“Would you guys like to go to a restaurant this evening?” Kim asked, starting the van and tearing out of the dirt driveway.
“I’m kind of tired and want to go to the lodge,” I said. Why hadn’t I told them about Mitch coming? I knew everyone would be thrilled . . . except maybe Rich. I was sure he had a little crush on me and if I was being honest, I had a little crush on him too . . . Not in a physical way, God forbid. The thought of that was . . . it was, um, wrong on every level and to be blunt, gross. But I liked him and admired him and loved spending time with him. He would be my friend for a long time . . . I could feel it.
“I’d like to get back too,” Rich agreed. “It’s been a long day.”
“Do we need to dissect the data?” Mrs. C asked. “The situation is unstable and I don’t like not knowing what the fuck is going on.”
“It’s like going into the jungle blind,” Edith added. “You can get ambushed and strung up in a tree. Then some little swamp-ass bastard will come up and carve out your innards and feed you your entrails while he sings nursery rhymes.”
Where in the fucking hell did that come from?
“We have to wait for the information from Aunt Moon-Unit,” Boo said, cringing at the imagery that Edith had provided.
We rode in silence for a while. Kim’s driving was less erratic, thank you, Jesus. Hugh, never one to miss an opportunity, filled the silence with a classical piece of unknown origin. Due to the many key changes, I was guessing it was an original. As awful as it was, it was beautiful. Hugh was solid and kind, a genuinely happy person. I envied him and Kim. As kooky as they were, they had gotten it right.
“What did you learn when you touched Stuey?” Kim asked Boo. I’d almost forgotten about that . . .
“Nothing specific,” she said, frustration clear in her voice, “but he is very excited and angry. He’s anticipating something, but his thoughts are so tangled, it’s difficult to guess. Lots of visions of Heidi’s boobs though.”
“That girl has no shame, walking around looking like a cheap hooker,” Edith said. “I can’t figure her out. I thought for a while she was already acquainted with the shiny fucks, but now I don’t believe that.”
“You think she has her own agenda for Sasquatch?” Hugh asked, pausing the concert.
“I definitely think she and her overexposed watermelons have an agenda, but I’m not sure if it has anything to do with Yeti.” Mrs. C shook her head with disgust.
“Mexican?” Kim called out to the van.
She was greeted by moaning and a chorus of yeses. I even considered ordering tacos after swearing I would never eat them again because of the vagina diatribe. As if sensing my hesitation, Edith decided to help me out.
“Do you want me to wipe the love taco from your mind?” she inquired.
How in the hell did everybody know what I was thinking? Was I that readable? “Will it destroy any other cuisine for me?” I shuddered at the thought of her ruining Italian or Japanese food too.
“Nah,” she laughed. “Sometimes by layering in visuals on top of visuals, you can train the brain to accept only the ones you can tolerate.”
WTF? That sounded like some intense therapyspeak or some self-preservation tactics for times of war . . . She constantly surprised me.
“Do you want help or not?”
“Sure, I guess,” I said, already regretting my answer.
“Close your eyes and listen carefully,” she whispered.
I nodded my head and shifted slightly so I was out of her line of spit.
“Front butt . . . pee pot . . . num-num . . . sugar bowl.”
Well, that did it. I was able to order tacos and I would never put sugar in my coffee again. Thank you, Edith.
Chapter 30
After a much-needed shower and about twenty minutes of primping, I sat down on my lumpy bed and waited . . . and waited. Me and waiting were not good buddies. My mind tended to go places that were as ridiculous as they were unimaginable.
Thanking my lucky stars that my hangover had finally disappeared, I refolded all the clothes in my drawers. Crap, I was going to have to do laundry soon. I was getting down to the last of my panties and I was not one of those earthy gals who could turn them inside out and wear them a second time. I vaguely recalled Hugh saying there were washers, dryers, and a detergent vending machine around the side of the building. Maybe I would throw a load in now and get it out later . . . Yep, that’s what I would do. If I sat there and did nothing I would imagine Mitch laid up in a hospital somewhere at the least, and dead at the worst.
