Summer on Main Street

by Crista McHugh

  There was pillow talk, those insincere sentiments that many men would have no problem with imparting in order to get closer to someone, but Hayden had absolutely no doubts about the honesty of Ben’s profession. And that made it all the easier to give herself over to him with no hesitation.

  Ben pulled back and pushed her hair away from her face. For a lingering moment, they just stared at each other, probing each other’s thoughts. His breathing was rapid, the press of his chest against hers kept tempo with the rise and fall of her own bosom. The moment seemed to pause, but like some kind of intense force behind a crumbling wall, the transient interval couldn’t be maintained. Hayden reached up and slid her arm around the back of Ben’s neck, brought him back down to her, and captured his mouth again with hungry urgency.

  It was now. His hands slid over the gentle curve of her waist and across her belly, up until his fingers skimmed her tight sensitive nipples. Where his hands roamed his lips and tongue followed, taunting and teasing until she couldn’t take it anymore. With more eagerness than she thought she possessed, she let her own hands explore the heated surface of his skin, kneading the palms of her hands into his hard muscles in a downward sweep until they came in contact with his buttocks. Impatiently, she pushed his pajama pants down and felt him kick them the rest of the way off.

  The pressure of her hands on his rear brought on a strong intake of his breath. The hardness of his arousal pressed insistently against her thigh and Hayden curled her leg around his, shifting her body so his hair roughened torso brushed against her breasts and his erection thrust against the juncture of her thighs. His energy bunched together and transferred itself into her own flesh.

  She could’ve made that final move to bring him deep within her, but she didn’t, instead reveling in the stimulation of the head of his shaft against her tender flesh. He dipped his head down, skimming her lips with his own, his body poised above hers.

  With a fluid movement of her hips, Hayden let him slide into her body. The look of surprise on his face was quickly replaced by desire. Moonlight caught in his eyes and glittered.

  Hayden arched her back to the sweet pleasure, pressing her breasts into the air. Ben caught one in his teeth and applied gentle pressure to the pebbled nipple, then pulled it into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue. With each thrust of his hips and draw of his mouth on the peak of her breast, Hayden’s heart jumped, rushed and flew. Their breathing and flex of their bodies were in unison until they met a blinding, pulsing moment of release. Hayden pulled in a lungful of air then cried out Ben’s name. She grasped the straining muscles of his buttocks and held him between her thighs.

  “Oh, Hayden,” he gasped as his body gave one last buck, giving into the final moment of ecstasy.

  They remained together, Ben’s body covering hers, her legs wrapped firmly around his waist. Both breathed heavily and Hayden could feel the strong beat of his heart, reminding her of a horse’s hooves on the prairie floor.

  Slowly he rolled off her and onto his back, but he kept his arm tight around the curve of her waist until her breathing returned to normal. Heat from their bodies lingered between them and sleep began to steal her away. She had no idea what time it was, and the lids of her eyes were dragging down.

  “I love you, Ben,” she whispered sleepily.

  “I love you too, Hayden,” he replied, satisfaction evident in his low voice.

  ****

  Hayden brushed away the tickle at the side of her neck and turned over to snuggle into the cocoon of blankets. She wrapped an arm around her pillow and pulled it under her chin. Something soft touched her lips, just a graze, but it was enough to send a flutter to her heart. She smiled, but didn’t open her eyes and ruin the dream she was immersed in. It was far too lovely, but the external sensation couldn’t be ignored for long.

  Hayden inhaled deeply. She didn’t even need to open her eyes to know where she was. She knew Ben’s scent, knew the feel of his body against hers. With the palm of her hand, she felt his chest, ran her hand up to his shoulder and pulled him back down. There was no barrier between them, both their bodies free of clothing.

  She kept her eyes closed, relied on her other senses as she let her hands roam over his skin, reveling in the way his mouth claimed hers. The kiss burned right through her body, coiling in sensual ribbons of tingling heat. His hands explored her body as well, his fingers drifted across the peaks and valleys of her figure, danced and teased over the tight crest of each breast. Her body craved him, wanted to absorb his very essence into her own.

