FLOWERS and CAGES

by Mary J. Williams

  "Dangling revenge as a reward, Tolliver and his cronies believed I would jump through their carefully placed hoops. They believe they're better than Judge Langley."

  "It's relative." Colleen stared at the star-filled sky. "Pick your poison. They'll both kill you, but one is a little less painful."

  "Which one?" Dalton speculated.

  "Luckily, you won't have to find out. What are you going to do about Collier?"

  Dalton wished he knew. "I could throw my support and money behind his opponent. But who's to say he—or she—would be any better?"

  "Whatever you decide, it doesn't have to be tonight."

  "There's always Tolliver's solution."

  "No," Colleen said calmly—matter of factly. "Times have changed. It takes a lot to ruin a politician. I have no doubt your fans would believe you, but the court records tell a different story. You were convicted. Good luck getting the witnesses to admit they lied. Unfortunately, I'm afraid Judge Langley's money—and influence—bought a lifetime of silence."

  "It is my word against theirs." Turning on his side, Dalton leaned over Colleen, their faces inches apart. He needed to look into her expressive green eyes. "Why do you believe me?"

  Colleen touched his cheek, her expression serene. Yet something fierce and intense lay in the green depths of her gaze.

  "Sometimes you just know, Dalton. My trust isn't blind. But until you show me I'm wrong, it is absolute."

  Colleen's words acted like a spark touched to a pile of kindling. Dalton couldn't wait a second longer. Pulling her close, he pressed his mouth to hers. This was not a tentative kiss. There was no easing in or gentle exploration. He had wanted Colleen from the moment he saw her. Less than forty-eight hours. It felt like forever.

  "I came prepared." Tasting the patch of skin just below Colleen's ear, Dalton ran his tongue along her neck. Mm. Like the sweetest candy.

  "So did I." The sound Colleen made was half laugh, half moan. "There is a box of condoms in my purse."

  "Too far away." From his pocket, Dalton produced a strip of foil packets. "Between us, we should have enough." His lips curved against hers. "At least for tonight."

  Smiling, Colleen tugged playfully at his hair. "Stop bragging and get to work, drummer boy."

  "No work involved. This is pure pleasure."

  Clothing first. Dalton craved the touch of Colleen's soft skin. There was something about the easy slide of a zipper on a woman's dress. He felt as though he was opening a present. In this case, the wrapping covered a warm, willing, sexy gift. A practically naked Colleen.

  Peeling the material away, he followed with his mouth. Following the slope of Colleen's shoulder, he used his teeth to slide her bra strap down her arm. When his fingers found the front clasp, he didn't know whose sigh was louder, his or Colleen's. Lord, she was lovely. Her breasts were perfect, as though they were made to fit in his hand.

  "You've done this before," Colleen said as he tossed her bra away. Her teasing laugh became a low moan the second his mouth closed over the hard, straining tip.

  "Once or twice," Dalton admitted, biting lightly.

  While Dalton made a feast of Colleen's breasts, he slid the dress down her hips, pushing it all the way off. Straddling her hips, Dalton made quick work of his shirt, all the while taking in the view. Colleen stretched her arms over her head, a knowing smile on her lips.

  "My, you're pretty," she purred, her gaze taking in Dalton's bare chest and flat stomach.

  "Glad you like what you see." In a few efficient moves, the rest of Dalton's clothes joined the growing pile at the bottom of the blanket.

  "Like doesn't cover it."

  Colleen reached for him, her fingers closing over his erection. Dalton breathed deeply, using all his willpower. A few strokes of her talented hand and this might end before they got to the good part. Reluctantly, he peeled her fingers away. He wasn't moved by her murmur of displeasure.

  "You want to play?" Dalton asked as he rolled on a condom.

  "I want to taste."

  "Jesus, Colleen." Her words, plus the way she licked her lips, made his heated flesh jump in his hand. He grabbed her panties, ripping the scrap of lace in two. "I can't wait another second."

  "Good." Colleen twined her legs around his, her hands sliding up his chest. "Neither can I."