I quickly scooped up all my panties, jeans, and T-shirts and threw them into a bag. If I were at home I wouldn’t have even considered mixing colors in the wash, but I wasn’t at home and I was running out of clothes. I didn’t think searching for Sasquatch in my pj’s was a good idea.
I stepped out of my little room and into the twilight zone.
“If I do a back handspring, you’ll owe me three hundred dollars, you old dyke,” Edith yelled at Mrs. C.
“I said standing backflip, heifer,” Mrs. C. countered while walking on her hands across the parking lot. WTF?
“Um . . . What are you guys doing?” I asked. I was not taking either of them to the emergency room later. I had a rendezvous.
“Getting in shape to kick some ass.” Edith grinned.
“Were you guys in the circus?” That had to be it. It didn’t explain all of their strange behavior, but . . .
They cackled like I was a brilliant stand-up comedian. I rocked back and forth on my feet, watching them and hoped they didn’t have strokes from their uproarious laugh attack. “Yeah,” Edith gurgled, trying to get a grip. “You could call it a circus.”
Clearly they hadn’t been in the circus, but I knew they weren’t going to come clean on their past.
“Where are you going?” Mrs. C asked. She now had her leg wrapped up around her neck. She looked like a human pretzel.
It took a moment before I could form words. “Laundry,” I sputtered.
“Want to do ours too?” she asked.
“Nope,” I said, looking away. I was having a painful visceral reaction to her inhuman position.
“What if I do a toe touch?” Edith offered.
“Like jump in the air and touch your toes?” I asked, mortified.
“Yep.” She nodded proudly and started stretching out.
I considered it for a brief moment and then realized the image of Edith splayed spread eagle in the air would live with me forever.
“I’ll pass,” I said as politely as I could.
“Your loss,” she grunted as she continued her workout.
I had nothing to say that wouldn’t sound snarky, so I nodded and headed for the machines. Maybe Kim knew their backgrounds. I’d have to ask.
The washing machine was right where Hugh had said it would be and I was surprised at how clean it was. The Paul Bunyan Lodge and Getaway Resort might be ugly, but at least it was sanitary. I did find it rather odd that we were the only guests, but with the economy what it was, I guessed that folks weren’t vacationing as much this summer.
I wandered around the back of the building. I peeked around for anything interesting that might have captured Stuey’s attention. He always came from back there every morning. Holy hell, I was getting paranoid. I was on a reality show shoot not a stakeout.
I took a deep breath of fresh air, pushed my overactive imagination into the far corner of my brain, and admired the majestic forest that surrounded the lodge. I’d forgotten to notice the natural beauty around me with all the craziness going on. Minnesota wilderness was like no other. It had a quiet, stoic beauty . . . kind of like the people here. I glanced around one last time, making sure I hadn’t missed anything, and then hurried back to my room.
I rounded the corner of the building and my heart lodged in my throat. Thankfully the old lesbos were gone because Mitch was standing outside my room. He was leaning against the building in his jeans, T-shirt, and rocki
n’-hot motorcycle boots. He hadn’t noticed me, so I was able to admire from a distance. God, no man had the right to be as beautiful as he was.
I felt shaky and short of breath. What in the hell was wrong with me? I should be happy he was here, but all I felt was relief he wasn’t dead. Was this how it was going to be? What happened to the “I’ll take him when I can have him” scenario? Would I spend the rest of my life worried that he’d never come back and I’d never know why? I almost turned and ran like a coward, but he seemed to feel me and turned to stare.
A slow sexy smile spread across his handsome face and I grabbed the side of the building so I didn’t fall to the ground. Every doubt I had evaporated. What kind of magic sauce was that boy working? And why did he have such an effect on me?
He crooked his finger, silently instructing me to come to him. No problem there. I’d have to be chained to a wall to be able to resist him. Although I was slightly off about there being no problem. My knees were a quivering mess and I needed the walls and doorknobs of the rooms I passed to hold me upright. I had a fleeting thought I might appear drunk, but there was nothing to do about it. It was wobble or fall. I chose wobble.