  Their lovemaking was slower this time, sweeter than she could’ve ever imagined. They had no reason to hurry, no desire to leave the delicious sanctuary of this room even as dawn bled in through the windows and spilled onto the covers of the bed. Not even when the first stirrings of work outside found its way to their ears. Instead all that concerned them was the whisperings from their hearts and the touch of their bodies until they soared over the edge of passion once more.

  Again Hayden sunk into Ben’s embrace. Neither spoke for a long moment.

  “Oh, damn.” Ben rested his forehead on Hayden’s chest, his breath soft against her sensitive skin. Hayden touched his head, ran her fingers through the short strands of his dark hair.

  “What is it?” she whispered. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good if it involved disrupting this interlude.

  “I have to be in Rapid City in about two hours.”

  Hayden matched his groan.

  “You want to ride along? It’s not going to be the most interesting trip in the world, but I’d love the company.” Ben pulled back enough to allow Hayden to gaze into his pale blue eyes.

  “I would love to, but I think I’m going to head over to Primrose. I need to do some things over there, go through some of Gran’s stuff.”

  Ben dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers. “Okay,” he murmured and kissed her again.

  How in the world can a kiss start in my lips and reach all the way down to my toes?

  “I better get back to my room before someone sees me in here.”

  Ben reached down and pulled his pajama pants off the floor. Hayden groaned as he sat up and slipped the blue pants up over his long legs to his waist. She giggled as he shot a look of surprise over his shoulder. Then he winked.

  “I’ll see you at dinner,” he said, his voice languid and sexy.

  Hayden nodded. “Have a safe trip.”

  “I love you, sweetheart.”

  She mouthed her reply, suddenly overwhelmed with the big picture, of how fundamentally her relationship with him had changed in one night. She managed a smile again and he turned for the door. What she really needed was for him to come back to bed, but there was too much to sort out, and now her feelings for Ben were thrown into the mix. They’d become as important as anything else in the world and the time had come to make a decision on what she would do with the rest of her life. Right now the safest thing to do was to let him walk out.

  Chapter Eight

  A familiar yellow car sat in front of the inn when Hayden finally arrived. Sally’s Celica glared blatantly against the gentler yellow of the house, boldly modern against the old-fashioned taste of the house.

  “What the devil?” Hayden growled and parked Gran’s car next to her cousin’s vehicle. Evidently Sally had gotten off to somewhere else because the car was unoccupied. Hayden bound up the stairs and to the front door, which she found unlocked. Several colorful and unkind words pushed up, but Hayden wouldn’t let them past her lips. After all, Sally had called this place home for two years and up until Hayden had shown up it had been intended for her. Old habits die hard perhaps.

  You’re being a wuss. She doesn’t belong here anymore. Especially not alone.

  Hayden stepped inside the foyer, and shut the door loudly. From the parlor she heard a gasp. She turned in that direction and found Sally standing in the center of the room, her periwinkle eyes wide with shock.

  “Can I help you?” Ha
yden demanded rudely. At the moment playing with her cousin was the last thing she wanted. Not when she just wanted to be alone with her thoughts.

  The look on Sally’s face went from guilt to icy in a split second.

  “I was just picking up a few things that I forgot,” she explained, but Hayden couldn’t miss the pink that crawled up her neck and into her cheeks. “I know I should have called you first, but I have another job I’m starting and I wanted to take care of everything here first.”

  “Yes, you could have called first,” Hayden replied coldly. “I expect you’ll be leaving your key.”

  Sally bit her lip and nodded, but her eyes hardened perceptively. Clearly Hayden’s attitude ticked her off, but Hayden refused to back down. Sally had no business coming in by herself. For a moment Hayden thought Sally would apologize, but she regained her composure, pulled herself up to her full five foot four height and looked around the room, a sad smile turning up her lips.

