by Inez Kelley
She bent and plucked one stem, running the soft white down against her cheek. “I used to call these blow flowers. If I could blow off all the pods in one breath, my wish would come true.”
“Did it work?” He slid an arm around her waist, tugging her close as his voice lowered to an intimate whisper. “Did you ever get your wish?”
Heat captured by his shirt branded against her skin and his gaze caught hers. “Sometimes. One time I wished for Randy Simpson to kiss me and he did.”
The right side of his lip lifted in a secretive smile. “Why don’t you make a new wish?”
His focus never left her mouth as she brought the flower closer. She closed her eyes, blew out and made a wish. She wished for whatever was growing between them to last. She opened her eyes and frowned. One stubborn seedpod clung to the dandelion head. “Shit. So much for childhood magic, huh?”
“We can make our own magic.” His head dipped, a slow lick landing on her neck.
“Esperate un segundo, Houdini, hold your horses. How do you know my wish had anything to do with you?”
“Magic.” His chuckle vibrated against her skin. “I can read your mind.”
The tiny nibbles up to her ear made it hard to concentrate. No thoughts registered. His mouth was warm, his tongue slick as it teased across her lips. She loved the way he kissed. Slow and sweet creating a building need that gathered low in her belly and spread until every single cell in her body quivered.
Her hands slid up his arms, clinging to his shoulders. One hand gripped the back of his hair, fisting it and forcing his kiss to deepen. Powerful arms wrapped around her, fitting her to his body. One huge palm skimmed down her back, over her hips, and palmed her ass. It forced her hips tighter to his and she wantonly rocked into him. His soft moan flavored the kiss. The tall grasses bent, cushioning them as he lowered her to the ground.
Surrounded by a cocoon of lush, tall green, the passion that had been stymied in his kitchen exploded. She tore at the buttons on his shirt with far less grace than before. Jonah finished for her, sitting upright and ripping the half-buttoned shirt over his head. He covered her, wedging his legs between hers and fusing his mouth to hers. Tracing the long line of his spine, she held him close, reveling in the hard planes of his chest and the shifting muscles along his back.
Her questing mouth sank lower and her tongue delved into the hollow beneath his Adam’s apple. The salt on his skin was addictive and she lapped like a cat. The taste of his skin tingled her mouth, coaxing her to explore the line of his shoulder, his throat, his chest. Threading her fingers through his chest hair, she found and teased his nipples, delighted when goose bumps erupted along his shoulders. Her fingers trekked down his stomach, guided by that narrow rail of hair until they brushed his jeans.
This was where she’d stopped in his kitchen. That brief taste had whetted her appetite, and now she let her palm slide down until it cupped the hardness straining at his zipper.
Jonah sucked in a hissing breath, his head falling back. A growl tore from him and his mouth crashed onto hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. He cradled her breast in his palm, teasing the nipple through her top until it beaded tight. One hand slid to the center of her chest, silently waiting for permission. She gave it with a slow suck under his jaw. He unfastened her top and peeled it open, dragging his tongue along her neck and down along the cups of her bra. Her back arched, wanting more of the delicious torment.
The curve of her spine left room for his hand to curl under her and pop the hook of her bra. The straps and cups loosened. His mouth blazed a wet line along the upper curve of her left breast until he nuzzled the material down. He angled back with a grin.
“It’s a firefly.”
She’d gotten the tattoo as a graduation present. The cartoonish bug had heart-shaped green wings, long eyelashes and a bright yellow butt. It had been a silly way to keep the first time in West Virginia close to her heart. That very organ hammered now, wondering if Jonah would ever be as close as that bit of ink.
Jonah dropped his head and pressed a chaste kiss above the lightning bug. A slight tug dragged her bra straps down her arms and he tossed the scrap of cotton aside. Desire-hooded eyes gazed down at her, tracing over every inch of exposed skin.