“Hi, Kristy.” He grinned, pulling on my still-damp curls. “I’ve come to pick you up for a date.”
“A date?” I looked around the parking lot for his car but only saw the vehicles from our group. “Where’s your car?” I asked in a voice that sounded a little phone-sex-operator-ish even to my own ears.
“Don’t have one.” Those crazy-hot blue eyes roved all over my body. Somehow they had the same effect as his hands would have. Heat suffused me and I found myself involuntarily leaning into him. “God, Kristy, if you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’m going to break down your door and cuff you to your bed.”
“Promise?” I grinned and ran my fingers lightly over his lips.
He groaned and shoved me up against my door. He crushed my mouth with his and my insides exploded into a happy dance. I wrapped my arms around his neck and laced my hands into his thick hair. Damn, he could kiss and he tasted like heaven.
“Okay,” he whispered against my lips. “I’m going to do this right. I don’t want you to think I’m just showing up for a booty call.”
“You mean I’m not gonna get any booty?” I pouted and ran my tongue over his bottom lip. I slid my hands from his hair and trailed them down his broad shoulders to his chest.
He looked up to the sky and groaned. “If you don’t remove your hands right now, there is a fine chance we’ll be arrested for lewd public behavior.”
I giggled and gave his perfect man-butt a squeeze before I stepped away. It did tingly things to my girlie parts to know I made him feel the same way he made me feel.
Holding me at arm’s length, he gave me a devastating lopsided grin. “I am taking you out for a drink and then I am taking you back here to explore the various and sundry uses for handcuffs.”
“That got us into a little trouble before,” I said, backing away from him. A wave of excitement coursed through me and my breathing felt funny.
He narrowed his eyes and watched my retreat with interest. “You do realize you are challenging me right now.”
“Yep,” I said softly, backing away some more. His predator’s instinct was so fine tuned, I could feel it, and it made the party in my panties ratchet up a few notches.
“You sure you want to do that?” he asked silkily, adjusting his stance.
“Yep,” I said flippantly. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest, I was sure he could hear it. I very slowly backed up a few more steps, my eyes never leaving his. He might know how to push my buttons, but I was having a hell of a good time learning how to push his.
I glanced quickly to my right, wondering if I could make it to Paul Bunyan before he could catch me. If I could get that far, there was a good chance I could fend him off. Of course, fending him off wasn’t really my goal . . . but the game was hot. The morning glory growth around Paul’s ginormous legs made it impossible for Mitch to take a shortcut through the middle to corner me.
I stared at the ground for a moment and waited for his body to relax. I needed him to think I’d given up. I saw a slight shift in his body from the corner of my eye . . . and I ran. I ran like the devil was after me. And he was. The hot sexy one with killer eyes and an ass to match.
I shrieked as I felt him on my heels. His laugh made me giggle. I reached Paul, grabbed onto his huge red leg, and held on for all I was worth. So much for thinking I could outrun Mitch . . .
He buried his face in my hair and wrapped his arms around my waist. I could feel his uneven breathing against my cheek and his very happy camper grinding into my bottom. He tried to wriggle me off Paul’s leg, but I held fast.
“Do you want to be spanked or tickled?” he whispered into my ear, clasping my body tightly to his.
“Neither,” I gasped. “At least not out here.”
“Well, then, how about this?” His hands slid from my waist to my breasts. He cupped them in his big hands and gently squeezed, sending chills through me. I felt drugged, my body was tingly and sluggish. I knew I would let him do anything he wanted to, happily, but . . .
“Mitch, we should stop,” I told him, pressing my breasts more fully into his hands.
“Because um . . . wait, I can’t remember why we have to stop.”
“Possibly because we’re outside in front of your hotel and anyone could see us?”
“That works,” I laughed. I let go of Paul and relaxed into Mitch’s embrace. My head fit perfectly in the hollow between his shoulder and his neck.
