Maggie blushes and shrugs. “She’s still there. I guess I get caught up in the fun of the bust, that’s all. Speaking of busts, tell me how the interviews with Keith are going. I need boring and nice right now, honestly.”
I lean back in my office chair, humming. “He is nice, actually. Still sometimes a bit of a commanding asshole, but . . . well, it’s the good kind of commanding asshole. I’m feeling good about the interviews.”
“Feeling good, huh?” Maggie asks, lifting an eyebrow. “Sounds like you’re feeling good about him. You starting to like him?”
“No!” I protest, maybe a bit too strongly. There’s no way I’m going to let anyone, even sweet little Maggie, think that I’m getting this story Francesca-style. I can’t even let them think that I’m interested in Keith. “I just . . . it’s nice to be pleasantly surprised, that’s all. He’s hot but boring.”
“I see. Well, I think—” Maggie starts, but before she can finish, I hear a yell from down the hall.
“ELISE!”
“Oh, great, what’s he want?” I mutter, looking at Maggie. “Any ideas?”
“Maybe Donnie wants to say great job and give you a raise?” Maggie asks, then grins. “It’d be a first, but hey, miracles do happen.”
“We’ll see,” I answer as I get up. “See you later.”
I head down the hall to Donnie’s office, where I find him behind his desk, popping jellybeans into his mouth. “What can I do for you, Donnie?”
“Have a seat,” he says, pointing as if I don’t know where the chair is. “I wanted to talk about your third article.”
“What?” I ask, surprised. “Donnie, I barely got the outline done and sent in to you.”
It’s company policy that all articles other than editorials need to be outlined and sent in to Donnie after the website got burned to the tune of a half-million dollars for not verifying a claim. It could have been worse.
“I know, I checked it over,” Donnie says, popping another jellybean, this one black licorice by the looks of it. “And while I normally let you just run with your gut, you always back up your shit. I’m worried this time.”
A compliment and a concern in one sentence. That’s a first. “What’re you worried about? There’s nothing that’ll get us a lawsuit in there.”
“That’s exactly it!” Donnie exclaims. “Elise, we won’t get sued, but we won’t get read either! This article . . . it’s boring as fuck. My God, a story about the Pope’s diet would have more sizzle than this! This is just . . . listen, if I wanted to read this type of fawning bullshit, I’d buy People!”
“What can I say, Donnie?” I ask, ignoring his dig. “This series is different. It’s good, I think. More in-depth and driving readers with a real insight into Keith. His music, his life, let them really get to know the man. I’ve included some interview snippets from some calls I made to his manager and some of the club owners from Boise and Nashville that he used to play in, to give the readers a sense of how much he’s grown.”
“Growth . . . now you sound like Reader’s Digest,” Donnie gripes. “Come on, Elise! We run on dirt, smut, and knowing who’s fucking who! Not how Keith Perkins learned to play guitar at the age of six and what might be next for him with this summer’s tour!”
I’m trying to keep my cool. I’m walking into deep waters now with Donnie, and while I’m not technically lying yet . . . I’m not being honest and frank either. “I’ve gone through everything in his background, online searches, criminal record, everything available. And when I talk to Keith, he seems to be real. He was pissed about the record company springing the all-access interviews on him initially, but he’s been forthcoming. I’m telling you, Donnie, there’s just nothing salacious. The man’s just an All-American sort of dude.”
I hope it’s enough, that he believes me and doesn’t pry any further. Donnie may have questionable morals when it comes to Francesca, but he’s a crack reporter and can smell a story long before anyone else does.
“Dammit, Elise. There’s something!” he yells, slamming his hand down on his desk and sending jellybeans rolling everywhere. “Nobody is this fucking whitebread. Nobody can become as famous as he is without having at least a fucking parking ticket in his background. There has to be something. I don’t want this to be a big waste of fucking time. Find me something, or I’ll get someone who can.”
