The song changed to the slower ballad “Silver Springs,” and Lucky wrapped both of his arms around her, pulling her in close to his body. She sighed, resting her head on his invisible shoulder. This felt so perfect, yet made no sense.
“Babe, just live in the moment.”
His bedroom voice rumbled under her ear, and the scent of fresh mountain air twined around her. She didn’t even mind his use of “babe” as she had the other night. This time her insides melted with the endearment. His hands caressed up and down her back, as his hips brushed tantalizingly against hers.
He slowed their movements until they were basically standing in place, holding each other and swaying to the music.
“My mother read your Tarot cards today.”
“I know. I was there. I couldn’t communicate due to the storm, but I heard every word.”
“How close did the reading come?”
“Damn freaky. Your mother is one woman who is tuned into the Universe.”
“How much do you believe?”
“Just the fact that I’m here with you now has me believing everything.”
“What’s the time limit that the cards spoke of? And the choices you must make?”
“The Northern Lights dictate the time I can be with you. Once they settle back down to normal, I won’t be able to return to this plane. Unless....”
“Unless what?”
“I must choose to stay or to move on.”
“If you choose to stay how would that work?”
“Much like a spirit who is tied to his life.”
“And if you move on?”
There was a long pause as he slowly turned her in a small circle. “There is no place that I would rather be than in your arms.”
“We are talking Heaven here, right? You want to give up Heaven to be with me?”
“Gemma, when I’m with you I feel more alive than I did when I was alive.”
“But you climbed mountains, lived on the edge. How does being with me, like this, compare to all that you have done before?”
“Don’t you realize that love is the biggest adventure of all?”
Did that mean he loved her?
“Yes.”
“You’re supposed to stay out of my head.”
“That is too important of a question not to hear...or answer.”
She stopped swaying and stood still within his arms. “What do you see as a future for us?”
“I don’t know.” His arms tightened around her as though he was afraid she’d break their embrace. “All I know is that love is the most important thing out there. Love traverses life and death. Close your eyes, Gemma. Let me show you.”
Part of her wanted to do exactly that. Close her eyes and be lost in the fantasy of this man. But wouldn’t that be opening herself for heartache to come? Of course it would.
“Gemma?”
“I need some time to think.” This was not the ideal relationship. What kind of future would they have together? Her always alone except for her “imaginary” friend. While she believed he was real, others would not. They might do to her what they’d done to her mother and commit her to the mental ward of the hospital.
“Gemma?” Lucky prompted again. “You aren’t crazy. I’m real, just physically impaired. We were meant to be together.”
Meant to be or not, what about children? She wanted them. Had always dreamt of a big family. She’d been an only child. Children needed siblings to play with, plot with, and help care for their parents. She wanted at least four kids. And no way could a dead man get her pregnant. That she was pretty damn positive about.
“We can figure this out. Together.”
But the deeper her heart was involved with Lucky, the harder it would be to let him go.
Under her hands she felt taut muscles, and smooth flesh dusted with fine hair. What she wouldn’t give to actually see him. Her eyes slid shut and there he was in her mind. The adventurous man from Tern’s picture. Real, vibrant, and so alive. She pressed her body harder against his and glorified in the moan of pain and pleasure that seemed torn from him.
“I’ve never had a woman affect me like this. Never felt desire so deep.”
Neither had she.
One of his thighs thrust between her legs, and it was her turn to moan as she made more room for him, straining against him. His hands cupped her behind and lifted her. Swinging her around, he pressed her against the bookcase of Divination and Prophecy. A few books hit the floor, and she didn’t care. All that occupied her mind and body was Lucky and how he coaxed the wicked little flame inside her into a greedy fire.
“Gemma, Gemma. I can’t get enough of you. I need you. To be part of you.”
She felt the release on the button of her slacks and the zipper slide down. Why, oh why hadn’t she worn a skirt today? Her clothing was too restrictive.
He gave a soft chuckle. “Oh, babe, you are the sweetest thing I’ve ever known.”
Her head started to buzz as everything inside her pooled into a wave of unquenchable thirst. He’d been stringing her along for weeks, with her waking just before diving over the edge into bliss.
But tonight she was awake.
She felt the bookshelves dig into her back, the tight band around her upper thighs as he held her still, positioning her perfectly for the rubbing of his engorged erection through the constraints of her clothing. The need to have him deep within her, now, caused her ears to ring.
The impatient peal of the phone rang throughout the store, clashing with Fleetwood Mac’s “Rhiannon.”
“Ignore it,” Lucky murmured, his tongue doing amazing things to her breasts. She hadn’t even realized he’d gotten her sweater off and the front closure of her bra undone.
“Please,” she whispered but didn’t know if the plea was for him to stop so she could silence the blasted phone or to keep going so she could finally climb that peak he’d been driving her toward since that first dream visit.
His rough hand cupped her breast, holding her prisoner as his tongue lavished her erect nipple. The phone went silent, and she gave a groan of relief that quickly turned to a sound of pleasure as he took her nipple into his mouth. Her inner muscles contracted as he sucked, nipped, and licked. She might be able to clamber over the crest just on the attention he showed her breasts.