“Come on, pretty girl, let me take you out.”
“There’s nothing really within walking distance,” I told him, wondering how he’d gotten here without a car. He took my hand in his and gently pulled me over to the check-in area of the hotel. I’d been here a week and hadn’t even set foot on this side of the lodge.
“Are we calling a cab?” I asked, loving the feel of his warm calloused hand.
“Nope.” He gave me a quick kiss. My heart fluttered and I almost tripped over the huge motorcycle that popped up from out of nowhere.
“Shit,” I muttered, trying to regain my balance. Mitch steadied me and copped a major feel of my ass at the same time.
“Hop on, Goldilocks. I’m going to take you for a ride you won’t forget.”
If that wasn’t the understatement of the century, I didn’t know what was . . .
Rose and Popo’s was rockin’ when we walked in. I couldn’t believe this was where he’d taken me. I said a silent prayer that I wouldn’t be recognized . . . we had been banned from the place. Well, the rest of my group had. I’d actually been outside with Rich when all the ugly went down.
“What would you like?” Mitch asked, guiding me to the bar.
You. Naked. Every part of my body was hyperaware of him. I could feel the heat of his hand on my back through the thin material of my shirt and it made me want to jump him. Bad. “Um, a beer, please.”
“Coming right up,” he said and covertly grabbed my ass.
I watched with amusement at first and then jealousy after a few minutes. Waitresses and random women were literally falling over themselves to get close to him. All boobs and big white smiles. He was pretty, but this was ridiculous. He belonged to me. To be fair, he didn’t encourage any of it, but it still made me want to bitch slap about thirteen overzealous women. He was mine and I was going to prove it.
Shoving one particularly busty blonde aggressor out of the way, I grabbed Mitch by the collar of his T-shirt, pulled him down to me, and laid on one of the hottest, most obnoxious kisses I’d ever given anyone. It backfired just a little when I had to grab a rotund bald man for balance because I practically blacked out.
“Sit,” Mitch said, extracting me from my new bald paramour and leading me to a table. “What was that?”
I wanted to slap the smug grin off his face. I was embarrassed and felt out of control. I realized
how little I knew of the man sitting in front of me. He was a rock star in the sack and he was funny and kind and I’d already imagined my life with him, but how would I be able to trust that, when he was away from me, he would still be mine?
“I don’t know you,” I muttered. “And now I feel embarrassed and stupid because I wanted to deck the boobie blonde and so I . . .” I trailed off and just wanted to leave.
“And so you?” He reached across the table and took my hand.
Dang it, I couldn’t think when he touched me. “Mitch, I keep thinking I can do this and then I don’t know if I can,” I sighed. “I don’t normally want to attack random women.” I winced and tried to pull my hand back, but he held it fast.
“I liked it.”
“You liked it?” I used my free hand to rearrange everything and anything I could find on the table.
“Look at me,” he said quietly.
I raised my eyes to his and got sucked back into the place I wanted to be.
“I like that you want to claim me, because God knows I want to rip the heads off half the men in this bar.”
I wrinkled my nose and giggled. “You do?”
“Yep,” he said, taking my other hand. I wasn’t sure if he needed to touch me or needed me to stop alphabetizing the sugar packets. “I don’t like other men ogling what’s mine.”
“God, we’re a pair,” I laughed.
“Kristy, you do know me and I know you.”
“Mitch,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t know if we have a foundation strong enough to rock as hard as we’re going to.”
“I believe we do.” He let go of the alphabetizing hand and sank his free hand into my hair.
“Can I tell you some things?” I asked, leaning my head into his hand.
“Please do.”
“I have some trust issues.” I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his hand in my hair and continued. “My dad disappeared when I was young and I haven’t gotten a male-female relationship right since. I thought I wanted what I never had . . . you know, a husband who came home every night and a white picket fence and two point five children, but . . .”
Size Matters (Handcuffs and Happily Ever Afters) Page 25
