by Freya Barker
“I’ll be fine,” I tell Nathan with more confidence than I feel.
I have half an hour before the kids come off the bus, so the moment I get home; I dart upstairs for a quick shower.
I pull a shower cap over my head before I hop under the stream. This is one of the luxuries I most missed while working in the field: water pressure. Sure, we had showers, but often those would be no more than a rainwater cistern, a simple pulley system, and gravity.
Wrapped in a towel, I wipe the condensation from the bathroom mirror, pull off the shower cap, and watch my dreadlocks bounce free. I take a moment to study my reflection. The familiar face starting to show some of the strain of the past months. The olive skin already a shade or two lighter than when I arrived. My eyes land on my dreads.
For some reason, they look out of place, even though they’ve been part of me for many years. A symbol of my independent and adventurous spirit. They were rarely given a second glance until I came home. Here they’re looked at as an oddity, not so much a symbol of independence as one of nonconformity. It sets me apart in a way that almost underlines people’s opinion of me.
I pull open the top drawer of the vanity and pull out a pair of scissors. I only hesitate for a second before I firmly grab one of my dreads and cut half of it off.
“What the fuck?” I jump at Rafe’s bark and promptly drop the scissors that clatter in the sink. “What are you doing?”
He’s standing in the door opening looking murderous. I’m not sure what reaction I thought I’d get, but anger wasn’t it. It’s unexpected.
“Cutting my hair,” I announce much calmer than I feel. With a slightly shaky hand I reach for the scissors.
“Like hell you are.” He’s almost growling as he makes a grab for my wrist, twisting the scissors from my hold with his other hand.
“My hair, my decision.” I lift my chin defiantly.
“Why?” The question is asked in a much softer tone and momentarily throws me. “Taz?” he prompts, “Why would you do that?”
“They don’t fit here,” I finally concede, shrugging my shoulders. “It throws people off.”
“Fuck people.” He takes a step closer and picks a lock off my shoulder, rubbing it between his fingers. I’m suddenly very aware of the fact I’m standing here buck naked but for a flimsy towel. “They suit you. They’re a part of you. Since when do you care what others think?”
Even if I had a response to that, I wouldn’t be able to answer him. Not with his mouth just inches from mine. All I can do is watch his clear blue eyes go dark as the night, when his lips close over mine.
Rafe
She tastes like she looks.
Like spice, sunlight, and pure honey.
My arm wraps around the small of her back, pulling her body into mine. Kissing Taz is like diving in a cool stream after a long, hot day.
Refreshing, free, unbridled, and all-consuming.
Every nerve end is vibrating as her fingers slide into my hair.
Her body suddenly freezes as the sound of a horn penetrates my awareness.
“The bus,” she hisses, as she rips her mouth from mine.
“Shit. The kids.”
“Go.” Taz almost shoves me out of the bathroom, closing the door in my face.
I’m out of breath by the time I reach the waiting school bus and mumble my apologies when the driver shoots me an annoyed look.
“Sorry, guys,” I tell the kids when they come off the bus. Spencer seems happy to see me, but Sofie is not pleased and darts past me, heading up the driveway.
“Mrs. Ryan says we only have seven more days of school.” My son grabs my hand and skips beside me, chattering away.
“Aren’t you gonna miss school?”
“No, because Mrs. Ryan says we’re coming back after the summer.”
My son is pretty easygoing, generally happy, and obviously enamored with his kindergarten teacher. I’m actually surprised at how well he seems to be adjusting, other than the occasional bad dream during the night.
My little girl, on the other hand, appears to be struggling and I’m not sure how to help her. I watch as she disappears inside the house and hope Taz had enough time to get some clothes on.
Fuck me. Just the thought of her, soft and naked against me, her lips hot under mine.
I’d come home a little early, hoping I could catch her before she started on dinner and found her upstairs hacking at her hair instead. It pissed me off. Why in hell she would suddenly want to get rid of something that’s so uniquely her? I have no idea. The implication she was doing it to better blend in hit me hard. I may well have been a contributing factor, but that would end right then and there.
