Chasing Trouble (In Ashwood Book 3)

by Kinney Scott

  “Is Kent coming tomorrow?” she asked as they passed Multnomah Falls. She turned and caught a glimpse of the water cascading past lush evergreens and black basalt. Recent rains and warmer temperatures had the water churning.

  He noticed her head pan back attempting to keep the epic feature in view. “Kent will be there by noon, depending on Thanksgiving Day traffic. Have you been to The Falls before?” he asked.

  “Not since I was a kid.”

  He nodded, mentally scheduling the trip, “We will take a day off, during the week to go. It’s better without the crowds.”

  “I’d like that,” Linnea answered. He loved how easily she absorbed joy from simple things in life. Finding ways to make her happy filled a hollow spot in his soul he hadn’t known was there.

  Glancing at her profile as she looked out the passenger side window, he was thankful she knew about Grace and would be with him this season. Without trying, or perhaps without seeming to try, she eased the burden he carried. Her presence gave shelter.

  “I hope your Mom likes my apple pie.”

  “I thought you got a pumpkin pie from Maggie.”

  “I did because it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted, but I wanted to make one too,” she’d also brought along the ingredients for her mom’s sweet potato recipe.

  “She’ll love it,” he nodded and smiled. “Thanks for coming, it means a lot.”

  “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” she said honestly.

  The traffic began to snarl and slowed significantly. Rick glanced, turned on his signal and eased to the right. He’d spotted the recent fender bender in the distance and began to move over automatically.

  He pulled off on a wide spot ahead of the accident well off the shoulder and said, “Probably best if you stay in the car. I want to make sure no one needs help.”

  “Be careful,” she said. Rick checked the traffic and slid quickly from his seat. He moved close to the guardrail and jogged back to the accident scene. Another man, older with a rounded belly, joined him, having parked his large truck at an angle behind one of the damaged vehicles. He spoke a few words to Rick. The larger man moved to the vehicle with the most damage and Rick to the car in the rear. Within a few minutes, two dark blue Oregon State Patrol vehicles pulled in, lights flashing. An ambulance followed shortly by a red fire department SUV.

  Rick stood back for a moment waiting at the edge of the scene, talked briefly to the State Patrol, who took his information before Rick jogged back to Linnea. When he opened the door, a blast of sound and turbulent air gusted from a passing semi.

  As he settled she asked, “Was everyone okay?”

  “Yeah, maybe whiplash in the first car. A kid in the second was shaken up and crying, but he calmed down after his mom climbed in the back seat next to him…so he’s fine.”

  Rick checked his side mirror, pivoted his head and picked up speed along the shoulder before entering the stream of traffic. Unfazed by the experience, he drove on. Linnea watched the solid man next to her, thankful someone so steady had become a central fixture in her life.

  ***

  Leaning back from the table, Kent stretched making room for one more slice of pie. He’s started with pumpkin, but after hearing Rick moan over the apple he knew he needed another piece. “Hit me with that pie, Linn,” he begged, holding out his plate.

  “How about you, Rick - another?”

  “Not me, but I’ll have some for breakfast,” the day after Thanksgiving was his favorite, delicious leftovers with none of the work.

  Laura came back for another pass at clearing the table. She caught her son’s smile as he watched Linnea move with a load of dishes into the kitchen. He stood, balancing the platter of turkey in one hand and a bowl of half-finished mashed potatoes in the other.

  Linnea waited to follow Laura’s lead, working together to fill Tupperware with the remains of the feast. As Rick moved back for another round of glassware to clear the small dining room table, his hand brushed over Linnea’s hip, leaving a trail of heat. She turned and met his gaze. They’d been a little surprised when Laura set them up together in the guest room, but it made sense. Tonight Kent would crash on the couch.

  “Are you a Black-Friday bargain shopper?” Rick’s mom asked as she lay turkey into three different zip-lock bags.

  “My sisters are obsessed and used to drag Mom and me along. Now that I don’t feel the pressure from Brooke and Sylvia I don’t go…But you can bet they will be out there tomorrow morning.” She laughed and added, “I’m not going to miss that!”

