He heard the sexy pout in her tone. “I am pleased. It’s just...I should have done more.”
“Nonsense.” Giggling, Daisy said, “So now I’m half your age.”
“That makes me feel a hell of a lot better!” Nick shook his head, picked up a stick and leaned over to rearrange the burning logs.
“Funny how it works.” Daisy leaned back on her hands. “I’ve been thinking. A person twenty-one is half the age of a person forty-two. But when the forty-two year old is sixty-two, the twenty-one year old will be forty-one, approximately two-thirds the age of the older person. So you see, I’m catching up with you.”
Nick scowled and then laughed from his belly. “Only a college student could come up with that one. But I’m glad you’re thinking ahead.”
It was Daisy’s turn to frown and withdraw. “It was purely hypothetical. I know how sensitive you are about our age difference.”
“Now, now, I didn’t want to send you into a tailspin. It’s your birthday. So tell me, what’s your favorite birthday memory?”
Daisy stiffened.
“Shit,” Nick cursed. “That must have been a bad question. I’m sorry. Can we start over? So it’s your birthday. That’s great.”
“Don’t,” Daisy whispered. “It’s okay. Cassie always did something. My grandmother made sure we had a cake.” Daisy paused. Her shoulders sagged. “When I was real young—four, I think—I remember my mother making a cake. We had party hats. The three of us and a man; I don’t recall who he was. He was just there, I think. Anyway, that’s the year I got a doll with a frilly dress. The year my mom died she forgot my birthday. She was already pretty far gone, I guess.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I survived. But to answer your question, my favorite birthday memories are two: getting the doll, and being here with you watching this fire.”
Nick’s heart suddenly expanded. Could a man choke to death on love? He kissed Daisy on the cheek. She turned and pressed her lips against his. It was a soft yet powerful kiss. There was no urgency in the embrace; it was fresh, assured, and filled with promise.
She wasn’t going to like what he had to say, yet he had to say it. She was too extraordinary to let slip through his fingers. He cleared his throat. “I know you don’t want to think about a real future between us.”
Her body shuddered against him, but she didn’t raise her head from his shoulder. “I can’t,” she muttered.
“I know. And I’m not pressing you. I just want to be clear on one thing right now. We’ve kidded each other about you being the student and me the sex education teacher.” He chuckled softly. “Thankfully, there have been numerous occasions when those roles were reversed.”
She smothered a laugh. At least he had her attention. “You seem to have come around to the idea that we’re lovers.”
Her head moved hesitantly on his shoulder. She was so still he feared she might break. “All I want is for us to be clear that we’re in a committed relationship.”
Again he felt her muscles go rigid. “I’m not talking about living together or anything else. Just that there are no other partners.” She softened; he was on target.
“And that if either one of us desires to move on, we have the good graces to inform the other and break it off with as much dignity as we can muster.” He paused.
There was silence.
“Well, what do you say about that?”
“Fine with me.” Daisy shrugged. “It’s not like I have a bunch of guys knocking down my door. You’re the only man I’ve ever slept with.” She grew silent.
Nick could hear gears turning in Daisy’s brain while she sorted out the implications of what he’d said. “Have there been other women...since that night in Shakopee?” she whispered.
Nick’s response was quick and firm. “Absolutely not. You are actually the first woman I took to bed in three years. There never seemed to be much of a point. Oh, I was fairly active for a while after the divorce. Proving myself, I guess. But then I sort of lost interest. Until you came along.”
“If I remember correctly, I had to almost beg you to make love to me that first time. It was quite embarrassing at first.” Daisy leaned back and looked at Nick.
He was afraid he’d lose himself in those smoky orbs.
“So would you have hit on me, if I hadn’t come to you first?”
Glancing at the fire, Nick shook his head. “I don’t really know. God, I wanted to. I wanted you from the moment I saw you bent over working on Blaze. Have I ever told you you have the cutest, tightest ass I’ve ever seen or held?”
Daisy placed a finger across her lower lip and gave him a pensive look. “Yes, I believe you have, several times. How about if you’d known my age?”
Nick recoiled. “No way.”
“Yet here we are.”
A hint of triumph colored her words. She was beginning to drive him nuts. If he even hinted at a long term future, she’d withdraw. Yet, their relationship was much more than frantic coupling, even for her.
“Can you tell me what kind of wood we’re burning?” Nick asked.
“I think it’s a combination of willow, ash, and birch. It’s what I could find that was down.”
“You know I’ve never told you my nickname for you is Willow.”
“No you haven’t,” she said, turning to stare softly at him.
“It’s not just your delightful willowy frame. It’s also your gray eyes. They remind me of willow smoke, particularly when you pout or when you’re all sultry and ready to climax.”
A small smile separated her lips. Her overbite became a little more distinctive. And her eyes were definitely shimmering like willow smoke. “I like that,” she murmured. “It makes me feel even more a part of this wilderness. That was a nice gift, Nick.”
“Willow is used in making sweat lodges in part because a willow branch will bend and yet maintain its strength. It’s very difficult to break a willow branch.”
“Interesting.”
