Distracted

by Madeline Sloane

  “Squeeze you in?” he muttered.

  “Thanks Billy. I’ll call you,” Erin promised.

  Spence paused at a sign calling for investors. “Somebody’s got big plans for the place,” he said.

  Erin read the sign and admired architect Jack Frey’s drawing of the new and improved Peachy’s. His mother was a Peachy and she still operated the fitness center that also offered video and DVD rentals. “Wow! Eaton will finally get a shopping mall!”

  Spence eyed the cacophony of storefronts, each opened individually and without much regard for the design or location of its neighbor. One window featured wrestling puppies under the shop name, “Mazie’s Pet Store.” Around the corner was a chiropractor. Someone had plunked a jewelry kiosk in the walkway next to the arcade.

  “Is there anything this place doesn’t have?” Spence asked.

  “It’s got a boutique and a gun shop, but it could use a Gap. Or Peachy’s version of the Gap,” Erin suggested. “Now’s the time to get in on the action. Want to invest some of those millions?”

  Spence smiled grimly but said nothing.

  Mac Peachy, Billy’s grandfather, was stocking the cereal aisle as they rounded the corner and entered the grocery store.

  “Erin. Nice to see you,” he said. “Good day, sir. Welcome to Eaton and to Peachy’s.”

  Spence nodded to the courtly old gentleman. He noted the box of bran flakes in Mac’s hand. “Excuse me, do you carry Captain Crunch?”

  “Ah, a sweet tooth. All filling and no fiber but yes, we carry it. Down aisle seven on the right.”

  Erin smiled at Mac and pushed her cart down the aisle. Spence dropped two boxes of cereal in the basket. Erin picked up a box of shredded wheat.

  “I prefer substance,” she said.

  Still moody, the two silently worked their way down each aisle, dropping items helter skelter into the basket.

  “Don’t they sell beer or wine here?” Spence asked.

  “You have to go to a package store for that. Alcohol is only sold in state stores.”

  “That’s ridiculous. What if I want a glass of wine my meal?”

  Erin sighed. “I have wine at the cabin.”

  They checked out silently; Erin insisted on paying for the food. At the SUV, Spence loaded the grocery bags into the back compartment. Slamming the hatch shut, he moved to the driver’s side.

  “Give me the keys,” he demanded.

  “You don’t know where you’re going,” Erin argued.

  “I’ll figure it out. There’s only one road.”

  Erin stared at his chin then flipped him the keys. He caught them high in the air. Then, taking her elbow he escorted her to the passenger side. He opened the door and waited for her to slide in before closing it quietly.

  Erin wanted to shriek. Spence climbed in and as he was placing the key into the ignition, Erin put her hand on his arm.

  “Please don’t do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Don’t be angry. No silent treatment. If you have anything to say, then say it. I said I was sorry. I didn’t see how it could matter.”

  “You’ve been living with me for weeks and you didn’t think it could matter that you’re married?”

  “We’re not ‘living together’ and I’m not married!”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because he doesn’t matter.”

  “How could he not?”

  “Spence, you’ve been with many beautiful women. I know; I’ve seen the magazines.” She slid next to him and put her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek to his. “Do you think about them when you’re with me?”

  His arms tightened around her and he kissed her, punishing her with his angry mouth. Despite the pain, Erin welcomed his touch, her lips pliant against his. He abruptly pushed her way, turned to the steering wheel and started the engine. The truck tires spun as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the Chappell farm.

  He was going too fast and he knew it, blowing past the 55 speed limit sign. Erin squirmed uncomfortably as the red speedometer needle rose to 70. Just as she started to speak and caution him to slow down they both heard a “whrrppp” and saw red flashing lights in their side mirrors.

  A frown creased Spence’s face as he moved his foot from the gas pedal and slowly braked. He put on a turn signal and looked ahead for a turn-off. With no shoulder on the country road, he waited for a driveway and then pulled in. The old farmhouse it served was set a quarter mile off the road so he didn’t think they would mind.

  “Great,” Erin muttered. “This is all we need.”