  Laura worried about pulling Linnea away from her family in Yakima, “Thank you for coming. This is the best Thanksgiving we’ve had in years.”

  Rick turned and saw the pain in his mother’s eyes. The dread he’d avoided crept back. If Grace called, his mother would let him know but perhaps not in front of Linnea.

  The roar of a crowd from a sports channel drifted into the kitchen, “Game’s on!” Kent yelled wandering in with the last load of dishes.

  Rick took his spot at the sink, “why don’t you load the dishwasher. We can make quick work of this and get to the game in a second.” With a nod, Kent began loading plates, bowls, and silverware.

  “That meal was great. Thanks for having me over again, Laura,” Kent said as he loaded dishes.

  “Glad you’re here. I’ll send home turkey and fresh bread for your sandwiches.” Linnea knew this must be part of their own tradition. “Where’s your Dad this year?” Laura asked.

  “On a route between Chicago and Denver. I talked to him this morning. He’s trying to beat a storm that’s rolling into the Midwest. I expect he may come home for a week or so around Christmas,” he said, not knowing if it was true. Lately, he saw his Dad less and less.

  Linnea grabbed a fresh cloth to wipe the dining room table. Rick followed, needing to catch her alone. “Do you miss your family babe?” he asked, worried she’d given up too much this weekend. She shook her head, no, and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling his body forward. Loving the way she fit, he lowered his lips to her temple.

  “I’m having a terrific time, here…with you,” Linnea shared honestly, longing to tell him that he felt like family, more than anyone ever had. She tipped her head up to steal a quick kiss, while Laura and Kent still talked in the kitchen.

  A loud roar rose from the television, and Kent dashed by unfazed by the PDA in the dining room. “Gotta see who scored…in the game I mean,” he chuckled as he passed.

  Linnea’s mouth dropped open a bit. Rick stole one more kiss and followed Kent to the living room. His loud groan protested what he saw on the screen.

  “Hey, Linn! Can you bring us a couple beers?” Kent yelled from the other room. She heard a smack and then Kent’s response, “What? She’s still up!”

  “No problem,” Linnea walked into the now empty kitchen and pulled two bottles from the refrigerator.

  Just outside the door, she spotted Laura, staring at the dark sky. With her arms wrapped around her body, she watched a cascade of leaves blow from a sprawling maple tree across the alley. Linnea gave the guys their beers and went back to talk to Laura, but she was gone. Perhaps this was for the best; she wouldn’t have known what to say to ease her pain.

  ***

  A siren woke Rick. He inhaled Linnea’s sweet scent and toyed with a silken curl of her hair that lay across her pillow. Her soft ass was pressed against his arousal, steeled before he woke. Struggling to piece together his dream, he began to toy with the silky strap of her nightgown.

  When she modeled the new modest cotton nightgown before the trip he’d nearly burst from his jogging shorts. The white lace concealed her skin, but not her shape, and what it did reveal was nothing but virginal fantasy. Using the tip of his finger, he slid the strap from her shoulder and caressed her soft skin.

  Linnea didn’t wake, only squirmed against his body. Bracing his hand on her hip, he pulled her snug against his length. The spot on her shoulder where his finger h
ad touched deserved a kiss. He nibbled his way to her neck.

  “Mmm, that feels good,” she moaned. “What time is it?”

  “A little before six.”

  “It’s so dark,” she whispered, trying to be quiet.

  As his hand moved down to ease the nightgown up, she added, “Your Mom, she’s in the next room.”

  “We’ll be quiet,” he whispered and eased away her panties, slipping a finger inside. “Ah, babe. You’re so wet.” Her hips angled seeking deeper penetration.

  Plying her with kisses, he moved his hand away. He slid her panties down and eased his boxers enough to free himself. Holding her hip he teased the tip of his cock inside. The glorious glide stretched her and hit a spot that pulled a silent gasp from her throat. She slid her hips slightly to gain a little more internal friction from their tightly spooned position.

