The Bride Takes a Powder

by Jane Leopold Quinn

It had been so long since he'd had sex and she touched something inside him, something protective. Something needy, something longing, yearning. The mystery of why she was in B Falls took his mind off the shock of the cheating allegations that made him feel alone and vulnerable. Hugs from his mom weren't exactly what he needed at the moment. A walking wet dream was. And he intended to enjoy this as long as possible.

  Happily for him the music finally turned slow. If she wanted to back away from him, she didn't follow through. Her hand crawled up his arm and settled primly over his shoulder. He clasped her other hand in his and rested both on his chest. She stiffened a moment but then, relenting, relaxed against him.

  "See, I'm much better at slow, Norah." She huffed a short laugh. He couldn't breathe, barely moved his feet, just held her gaze, on and on, ensnared within her light eyes. Intriguing. Compelling. Mysterious. He realized he'd never seen them in daylight, only in the dark of his bar and this one. What color were they anyway?

  Why is she here? Oh, what the hell. You have a beautiful woman in your arms. You're slow dancing. What more did he want? He almost forgot the trouble he was in. His whole body snapped to attention, and he smothered a groan when her fingers touched the long hair at his nape. "Thank you."

  "What?" She sounded drowsy and seductive as if just waking up after a night of intoxicating full-out sex.

  "You're making me forget my problems," he whispered.

  Her hand moved back to his shoulder. "How can you be here with the two people investigating this?"

  "Yeah, well, they're friends." He hoped they believed in him. Moira had grown up in B Falls and had known him for years. Stu was fairly new to town but was friends and lovers with Davy, who would believe Mike was honorable.

  Whatever. With a soft-skinned, sweetly scented, gorgeous woman in his arms, he didn't want to think about the crap going on in his life.

  Norah shook her head. Unbelievable. He'd been accused of cheating on test scores, and here he was hanging with the people investigating him and then calmly dancing with her.

  And you're enjoying him, aren't you? Good God, he felt fine, amazingly buff for an English teacher. Although there was no reason an English teacher couldn't be a hunk. His soft shirt clung to his torso, her palm resting under his on a hard pectoral where she felt the solid pump of his heart. The jeans hugged his thighs all hot and firm brushing against hers. "Isn't it a conflict of interest for those two?"

  "Mm?"

  He didn't seem to be worrying about his legal problems. "Do you know when the meetings were?"

  "What meetings?"

  Her eyes drifted closed at the heat of his breath wafting on her ear. Her stomach clenched, her clit throbbed at the feel of his large erection pressing against her belly.

  "The grade changing ones," she murmured, almost forgetting what they were talking about.

  Then he rubbed his cheek against hers and brushed his lips over her cheek right next to the already tingling ear.

  She shivered, swallowing heavily. He was moving a bit too fast. Maybe he was using her as a distraction to keep his mind off the scandal. Maybe she was using him…

  "I'm not thinking about that right now. Not with a very appealing woman in my arms," he whispered.

  Lord, he was holding her tightly, and Lord, it was still wonderful. If she forgot for the moment why she was in this town she'd say she felt safe in his arms. She should run away as fast as possible but didn't truly want to. Running away two times in one week was excessive. She silently chuckled at that. Yeah, sure, use any excuse to stay in his arms. His marvelous, glorious, welcoming arms.

  It seemed as if they'd been dancing for hours. "Why is your hair so long?" She fingered the strands on his collar. "Is that approved for a small-town teacher?"

  He laughed, angling his neck displaying pleasure in her touch. "No, there's no rule. You should see the biology guy. He has a ponytail."

  "How very progressive."

  "This may be a small town, but we do know about the outside world," he murmured mockingly.

  "Okay, okay. I'm sorry," she apologized. "You know, when I first saw Birchwood Falls from the train, it appeared from the mist lit by the sun like Brigadoon. So, in a way, it does seem like a magical town." He pulled his head back, narrowing his gaze, she supposed to see if she was making fun of the place. She calmly met his inspection, feeling a warm smile spread across her face.

