Runaway

by Susan Sheehey

  * * *

  Skye stepped out of the bathroom dressed in her comfy flannel pajamas and sat next to Lynée on her couch. Her cinnamon apple candle burned a beautiful glow in front of them, filling the air with her favorite scent.

  “Care to share what happened with Guy tonight? You came back all flushed.” Her best friend pushed her glasses up on her nose, cupping a mug of herbal tea.

  Skye couldn’t stop the blush she felt warm her cheeks. “I kissed him. Well, he kissed me. Okay, we kissed each other.”

  “I see.” Lynée grinned. “How long were you planning that?”

  Skye shook her head. “No planning. It just…happened. Something came over me. Like sitting there, all I wanted to do was be close to him.”

  “Are you falling in love with him?”

  She smiled at the thought. “I think so. Frankly, the incident tonight with Vance might have just tipped me over the edge. I’m definitely infatuated.”

  “Really? I would’ve expected that to turn you off from men completely.”

  “That’s what I thought too. But Guy had the opposite effect.” She turned on the cushion to face her directly. “I’m sure I’m not going to explain this as well as you could. You always seem to know the right words. But…he was like gravity. Me circling him in this safe bubble. Or more like I was gravity, and he was circling me, giving me the distance I needed to still be me, but always within an arm’s reach so I wasn’t scared anymore. And he’s not flashy or showy, but always makes me smile.”

  “Not to mention he became all Tarzan over you with Vance. I’ve never seen a man run off so fast, tripping over himself.”

  “Actually, Guy had a brilliant idea for the festival.” Skye told her about the suggestion for a new booth, Whack-a-Dick.

  They both laughed. Creative societal justice from the mind of creative chivalry.

  “Guy was so awesome tonight, Lynnie.”

  “I know. Just swooped in and took control.”

  “Fearless. Like bullies are just fuel for his courage. As if nothing scares him. Wouldn’t that be nice? Not to be afraid of anything.”

  Lynée set her hand on Skye’s thigh. “You’re pretty fearless in my eyes.”

  Skye scoffed. “I serve food in a diner day-in and day-out while reading books about courageous people. What’s so fearless about that?”

  “Hey.” Lynée grabbed the decorative pillow behind her and swatted it against Skye’s shoulder. “Enough self-deprecation. You just had an amazing day. Your ex ran for the hills, and you made out with your new crush. Not to mention, you get to hang out with me.”

  Skye stole the pillow and swatted her right back on the leg. “Fine.” They laughed and finished their drinks.

  “You should get some rest.” Lynée set her mug on the coffee table and grabbed a book she brought over. Then cuddled down further on the sofa. “You have an early date with Mr. Fearless.”

  “Are you shunning me for a date with a book boyfriend? No doubt you’ll read straight through to sunrise.”

  “No, just until two or three in the morning this time. Aside from church, I don’t have anywhere else to be tomorrow.”

  Skye peered at the cover. “Is it something dirty?”

  Lynée returned a knowing grin. “I’ll let you read it when I’m finished. Give you some ideas for Guy.”

  She lowered her head to hide her blush. The thought of seeing Guy naked crossed her mind more than once. And she loved her imagination. “Lock up when you leave in the morning. Bookmark the steamy parts for me.”

  “That’s his job.” Lynée winked.

  Nine a.m. couldn’t come too soon. Reed wanted to spend the entire day with Skye, looked forward to it like a kid on Christmas morning.

  Joe would’ve called him a pussy, but he didn’t care. Reed was having a monumental week on all fronts. The investigation was moving forward at full speed, he’d thwarted a bully, and Skye had set off fireworks in his heart. It was as if she’d woken him from a long nightmare. Pulling up to her house, with her blooming fall flowers, a wreath on the door, and a frog statue on the porch steps, he knew it was gonna be a good day.

  “Hello, stranger.” She greeted him on the porch with one of her glowing smiles. She wore a bright purple long-sleeve T-shirt and snug jeans that made casual look sexy. The ones that clung tight to her voluptuous ass. His favorite. She’d worn them several times when she’d change after the diner closed and she wasn’t going straight home. It was all Reed could do to keep from staring.

  “Morning, sunshine. Ready to go?”

  “Yup. Let me grab my bag.”

  As he waited, he sauntered up the steps to inspect the flowers she’d just watered. Something vanilla filled the cooler air, coming from the ones that looked like daisies, only bigger. He’d never considered growing flowers or plants himself, not much point with his career field. But ones beautiful like this might change his mind.

  Skye returned with a canvas tote around her shoulder. Her skin was so delectable, so soft, and her eyes filled with extra shine.

  “You have a green thumb.”

  She glanced at the flowerpots and shrugged. “Another great use for books. Teaches me how to make pretty things.”

  He held out his arm for her to take it. “Mission accomplished.”

  Once in his truck, he turned on the engine. “Where are we headed?”

  “Go toward downtown, and I’ll tell you where to turn.”

  “Sounds good.”

  After the short drive, they pulled into a dirt parking lot at one of the orchards open to the public for the festival. The lot was already half full.

  They walked through the gate, and Skye leaned down to retrieve a basket. “We pay by the bushel. Let’s see if we can venture deeper, get away from the crowds.”

  She grabbed his hand, and Reed walked beside her, taking in his surroundings—rows and rows of green trees, people plucking apples from low-hanging branches, and kids directing dads to “that one there.” A few people used the scattered ladders to pick the treasures on the higher boughs. Every step heightened the apple scent and woodsy aroma.

  “Is this your first time?” she asked.