  “So tight - God, I’m not going to last,” Rick whispered at her neck. His hand slid forward along her hip to connect with her bundle of nerves. Coupled with his touch her slide accelerated sending currents of friction straight to his cock. Desperate gasps escaped her lips as she found her release. The climax pulsed from her body to his, a message of silent pleasure.

  ELEVEN

  Sneaking through the nearly dark house, she hurried to shower. Rick slid into the bathroom while she dried her hair and put on mascara and lip-gloss. By the time she made her way to the kitchen, Laura had already put on a pot of coffee.

  His mother smiled, “sleep well?” she asked not looking up from the cookbook on the counter. Linnea used the chill of the refrigerator to soothe the heat in her face while she grabbed creamer from the rack inside the door.

  “Yes, slept great,” she answered, her voice too high and too strained.

  Laura seemed not to notice, turned to the next page of her cookbook and glanced up as Rick entered the room. His move to grab a coffee mug pinned Linnea to the counter and he kissed the spot on her neck where she still felt the abrasive heat from his whiskers.

  “Morning Mom” he smiled, caught by her with his lips on Linnea’s neck.

  She chuckled, thrilled to see her son so happy, “Do you plan on showing Linnea Portland today?”

  “Thought I might,” he nodded. “Do any of those Christmas light displays kick off this early?”

  “Yes. The Grotto and Zoo Lights both start today,” Laura said, with fond memories of their annual family trips to those displays.

  “You want to join us, Mom?” he asked. Her bright smile answered enthusiastically before she said yes.

  After a quiet day around the house, eating leftovers, and watching football the four climbed into Laura’s Honda and made their way to the zoo. The traffic was surprisingly good, and a light rain kept the crowds to a manageable crush. Kent and Rick rushed ahead to grab a place in line and buy tickets.

  “Did your mom and dad bring us here with Grace when we were in grade school?” Kent asked recalling the memory.

  “Yeah, we went nearly every year. I thought Linnea might like it and we needed to get out of the house,” he shrugged.

  They stood in line behind a family with a double stroller holding twins dressed in pink. Behind Kent, an older couple wrapped in matching scarves held hands.

  “You okay?” Kent asked quietly. He’d supported Rick through many holidays and knew his friend was waiting for that phone call. The call that would send him in search of his sister to deliver her annual box of winter supplies.

  “Yeah. I’m good. I want Linnea to have fun. She deserves to enjoy the holidays. I don’t want her to regret giving up time with her family.”

  Kent shook his head, “Let her in, Rick. She’ll only regret this if you shut her out.”

  Ricks nod didn’t look convincing. They made their way to the front of the line, and bought four tickets, paying extra for the ride on the train around the zoo.

  The long path around the zoo wound through hundreds of bright displays of leaping frogs, flying eagles and illuminated orca swimming through the trees. Even bundled in layers, the cold and damp began to seep in. Kent spotted a stand selling cocoa and bought tall paper cups of liquid heat for everyone.

  Carefully holding her cocoa, Linnea slid down the wooden seat leaving room for Laura on the train. Rick’s hip met hers as she snuggled close absorbing some of his intoxicating warmth.

  “I’m glad it stopped raining, but now it feels colder,” Laura observed as the train filled with families.

  “It does. After walking through all the lights I’m frozen completely through, but this cocoa helps,” Linnea agreed.

  Rick caught his mom’s faraway stare aware of her worry about Grace on an icy night like this.

  Kent leaned in to catch Linn’s attention. “What’s planned for the taproom this month?”

  “We’ve already launched our winter ale, I’m glad that’s out of the way. There’s a private event for the fire department. Rick and I will start pulling that together as soon as we get home. All month we have the canned food drive. Wade and Seth will put the tree up next weekend and will help me string the lights. I hope I’ve ordered enough decorations.”

  Kent whistled, “Wow that sounds insane.”

  “I love it!” Linnea smiled. “The busy schedule distracts me from the dark and cold. I wish we could leave the Christmas tree up in the taproom until Valentine’s Day,” she chimed.

