Beauty and the Brit

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Beauty and the Brit Page 15

by Selvig, Lizbeth


  “Gross.” Rio grimaced.

  “I’ll toss it into the trees over there,” he said. “The mouse equivalent to a burial at sea.”

  “My hero.” Her voice carried to him, deadpan.

  He got rid of the mouse, then ran his fingers under water from the hose coiled just off the back step of the deck. He joined her again.

  “Why did you really shoo away the cat?” she asked.

  “Other than the fact the little puma was going to slash me open and feast on my pancreas?”

  “That itty bitty thing?”

  “She’s taken to you. If you’re not careful, you’ll have a nasty bodyguard cat on your hands.”

  “Do I need a bodyguard?”

  “Do you want one?”

  That stopped her a moment. She pursed her lips. “You said it was your turn to play. I’m wondering what you meant.”

  “The truth? I’m feeling decidedly unmotivated to work and that scares me a bit. So I’m trying to figure out why you make me want to ignore my chores, drink girlie tea . . . kiss people without warning. This isn’t me.”

  “Funny you should say that . . .” Her words trailed off.

  “What?”

  She sighed. “I’m not sure who I am here either.”

  “Look.” He lifted one hand and caressed her knuckles gently with his thumb. “We wouldn’t think this was strange if we’d met through a friend or at a pub and we were attracted to each other. And I’ll admit there’s definitely attraction. On my part.”

  “Mine, too. It would be silly to deny it. But I’m not going to be here that long.”

  “A little while—until you’re safe.”

  “So what are you asking?” A tinge of playfulness crept into the question. “To date me? To kiss me? To . . .”

  “See whatever of your tattoos you’re willing to show me.”

  “I . . . what? Seriously?”

  The question sent her features into such confusion that he laughed. “Is it so unbelievable that I’m intrigued? You said you have six. How can I help but wonder what they are?”

  She cocked her head and studied him with a suggestive smile, as if deciding his worthiness. “I can show you some of them.”

  “What will I learn from them? About you?”

  “It’s more what you won’t learn—where the feather goes. Or the horse’s tail.”

  He leaned closer. “Awww, c’mon.”

  She only shook her head. “I can show you the moon.” At his raised brows she glowered. “Not that kind of moon.”

  “Would you show me the horse’s head again?”

  She smiled indulgently and swiveled in place. Bending forward, she pulled down the waistband of the cotton sleep pants, and this time David wasted no time in shock. He examined the art on her back with wonder. He hadn’t noticed the subtle golden shading in the horse’s dished face and arched neck, or the delicate strokes of pure white ink in its sweeping mane and tail. The palomino she’d said she wanted.

  An urge he refused to control made him extend his finger and trace the flowing, heart-shaped curve of the horse’s tail. She twitched, and he heard her tiny intake of breath. He tamped down the heat it ignited, frustrated that he still couldn’t see the end of the tail or the point where it curved to meet the mane. The desire to follow below the waistband of her heart-covered pants nearly wrecked his self-control, but he dragged his finger from her skin.

  She shrugged off her lightweight sweatshirt and exposed the skimpy knit top that served as her pajamas. “I can show you this one.” With the deliberateness of a striptease, she slipped the string strap from her right shoulder and let it fall to her elbow. “Pull the fabric past my shoulder blade.”

  He tugged gently on the fabric, his fingers clumsy with the task. The tattoo he exposed just beneath her shoulder blade extended down and toward her side—a black-and-white image of the moon and stars, dark and bright at the same time. Striking and beautiful.

  “Damn,” he said. “That’s a stunner, isn’t it?”

  She straightened and spun on the seat again, pulling her sweatshirt back around her shoulders. The soft knit T-shirt stretched across her breasts, and their perfection pressed out in relief against the fabric. The outline of one nipple beckoned like a signal light. He caught her by both upper arms as he had in the park.

  “Attraction,” he said. “Fascination. Red hair. That’s all.”

  “I’m not wearing a bra,” she added, as he lowered his mouth. “It could be shallow male lust.”