She wasn’t very busty but his look of pure reverence made her feel beautiful. One long lean finger stroked along the bottom curve then moved higher, circling the budded nipple. He repeated the motion with his tongue, flicking out with just the tip. A noise broke from her lips, hunger surging, and he sealed his sucking mouth around the crest.
White lights popped behind her eyelids as she melted into his caress. The crisp hair on his chest tickled against her belly as he moved to the other breast, kissing, nibbling, sucking, drawing her deeper into a haze of lust.
When she couldn’t stand the sweet torture any more, she pulled him up, thrusting her hands into his hair and darting her tongue into his mouth. He was heavy but she delighted in the weighted friction of skin on skin. Her hands curved around his waist, dipping into the valley of his spine and filling her hands with his denim-covered ass. Between her thighs, his hips pressed, teasing her with a promise of more to come.
Jonah surged up, pushing straight up on his arms. His bare chest heaved and the front of his hair arched over his forehead. Reaching out, he plucked a fluffy white dandelion from beside her shoulder.
“Lie still.”
He dragged the down of the flower across her brow, skimming down her nose and feathering over her swollen lips. He didn’t use enough pressure to dislodge the tiny seedheads, and every touch was softer than a hint of velvet. It sensitized her feverish skin, ratcheting want higher. The white plume stroked along her jawline, down her neck, over the bow of her collarbone. It brushed along the swell of her breast, down the slope and around her nipple, damp from his mouth.
“My turn to make a wish.”
He dragged the flower top along her nipple, depositing little white fluffs along her skin. He blew, sending the white down scattering into the breeze. The shock of his cool breath wafting over her heated skin made her gasp. Warmth replaced the cool when he sucked the tip of her breast deep.
“Jonah,” she whispered.
A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Got my wish. I wanted to hear my name on your lips just like that, needing, wanting, aching.”
His hand smoothed down her stomach to her waist and lower. It delved between her legs. Zury clamped her thighs shut, trapping his hand. “Jonah, stop.”
Disappointment crashed his brows low and he buried his face in the curve of her neck with a groan. “You’re going to kill me, darlin’.”
“Not up here. They’d find your body in no time.”
He rolled to his back at her side with a sigh, laying his forearm across his eyes. “I can see it now. Man discovered stiff in wildflower field. Cause of death attributed to blue balls. Film at eleven.”
She giggled and leaned over him. “Poor Slick, I knew him well. He expired from severe sexual frustration.”
“Seems fitting. You’ve frustrated me since the day I met you.”
* * *
Lover’s Leap was naturally blocked off, guarded by boulders the size of houses. A narrow opening led out onto the flattened rock. Zury paused, peering through the gap. It was dark, protected from any sunlight, but a golden light sparkled less than five feet away. Between the rocks was cool but she didn’t linger, stepping boldly onto the rock protrusion.
“¡Santo Dios!”
She felt like Dorothy getting the first glimpse of Oz. The landscape was nearly in Technicolor. Hills and dales thick with leafy green trees and lighter patches of celery meadows butted against farmlands, homesteads and a winding river. Brisk wind shot through her hair, rippling it away from her face and cooling the sweat along her brow. Although there were higher peaks in West Virginia
, Lover’s Leap claimed the title in this spot and ruled over an entire valley.
Standing just outside the opening, Zury rested her hand on another large rock. Several littered the precipice, the smallest one the height of her waist. “You can see for miles.”
“Yep. Want to go closer to the edge?”
She shot him a teasing smile. “Sure you didn’t bring me up here to throw me off?”
“I want in your pants too bad to get rid of you now.”
Chuckling, she stepped away from the security of the boulders onto the flat stretch of ancient rock. It protruded like a hitchhiking thumb off a giant fist and, although she was perfectly safe, the drop-off loomed menacingly close. She inched forward until she stood barely three feet from the edge. Without the mountain peaks as a buffer, wind battered her, stinging her face and arms. It dried her eyes and stole the moisture from her lips. The view made it worthwhile.