  A few seconds later a tall, dark-haired man, his eyes shuttered with dark sunglasses and a police-issue Stetson on his head, was at the driver’s side door of the SUV. Spence rolled down the window and had his wallet in his lap, searching for his license.

  “Hi Boone! How you doing?” Erin flashed a dazzling smile at the man.

  Spence glanced at Erin then back at the police officer, and watched her turn on the charm.

  “Didn’t I hear that you’re the sheriff now? That’s awesome. How’s your mom? Your daddy still preaching at the Baptist church?”

  Sheriff Alec Boone nodded and smiled. “Hello Erin. It’s good to see you again.” He turned back to Spence and said, “License and registration please.”

  Spence handed him his North Carolina license and looked to Erin for the paperwork. She opened the glove box and pulled out the contract. “It’s not our car. It’s a lease. Spence and I just arrived in town and he’s not used to the roads here yet,” she said, explaining.

  “It’s fine,” Spence growled at Erin. To Boone he said, “It’s okay. I know I was speeding. Just write the ticket and we’ll be on our way.”

  Erin chewed her lip and looked out the passenger window.

  Boone read the license and the car lease info for a few seconds. He handed them to Spence and tipped his hat back. He recognized tension and figured the man was clenching his jaw because of the woman next to him, not concern for a speeding ticket. He’d been repressing a lot of his own frustration lately.

  “No ticket, just a warning. Keep your eye open for deer also. They can do a lot of damage, even to a large vehicle like this.” Boone ducked a little lower and smiled at Erin. “Erin, have a nice day. Yes, daddy’s still preaching and mama is fine. I’ll tell her you said hello.”

  Spence watched his side mirror as the tall man sauntered back to his police car. When the door closed and the flashing lights turned off, he turned towards Erin.

  “Is your seatbelt fastened?” he asked. With a nod, he turned on his blinker and slowly backed out of the driveway and onto the highway. It was a quiet ride the rest of the way to the cabin. It was, after all, only one road and he did recall the way.

  Spence helped unload the grocery bags and then headed out the door. “I’m going for a walk.”

  Erin watched as he strode down the path to the shore. A tear slid down the side of her nose. She sniffed, then turned to the kitchen cabinets and began putting away the food. She decided to grill steaks, and pulled a bottle of merlot from the wine rack. She popped the cork and filled two glasses with the deep red wine.

  With her left hand clutching her wine glass and a bag of charcoal in the other, she walked outside. Setting her glass on the picnic table, she ripped the bag open and spilled the contents into the grill. She squirted lighter fluid on the briquettes and inhaled as she lit them, cravenly enjoying the dizzy rush from the fumes. Soon the charcoal glowed red beneath a layer of white ash. She hoped Spence would smell the steaks and realize his would be well done. Too well done. Fine, she thought, tipping her third glass of wine at the clock, let him stay outside, in the woods. Probably lost. She took another deep gulp. Hope he’s out there all night. Hope he’s freezing.

  She piled a salad of mixed greens, walnuts and strawberries on the bright blue fiesta ware plates. The table, heavy with its Formica top and chrome legs, was another “Retro” treasure. She broke
a loaf of French bread in half, and then into smaller chunks, arranging them in a basket lined with a red-checked napkin. A generous dollop of butter in a small, avocado-green bowl completed the scene.

  Steaks, salad, bread, wine. All the ingredients were there except for Spence. Where was he? Erin tipped the bottle of wine, filling her glass again. Darn, now the bottle’s empty. No matter; she picked up Spence’s glass and sipped his. Serves him right. I’ll eat his steak, too.

  Erin curled up on the sofa and waited, the pink vintage radio playing Golden Oldies. Mom, Dad? Where are you? How did I make such a mess? Erin emptied the wine glass and, leaning back, closed her eyes.

  It was much later when Spence mounted the cabin steps and quietly pushed open the screen door. A soft light glowed in one corner of the room. The kitchen table had been set for two, a romantic dinner it seemed. An empty bottle of wine sat on the counter, a goblet in the sink.