  “Trust me, you’re not half-wrong,” he whispered next to her mouth. “But we promised we wouldn’t do this again, so if you tell me to stop I will. I’m shallow but not irredeemable.”

  She made the final move into his kiss and managed to surprise him.

  Her hands grasped either side of his head, and she angled her mouth so it fit better against his. Weaving her fingers through his hair, she played with the pressure of their lips, opening and closing hers with butterfly-like nibbles. He followed her lead and cupped her ears, massaging his thumbs just in front of them, causing her to melt closer and open her mouth. Their tongues collided in sweet, mint tea goodness, and she smiled behind the kiss, sighing in acceptance. The vibrations carried tremors all the way to his gut. Her fingers dancing in his hair sent goose bumps bursting across his scalp.

  He pulled slowly away, drawing out the kiss and touching her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb after they parted. “The first kiss might have been a fluke,” he said. “Isn’t that what we said?”

  “Uh-huh.” She blinked a couple of times as if coming out of a stupor.

  “What do you think now?”

  “I think you’re dangerous. You shrivel my brain and turn me as boy crazy as my sister.”

  “I could like being considered dangerous.”

  She stood and slowly licked her swollen lips. “You could have gone further,” she said. “I practically flashed you a neon welcome sign. And if you’d touched me, like I was praying you would, I’d have liked it. But you didn’t.” A wistful smile lit on her lips. “I didn’t know I needed you to be a gentleman—they’re hard to find these days. Thank you. I’d better go get ready for my job interview.”

  Brilliant. He was a gentleman. He knew there was fear and vulnerability she wouldn’t admit to under her toughness. Still, what had playing the gentleman gotten him? A kiss and extreme physical frustration. It was a bloody good thing she couldn’t read his ungentlemanly mind.

  Chapter Fourteen

  * * *

  RIO GOT TO the end of Bridge Creek’s long driveway, stopped her car, and dropped her head forward onto the steering wheel with a thump and a groan. She still couldn’t believe what a freaking idiot she’d been. David had to think she was ridiculous.

  I’m not wearing a bra. She’d really announced that? As if she had to tell a man who could teach master classes on the art of kissing something so obvious. As if you advertised something like that at all.

  Not to mention I’d have liked it if you’d touched my boob, but thank you for being good.

  Seriously, where was her brain? She never acted this stupid around men. Around anybody. It was only him, and it had started before they’d ever kissed. Now that they had, apparently her head was a quivering mass of dead and dying brain cells.

  And apart from opening her mouth allowing stupid to come out, why would she thank a man for respecting her? As if he should have a choice. As if she’d had no choices in the matter, and gotten lucky.

  She pounded the steering wheel. The problem was, she didn’t want to think about female empowerment. All she truly wanted was to relive David’s kiss, because the only thing that had made her feel powerful in a very long time was the unbelievable current that ran through her body when her lips meshed with his.

  A crush. Women got them on their rescuers all the time. Only this didn’t feel like a crush. It felt like something inevitable and cosmic, despite how ludicrous that sounded in her head. With a final groan of frus
tration she pulled herself together and continued to town, passing the Wonder Weenie Mobile still beside the “Welcome to Kennison Falls” sign.

  She stepped into the main restaurant and got a shot of warmth. David had called it the heart of the town. It wasn’t hard to see why. Every eclectic detail called out “welcome home.”

  “Good morning, Rio!” Claudia passed her with two plates of eggs and pancakes, her long gray braid swinging jauntily. “You’re right on time. Do you drink coffee?”

  “I do.”

  “There’s a pot next to the counter over there. Pour yourself a mug and settle into the booth in the corner. I’ll be right there.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  “Good morning again.”

  A vaguely familiar voice hailed her, and she turned to see the man who’d delivered her car. In the light his features showed him to have a serious expression but a friendly eye that softened what could have been an intimidating face. High cheekbones and a thick, sable mustache camouflaged handsomeness that would be easy to miss. Rio smiled back easily.

  “Hi, Mr. Mitchell.”

  “No, no. It’s Dewey,” he said. “How’s the car running, then? Okay? I didn’t have time to check it over but it seemed to drive all right.”