But she wanted more. She wanted all.
The phone pealed again, seeming angrier than the last time if that were possible. Who was she kidding? She was having the most intense make out session with a corporeal impaired being. Of course phones could ring with emotion.
“Holy balls, you’ve got to be kidding,” she said. The damn thing was not going to shut up.
“I’ve never had a woman refer to my balls in a religious context before. I like it,” Lucky said, humor in his voice.
She choked on a laugh, but sobered when she opened her eyes and caught the definite outline of the man in front of her. Her breath caught. “Don’t move.”
“What’s wrong? Besides the phone.”
“I can almost see you,” she whispered.
“What?”
While his image wasn’t fleshed out, she could see where he was, like a mirage in a desert. He was there and yet he wasn’t.
The phone started up again. It obviously wasn’t a customer wanting a book put on hold. “I’d better get that.”
“I’m not letting you go.” Next thing she knew he’d carried her to the information desk in the middle of the store so that she could reach the phone. She didn’t take her eyes off Lucky, afraid if she did, his image would dissolve. Blindly, she reached behind her for the receiver.
“Chinook Books,” she answered breathlessly.
“Oh, thank goodness I reached you,” Rosie said. “Siri’s been arrested.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Gemma drove to the police station mad at herself for being so dang distracted that she hadn’t realized what day it was and how her mother would celebrate the spring equinox. Siri had,
no doubt, demonstrated some pagan ritual naked.
How many times had she bailed out her mother?
Rosie had apologized profusely for not watching Siri closely enough. The clever, conniving woman had begged off dinner, saying she was feeling poorly and needed some sleep. Rosie had bought it and got lost in her favorite BBC TV series.
That’s all it took. A few minutes and Siri was gone, stripping down to her birthday suit in the middle of the Bentley Mall. At least she was inside and not baring all outside in cold enough temperatures sure to cause frostbite.
Gemma pulled into the Troopers Station off Peger Road. “Lucky?”
“I’m right here,” he said in the seat next to her.
She didn’t know if she should feel relieved or more stressed that he’d insisted riding shotgun. The fabric of her life seemed to be unraveling thread by thread.
“It will be all right, Gemma.” He took her hand in his and squeezed before releasing her.
She took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. The brisk air helped to clear her head. As she reached to open the door to the building, it swung open presumably by itself.
“Maybe you should stay in the car,” Gemma said.
“There is no need for you to handle this alone.”
“I have many times before,” she muttered under her breath. “If you’re going in there with me, no more opening doors. We’re talking Alaska State Troopers here. They’re a suspicious lot, and magically swinging doors are going to produce some questions.”
“Got it.”
Gemma managed the second door in the Arctic entryway and walked up to the desk where a young trooper, who looked to be just out of the academy, sat on the night shift. His badge said Trooper Cooper.
“Hi, I’m here for Siri Star.”
“Good. The woman is driving us batty. I almost called the psych ward.”
Gemma blanched. Not the psych ward. The last time had been rough. Lucky placed a supportive hand on her back, and knowing that she wasn’t alone in this situation felt so good that tears popped to her eyes.
“Stop right there,” Trooper Cooper said, his voice stern but lost its effect with his baby face. “I don’t do tears.” He jumped to his feet and hurried to usher Gemma back where her mother was being held.
Siri sat completely naked in the middle of the cell in the lotus position, her arms out to the side, thumbs and forefingers together as she hummed some incoherent mantra.
“Holy Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.” Trooper Cooper threw up a hand to shield his eyes. “We gave her something to wear. The woman was fully dressed last time I saw her.” He shook his head as though that would help wipe Siri’s image out of his memory banks.
There was one thing about her mother, she left an impression.
“Mom?” Gemma walked up to the bars, her hands wrapping around the cold metal. The concrete floor had to be freezing. “Mom,” she called again, but Siri continued with her mantra. Then she abruptly stopped.
Her eyes flew open and nailed Gemma on the spot. “You brought your Dreamweaver.”
How did she know Lucky was here?
Trooper Cooper unlocked the cell, holding it open for Gemma to enter, keeping his back to Siri the whole time. “Get her dressed, and I’ll speed up the paperwork.”
“Thank you.”
Gemma entered the cell. “Mom, we need to get you dressed.”
“You need to get your Dreamweaver the hell away from me.”
“Mrs. Star,” Lucky said besides Gemma. “I come in peace.”
Siri stuck her fingers in her ears and began chanting louder.
“Mom.” Gemma knelt on her haunches in front of Siri and put her hands on her shoulders, giving her a hard shake. If she didn’t get her to stop the trooper was bound to call in the guys with the straight jackets. “When was the last time you took your medication?”
Siri stopped chanting and glared at Gemma. “I don’t need any medication. I’m not crazy.” She narrowed her eyes in Lucky’s direction. “And it’s Ms. Star.”
“Right.” Gemma redirected Siri’s attention. “Then tell me why you are naked in a jail cell after being arrested for public lewdness.”
“It’s the equinox.”
Like that explained away everything.
“Mom, we need to get you dressed.”