  Erin, asleep on the couch, had curled into a ball still clutching the other goblet. Her light hair fanned her cheek. Spence gently took the glass out of her relaxed fingers and knelt on the floor beside the sofa. He stroked her cheek and whispered her name.

  “Spence?” She roused slowly, groggy still from drinking too much wine.

  “You partying without me?”

  “I waited long as I could. I’m sorry.” She snuggled against his hand and kissed his knuckles. “Don’t leave me, Spence.”

  “I’m not, baby. I’m here.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you. I mean, I didn’t want you to find out… I don’t know what I’m saying. Stop me,” she said, drowsily stroking his cheek.

  He bent to her lips, tasting the wine and breathing in the heady aroma of spirits and her clean, female scent. “Woman, you make me crazy.”

  Erin put her arms around his neck. “Shhh. Kiss me.”

  Dinner forgotten, Spence did as he was told.

  * * *

  “Okay, its Day Three in Pennsylvania and we really have to get some work done,” Erin said. She flipped open her laptop and plugged it into the nearest outlet. Booting up her computer, she clicked on the word processing icon. She typed a few words then patiently waited for Spence.

  He lolled on the sofa bed, his hair wet from their late morning swim. They spent the night at the cabin and made love twice, then again in the lake that morning.

  “We’ve only got a bare-bones outline and a few raggedy-ass chapters. We have to move on. Patricia is going to fire me if I can’t get you motivated.”

  “Erin, I don’t have time to write a book; I’m too busy slaking my editor’s lust.”

  She blushed furiously and tossed a cinnamon bun at his head. He caught it and took a bite.

  “Lord, if you would only work as hard on this book as you do making excuses.”

  “Let’s make a deal: You give me a massage and I’ll work steady for one hour.” He rolled over, crossed his arms under his chin and winked at her. His hair, tousled with streaks of brown and red, shone like gold in the morning sun. His smile, white teeth against his tanned face, took her breath away. Does he know how beautiful he is, she wondered. Dazzled, she stood and walked over to the sofa bed. She stumbled over the covers, kicked off the night before.

  “Ooof,” she gasped as she fell against the arm of the sofa.

  “Easy, easy,” he drawled, stretching out an arm to help her up. “Don’t injure yourself. I really need this massage.”

  She picked up the vial of lotion they had experimented with hours earlier and squirted some into her palm. She rubbed her hands together to warm up the cream. Then, straddling his hips, she leaned over and began working her fingers into his thickly muscled upper arms. “I like my men strong.”

  “Mm hmm,” he replied.

  She put more lotion in her hands and then, impishly, squirted a zigzag on his back. She kneaded his shoulders and pressed her thumb into a knot.

  “Ow. That hurts!”

  “It’s supposed to. It’s a trigger point. I press hard and it releases. That means the muscle relaxes.”

  “Where’d you learn that?”

  “I worked one summer at Peachy’s Chiropractic Clinic. Jimmy Peachy’s a doctor.”

  “Chiropractors aren’t doctors.”

  “Of course they are.”

  “Whatever.”

  Spence relaxed under Erin’s care, and soon he was gently snoring. She tweaked his nose. “Hey, wake up. You promised to work for an hour.”

  He sat up reluctantly, and started unbuttoning her shirt. “Your turn.”

  “I don’t need a massage.”

  “Oh yes you do.” He unclasped her bra and pushed it off her shoulders. As she reached for her straps to pull it back on, Spence caught her wrists and tucked both of them behind her back.

  “Fine, keep your shirt on,” he said as he pushed the sleeves down her arms.

  “Let go of me you galoot.”

  “In a minute,” he said, tweaking her nose.

  Erin leaned back, watching him mistrustfully. Her hands were pinned behind her and his added weight kept them there. Spence held the tube over her and squeezed. A line of cucumber lotion flowed onto her skin. She sucked her breath at the cold and her belly danced. He drew lines and symbols across her breasts, circling her nipples. Dots and dashes marched up her neck and out her collar bones.