  With a sigh of relief, Dalton sank into Colleen. Slow. Steady. He wanted her to feel every inch of him. He wanted to savor her tight, slick heat. Colleen's green eyes glowed emerald. It was a heady moment. Her body opened for him—welcomed him. When he could seemingly edge no further, Dalton surged forward, taking one more inch. Colleen gasped with pleasure, her fingers digging into his back.

  "Sweet spot?" Dalton asked. Before Colleen could answer, he hit it again. This time, she didn't gasp. She purred.

  "Where has that been all my life?" Colleen panted, licking her bottom lip.

  "Hold on. The ride has just begun."

  Unable to resist, Dalton took Colleen's mouth with his, sucking on her bottom lip, savoring her taste. When had kissing become so vital? For him, it had always been nice. A pathway to warming up his partner. A kiss, or ten, led to sex—always his endgame. But it was different with Colleen. He wanted—needed—all of her. The touch of her skin. The brush of her lips. Her tongue against his. Her breasts pressing into his chest. Her legs wrapped around his and the tantalizing massage of her foot as it moved up and down his calf. Dalton was aware of everything. His senses heightened.

  For the first time in Dalton's life, sex wasn't about rushing toward the conclusion. He opened his mind—and his body—to all the little moments. Suddenly, being with a woman—with Colleen—became more than it had ever been.

  "Dalton," Colleen breathed, her teeth sinking into his shoulder. "Please. I need—"

  "I know what you need," Dalton kissed her again. Hard. Desperate. "I'm with you, Colleen. All the way."

  Dalton always set the rhythm. It was his job, and nobody did it better. However, the best drummers fed those around him. It was Colleen who showed him when to slow things down. He set the beat, but she set the tone. It was a gradual blending of styles until they hit that moment. The peak. A perfect blending of bodies. They reached the pinnacle and toppled over into oblivion—together.

  "I CAN'T BELIEVE you packed all this food." Dalton took a bite of chicken leg, sighing with contentment.

  "About six months ago, a deli opened on the main drag. I wouldn't say that civilization has come to Midas. But The Hungry Traveler improved the takeout options by leaps and bounds."

  "I approve wholeheartedly."

  "I dated one of the Midas elite," Colleen continued. Seeing Dalton's raised eyebrows, she shrugged. "Briefly. In my defense, it was one long, cold winter. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Something to break the monotony."

  "It didn't work out?" Setting aside the chicken, Dalton dug into a pile of creamy potato salad.

  "Next to Hector Plank, monotony seemed exciting."

  "Ouch. Poor Hector."

  Colleen chuckled, taking a sip from her bottle of water. Dalton nursed his second beer. "I won't lie. The disappointment went both ways. I thought he would add some fun to my life. He thought some wrong-side-of-the-tracks sex would give him bragging rights with his friends."

  "And?" Dalton asked, fascinated to know the answer.

  "Again. Poor Hector. One limp-lipped kiss and I knew it wouldn't work."

  "I can't feel a whole lot of sympathy for Hector." Dalton passed Colleen a napkin. "What does any of that have to do with our current feast?"

  "For our third—and last date—Hector took me to dinner at his parents' house. His too, since he lived at home. Still does."

  "Naturally," Dalton sneered.

  "It's fairly common in Hector's world. Collier and Bonnie are firmly ensconced with Judge Langley. But I digress." Colleen popped an olive into her mouth. "Dinner consisted of tiny portions swimming in oddly seasoned sauces. That
was bad enough for my digestion. Add an icy glare from Hector's mother and his father's ill-concealed leers. I dumped my date at my front door then chowed down on peanut butter and saltines. The chances of that happening again were slim. However…"

  "Mm. Forearmed, so to speak." Dalton smiled as he raised his bottle. An hour ago, he couldn't imagine finding humor in the Tolliver situation, but here he was. Sexually satiated—for the time being. A full stomach. The world looked infinitely brighter.

  "Exactly. If we hadn't needed the food, I would have put it in my refrigerator and feasted for the next few days."

  Dalton sat on his side of the picnic table, watching Colleen clean her plate with unapologetic ease. He had dated women who picked at a salad while managing to take a bite or two—maybe. Then there were the ones, like Colleen, who enjoyed their food. They didn't agonize over every calorie. Dalton—and every man he knew—preferred the latter. He understood the pressure society put on women. The unrealistic body images projected on the cover of over-photoshopped fashion magazines. It wasn't fair. But it was the reality.