“What?” I gasp, my face paling. “Donnie, this is my story—”
“I know it is! So do your damn job!” he yells, his face getting redder as his voice carries. I know the people out in the office can hear him reaming me out. “Even Pollyanna Maggie out there has more dirt in her life than you’ve written about Keith. Now, I’ll let you write part three the way you want, but end it with a teaser about some legit dirt for part four.” His voice drops dangerously. “And you’d better get it, one way or another. Am I clear?”
“Clear. I’ll find something.” I say as I nod, but my gut churns.
“Then get the fuck out of here and finish up part three. What are you going to do for the next interview?”
“I convinced him to get out of his house. I’m hoping that the change of scenery will get him to open up more. If I thought there was anything worth reporting on in the house, I’d have stayed, but he’s shown me every room . . . the only person who’d find it interesting might be the Style section.”
Slightly placated, Donnie starts scooping up his jellybeans and putting them back in his bowl. “Where are you doing the interview?”
“His land outside town,” I reply honestly. “Get to know his country boy roots. I’m hoping it’ll let me in past his image, getting back to who he used to be. You know what I mean?”
Donnie nods, his eyes pinching slyly. “Okay. Get a thread with the unvarnished Keith, and then tease that out. Even if it’s just innuendo, I want something, Elise. Now get the hell out of here. You owe me part three by the end of the day.”
“On it,” I reply, getting up. Going back to my desk, my head aches and my heart twists.
Dirt . . . well, I know dirt. I know some life-changing, bomb in the middle of the room sort of dirt. But I promised two people that I wouldn’t disclose it. And I won’t.
But what sort of dirt on Keith can I come up with that’ll be okay and still keep Donnie off my ass?
I’ve got a lot of work to do.
Chapter 16
Keith
The weather is perfect, late enough in the spring that my t-shirt and jeans are all I need for the days while the nights are going to be cool enough that Elise and I are going to have no problems snuggling up next to the fireplace in my cabin.
“It’s been too long since I’ve been up here,” I admit as we pull off the deserted dirt road onto the grassy shoulder at the trailhead, shifting my truck into park. “Guess I got too caught up with stuff this past winter. By the way, are you sure about those clothes?”
“What about them?” Elise asks, turning and sticking out her chest. “Don’t think I’m covered enough?”
I take a look at her tight blue tank top, the valley between her breasts deep and proudly displayed before clinging to her stomach and hips. Her legs are just as displayed, as Elise showed up wearing a pair of tights that show every curve of her body.
“You look amazing,” I tell her honestly, “but I’m just worried. It’s a five-mile hike to my cabin. Are you sure those tights are what you want to wear in the woods?”
Elise grins, shifting her knees and giving my eyes a little treat that sends a warning twinge down to my cock. “I’ll have you know, Mr. Country Music Star, that these are top of the line trail runner’s tights, and the person who sold them to me at the store told me they’re better for me than those old ass Levis you’re wearing. They support and compress my leg muscles, giving me just what I need.”
“And I thought I had what you needed,” I joke, making her blush. “Just one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Stay behind me on the trail because if
I have to spend five miles looking at your ass in those tights for the whole walk . . . well, we won’t last five miles before we scare the local wildlife.”
Elise grins, biting her lip. “Maybe I’ll want to take a break from walking . . . we’ll see. Come on, let’s get the packs.”
I could have come up here yesterday and brought the ATVs down, or there is an old fire trail that I could take if Elise and I wanted to bounce and jolt our way for ten miles going around the backside of the mountain, but hiking up for a weekend just felt more real.
I help her with her pack before grabbing mine. “Come on, and if your pack gets too heavy, tell me.”
“I’ll have you know, I was a Girl Scout. I did go camping . . . once or twice,” Elise says, grinning. We start off, and as we take the trail, a comfortable silence drops around us. It’s not totally quiet, of course. There’s plenty of natural forest sounds, but there are no cars, no traffic. Just us.
“Wow, it feels like another world,” Elise says quietly as we hike. “It’s . . . it’s kinda like you.”