  His expression softened, his lips parted, lashes lowering. Oh God, he was looking at her lips, lips that started to tingle, to swell in anticipation, lips that wanted to touch his. He was going to kiss her right here on the dance floor. No. This can't happen. Must change subject. "How many people live here?" Stupid, stupid. In her oddly breathy voice the inane question sounded sensual to her ears.

  "About twenty-six thousand." He murmured the ordinary response and pulled her closer, his hand splayed across her back.

  She loved and feared what he was doing to her. This wasn't why she'd abandoned her wedding, the wedding to another man she'd thought she was in love with. How could she have been if she was craving the passion and heat Mike created? And she realized she already thought of Garrett in the past tense. He was over. They were over.

  In her stilettoes, she and Mike were almost the same height. He pressed his cheek against hers, his soft breath puffing across her ear. She couldn't stop herself, reflexively arching into him, pressing more fiercely when he molded his hips against hers. Hard. From the feel of it, he was big and thick. And aroused. And hot even through layers of clothing. This was the longest slow dance of her life.

  "Let's go," he suddenly rumbled in a husky voice. He steered her over to the table to grab his jacket and her purse then hustled her out of the club.

  Surprised, she allowed him to urge her along. She didn't think he even acknowledged their exit to his friends.

  It wasn't raining, but the air, oppressively sultry and heavy with humidity, promised impending storms. Her hair undoubtedly was frizzing up, the fine strands tickling her cheeks. They strolled along the river walk toward her house. A couple of the benches along the river were occupied by snuggling couples apparently oblivious to the rain. At times a gust of wind sent river water spraying over the sidewalk. They had to quick-step away from a shoe drenching.

  He slid his arm around her waist. This whole evening had become incredibly strange. A sexy pregnant chanteuse. A cop bar owner married to the songbird. A man drinking with people investigating him. Not to mention her own baffling sexual attraction to another man right after escaping a disastrous marriage. Feeling like a teenager, she tucked her fingers through a belt loop on the back of his jeans. What was this? The fifties? Happy Days? Bobby socks and poodle skirts. Wow, that was way before her time. She laughed aloud, breaking the companionable silence.

  "What's so funny?"

  "Sorry, I just thought of something."

  "Care to share?" he teased.

  "No, it wasn't important." She didn't want him knowing what was in her mind. He dropped his question, and they ambled along. Again breaking the silence because she felt she should rein in what she feared could become her runaway libido with this guy, she said, "Well, it shouldn't be hard to figure out who's setting you up."

  "Norah, the last thing I want to talk about is that. I am not guilty of being involved and am not worried about it. The truth will come out. It always does," he snapped.

  "Not always," she grumbled. But look at Garrett. The truth actually did come out about him.

  When they reached a dark spot between two street lamps, he stopped and faced her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to jump down your throat." Smooth as could be, he trailed a fingertip across her cheek to trace her lower lip. "That problem is so far back in my mind right now."

  She bit her lip at the tickle his light touch made. Visions tumbled through her of biting him, of sucking his finger into her mouth. Actions came to her mind, things she'd never done before, never imagined doing. Her mind raced in a confused mess. This wasn't what was su
pposed to be happening right now. She stared into his eyes, her lips parting. He lifted her chin with that fingertip, lowered his head, and kissed her.

  Surprised, she held still until his heat and intent drilled through to her frozen fear-filled soul. She didn't want this, but his very wonderful kiss made her forget that. Squeezing her eyes closed, she gave in to the emotions overwhelming her.

  He drew her tongue into his mouth, tangling and teasing. Their mouths mashed tightly together, his arms fiercely powerful around her. One hand cradled her head, the other engulfed her bottom, his big hand cupping it and pulling her close.

  Her response to his immensely rigid cock cushioned against her belly and the pulsing ache of her clit left her weak kneed. She would have fallen but he caught her without releasing her lips or moving his hands.

  Hands locked together, palms pressing against the muscles of his back, she kneaded the ridges of his spine. On her breasts, her sensitive nipples, she felt the vibration of his low groan, heard her answering one.

  Chapter Five

  "Come up to my place." Mike barely lifted his lips from hers to utter the plea before he resumed inhaling her. He wanted Norah Ballard in his bed. Now. He almost sobbed when he felt her stiffening and pulling away. No…

  Pushing, her hands firmly on his shoulders, she moaned, "I can't."