“It’s amazing.”
Jonah wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. “According to legend, during the Civil War a young soldier and his girl used to sneak away and meet up here. Her family was Union and his wasn’t, but they loved each other anyway. She promised to wait for him until after the war was over, then they would run away together, head out west and never be parted again. She came here every day, looking for him to ride across the mountains and come to claim her.”
Unable to close her eyes, Zury let them wander over every nook and cranny of the view. A bittersweet smile lifted her mouth when she realized she was trying to see a gray uniform riding through the trees.
“News was hard to get then, but every time word came of a battle, she ran to this spot and wept, watching for her lover. She waited a year, two, never giving up hope. Then word came that he’d been killed in the Battle of Cold Harbor. Her heart broke. She ran here, letting her tears free and crying his name into the wind.”
A shaky breath raised her chest. “She jumped, didn’t she?”
“Maybe. Some say she finally saw him, bathed in white light. He came for her in death as he couldn’t in life. He held out his hand and she took it. He led her off the rocks and together, they headed west, carried by the wind. Her body was found below with a smile on her face.”
“Why are legends always so sad?”
His lips traced along her temple. “Don’t know. Maybe the scars left by the pain are all that remain after so many years.”
A hawk soared in the distance, crossing the cloud-streaked sky. She fixed her eyes on it, on the effortless flight that seemed almost like a dance. Scars. She wondered about the faint scar on his shoulder. She’d looked for the word SIN in the full sunlight as they played in the creek but only caught the edges of a faint S and an I. What had carved that mark into his skin? They hadn’t looked like cuts. The edges weren’t precise enough for that. It wasn’t a burn. But whatever it had been, it had to have hurt.
She’d never suffered a hurt bad enough to leave a mark for years and couldn’t imagine someone deliberately inflicting such a pain. But someone had. Knowing that his father had been a minister gave her a good idea of who that someone had been.
Against her spine, his chest rose. “A year ago, part of this valley was harvested. Hundreds of trees were removed, roads were cut into the ground, and machinery filled the forests. Can you tell which section was cut?”
Forcing her mind to function after his tale and her realization took effort. She narrowed her eyes and studied the landscape, looking for clues. She could see roads, but most of them had been there for ages. Many were asphalt, and vehicles moved along them like tiny toys on a plastic track. She could see gaps in the trees but couldn’t tell if they were from cutting or nature-made. The roofs of houses and barns dotted the hills like Monopoly pieces on a huge earthen board. The river meandered along the far edge of the valley to disappear into the green.
“I can’t tell from up here.”
He pointed to the right. “See that house? The one with the greenhouses behind it? That’s Matt and Kayla’s place. Over one hundred and fifty acres around it were logged about twelve months ago. Nature heals a lot faster than flesh. It comes back stronger and healthier. Trust Hawkins to do the right thing. The Canyon will change but it won’t disappear. It won’t suffer.”
Part of her resistance crumbled. Looking out over the expanse of abundant and thriving forests, she had to struggle to remember why she was fighting him.
“What about the closer view, where the Falls land borders Hawkins land?”
His arms fell away. He squatted, his jaw working back and forth. Wind streamed through his hair and plastered his shirt to his chest. “What if...what if I sell Webb on the idea of leaving a barrier, say fifty feet between any cut lines and Falls property?”
“Can you do that?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. It’s not that many trees but would insulate the Falls a little more from the logging crews.”
“That’d be a start. But the harvesting would still be visible on the mountainsides, especially on the north faces, and that’s our best scenic views.”
“Let me talk to Webb. There’s a compromise somewhere. I just have to find it. I will find it, Zury. I swear.”
She went to her knees beside him, rock digging into her jeans, and laid her hand on his forearm. “I know you’re trying and I appreciate it. I do. I don’t want to cause problems. I just want to preserve as much of this as I can. Someone has to, Jonah.”