  “Just like painting,” he said. He tossed the tube aside and started rubbing the lotion into her skin, gently massaging the sides of her breasts. “There’s a lot more to painting than you know. I have to spend hours just watching the light as it changes. Just like the hours you spend correcting the commas in somebody’s manuscript. It’s a work in progress.”

  “I guess I never thought about it that way. Tell me more.”

  “Does this count towards that hour?”

  “Oh come on, do you think this is work? I’m a captive here. I can’t even scratch my nose.”

  “Here, let me.” Spence rubbed greasy fingers on her nose, leaving a glob of lotion in his wake.

  “Yeah, thanks. That helps.”

  It was hard to be flippant, though, with his fingers working magic on her skin, caressing her breasts, tickling her ribs. With his free hand, he fiddled at the button on her shorts and pulled down the short zipper. “Good. These are easy.”

  He tugged her shorts down her hips and tossed them on the floor. “Pretty,” he said, admiring her panties.

  “They better be; they’re expensive for such a scrap of material.”

  “It looks like an eye patch. Can I borrow them?”

  Erin laughed at the image of Spence, a pair of her fancy thong panties rakishly covering one eye.

  “Whatever wags your tail.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “A happy puppy wags its tail. If it makes you happy, do it.”

  “Thanks, ma’am. Think I will.”

  With that, Spence proceeded to kiss and lick Erin’s belly and the inside of her thighs. His hand continued to caress her breasts. Soon she was dragging her hands through his hair, craving his touch. Within minutes she was gasping for air as wave after wave of ecstasy raced through her. She pushed him away and rolled to her side, squeezing her knees together.

  “Go away,” she said, covering her eyes with her hands.

  “Baby, did I hurt you?”

  “No, no. I’m just so embarrassed. Spence, how am I supposed to work with you when you do this to me? I feel so exposed. You’re everywhere; you’re inside me. Can’t you see how difficult all this is?”

  “Sure I do. You turn me inside out and then you want to write about it. How is that not supposed to embarrass me?”

  Erin uncovered her eyes. Spence’s head was turned away, his jaw clenching. She reached out to stroke his cheek, softening it with her gentle touch.

  He turned and buried his face in her neck. Then he scooped her into his lap and rocked her back and forth. She wondered: Who is he comforting?

  * * *

  “How’s it going?
You two making any progress?” Mariah asked when Erin returned to the farmhouse a week later to do some laundry.

  She grimaced as she packed more clothes into the washing machine. She sprinkled powdered detergent into the cavity, closed the door and turned the knob. Leaning against the machine, she turned back to her sister.

  “That’s a good question.”

  “Well?”

  Erin flashed a grin at Mariah, and looked away. It was a guilty reaction that Mariah recognized from their childhood.

  “I appreciate your hospitality. I know I said it was going to be all work and no play. I meant it, too. That’s why I made him come here. I thought that if I had him on my own turf, I could control him. Keep him on task and get some chapters written.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “I don’t think I can control him at all.”

  “Is that so bad?”

  Erin snorted and laughed.

  “Yes, it is actually. I can’t even control myself. I can’t keep my pants on around him.”

  Now it was Mariah’s turn to laugh. Her sister, always so competent, had lost the upper hand.

  “Yikes; you’ve got a big problem.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “I could too, if I weren’t a married woman.”

  Erin laughed and whacked her sister with a dish towel.

  “Go jump Jerry’s bones. I’ll take care of Spence.”

  “Don’t think I haven’t been. You’re my inspiration.”

  * * *

  Erin and Spence were floating on the lake, a white rope connecting their inner tubes to a cooler of chilled beer. Erin’s hand dangled lazily in the water; the other tipped the beer to her lips. Corona with a lime.

  “This is heavenly.”

  Spence squinted one eye, the other covered with a pair of her panties.

  “You idiot.” She laughed. It felt so nice to be relaxing in the sun, this stunning man beside her, making jokes for her pleasure. “You are such a goof. What if Ben sees you?”

  “Arr, matey. I’m sure the lad knows what an eye patch is.”