  He had a tinge of Minnesotan in his words, something Rio, a born-and-bred Minnesota girl herself, rarely heard. Yet he made the accent charming, without sounding like a Coen brothers film.

  “It seems fine, thank you. And it’s full of gas, too. I’m sure it wasn’t found that way.”

  He shrugged. “A little gas to get you going. It’s not a big deal.”

  “I appreciate it, though.”

  He smiled. “Well, bring ’er in if she has any problems. I’m happy to take a look if she needs a little tune-up.”

  A sense of unreality threatened to overwhelm her. Niceness filtered through the air here like a weird sort of perfume. The people she worked with in Minneapolis were nice, too, but not like this. This was unicorns and kittens nice, not normal, “hello, have a nice day, see you later” nice.

  “That’s very”—she stumbled over the word “nice”—“kind of you. Everyone’s been so welcoming.”

  He lifted his coffee mug in a mini-salute. “We’re all right most of the time. Sounds like you’ll maybe be helpin’ us out, too?”

  Laughter sneaked up and lightened her heart. There wasn’t any point anymore in being surprised at what people knew around this place.

  “Maybe. For a little while,” she admitted. “So I’ll see you around then?”

  “Here every day at break time.”

  “Good. And, thank you again. It helps a lot to have my wheels back.”

  “I figure, who can survive without tires and an engine, right?”

  She gave him a thumbs-up and turned back for her coffee, to find Claudia with a mug already poured.

  “Oh!”

  “You’ll fit in just great around here,” Claudia said. “Chatting with the customers like that? They love it.”

  “I swear this place is covered in pixie dust or something. It’s like having coffee in Cinderella’s Castle.”

  “Not at all. It’s just different from the city is all. You’ll see soon enough.”

  Rio took the coffee and followed Claudia to an isolated booth made from handsome wooden logs. There were other booths, but this one stood out as unique.

  “This is Bud’s Booth,” Claudia said. “Effie’s husband built the original that was destroyed in the storm. He, Dewey, and David, actually, rebuilt it. The first thing you have to know is that it’s always kept open for anything special that comes our way. If a couple arrives looking like they need to be alone—put ’em here. If someone looks sad—put him here. If there’s an important meeting—it goes here. Somehow, it’s almost always available when it needs to be.”

  “Wow, a magical booth.”

  “Just one of the services Effie provides.” Claudia chuckled. “I think you’ll find this is quite a place, honey. Little special things everywhere.”

  Rio stiffened. Being called “honey” never failed to give her a painful tweak. Even after ten years she could hear her step-grandmother’s grating voice float in from the past, “Honey Rio, trust me. I know what’s best.”

  “I’m sure there are,” she said quickly, dispelling the memory.

  They talked after that about Rio’s experience, about what she wanted to do, and when she was able to work. The matter-of-fact conversation flowed more easily for Rio and allowed her to keep her emotional distance from the warm, fuzzy Claudia, and returned her sense of control. Rio understood schedules, restaurant rush times, and sharing duties. They were things she could control and negotiate.

  When Claudia brought her to see the kitchen and introduce her to Effie’s husband, Bud, the owner and main chef, and to Vince, one of The Loon’s three cooks, Rio could comment on the state-of-the-art facility and prove she knew her way around a grill. After her flood of questions, Bud seemed impressed.

  “You might be dangerous to hire,” he said. “You know too much. We’ll be obsolete.”

  She shook her head in certainty. “I know about frying up greasy burgers and grilling patty melts. I think you’d have far more to teach me.”

  “She’s hired, Claudia,” he said. “She’s polite and knows how to suck up. That’s a rare combo. Welcome aboard, Rio.”

  She started unofficially then and there. After filling out paperwork, she shadowed Claudia, learning the cash register and the credit card system. She took a handful of orders and watched as Vince and Bud whipped up the sandwiches and burgers. The crowd filtered in as it approached noon, and at twelve-thirty Karla Baxter arrived for her shift and greeted Rio like a long-lost sister.

  “Thank goodness you came along,” she said. “I’ve been so concerned about school starting. I didn’t want to leave everyone in the lurch, but I have no choice.”