  "Yes, you can, honey."

  "Uh uh." She vehemently shook her head. "I ca—"

  Her house was closer than his apartment, so he urged her across the street, climbed the steps, and welcomed the dark shadows and protection of the large wrap-around porch. Pulling her into his arms, he felt her surrender, and his kisses went deeper, his tongue rolling into her mouth. For a woman his age, she seemed inexperienced though. She'd been with that jerk Dunleith at school. They had to have had sex, but she seemed almost prim.

  Backing her against the wall, he used his hands to protect her from the rough wood and slid his lips along her jaw to nibble down the long line of her neck. She lifted her chin, angling it, giving him the silent okay to explore. When he got to the buttons of her silk blouse, he brought one hand around to open the top one.

  The second he touched there, she shook her head again. "We're outside."

  "The stairs." He knew of the inside stairway to the second floor. "Take me upstairs, Nor. I need to see you." Fuck you. He had one button undone, and his fingers traced the top of her breast finding the edge of her bra. His heart thudded heavily at the thought of her round firm breasts covered with see-through lace. And what color would her nipples be? Pale? Dark? It wouldn't matter once they were in his mouth. He cupped the back of her head and kissed her, his crushing mouth open wide, opening hers, suckling her tongue, tasting her, devouring her. He shook with the hungry need for her. "Please, Nor." Fuck me.

  Bringing her hands up to his face, she cradled his cheeks, and held him off. "Mike, no, I can't. Please don't ask me. I have to go."

  "Not leaving town?" Oh God, he couldn't stand it if she left now. He didn't know what the hell she was doing here, but she couldn't go now.

  "Please let me go."

  Good God, her desperation was so heartrending. Of course he'd stop. He didn't like it, but he'd do it. "Nor, we can talk about this tomorrow."

  ***

  Norah awoke, sun blazing through her bedroom window through the curtain she'd forgotten to close last night. Sprawled on her stomach, luxuriating in the warmth of the bedding tangled around her. She closed her eyes and dreamily relived last night with Mike. He'd kissed her with a hunger that surprised her. Garrett's kisses had never been so fierce. You've got to stop comparing your ex-fiancé to Mike especially since Garrett comes out the loser. Rolling to her back, she crossed her arms over her breasts. She'd pressed them against Mike's hard chest. Her nipples had ached at the sensation, and she'd shamelessly writhed, teasing herself.

  The heat of his rigid erection, hips rocking, certainly proved his arousal. One hand clasped around her hips, palming her bottom, the other hand cupped her head, his fingers threaded through her hair. This dual embrace had made her feel cherished, which was strange since they barely knew each other. She smiled. It was nice to feel you were important to someone. It hadn't been that— Stop! Stop comparing them. Don't make this something it isn't. You don't plan to stay in this town. Thank goodness she'd had the strength to stop him from coming up, and he'd graciously accepted her decision to climb the stairs to her apartment alone. He'd been reluctant but not insistent.

  She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. Wow! Mike was actually the kind of guy she hadn't believed existed. A non-manipulative gentleman and a gentle man—sweet and confident with faith in himself. Well, he wasn't a hundred percent gentle. He could kiss pretty aggressively, and he'd been that close to getting into her bra.

  But she believed he hadn't been part of the test score cheating. As a lawyer she'd need more actual proof, but as a woman, she knew.

  The day was mild and sunny for a change, and she yearned to be outside. Home in Chicago, she hadn't taken time to just wander the city streets. Sure, she walked Michigan Avenue, but that was in and out of the designer shops. Peripherally, she'd noticed the gorgeous plantings and art pieces in the center dividers and parkways in front of the businesses, but had she ever stopped just to admire them?

  There weren't any unique sculptures here in Birchwood Falls unless you counted the funny decorated trash cans, but flowers and blooming trees dotted the park at Courthouse Square and filled planters in front of the stores.