  “So, I take it you still plan on going back to Maine?”

  “Yes,” Hayden replied shortly. Chit chatting with Sally wasn’t her idea of a morning well spent.

  Sally made a “hmm” sound in her throat. “If I could make a suggestion then. Sell Primrose Inn to Ben. He’s always loved this land and he should have it.”

  Hayden rolled her eyes. “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do, Sally, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “I’m sure he’ll put the property to good use. But too bad about the house.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Sally laughed shortly and shrugged. “Well, he’s not going to need an old house. It’ll just cost a fortune to keep up and then he’ll have to pay taxes on it. I’m sure he’ll knock it down. The only thing of any use is the barn and the land.”

  Hayden bit down on a caustic reply. Sally was just trying to upset her and she refused to play that game.

  “I’m sure that he’ll do what he needs to do. If I sell to him.”

  Sally laughed again, a tinkling sound that grated on Hayden’s nerves. “Well, what else would you do with the place? I guess I’ll just get my belongings and get on my way. It was a real treat getting to know you, Hayden. Too bad it was under these circumstances.”

  “Good luck to you.” Hayden watched her gather a bright yellow tote by the door and fought the urge to grab it and spill the contents, sure the nurse was about to walk out with something that didn’t belong to her. She stayed glued to her spot, though, as Sally placed a key on the little round table by the door, turned, and with a smile, waved a final goodbye.

  After the sound of the Celica’s engine faded and left the house in silence, Hayden finally moved from her spot. She looked around the tidy little parlor, wondering what to tackle first. There was so much to do, but suddenly she was saddened by the thought of going through her grandmother’s personal items. It was a task that would take ages, but she didn’t have the heart for it.

  Would Ben really tear the house down? She pictured him in her mind, the sweet man he’d turned out to be. Caring and so attentive of Gran. She couldn’t picture him doing something so callous as tear down a home that had been part of the landscape for over a hundred years, a house that had so much more good left in it. It had to be something that Sally made up just to rile her. And it worked pretty damned well. Hayden admonished herself for letting her cousin’s words bug her.

  It was best not to think about it, Hayden decided and left the room to climb the stairs to her grandmother’s room. Even though it’d only been a few weeks since the room had been occupied, a musty smell had already begun to hang in the air. Hayden opened the windows to let fresh air in and, for a moment, stared out the window at the expanse of prairie beyond the old barn.

  Could she live there? Clouds gathered on the horizon, deep gray on the bottom, as if laden with water. Hayden expected another storm to race through, wreaking havoc on the land. It was enough incentive to get moving so she could get back to The Painted Horse safely and relatively dry.

  Two old suitcases sat on the top shelf of Gran’s closet. Hayden pulled them down and set them on the bed next to the wedding gown that still lay there. No doubt she’d find more than would fill two suitcases, but she decided she could always come back. She’d have to come back after she sorted everything out. For now she’d take the most meaningful items.

  For well over two hours, Hayden sucked down the feeling that she was nosing into her grandmother’s items uninvited and went through her drawers. She only took personal items of value, things she didn’t want to leave unattended, such as her grandmother’s jewelry and the photos that stood in pretty frames on the top of the dresser.

  Before she left the room, the two suitcases in hand, Hayden eyed the garment bag on the bed. Gran’s wedding dress. The urge to take it was strong, but she turned away from it. It had been the same dress she wore in her dream the night before. The gown she would have married Ben in.

  No, the sea captain.

  She hung the bag in the closet and shut the door.

  Back downstairs, Hayden returned to the parlor. Gran had photo albums on a shelf that was built into the wall next to the fireplace. Again she resisted the urge to look at them, but instead took the five large books and laid them gently into the suitcase. Perhaps she’d look at them when she got back to The Painted Horse.

  One task remained, something she’d put off doing since arriving in South Dakota and Primrose. But before leaving she had to face it. Down the hall, just past the entrance to the kitchen, a door remained shut. No one had gone into the room at all, at least that was according to Sally.