So I kissed her.
No doubt in my mind while my mouth was on hers, but seeing Sofie’s closed-off face is a sobering dose of reality. We need to keep whatever is happening between Taz and me between us for now. We’ll have to be discreet because there’s no way in hell I’ll be able to shove that particular genie back in its bottle. Not after tasting her.
I almost trip over the schoolbag Spencer tosses in front of my feet when I walk in the door. Before I have a chance to call him on it, he throws himself on the living room floor where Sofie is already playing with the dogs. Neither pays me any attention, so I head straight for the kitchen. There I find Taz with her head in the fridge, her jeans-covered ass sticking out, making for an enticing picture.
“Hey.”
I realize my mistake too late as I see her body jerk and hear a distinct thud.
“Shit.” She backs out of the fridge rubbing the back of her head where she must’ve banged it.
“Let me see.” I immediately close the distance and start probing her scalp, but she bats my hands away.
“Stop. I’m fine. I have a hard head.” She shuts the fridge and turns to face me, not quite looking me in the eye. “I was trying to find something to make for dinner.”
“About that. I was going to suggest we take the kids to that Mexican place on the north side of town. Dos Rios?”
“Mexican?” Her face lights up. “Since when is there a Mexican restaurant in Eminence?”
“Not sure. I think it opened maybe five, six years ago.”
“Do they serve margaritas?” she asks wearing a grin. “I haven’t had a good margarita in forever.”
“Pretty sure they do.”
“Then I’m game. Should I change?” She looks down at the worn bib overalls and faded T-shirt she’s wearing.
“No,” I assure her, thinking of the Western saloon-style log building that houses the restaurant. The inside is colorful but with utilitarian furniture, which makes it a great place to eat with the kids. There’s nothing to break. “It’s nothing fancy, but the food is excellent. The kids love it. It’ll give us an opportunity to talk to them.”
“About?” The smile on her face is replaced with a look of concern.
“Relax. I mean summer vacation. I got a call from Mom this afternoon. Apparently Dad is responding well to the new meds, and they’re talking about taking the RV down to your cousin’s farm in Kentucky. They want to take the kids.”
“For how long?”
“She’s not sure, but she thinks maybe ten days, depending how the kids do being away from home.”
“What do you think?” she asks carefully. “It’s ultimately your decision.”
“I think if the kids want to go, it might be good for them. Fun, even. Your cousin has kids only a little older than Sofie, and there’s tons to do there for them.”
I considered Sofie, hoping some time away from the everyday reminders might help her. I won’t share the next thought I had was the time alone it would give me with Taz.
“When would they go?”
I fight to keep the grin off my face when I answer, “The weekend after next.”
Chapter Fifteen
Taz
It’s surprising how many people are out and about on a weeknight for such a small town. You won’t see t
hat many come July or August, they’ll all be hiding out inside. Eminence has the reputation being the hottest place in Missouri during those months.
The quaint little restaurant looks like something from the early settler days. A simple log façade, Dos Rios painted over the entrance with hitching posts on either side, makes it feel like we stepped through a time warp.
The kids aim straight for a booth opening up by the window and I follow behind, feeling the brush of Rafe’s hand in the small of my back. Already, in the few hours since he scorched me with that kiss, he’s found more reasons to touch me than in the previous months. It both excites and terrifies me. Especially with the many curious heads in the busy restaurant turning to watch our entrance.
I try to beat Spencer to the seat next to his sister, but I’m too slow and therefore relegated to the window seat on the opposite side of the booth. Rafe seems pleased as he slides in beside me, effectively boxing me in.
“A margarita, please,” I order, when the waitress stops by the table for our order of drinks. I’m not normally a big drinker but I have a feeling I’m going to need the reinforcements tonight. When she leaves us with the menus and toddles off to fetch our drinks, I cautiously peek around Rafe’s bulk to take in the restaurant before quickly averting my eyes to study the menu. As I feared, we seem to be drawing quite a bit of attention.