  "I hope you left room for dessert," Colleen said, pushing away her empty plate. "Because waiting in that cooler is the most decadently delicious batch of brownies ever created."

  Dalton wanted dessert. But not the kind baked in an oven. Leaning across the table, he slipped a hand behind Colleen's neck. His fingers tightened around the strands of her soft, moonlight-caressed hair. Once, twice, three times he brushed his lips across hers.

  "The brownies sound good. But my sweet tooth is craving something sweeter. Can you guess what I want?"

  "Me?" Colleen sighed, coyly batting her eyelashes.

  Vaulting over the table, he lifted Colleen into his arms. In two strides, he had her laid out on the blanket. His eyes locked with hers, he slid his hand slowly up her smooth leg.

  Dalton covered Colleen's body with his and whispered, "You got it right in one."

  CHAPTER TEN

  ANOTHER MORNING, ANOTHER run through the deserted streets of Midas. There were differences. This time, Dalton paid attention to more than the feel of the ground beneath his feet and the sad, dusty buildings that populated this part of town. Keeping his eyes peeled, he watched for someone who might be following him. Hardly an expert on surveillance, Dalton wasn't sure what he was looking for. It seemed unlikely that he would spot a man in a trench coat pointing a huge pair of binoculars his way.

  However, as Dalton stepped out of his motel room, he went to one knee. Ostensibly, he was there to check the lace on his right shoe. Instead, his eyes searched the parking lot, the scraggly patch of trees to his right, and for good measure, the panes of dirty glass that separated him from the other rooms. If somebody really wanted to keep an eye on Dalton's activities, what better way than to park his butt on a crappy chair behind the crappier curtains.

  By the end of his first mile, he had to laugh at himself. Apparently, Tolliver Cline and his machinations had freaked Dalton out more than he realized. He knew what it was like to be the center of attention. Paparazzi went out of their way to track him down in the oddest places. If he couldn't handle a little small-town craziness, he might as well pack up his drumsticks and retire. Still, for his own peace of mind, Dalton took a different route than yesterday. If he unexpectedly ran into one of Tolliver's cronies, he would know the game was afoot.

  Dalton snorted. One had to love Sherlock Holmes.

  The sun was clear of the eastern horizon when Dalton let himself back into his room. The bed was empty, but he could hear the distinct sound of water running. Pulling his sweat-drenched t-shirt over his head, Dalton toed off his shoes. Next came his shorts until the only thing he wore was an anticipatory smile.

  Steam rose to the bathroom ceiling. To Dalton's surprise, behind the plastic shower curtain, Colleen belted out a polished rendition of I Will Survive. One that would have done Gloria Gaynor proud.

  Pulling back the curtain, Dalton joined Colleen, sliding his arms around her waist. Impressed that his sudden appearance didn't make her miss a beat, he began harmonizing, his deep voice crooning near her ear. She leaned back, finishing the last line before turning her head and taking his mouth with a long, lusty kiss.

  With a growl of pleasure, Dalton took Colleen's hands, pressing them flat against the side of the shower. Reaching around the curtain, his fumbled around the counter until his hand made contact with the familiar feel of a foil-enclosed condom. Quickly efficient, Dalton rolled on the protection then sheathed himself inside Colleen.

  "That must have been some run," Colleen gasped, her head falling back.

  "Invigorating," Dalton whispered against the side of her neck, his tongue lapping at the Colleen-flavored water.

  "Mm. Invigorating." Reaching back, Colleen threaded her fingers through Dalton's hair, tightening her grasp when, without warning, he thrust his hips forward. "The run? Or me?"

  "Both."

  Dalton cupped Colleen's breast with his hand, the other sliding between her legs. One more push, one stroke of his finger, sent her over the edge. With the feel of her orgasm rippling over his erection and the sound of her pleasure-filled moans, Dalton followed close behind.

  Lightly kissing Colleen's back, Dalton grinned. Best post-run shower ever.

  "HAVE YOU EVER considered doing that for a living?"

  The question earned Dalton a wet towel in the face.

  "Watch it, fella. The last man who offered me money to shower with him didn't walk straight for a week."