  “I think it’ll be fun,” Rio said.

  “We’re all family. We’ve been pulling together a long time.”

  That made it all the more strange to Rio that she was so quickly accepted. Families were usually tight-knit and slow to let outsiders infiltrate. Yet, the small crew welcomed her patiently and with good humor. She wasn’t even officially on the payroll. The five hours between her arrival at The Loon and 3:30 p.m. flew past.

  “I think we’ve stuffed enough information into your poor brain for today,” Claudia told her after Rio rang up her first bill on her own. “You’re a quick study.”

  “It helps that I’ve done this before,” she replied. “Just never in such a nice place. I think I’ll enjoy working here.”

  “I’m so glad. And I think we’ll enjoy having you. Now, you’re all right with the day shift? Four days this week. My sister Gladdie will take Friday, and I prefer the evenings because it gives me the days to get my work done at home.”

  “That’ll be just fine.”

  “Then we’ll see you tomorrow at nine. You’ll meet a couple of the other girls who help at busy times throughout the week. They’ll all head back to school in three weeks, too, so they’re very part-time.”

  “I’ll be here. Thank you, Claudia. This will help me out a lot.”

  “It’s mutual, honey.”

  Rio let the “honey” go. Claudia’s endearment wrapped her in warmth, so different from Yaya’s rankling condescension. When she reached her car, she realized the embarrassment and confusion of the morning with David had ebbed away. She also realized, a little bit to her surprise, how much she enjoyed hanging around a restaurant. At home it had simply been her job. She’d never minded going to it, but she’d certainly never considered it something she liked. The atmosphere at The Loon Feather gave her a sense of accomplishment and place. She looked forward to returning.

  Before starting the engine, she pulled her phone from her purse and checked it out of habit. Her thoughts careened to a halt when Paul’s name appeared above a text message.

  Her heartbeat doub
led. She hadn’t heard from him—or whoever it was—in over three days except for the sign in her car. With trembling fingers she tapped on the message. Her mouth dropped open.

  Clever to sneak the car out of the lot in the middle of the night. I don’t know where you are yet, but I’ll find you and Bonnie before you can find me. Inigo sends his love.

  She dropped the phone like it was a snake and gasped for air. The confirmation it wasn’t Paul sending the messages both relieved and terrified her.

  But why was he going to the trouble?

  Hector was a two-bit gang member. He simply couldn’t care this much about a teenager he’d dated fewer than half a dozen times. And if he was angry about the scratches from Rio, well, he’d burned her damn house down. What more revenge could there be? This whole terrorizing gig made no sense.

  Her high deflated. Hector had been watching the car. Rio didn’t know how likely it was he really could find Bonnie. He was a small-time thug with few connections. On the other hand, he was mean, and he was resourceful. He’d evaded police for more than a week now.

  She shouldn’t worry, but all at once she couldn’t wait to get back to David’s and check on Bonnie. Or maybe she should first go back and quit this job. How could she look out for her sister if she wasn’t with her? On the other hand, how could she ever get Bonnie out of there if she didn’t have money? She rubbed her eyes for a painful moment. Five minutes earlier life had been hopeful for the first time in many days. Now reality had scuttled her ship again. You really couldn’t escape who you were. Even in unicorn and puppy land.

  Sure enough, at Bridge Creek something seemed off. Searching the yard, however, gave Rio no clue as to what it was. There was no evident panic. Several cars were parked beside the barn. She pulled in beside a shiny new, green Nissan. It could have belonged to anyone, but she eyed it suspiciously. Cars at the barn were always dusty and filled with riding paraphernalia. This vehicle was pristine.

  Neither Bonnie nor David was in the barn. At the house, she crossed the deck to the back door and opened it to the sound of voices carrying through the empty kitchen from the living room. Puzzled, she made her way to the doorway. The moment she caught sight of a short, plumpish woman with the loveliest silver-streaked black hair she’d ever seen, Rio knew who she was and also who belonged to the perfect car outside. She’d completely forgotten about David’s mother’s arrival.

 

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