“Thirsty?” Rafe mutters under his breath, when I gulp down half my drink the moment the waitress sets it in front of me and turns to the kids to take their orders.
I ignore him and in as even a voice as I can manage, with his leg pressing against mine under the table, I place my order of enchiladas rojos.
Looking across the table at Sofie, I’m pleased to note she seems a little more animated tonight.
“I’m starving,” Spencer announces dramatically.
“They have to cook the food first, dummy,” his sister educates him.
“No name-calling, Pipsqueak,” Rafe quickly intervenes. “While we wait for dinner, we have summer vacation to discuss anyway.”
Sofie’s eyes dart between her father and me with worried anticipation.
“Not camp,” I reassure her.
“No,” Rafe confirms. “I think this’ll be more fun than that. Grandma and Grandpa are going on a little road trip to Kentucky with the RV, and they’d love for you guys to come with them.”
“Yay! Do we get to sleep in the RV?”
“I think that’s the plan, Spencer,” I contribute with a grin at his enthusiasm. Sofie, on the other hand, is not so easy to please.
“What’s in Kentucky?” She aims the question at me.
“A farm. We have a cousin who owns a horse farm there. He also has kids about your age.”
“Dad, have we ever been to Kentucky?” Spencer asks.
“We’ve never been anywhere,” Sofie bumbles under her breath.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by Rafe and he immediately has an answer ready. “You’re right, which is why this is going to be a great trip.”
“Kentucky is very pretty,” I add.
“And we get to sleep in the RV!” It’s pretty clear Spencer is on board. “Auntie Taz, do they got dogs?”
Before I have a chance to answer, Sofie announces, “We can’t go. Who’s going to look after Lilo and Stitch?”
“Your aunt and I will,” her father says firmly, as the waitress walks up with our plates.
Rafe is right; the food is amazing.
During dinner it’s mostly Spencer doing the talking. He needs to be reminded a few times not to talk with his mouth full, but it’s obvious his excitement is slowly rubbing off on his sister.
My delicious drink, the excellent food, and the general good mood at the table has me finally relaxing in my seat. The rest of the restaurant simply fades into the background.
“I hope you don’t mind…” My head snaps up to find none other than Sheila Mantle—I mean Quinn—standing beside our table, a predatory gleam in her eyes. “…for interrupting your cozy family gathering. I simply had to come say hello.”
Notwithstanding her toothy smile, I can virtually see the venom dripping from her mouth. Simply had to my ass. I didn’t trust her in high school when she was leading not only the cheering squad, but also the snarling pack of Eminence High’s own mean girls, and I certainly don’t trust her now. I’m pretty sure she’s never forgiven me for adding Nair to the conditioner in her locker after she had my sister kicked out of cheerleading when I was fourteen.
I never had any interest in it myself, but Nicky had worked hard to make the senior team. It hadn’t taken my sister long to catch the eye of Brady Quinn, quarterback for our school football team and object of Sheila’s obsession. Sheila, not pleased with this development, had launched a campaign to discredit poor Nicky, who ended up getting caught with a baggie of pot in her locker and was promptly dismissed from the team.
It didn’t take much for me to figure out who had been responsible. High school seniors don’t tend to pay much attention to gangly fourteen-year-old girls, which is how I was able to overhear them talking in the girls’ bathroom, confirming what I already suspected.
I’d been found out and suspended for the Nair incident. The first serious mark on my ‘rap sheet’ I owed to this snake.
I carefully retract my claws and instead smile my brightest smile. “Sheila, how lovely of you. I’m sure you’ve met Rafe? Rafe, this is—”
“Mrs. Quinn,” he finishes, grinding his teeth.
“Oh, don’t be silly. It’s Sheila, remember?” she titters, and my eyes almost roll out of my head. “Nicky was on the parent-teacher board with me. We were the best of friends in high school.”