“And a lot of carvers will seek out the diamond willow to fashion walking sticks, not only because of its strength, but also because as they carve the outer layers of bark away, natural colorful diamond shapes emerge in the grain of the wood.”
“I’d like to see that.”
“We’ll pick up some before we get out of northern Minnesota. The marshes up here are overrun with diamond willow.”
“Diamond shape.” Daisy tilted her head away from him and then gave him one of her more provocative looks. “Isn’t that like the shape of a canoe and...”
“You do have an erotic mind, Willow. And I like that a lot. Why don’t we put this fire out and turn in for the night?”
“So you can explore another diamond shape?” Daisy teased.
“Exactly. Would you like that?”
“Immensely.”
They both remained silent and turned their heads, listening. The low, rolling melodic sounds came from a distance across the water and then a response from nearby. The eerie conversation intensified, and then quieted.
“The loons are even more mournful tonight,” Daisy said in a hushed tone. “They must know it’s our last night here.”
“Maybe. Soon they’ll be leaving to head south for the winter. Maybe they’re making sure their mate isn’t left behind.” Nick stood and began to put out the fire and then changed his mind. “Would you like to sleep out here tonight? With the frost we had a couple nights ago, the mosquitoes are gone. If it gets too cold, we can always go into the tent.”
“Great!” Daisy rose and headed toward the tent. “I’ll get the sleeping bags. It’ll be fantastic having the stars as our blanket.”
- o -
Had she ever been more satisfied? Daisy snuggled next to Nick. His arm draped across her breasts and their hips pressed together while he snored softly. Their tender lovemaking still warmed her. Drowsy and sated, she could not sleep. The stars seemed so close she should be able to reach out and touch them.
&nbs
p; Why did they have to go back? Daisy closed her eyes briefly. Of course they had to go back.
A smile crept across her face. Wasn’t there a children’s story about wishing upon a star? She opened her eyes. There were countless stars. What if she wished Reggie was sent away to prison for a very long time? He deserved it. Wouldn’t Maxine be better off without him? But wasn’t that a mean wish? Why can’t they just leave me alone? She closed her eyes, willing sleep to take away her dread.
You’ll be okay, girl. You’re the only one who can help you. Keep your wits about you and trust no one. The words of her grandmother came to her like the call of the loon out of the darkness of the night. Yes, Grandma, she screamed silently. I know. Aloneness spread through her muscle fibers like a cancer. “Never turn your back on blood.” Daisy began to tremble and then she was shaking.
Nick pulled her closer. “Are you cold?” he asked, half awake.
“No,” Daisy mumbled. “It was a bad dream.”
“Oh.”
His regular inhaling and exhaling let her know that he was asleep again. She compressed her lips and then let out a big breath preparing to do battle with wakefulness.
She opened her eyes. She squinted. Her eyes widened. “Oh my God,” she exclaimed, poking Nick.
“What the...” He rose to a sitting position.
“Look. Look at the sky!” Daisy was standing now—even naked, she wasn’t chilled. “It’s spectacular. I’ve only ever read about it. The dance of the lights. There aren’t enough words to describe what’s going on inside me.”
“I know.” Nick stepped up behind her, encircling her in his arms.
The warmth of his body covered her backside like a blanket. It felt right. She felt whole. No matter what happened tomorrow or the next day, in this moment standing under the Northern Lights, she was whole.
“They seem to have a life of their own, pulsating first one direction and then another.” She arched her neck. “Some of them are directly overhead. God, it’s like they are enfolding us. I wonder if anyone else is noticing.”
“Probably. Although not too many people are likely out at one o’clock in the morning.”
They stood and watched for minutes. “Look at that red panel of light. It’s coming out of the lake. There’s another. Green. White. Red. What’s happening, Nick?”
Nick chuckled softly in her ear. “It’s an illusion. All the sheets of light are still coming from the sky—from the sun, actually. But it sure does look like they’re bouncing off the water.”
“There’s something very primal about this.”
“We could come back hundreds of times and not see a light show like this. I think you’re looking at nature’s birthday candles just for you.” He nibbled on her ear.
His arousal pressed against her bare bottom. She wiggled, encouraging him. His lips brushed her shoulder; his hands cupped her breasts. Already, she felt her breathing shorten. His teeth nipped at her shoulder. She gasped.
With him at her back, she felt helpless to participate. She reached around to squeeze his butt. He bit her shoulder harder. She moaned. He rolled a nipple between thumb and finger. She gave in to self-pleasure and stroked the unattended nipple.
“I like it when you help,” he whispered, hoarsely. “There’s something primal about that, too.”
His words acted like a whip. Through half-closed eyes she watched sheets of red and green dance across the lake while her fingers roamed across her belly to her mound of curls. She was soaking. His hand joined hers. Two fingers entered her heat—one hers, one his.
It was too much. It was just right. “Now!” she screamed, jerking against him. “Now.” She stilled. He held her as she crumpled to her knees.
Then she positioned herself on hands and knees and rotated her rear in invitation. “I’m ready, are you?”
An inarticulate grunt was his response. He entered her with a single swift push. He paused, catching his breath. She squeezed down. He yelped and began to move. She smiled, keeping her eyes open. She wasn’t going to miss the lights playing upon the water.