“How’s that?” I ask, thinking how she nailed it in one single sentence. She’s got a gift for it, that’s for sure.
“Well, on the surface, it’s a little intimidating, beautiful but imposing at the same time,” Elise replies, her eyes still in the trees as we walk. “Then you get this sense of nothing going on, like it’s just boring and calm . . . but if you really look, there’s a lot going on. You just have to be quiet and let it unveil itself to you. You’re a lot like this place, I guess.”
I smile, reaching over and taking her hand. “And they say I’m the songwriter. Come on, if you think this is nice, wait’ll you get a view of the cabin.”
It takes us about ninety minutes to make the hike, taking our time because there’s really no need to rush. Elise does tease me a little as we go up one hill, pushing past me to give me a very inspiring view of her ass flexing as she makes her way up the trail. I probably could’ve made the climb quicker on my own, but I’ll admit to being more than happy with my slow, distracted pace since it gives me more time to admire Elise’s assets as we reach the crest and start down the other side.
“Just up this side trail,” I tell Elise as I unlock my gate and hold it open for her. “Don’t worry about the signs. They’re mostly to scare off hunters.”
“Do you get hunters out here?” Elise asks as she eyes the Private Property, Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted signs. “Or at least, have you had to prosecute anyone?”
“Once I found the water tank a little low. Someone had obviously refilled their water bags, but I’ve never had a break in,” I tell her, taking her hand. “Don’t worry, we’re perfectly safe.” I lock the gate behind us as we resume the final stretch of our hike.
“Is that what you call it when we’re alone together? Doesn’t feel safe to me,” Elise jokes. “To be honest, it feels . . . thrillingly dangerous, like the world’s sexiest rollercoaster.”
Conversation trickles off as we climb the last hill, the hardest one, actually, and we have to lean into the slope. It’s not that bad, but I am carrying three days’ worth of food and supplies for a weekend on my back.
I'm curious what she'll think of the cabin. It's definitely different from my house in the city, but as we crest the hill, I feel relieved. Her eyes widen and her hands pop up to cover her exclaimed, "Oh, my gosh!"
“You like it?”
She looks at me, a smile stretching over her beautiful flushed and glistening face. "It's perfect! It looks like something out of a painting."
I like that she can appreciate a rustic log cabin, even one as small as this. It's one of the things that sold me on the property too. I don’t need glitz and glam. I bought this place as a getaway because of the privacy and rustic charm.
“Well, come on then,” I reply with a grin. “Let’s get down there, get the fire going so we can have some hot water for later, and get things going!”
We go inside and drop our gear, and Elise seems enamored with the small space. The main room is a square with a bed to the left, a couch area to the right around the woodstove, and a working kitchen along the back wall. The bathroom is through a door off the kitchen. Bare-boned and simple, like I am at my core. The only concession to simplicity is the large hammock on the all-weather back porch, where Carsen and I have watched sunsets on numerous occasions.
“This is perfect,” Elise purrs, setting her bag down on the kitchen table-slash-food prep space. “And it’s ours all weekend?”
“Until we either have to go back or run out of food,” I joke, watching her. I like seeing her here. It feels right somehow. Watching her stretch out and wiggle on the couch, my cock thickens in my jeans and I know what I need.
“Come here,” I half-growl, feeling in touch with my inner wild nature. Elise’s lips are twisted in a little smirk that says she already knows what I want, and her hips are doing a tantalizingly sexy sashay as she comes closer.
“What for?” she asks, laughing happily when she's in arm’s reach and I grab her, kissing her deeply. Our bodies twist and tangle as I lift her up, walking her back to the couch and forcing her to clutch me tightly as I bend her backward.
There’s no worry, though. I’ve got her securely in my arms, and as she moans when she feels my cock press up against her thigh, I set her back upright, my heart hammering in my chest. “We need to get out of here,” I growl, “because I really want to show you some things . . . and if I don’t get you outside in the next ten seconds, I’m going to rip those tights off and devour your body until you can’t walk anymore.”