  “Sounds like a fire hazard,” Rick teased, intentionally growling like a Grinch. The thought of Valentine’s Day so soon after Christmas made his palms sweat. He still hadn’t found the perfect gift for Linnea.

  “Rick, you always loved stringing lights when you were a kid. Your cabin would look fantastic with icicle lights hanging from the eaves.” His mother encouraged.

  He hadn’t thought about decorating his home. In the past, he didn’t have a reason to bother and wondered if Linn expected a tree.

  His mother continued, “Linnea, if you need to buy more ornaments while you’re in Portland, I’d love to go with you!”

  “Really? That would be fantastic and it will save Rick from holiday shopping.”

  “Please, go with her, Mom. I’ll clean your gutters or fix a leaky faucet…anything.” Rick begged past a teasing smile.

  Linnea shot Rick a look, “shopping isn’t that bad.”

  Rick shook his head, “Yeah, babe. It is.” Her glance to Kent for support got Linnea nowhere.

  Kent shrugged, “I’m with Rick on this one. Shopping, during the holidays…sucks.”

  Ignoring the Grinches to her left, Linnea focused her holiday cheer on Laura. They dove into a detailed discussion about decorating the taproom. Rick listened as long as he could until they rambled on about the effects of white lights versus multicolor and the perfect shade of red for the taproom.

  Finally, the train lurched forward and began to move. Linnea looped her arm through his and half-listened as the guys talked about injury replacements for fantasy football.

  The brightly decorated train clattered through the woods surrounding the zoo, past jumping bright reindeer, a yawning crocodile, and flocks of brightly lit parrots. A massive blue, purple, and green peacock dominated the station when they returned a half-hour later. Linnea stood slowly, the cold, the rocking train, and the hard bench leaving her stiff.

  Rick pulled her close. “Tired?” he asked as she leaned into him.

  “Yeah. Once we get moving I’ll bounce back,” she added with a tired smile

  Laura felt the same, but her fatigue was laced with worry, “Time to head home. I put turkey soup in the crock-pot. It should be ready by the time we get back.”

  “Sounds great mom,” Rick said as they crossed the lot and climbed into the car.

  Kent gave the spot in front to Laura and sat in back with Linnea while Rick drove. He planned to leave for Ashwood tonight, but not before filling up on hot homemade turkey soup.

  TWELVE

  Before her son pulled into the garage, Laura asked, “Rick could you dash out and get the mail.
I forgot to pick it up this morning.”

  “No problem,” he said, climbing from the car after he parked.

  At the end of the drive, Rick grabbed the mail and holiday flyers. The intoxicating scent of warm turkey soup filled the house as he walked inside with the bundle of mail trapped in his hand. Rick sorted absentmindedly through the pile.

  “If you find any Christmas cards, let me know,” his mother called sliding bread into the oven.

  A name caught Rick’s attention.

  Grace Palmer.

  The envelope looked official, with his sister’s name displayed in bold type through a cellophane window. Taking a few steps into the dimly lit dining room, he slid his finger under the flap to open it.

  Struggling to focus on the document, he thought at first his vision had blurred, but Rick realized that his trembling hands distorted the words in front of him. It was a bill, gone to collections, seeking payment for a birth.

  Rick blinked trying to find a date, anything to give him a timeline. Coming down the hall with his duffle, Kent spotted Rick holding a paper in his hand - his body bent, and his limbs shaking. The small duffle slid from Kent’s hands and thumped on the floor. From the look on Rick’s face, Kent knew he wouldn’t be returning to Ashwood tonight. Only a message from Grace could create that grim expression.

  A few paces led him to Rick. “Let me take a look,” he said when he spotted the name Grace Palmer on the address line.

  “Jesus,” Kent muttered - half prayer and half shock.

  “She had a baby,” Rick whispered. He needed to sort through his scrambled thoughts and find a way to soften the blow. Thank God, I’m home. Thank God, I opened the letter.

  “Linn, could you and Laura come into the living room for a second,” Kent said around the corner into the kitchen. Rick was already moving toward the worn recliner in the living room.

  “Sure, what’s up?” Linnea asked, coming in with a dishtowel still in her hand.