The poor kids, clearly picking up on the weird vibes around the table, are suddenly subdued at the mention of their mother. Their eyes furtively bounce from one to the other as their father mumbles something unidentifiable.
“Sheila.” An impatient voice sounds behind her, and I almost burst out laughing when I see the podgy, balding man appear behind her. Time has not been kind to Brady Quinn, who looks more like a tired, middle-aged car salesman than the fit, handsome jock he once was. “Let them eat their meal in peace, will ya?”
The smiling teeth disappear, replaced by thin lips pressed into a tight line. Two deep red spots form on Sheila’s cheeks as she swings around. “I’m paying my respects,” she hisses at her husband, who looks exasperated.
“Funeral woulda been a good place for that, not a family restaurant. Now let’s go.” He takes her arm and nods at Rafe. “Enjoy your meal.”
“She was Mommy’s friend?” Sofie asks incredulously, when all four of us watch through the window as Sheila angrily waves her hands in her husband’s face after being virtually dragged out to the parking lot.
“No, she wasn’t,” I state firmly, drawing a raised eyebrow from Rafe. “Well, she wasn’t. Your mom was much too sweet to be friends with…that woman.”
“You’re going to have to eat your dinner, guys, if you want churros for dessert,” Rafe quickly distracts the kids, who immediately start shoveling food in their mouths. Then he leans toward me and whispers, “Close your mouth, your fangs are showing.”
Rafe
I linger outside Spencer’s bedroom after reading him his story.
Soft voices drift into the hallway from my little girl’s partially open door.
Sofie surprised me when she asked Taz to tuck her in. She hadn’t done that before.
I sneak a little closer when I hear my daughter’s soft giggle.
“Her hair fell out?”
I have to strain to hear Taz’s whispered response.
“Sheila had a bald spot for the rest of the year.”
“Did you get in trouble?”
“I was suspended for a week, but it was well worth it.”
Another fit of giggles escapes and a warm feeling settles in my chest at the sound. Both heads swing to the door when I push it open.
“Daddy, did you know Mommy was a c
heerleader?”
I hadn’t known actually, but it suited her.
“It doesn’t surprise me,” I tell my daughter honestly as I approach her bed, leaning past Taz to kiss Sofie goodnight. “Don’t make it too long, Pipsqueak. It’s a school night after all, you need your sleep.”
As I walk out of the room I hear her ask Taz, “Will I like it? The farm in Kentucky?”
“I’m pretty sure you will. I think Grandma probably has some pictures she can show you.”
I’m no longer able to hear what is said when I make my way downstairs. The dogs are waiting by the back door, although for one of them it’s clearly too late.
By the time Taz comes down, Lilo and Stitch are back inside, I’ve cleaned up their accident, and a glass of wine is waiting for her on the counter.
“She wants to go,” she announces, smiling as she picks up her drink. “I actually think she’s excited about it. She just needed a little time to get used to the idea.”
“Good.” I tap my bottle against her glass and smile back. “Now, do I want to know what this business about hair falling out was that she apparently thought so hilarious?”
Taz takes a quick sip of her wine, peeking at me through her lashes. “Probably not,” she finally admits, clearly not ready to share that particular story with me.
In the silence that follows I find myself staring at her, contemplating what ten days alone in this house with her might be like. A long stretch of time by ourselves without discerning eyes to stifle this…thing…growing between us. Nothing holding us back from familiarizing ourselves with the other. Freedom to discover what it is that has me respond so strongly whenever she’s near.
Images tumble through my mind of those big brown eyes turning to liquid as I slowly peel away her clothes, right here in the kitchen. Exposing that tempting body I’ve only been able to guess at, and listening to her breath hitch as I leisurely explore.
Inadvertently my eyes slide down and catch the hint of an erect nipple peeking out from behind the bib of her overalls, against the thin-worn fabric of her shirt.