“Sounds good. I do want to see what you have to show me,” she purrs, running a hand over my chest. “I have some things I want to show you too.”
I groan, pressing into her touch for a moment before getting under control. "No, really. I have every plan to fuck you until we collapse of exhaustion tonight, but I want to show you the land out here first. And if we don't leave right now, there won’t be hot water, and I’d like to help you wash up after I get done burying myself inside that tight little pussy of yours."
She shudders in my arms, nodding. "God, I love how you talk to me. And I like that plan, but maybe I don’t need hot water when I’ve got you."
She’s pouting, but it's playful and I can see she's teasing me. She's been just as excited as I am about exploring the area. I pull her close one last time, grinding against her belly, and give her ass a good smack.
"Out, woman. Let's go."
She pulls away to walk toward the door, and I smack the other cheek for good measure. She looks back over her shoulder, sass and brattiness in her eyes, and I shrug. “I’m all about equal treatment, so the right had to get what the left got.”
“I’ll remember that later,” she says. “Your ass is mine, country boy.”
Outside, it’s still picture-perfect beautiful, and after showing Elise how to fire up the small generator I have and starting the water pumps, I lead her to the parking shed for my ATV. “Hop on.”
“And if I want to do the driving?”
I grin, mounting the ATV and firing it up. “After you know the local trails, I’ll be happy to let you. Safety first, though.”
Elise gets on behind me, pressing her breasts to my back and wrapping her arms around my waist, her hands dangerously close to my crotch. We ride, and I goof a bit, having fun and stopping to show her bits about the trail and property. Reaching the top of a ridge, I come to a stop at the beginning of a small trail. “Here’s a nice spot. Can’t take the ATV up though.”
Elise gives me an amused look but says nothing, which I appreciate. I’d hate to ruin the surprise. “So how’d you get into the outdoors?” Elise asks as we go. “You seem totally at home here.”
“Guess being country’s always been in my blood,” I explain, smiling. “My dad would take me out, sometimes into the mountains. We’d go fishing, camping . . . Dad wasn’t a hunter, but we had fun. There was this lake up at Lucky Peak that I loved to go s
wimming in. We had some good times there.” I fall quiet, not really wanting to talk about my parents and their reaction to my ‘damn-fool’ career, so I decide to turn the questions back on her. “What about you?”
“Other than those six months with the Girl Scouts, I’ve never really spent a lot of time outdoors,” she admits, grinning. “I did a few nature walks when I was in college, but those were more parks than real nature. I mean, you could hear the cars if you listened hard enough. Not at all like this.”
“Well, check this out then,” I tell her as the path ends in the clearing. I found this place on my first trip up here, and as Elise takes it in, I can tell she’s just as enchanted as I was. “It’s the biggest reason I bought the cabin.”
“It’s . . . you’ve got a fairy forest,” Elise says, looking around. The trees here are all pines, shooting high into the sky and shadowing a lot of the clearing, and for just a moment, I can imagine sparkly little creatures fluttering between the branches, intent on making magic.
“I never thought of fairies before, but it is magical,” I agree. Taking her hand, I lead her on. “And up here is the best part.”
I don’t know how a creek this high up in the hills is able to form a pool, but it does, with a soft grass bank and half of the pool in the shade, the other half in the sun. “Have a seat. I’d say swim, but it’s a bit cold except in July and August.”
Elise sits down, letting me gather her in my arms as we lean back, my leg cocked to the side to let her press her body against me. “And you don’t live here all the time why?”
I laugh softly, brushing a lock of her hair away from her cheek and inhaling the soft aroma that is naturally Elise. “If I thought I could, I might. But Carsen needs good schools, and besides, if I were up here all the time, I’d have to have visitors, all that shit. Ruin the scene. So I save it . . . for special people and for special occasions.”
Dirty Laundry Page 14