He leaned over, pushed her hair aside and ran his tongue across the base of her neck. Daisy threw her head back, encouraging him. A coiling sensation began tightening within her loins. “Deeper,” she groaned.
“You want deeper,” he muttered, rising to his feet.
“Ah.” Her entire body smiled. It was the coupling of wild horses. He slammed into her with a fierceness she’d not experienced. She greeted each thrust by arching her back, taking as much as she could and demanding more. She wanted to swallow him up. She wanted to possess him. She never wanted to let him go.
It couldn’t go on forever. He let out ragged breaths; his thighs quivered against her rear. He pulled back and forged ahead again and then her world exploded into reds, greens, and whites. No longer were they watching the lights. No longer were they transformed by the lights. They were the lights.
In some small corner of her mind, she was aware that Nick was cradling her as they both collapsed to the sleeping bags. She forced her eyes open. The lights were gone. They had disappeared as quickly as they had come. She couldn’t be sad about their leaving, for she had been royally blessed by their presence.
She listened quietly to Nick struggling for breath. At last he spoke, “Now that was primal. Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“I couldn’t be better. Yes, that was memorable. There will never be another birthday like this one. You can stay right where you are if you want, but I think I’m going to sleep now.”
Chapter Nine
“It’s a pretty little town,” Daisy remarked, peering out at the main street and stores with old-time storefront facades.
Nick nodded. “Virginia’s done a lot to maintain its small town charm. It’s a mining town, actually. Lumber and taconite have been its lifeblood. Taconite still is. This whole area is deservedly known as the Iron Range. According to old timers, the Range supplied most of the iron ore needed to support the World War II effort. Lot of Finns and Swedes live up here: hardworking, nose-to-the-grindstone kind of folk.”
“And why are we stopping here?”
“I want to say hi to an old friend. Missed him on my last trip through.”
Daisy grinned. It seemed Nick had an old friend just about everywhere they’d been. They’d stopped at an Ely outfitter before entering the Boundary Waters so Nick could do some backslapping and find out what kinds of bait and lures the fish were hitting.
Coming back from Ely on their way to Virginia, not far before the divide that Nick informed her was the point where waters ran north instead of south, he’d pulled off the main road onto a narrow dusty lane and stopped at a small farmhouse seemingly in the middle of nowhere. An older woman had come out and greeted Nick like he was a long lost relative. Turned out he was. She was an older cousin, and was not only happy to see Nick and his friend but was more than willing to have Nick collect diamond willow branches from her marsh.
After sharing a glass of lemonade, they were on their way again until he turned into the small town of Virginia. At this rate, they might not make it back to Chicago until Christmas. Idly, Daisy pressed her nose against the SUV window, trying to imagine what Christmas was like up here in the north country. It must be pretty, with lots of white snow. She’d always enjoyed the first snow of the season, but far too quickly the white flakes turned into blackened mounds that she had to climb over or avoid one way or another.
Nick angled into a parking spot. “We’re here. Come on.”
She followed close behind until Nick stopped in front of Witala’s Jewelry Store. “You have a friend who works here?”
“Frank owns the place. We go back a long way.” Nick grabbed Daisy’s hand. She allowed herself to be pulled through the entryway.
“Well, look what the wind blew up from the south,” said a tall, thin, balding man standing behind a counter of jewelry displays. He was beaming, obviously pleased to welcome Nick.
The t
wo men shook hands and slapped shoulders. This was a man ritual with which Daisy was becoming quite familiar.
“Frank, want you to meet my companion, Daisy.”
Daisy shook the extended hand and made the appropriate grunts, wondering what companion was supposed to convey. Sounded like more than a friend. But not too much more. She could live with that. After last night, Nick could call her most anything and she’d follow.
She tried to plug herself back into the conversation. The men had gone through the weather and sports. She figured it was about time to leave.
“So what do you have in necklaces, Frank?”
Daisy scowled.
“I can’t match your taste or your billfold, Nick.”
“I’m not looking to impress. I just want to see if you have something that can be a memento of our trip.”
“I don’t need another memento,” Daisy protested. “I have all kinds of memories. And you took loads of pictures.”
“How about something with an opal?”
Frank smiled at Daisy. “The man can be stubborn.”
“I’ve noticed.”
Frank turned and walked with a noticeable limp ten feet away and pulled out a thin oblong box which had not been on display. He brought it back to where they stood and carefully lifted the lid. Five pendants were richly displayed against a black background with fine gold chains tucked underneath.
“Now you’re talking,” Nick declared. “Looks like three opals.”
Daisy glared. She wouldn’t know an opal if it reached up and bit her. They all looked stunning.
Nick plucked one from the box and held it up so the light played off the jewel. Daisy gasped. The pendant had come to life. Little specks of red, blue, and green danced across a white background, vividly reminding her of the way the lights had danced the night before and then of their lovemaking. She knew color was racing from her ankles to her hair roots, but it didn’t matter. Nick was right. The opal was a perfect memento of so very much.
Willow Smoke (Riders Up Book 3) Page 14
