out there and dying because some idiot is dumping pollution into the water.”

  She plowed back into her work with a vengeance, barely looking up for more than a minute until the sun disappeared behind the treetops on its descent to the horizon.

  Throughout the rest of the afternoon and early evening, Craig watched for a chance to escape the tiny cottage, but Elaine got so wrapped up in her work, she even forgot to put out Dawg. And the lazy canine stretched out on the braided rug in front of the couch, completely content to sleep the day away.

  As the sun crept out of the sky, Craig grew increasingly nervous. If he didn't get out of the house quickly, he'd transform in front of Elaine. He couldn't afford to do that. If she was the one, she couldn't know about his condition.

  Was she still a valid candidate to solve his problem? If her ex-boyfriend showed
up, would she go willingly into his arms? A heavy weight settled on Craig's chest, and he fought to shake it.

  He glanced at Elaine. What idiot would think she was rigid? The woman was completely uninhibited in bed. Knowing what he knew about her zeal for lovemaking only made him hot.

  She stood in front of her microscope, the floral dress brushing her calves, her delicate ankles peeking from beneath the hem. For the past four hours, she'd sliced, prepped and studied the specimens, making notes in a journal beside her.

  Elaine displayed passion not only in bed, but also in her work. She cared about finding the source of the pollutants and determining the damage such an infraction could have on the ecosystem of the swamp.

  Craig stared at Elaine, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, her attention focused on the slide under the microscope. She had what he lacked.

  Passion.

  Passion to fight for a cause she believed in. Passion enough to challenge her crippling fears to discover the truth. Passion to root for the underdog - or underfrog, in this case.

  And what did Craig have? A place in his family's law firm, defending clients with more money than brains, vindictive people who didn't care about anything or anyone but themselves.

  People like himself.

  The clock on the fireplace mantel rang eight limes, piercing Craig's depressing musings. His body tensed, and he shot a glance to the clock and then to the window.

  The sun hid behind the trees, sliding its way through the forest to the hidden horizon.

  Damn! Only a few minutes stood between him and

  Elaine discovering the truth. He had to get out of the cottage and quick.

  He bounced up and down on Dawg's floppy ear.

  The dog twitched but didn't budge.

  With a mighty leap, Craig hopped straight up in the air and came down on Dawg's forehead. Time to wake up, boy.

  Dawg opened an eye, spotted Craig and thumped his tail against the floor.

  Craig butted his head against the dog, trying to nudge him to his feet. Come on boy, get up.

  The dog lumbered to all four feet, stretched and yawned his mouth so wide he whined.

  “Hey Dawg.” Elaine scribbled something in the journal, then looked up. “Nice to see you're still with the living. You slept so long, I thought maybe you were dead.”

  With another hop, Craig bumped into Dawg, hoping to steer him in the direction of the door.

  But Dawg had other ideas. He trotted over to Elaine, sat down and stared up at her with his soulful brown eyes.

  She reached down to pat the dog's head. “Did you work up an appetite, sleeping for so long?”

  Woof!

  “I'll take that as a yes. Come on, I've got some leftover lunch meat.” She led the way into the kitchen.

  The dog followed her without a backward glance at Craig.

  Traitor.

  What was he going to do? His little heart pattered hard against his chest. His damp clothes were in the washer in the kitchen, with Elaine.

  Craig's ears rang and his skin tingled. Uh oh. He shook so hard he swayed, the tremors moving from the tip of his nose to all four feet. Damn, the change was happening. With three ant jumps, he landed just inside the bedroom door before the transformation gripped him.

  His bones and skin stretched, the chemicals in his body burning like billions of miniature electrical shocks.

  Slowly his body unfolded, reshaping until he stood tall and straight.

  The room tilted. Craig braced his feet and turned to stare across the room at the mirror on the wall. He was back. Thank God.

  Knocking sounded at the front door, jerking him out of his muzzy-headed state. Who the hell was visiting Elaine after dark? He ran for the bathroom and snatched a towel to wrap around his waist.

  “Do you think it might be Craig coming back for his clothes?” Elaine hurried past the open bedroom door, Dawg close at her heels.

  Did her voice sound eager or nervous? He wondered if she regretted their romp in the sack.

  Craig hid behind the bedroom door and waited to see who it was. He'd watch for a chance to use this distraction to make good his escape.

  Elaine opened the front door. Mo filled the entry, his broad shoulders seeming to stretch from one side of the doorframe to the other. He wore his factory work clothes, but his shirt hung loose from the waistband. With a shy smile, he stuck out his hand. “Hi, I'm Maurice Saulnier. You don't know me, but I'm a friend of Craig Thibodeaux. Do you know where dat boy be?”

  What the heck was Mo doing here? Craig needed to leave, but his curiosity got the better of him, and he leaned closer, straining to hear and see.

  With her back to Craig, Elaine shrugged. “Actually, I don't. But I expect we'll go out on the swamp again tonight. Do you want me to give him a message?”