  Hayden wondered if her mother’s room really had remained untouched, as Sally had claimed. There was only one way to find out. Hayden took a deep breath and walked down the dim hallway to the door that led to the room her mother had slept in so long ago. With a hand on the old brass doorknob, she paused, gathered her courage, and then went in.

  Sunlight bled through the dark green curtains hanging on the two windows, giving off enough light for Hayden to see the posters hanging on the wall. Hayden stifled a giggle. Rod Stewart and John Schneider duked it out for honors. Who would’ve guessed? She tried to picture her mother as a moony-eyed teen, but just couldn’t. Evidently Rosalyn had harbored the same hormone-based crushes that every other girl did. Hayden switched on the light to get a better look at the room.

  An eerie sensation fluttered through her, as if someone stood right next to her. But the room was silent, as it had been for over twenty-five years, no doubt.

  The bed, still made up with what once would’ve been a shockingly bright floral bedspread remained neat and tidy, pillows stacked with an odd assortment of ragged stuffed animals and dolls.

  It looked like the room of any average girl, but this one was frozen in time, perhaps waiting for the return of its occupant. Hayden walked over to the window and pulled the curtain back. Sunlight streamed in, casting light on the dust that floated almost motionlessly in the air. Perhaps it had been the first sunlight the room had seen since her mother walked out.

  Like she did in her grandmother’s room, Hayden began to gather up personal items and put them in the second suitcase. Photo albums, jewelry, knick-knacks small enough to tuck into the corners of the case. The closet was filled with clothes that would fetch a good price at some of the vintage clothing shops in Portland, clothes that dated back to the mid-seventies, still in good shape. Hayden laughed at the styles, but it was bittersweet. Her mother had left so much behind in her quest for freedom and happiness.

  Under the bed, amongst the clusters of dust bunnies that were large enough really to be called dust cattle, there were several boxes. Hayden hauled them out one by one. Most contained books, old homework assignments and magazines, but one small box caught her eye. Not much bigger than a cigar box, it was made out of thin wood, hinged with brass, and tied up with a long strip of leather. Hayden shoved the other boxes back under the bed, but put this one aside.

  After givin
g the room a cursory search, pulling the curtain back across the window, Hayden took the suitcase and small box and left the bedroom, shutting the door behind her, and returned to the parlor.

  Hayden settled cross-legged in the center of the large round hooked rug and stared at the box on her knees. It could’ve contained anything, been from any point in her mother’s life. She had three such boxes at home, containing everything from treasured seashells and favorite knick-knacks to secret letters from boys and dried flowers from those same admirers. Hayden figured most girls kept such memory boxes.

  She ran a finger across the silky wood lid until she reached the brass catch. With a deep breath, she pushed the hasp back and opened the lid.

  A stack of letters, bound with an old pink elastic, sat on the top of the box. Without looking at them, Hayden pulled them out and set them on the floor at her side. Four photos were next. Her mother, with long, wild hair, her face happy and laughing, certainly the way Hayden remembered her. She couldn’t stop the smile from forming.

  The next two photos were taken in one of those photo booths that showed up at malls, beaches and fairs everywhere. Her mother and Jesse, cheek to cheek in one photo, and in the other kissing. Her mother definitely looked in love, and so did Jesse.

  The last photo was of her mom, Gran and Grandpa. The two parents hugged their daughter to them, and they looked happy and perfect.

  Hayden pulled other objects out of the box, ticket stubs from a fair and a concert, a necklace with a silver plated angel pendant, mood ring and various trinkets whose only value lay in their sentimentality.

  When she laid the last treasure back in the box and held the photo of her mother and grandparents, a sob caught in her throat. With a fervor she’d never experienced, not even when she held hands with her mother as she passed over, grief boiled up from her soul and flooded through her entire body.

  She tried to keep her eyes on the three faces in front of her, but they blurred under the flush of tears.