  "I was talking about your singing, not your aquatic sexual prowess." Dalton tossed the towel on the floor. One of the few good things about the motel was the maid service. The quality of the linen sucked, but it was freshly laundered and replaced daily.

  "My voice is average—at best. But thank you for the compliment." Colleen's smile turned into a frown as she attempted to finish drying herself. To say the ratty piece of cloth lacked absorbency put it mildly. Mostly, she ended up pushing the water from one part of her arm to another. "Tell me again why we ended up here instead of my place?"

  "Because you were half-asleep and this place was closer. When I asked if you had a preference, you mumbled something unintelligible. I didn't hear any complaints when I carried you in."

  To be fair, Colleen admitted silently, that sounded like her. Her brain wasn't at full speed when she needed sleep. However, as crappy as this place was, she liked the idea of Dalton carrying her to bed. She wished her memory wasn't quite so fuzzy. Holding a shoe in one hand, Colleen looked around the room. She hoped the other one wasn't under the bed because there was no way in hell she was putting her face within three feet of that carpet. Avoiding the cringe-worthy stains was hard enough while standing.

  "Do you want to get some breakfast?" Dalton inquired, handing her the missing sandal.

  Using Dalton's arm for balance, she had both shoes on in a flash. She knew it was a little too late, but she felt better with the barrier between her feet and the worn carpet that had seen better days.

  "I can't. There is a leaky oil pan waiting for me. Can you run me by my apartment before dropping me at the garage?"

  "No problem," Dalton said as he checked the messages on his phone. "Shit."

  "Did your sister call? Or Tolliver?"

  "Ryder. And Ashe." Dalton scrolled further down. "Ryder again. Zoe left a voicemail."

  "What the hell, you idiot? If Quinn hadn't talked him down, Ryder would have left for Wherever the Hell, Arizona hours ago. Call. Now!"

  "That seems a bit over the top," Colleen laughed. Then, her eyes widening, she had a sudden thought. "Are you and Zoe Hart—?"

  "Don't say it," Dalton quickly interjected. "Jesus, Colleen. I think of Zoe as a sister."

  "Okay."

  Colleen slowly combed her hair. It wasn't any of her business, but she couldn't help feeling…? Relieved? It was as good a word as any. She avoided other women's men like the plague. She was fine with acting as Dalton's small-town
fling, as long as he was free and clear. She would have been bitterly disappointed if he had turned her into something she abhorred. A cheat.

  "I know how it must sound, but I promised Ryder and the rest of them that I would keep in touch. When I didn't call last night—"

  "They are worried that you're in Midas. Alone."

  Dalton took the comb from Colleen, gently running it through her hair.

  "I'm not alone," he said, then kissed the end of her nose. "But they don't know that. I better call them back."

  Taking the comb from Dalton's outstretched hand, Colleen felt as though something monumental had occurred. I'm not alone. It was obvious from his casual kiss—on her nose, no less—that he had no idea what he had said. The import of those words. Or how they had affected her.

  Colleen put a hand on her stomach. The fluttering wasn't butterflies. This feeling wasn't nerves. It was different—and more. Then there was her heart. What was going on there? A slight tightening followed by some crazy, wild pounding. The last time she had felt anything close was when she put the final touch on her restored T-Bird. That had been pride and accomplishment. And hope for the future. Colleen's hand drifted up to where her heart tried to beat its way out of her chest. Whatever was going on, she wanted it to stop. Immediately. Before it was too late.

  "Are you okay?" Dalton frowned. "You're awfully pale."

  "How can you tell the difference?" Colleen quipped. Go for a laugh, she thought. Do not let Dalton know where your thoughts are wandering.

  Dalton laughed, as Colleen hoped he would. His reaction calmed her stomach and settled her heart into a reasonable rhythm. She would work on figuring everything out later when she was alone. Or perhaps she would pretend it never happened. Treat it as an anomaly. Brilliant! Colleen had never been a stick her head in the sand type, but right now seemed like the perfect time to temporarily leave her self-awareness in the rearview mirror.

  "Your complexion is creamy, not ghostlike." Eyes narrowed, Dalton lightly ran a finger over Colleen's cheek. "I didn't let you get a lot of sleep last night."