  Sipping coffee on the McMillan House porch with no work, no legal documents, no interruptions felt truly decadent. The house, perched on the corner of Birch Boulevard and Route 20, was in a good position to see all the action, more than she'd thought for a small town. From her vantage point she could see a condo complex, Birch Park, the country club, the river, and shops right across the highway. The courthouse was only a block in the distance.

  The river raced along its banks not quite so wildly as last night. Seemingly endless rain had the townspeople concerned about flooding. Businesses closest to the water had even started stockpiling sandbags. From the comfort of the porch swing, she spotted Phoebe coming her way and waved.

  "Morning, Norah. Beautiful day, isn't it?"

  "It sure is. You were fantastic last night." She motioned the pregnant woman to join her. Lifting her coffee mug, she asked, "Something to drink?"

  "I have my juice, thank you." Phoebe held up a glass bottle. "I'm not that fond of it so I use my walk to distract me."

  "Can you sit a while?" The woman fascinated her, and she wanted to find out more about her.

  "I'd love to." Phoebe slowly lowered herself to a rocking chair.

  "You said you'd worked in Chicago? What brought you back here?"

  "Until recently—" She gently patted her burgeoning belly. "—all I ever wanted was to be in New York or LA. I was singing here at Marietty's waiting for my big break. Then I met Marc."

  "The cop. Right?"

  "He wasn't a cop when we met." Phoebe gazed off into the distance, a dreamy smile on her face. "I was never going to stay in this burg," she said but with affection in her voice. "But between my good friends here and Marc's hunting me down in Chicago, I realized what I really wanted for my life. And I discovered I already had it." She stopped to catch her breath, her hand on her chest.

  "Are you okay?"

  "Oh yes." Phoebe smiled serenely. "I'm like a convert to a new religion. What I mean to say is that belonging to a place and being surrounded by love and support are what I really wanted. Fame was how I thought I'd find it."

  Dismay pricked Norah's heart. Life should really be that simple. She'd never felt a sense of belonging with Garrett. It was almost as if they'd been entering a marriage of convenience with no passion on either side. Sex with no passion. Her whole life was beginning to fall apart. The truth was it had already fallen apart. Did Garrett feel the same way, and that's why he'd fucked around on her? The thought made her want to vomit.


  "And I still get to sing as much as I want." Phoebe burbled happily on.

  "And now you're married with a baby on the way."

  "Yup. Life's pretty good right now. I saw you and Mike leave last night."

  Norah hoped her blush didn't give it all away. Amazing that she could even still blush. "He walked me home."

  "Mike's a wonderful guy!" Phoebe pursed her lips. "I'm just furious that some jerk has accused him of being involved in the cheating!"

  "Do you think he can prove he wasn't?"

  "He shouldn't have to! Mike is one of the most honest guys in town, next to my husband, that is. Mike was our best man. He loves this town and the school. He'd never do anything illegal like changing test scores."

  Norah nodded, amused at Phoebe's confidence, but she also felt Mike looked innocent. Looks could be deceiving, but in his case she didn't think they were.

  ***

  School was out for the weekend, and Mike felt exactly like one of his horny students, something he remembered well from his own high school days. Kissing Norah had set his heart racing and his cock throbbing with need. Her soft body was heaven in his hands. That ass, not a skinny girl's ass but a full firm handful, provoked him to want more. He'd leaked like a teenage boy at the thought of biting and licking and sucking on those round butt cheeks. She'd moaned, the sound fracturing his senses. It was madness, these reactions to her. It had taken all his gentlemanly genes to leave her at the door when what he really ached to do was bundle her up the stairs and into bed.

  It's been a long time since college. You don't know this woman. You were never more than acquaintances, so slow yourself down, buddy.

  Why would the beautiful, sophisticated woman suddenly appear in B Falls? And stay? Is she running from something? Maybe a bank robber on the run. He scoffed at that. It came from too much free non-female time watching too many cop shows on TV. Birchwood Falls CSI. He shook his head in amusement and got back to polishing the chrome on the beer spigots.

  All those thoughts careened through him until he heard the creaking hinges from the entrance. Well, lookie who just walked through my door. "Hi, Norah." He greeted her with what he hoped was a welcoming grin and not a lascivious leer.