“Not with him here.”
See, crazy. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned that you’re naked in front of Lucky than getting dressed in front of him?”
Siri flattened her lips in a stubborn line.
Gemma let out a frustrated sound and got to her feet to reach for the orange inmate uniform that Siri must have shed as soon as she was left alone. But Lucky beat her to it, holding the clothes suspended behind Siri. She sent him a mental thank you and took the uniform. “Hands up,” she ordered Siri.
Siri grumbled, but like a two-year-old, she raised her arms above her head and let Gemma yank the top down. Siri continued to mutter nonsense as Gemma pulled her to her feet and had her step into the cotton pants.
“Why have you not heeded my warnings?” Siri asked, once fully covered. “Dreamweavers are nothing to fool around with. Your soul is at stake here, Gemini.”
Rosie suddenly appeared, holding up a bag filled with prescription bottles. “I found her pills. She’s been stashing them in the couch cushions.” Rosie shook her head. “By my calculations, she’s been off her meds for two weeks.”
“I’m not taking them.” Siri crossed her arms over her chest. “And you can’t make me.”
Oh great, she was once again the parent of a middle-aged toddler. Gemma breathed a tired sigh.
A hand massaged the muscles at the base of her neck. If she turned, she’d see nothing, but she felt Lucky silently offering support. She’d give anything to be able to lean back and let him help her take care of things. How she wanted to just sleep. Lay her head down and check out for a few days. But with Siri’s latest shenanigans, sleep was the last thing she’d be able to do.
She’d been alone for what seemed like forever. Her dad had died when she was eight, and since that time she’d been the main decision maker. It had been up to her to make sure they’d eaten. Left to Siri, Gemma had gone days without a real meal. Eating whatever she could scrounge. She’d learned fast how to procure groceries, cook dinner, and hide money to pay the bills. She’d been an adult for a long time. More years than her twenty-five years. Being able to lean on someone was more seductive than the hottest kiss.
Thankfully Rosie had moved in with them after Social Services started visiting. A teacher had become concerned when Gemma had worn the same outfit to school for more than two weeks. She’d been clean, well as clean as an eight-year-old could be washing her own clothes.
Aunt Rosie had taken pity on the both of them and promptly taken over. That had helped. And had kept Gemma out of foster care. Barely.
“In ancient times your mother would have been revered for her talents,” Lucky said, obviously trying to soothe.
“I don’t need some Dreamweaver standing up for me,” Siri said. “Though, thank you for that.”
Witnessing her mother naked for all the world and God to see would scare off most suitors—though her mother still looked dang good at fifty. The scary thing was the brightness of her eyes and the crazy stuff coming out of her mouth. She seemed high on something. Gemma had seen her high many times with all the “organic” foods her mother baked—when she had baked. But she’d hoped between her and Rosie they’d nipped that. Trooper Cooper didn’t seem to suspect narcotics or she was sure a blood test would have already been performed and Siri charged with more than indecent exposure.
“Wait a minute. Mom, you can hear him?”
“Of course I can.” She gave Gemma a look that questioned her intelligence.
Gemma turned to Rosie. “Can you hear him?”
“Hear who. I have no idea what the two of you have been talking about since I got here. I’ve been contemplating whether or not I should t
ake Siri’s meds.”
“Just an idea,” Lucky interjected, “but you might want to move this conversation somewhere more comfortable and with less institutional ears.”
“Your Dreamweaver has a point,” Siri said. “Besides, I’d like some tea. The floor of this place was mighty cold on my nether regions.”
“A shower might be in store too,” Gemma said. Who knew the things that had walked across this floor? “Rosie, if you can stay with her—” and make sure she stays dressed, she silently added, “—I’ll go see what Trooper Cooper needs from us so that we can leave.”
“Trooper Cooper?” Rosie smirked. “Bet the poor soul takes a few ribbings on that name.”
Whether he did or not, Gemma planned on being sweet as the Bun on the Run’s cinnamon rolls in order to get out of here fast.
She signed the papers Trooper Cooper had prepared, paid the bail money, and took the copies of the arrest with the court date. Wonderful, another day in front of the judge. Somehow she had to keep Siri on her meds and out of jail. Maybe it was time to get Rosie some help. Gemma sure didn’t want to move in with either of them. She’d fought hard for her independence.
Gemma returned to Siri with Trooper Cooper who acted very relieved to see her fully dressed. They did the checking out—since Siri had been brought in naked there were no personal effects to claim—and then Rosie and Gemma escorted Siri to Rosie’s Jeep Cherokee.
“Gemma, there is really no need for you to see us home. I can get Siri cleaned up and in bed. I’ll make sure she takes her meds, but getting her an appointment with Doc Walton Monday wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
Gemma nodded, too tired to think straight. “Thanks, Rosie.”
“I’m just so sorry she got away from me tonight. If I had been thinking straight myself, I would have figured she was up to something.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. You weren’t the only one not thinking straight.”
“I really hate it when you guys talk about me like I’m not here,” Siri chimed in.
“Well, I really hate bailing you out of jail.”
Wild Men of Alaska Collection Page 21