  “Oui, tell him to come see his old friend Mo.”

  “Is it an emergency?” Elaine's voice was polite and inquisitive

  “I guess in some ways dat what it be.”

  “Anything I can help with?” She leaned toward Mo and placed a hand on his arm.

  “Just tell him I arrange him a date with DeeDee DuBois for tonight. She'll be wailing at Catfish Haven at nine.”

  Elaine's back stiffened. “Oh.”

  Craig cringed. Thanks, Mo. You have the insight of a moose.

  “I have de night shift at de factory, otherwise I'd tell him myself.”

  “I understand.” Her voice sounded strained.

  If Craig had entertained ideas of showing up naked in Elaine's room and picking up where they left off the night before, he squashed those ideas now. Some serious damage control had to be done in the wake of Hurricane Mo.

  The big Cajun clod backed away from the doorway. Elaine followed him out on the porch, with Dawg close at her heels.

  While Mo and Elaine stood outside the front door, Craig found his shoes in a corner and slipped them on. He snuck around the bedroom door and dashed for the back kitchen entry. No time to grab his clothes, the towel would have to do.

  With all the speed of a hurdle jumper in Olympic competition, Craig flew through the backyards of the neighboring houses, hell-bent for the bait shop.

  As he passed the house next door, he spied Mozelle Reneau sweeping off her back porch. She stopped and stared out at him, her mouth dropping open.

  Heat burned up his neck to his cheeks. Heck, what did you say to an old woman when you streaked by her in nothing but a towel? “Hi, Ms. Reneau!”

  “Craig, what do you think you're doing, running around in nothing more than your birthday suit?”

  “Can't talk now,” he yelled, leaping over her azaleas into the next backyard.

  He didn't slow down or look back, but he heard Mozelle's exclamation, “Good Lord! What's the world a-comin' to?”

  When he finally stood in the safety of the little room off the back of the bait shop, Craig hauled in deep breaths. The situation had reached the point of ridiculous.

  He had to find someone to love him, and soon, or he'd go stark-raving mad. Perhaps a date with DeeDee DuBois would be the trick. Surely, she would be desperate enough to fall in love with him on sight.

  Climbing into a clean pair of jeans, Craig paused. A vision of Elaine asleep that morning, her hair spread against the pillow, her mouth full and tender from a night's kissing, plagued his mind.

  Get over it. She's not your type.

  Elaine Smith was out of the question. The idea of breaking her heart made his own chest ache.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ************************************************************************************************

  So Craig had a date with DeeDee DuBois. Elaine shouldn't have been so surprised. He'd told her he wasn't the commitment type. And she more or less said she didn't care. Then why did she feel so rotten?

  Elaine sat at the Formica table, her hands curled around a cup of tea. Normally, she'd be heading over to the bait shop at this time, ready to go out on the swamp with Craig
.

  Given the circumstances, why bother? He had a date with DeeDee. That would take a couple hours at the least. If they didn't decide to have dessert at her place.

  The knot of pain tightened in Elaine's belly. She pushed aside the tea and dropped her forehead to the table. Hopeless, that's what she was. Her track record with men stunk. She'd dated Brian for comfort level. With Craig, nothing about comfort entered her mind. He made her burn all over.

  “Why am I such a fool?” She banged her forehead on the smooth, speckled tabletop.

  A knock at the screen door made Elaine turn her head sideways against the table.

  The screen opened and Craig stepped through, a perplexed look on his face. “Are you okay?”

  Elaine jerked up her head, her cheeks flaming. “Who, me? Of course I'm okay. Why shouldn't I be?” Just because you have a date with DeeDee shouldn't make me want to crawl under a rock.

  “I got worried when you didn't show up at the shop. f Aren't we going out on the swamp tonight?”

  The clock on the mantel chose that moment to bong: nine times.

  “Did your friend Maurice find you?” she asked.

  “No.”

  "He dropped by here earlier with a message for you.

  He said you had a date with DeeDee DuBois at Catfish Haven. Shouldn't you be there by now?"

  His lips curved upward and his oh-so-blue eyes twinkled. “I had the same message from DeeDee. I called and told her I had a prior engagement.”

  Sudden joy surged through Elaine's upper body. She quickly squelched it. Craig played the field. He was a ladies' man and she was only one of his ladies. The fact that he'd cancelled his date with DeeDee didn't mean anything.

  Did it?

  “If we're going, you better change. The mosquitoes would have a heyday on your body in that outfit” His gaze roamed over her shoulders and down to her legs.

  Warmed by his perusal, Elaine averted her eyes. “I'll only be a minute.” She leaped from her chair and dashed to the bedroom. After closing the door behind her, she collapsed against the wooden panel, her heart pounding in her chest. He's here! He's here!

  Three feet in front of her stood the white iron bed they'd shared the night before, the sheets still tangled from their lovemaking. She hadn't been able to face making it after he disappeared that morning.