He dragged one knuckle along her cheek. “Believe it or not, I agree with you. Trust me, okay? I’ll do everything in my power to make sure the visual impact to the Falls is as minimal as can be.”
Leaning her face into his palm, she pinched her eyes closed. Trust him. She wanted to. She wanted to believe he had enough control to protect her park and the surrounding area, but the bitter truth was he could only do what his company dictated.
He stood first, and when she rose, he wrapped his arms around her, dropping his lips to her temple. Burying her nose in his chest, she inhaled. Would she ever smell summer and not think of Jonah?
“We better head down or we’ll be too late for the restaurant.” As if it understood his words, her stomach growled. Wind snatched his laugh away. “Let’s go.”
They only made it about four steps when a menacing rattle froze them in their tracks.
“Jo—”
“Quiet.” His tense whisper sent a chill over her.
The rattle sounded again. Wildly, she looked around, then clamped her lips to stop the scream. Coiled less than a foot from them on one of the huge rocks, a timber rattlesnake shook its tail, its head raised and tongue flicking in warning. Panic seized her muscles, and goose bumps erupted along her arms. They were trapped on the cliff top, the only escape blocked by an angry rattler.
“Zury.” Barely audible, Jonah’s voice was composed. “Where’s your gun?”
“Back in the jeep.”
His dark brows dropped in irritation. “That’s a good place for it.”
“Did you really expect me to carry my handbag on a hike?” Wait, were they arguing beside a deadly rattlesnake? “We need to move away.”
“The only way down is past the snake. So unless you can fly...”
“Then how—”
“Stay behind me.”
“What? ¿Tú estás loco?”
“Crazy? Probably.” A swallow made his Adam’s apple jump. “Get behind me.”
Zury plastered herself to his back, her nails digging into the waistband of his jeans. Her heart jackhammered against her ribs and, beneath her breastbone, his pounded just as hard. Jonah led them closer to the opening inch by excruciating inch. He held his right hand out as if it would shield them from the snake. Beady reptilian eyes watched their every move.
There was a fatal beauty in the alternating crossbands of brown-keeled scales gl
eaming in the sunshine. But fewer than twelve inches of air separated that poisonous mouth from Jonah’s hand. The fangs hadn’t dropped yet but they would before it struck. They’d drop so fast the human eye wouldn’t be able to see or react to it.
Zury was shaking so hard it was difficult to move, and she came to a complete stop.
“You’re doing fine. A few more steps.”
The calm in his voice gave her strength. Forcing her feet to move, she shuffled with him closer to the opening.
“Listen to me, Zury.”
It took Jonah whispering her name three times before she could focus. “Listening.”
“I’m going to stay between the snake and you. When I tell you to run, do it.”
“No!”
Her screech brought a louder, faster rattle.
“It’ll be all right. Just run through the opening when I say.”
She couldn’t unlock her gaze from the rattler. Its yellow elliptical eyes never blinked, although its triangular head swayed, forked tongue tasting the air in preparation for a strike.
Their feet scuffed as her mind raced. Wildlife training was standard at Black Cherry Falls. Timber rattlers normally avoided people but would strike if provoked. They preferred the damper foliage of the forests. This snake most likely was a pregnant female, sunning herself in preparation for birth. She’d give a good show, rattling and posturing for a while, but her temper was short. And the venom in her fangs was lethal.
Despite the deadly viper in front of him, Jonah made no sudden moves. His shoulders were stiff and his spine straight but his left hand hung loosely at his side, his right reaching toward the flickering tongue.
“Whatever happens, do not scream.” Jonah shifted, sliding them a half inch closer to the boulder and walking them nearer the passageway. The rattle grew faster, more foreboding.
“Zury,” he whispered. “Now. Go.”
Prying her fingers off his hips, she sprinted through the narrow rock corridor. Once on the other side, she spun around, chest heaving and mouth dry. Jonah and the snake were framed by the rock. Mere inches separated them. The viper’s head swayed as if hypnotized but its tail never ceased moving.