  “Yeah. What a cool thing to do on a Sunday.”

  “Let’s start here.” Skye stopped in front of a tree full of ripe red apples.

  He stood at the base, the branches reaching farther up than first glance. “Not sure it’s tall enough.” He smirked.

  She chuckled.

  The longer they picked, the hungrier he grew. He couldn’t resist. He wiped an apple with the tail of his T-shirt and took a bite of the crisp fruit. “So juicy.”

  “Hey. You can’t do that,” Skye scolded.

  “Really? But what if it’s really good?” He closed the gap between them and brought the apple to within an inch of her lips. “Try it.”

  “We could get in trouble. We’re supposed to pay for them first.” The glimmer in her eyes betrayed the fun he knew she was having.

  He brought the apple back a few inches. “Every good thief needs an accomplice. If it’s not you, then who?” He kept his face as serious as he could muster while looking down at her gorgeously curved lips.

  She stepped flush to his body and rested her hands on his waist. “You’re convincing. Lay it on me.”

  He brought the apple close. Her lips parted. Damn if he wouldn’t rather kiss them.

  She closed her lips over the ripe apple and sank her teeth in. Her eyes fluttered closed. “Mmm. Delicious.”

  He watched until her eyes opened, then he lowered to place a simple kiss over her lips.

  The apple’s juices lingered on her mouth, sweet and tangy. He licked her top lip. So savory.

  More to come. He gave her a smile. “Told you.”

  “Indeed. Now, back to work. We have more fun planned today.”

  And hopefully tonight.

  They each carried a bushel back to the front of the orchard, happy with their loot. He paid for both baskets.

&nb
sp; “What the heck am I supposed to do with all these apples?” he joked.

  “What do you think? Keep what you can eat, and I’ll take the rest to Rock Road and make stuff. This may shock you, but Ralph makes a great apple cider beef stew. I’m gonna fix some southern fried apples from my mom’s recipe. Do you know how to make apple crisp or applesauce? Or how about caramel apple pork chops or apple stuffed chicken breast, or how about pumpkin-apple muffins?”

  He slammed the tailgate of his pickup truck and grinned. “Okay, I think I got it, Bubba Gump.”

  She chuckled. “Off to town. The parade is about to start.”

  A parade. Baking apple goods. He could only smile. He felt like such a civilian, like a regular guy doing regular things. He would enjoy it while it lasted.

  Which is when it hit him. He hadn’t scanned for followers since they arrived at the orchard. He was getting comfortable; she made him comfortable.

  As much as he loved the feeling, he had to be more alert.

  Leading him by the hand, Skye found them a great spot along Main Street in just enough time for the parade. The festivities kicked off with the high school drumline—the percussion sound bouncing off the buildings. Several homemade floats wheeled past, most giving homage to the state fruit. Bicycles, tricycles, and scooters scuttled down the street by fearless children, the handles, and wheels decorated in more fall regalia. The high school band marched down the street with their flag corp and stopped half-way for several songs. Followed by the football team and cheerleaders. The local veterans’ group and the auxiliary league had their own flatbeds pulling a group of members. Miss Washington followed, sitting in the back of a black convertible Mustang. Lastly, the mayor and his wife pulled up the rear in a 1960 Lincoln Continental convertible, red with a white leather interior.

  “Freakin’ awesome.” Even Reed could appreciate the beautiful antique car’s impressive condition.

  “Nice, huh? He brings that out every year.”

  He looked at her sparkling eyes. “Are all small-town events like this?”

  “Ours is.”

  All the faces he scanned were full of smiles, none of them casting suspicious glares or searching for him. No weapons in anyone’s hands, just cotton candy sticks, and balloon strings.

  Wow, he really could get used to this life.

  “Now, let’s meander to the booths and see if we can find anything interesting for lunch.” Skye smoothed her blonde hair behind her ear. “If you’d like, I have lasagna for dinner.”

  Reed’s mouth instantly watered. “Do you grow your own basil and herbs for the sauce? After a day like today, I’d expect nothing less.”

  She smirked at his obvious jest. “And I churned my own butter after milking the cow in my backyard. Since you place additional demands on me, would you like to heat up your own microwave meal at your place instead?”

  He laughed, curling her fingers between his. He kissed her knuckles. “I’m happy to milk the cow for you next time. And churn the butter. For more time in your company.”

  “That’s much better.” She chuckled, continuing down the street, their hands tangled together.

  He could hardly believe the turn his life had taken in just a few short weeks. He had himself an invitation to dine with his favorite person, a home-cooked dinner with a beautiful, vivacious woman. Things were finally looking up in his world, after so long in darkness.

  * * *

  Skye unlocked her front door as Guy followed her in carrying her basket of apples.

  “You can set them here.” She pointed to a place out of the way in her kitchen. She would go through those later, make a few things she could freeze, then bring the rest to Rock Road.

  She turned on the oven and pulled the lasagna out of the fridge.

  Her house was an older, quaint rental owned by a family friend. Emphasis on old. She really wanted to replace the Formica countertops, but considering it was temporary, she wouldn’t bother. Renting kept her from being tied to this town any more than necessary.

  Two dark beams stretched across the high-vaulted ceilings into the living room that reminded her of a log cabin resort, cozy and grand at the same time. The island was topped with butcher block wood, inspired by a DIY television show she often watched, so at least the space had a few modern things going for it. Not to mention the clear crystal cabinet knobs she installed herself.

  Seeing Guy in her house, perusing her sanctuary, made her suddenly nervous. Anxious for what was to come but also wondering if he’d like her home. What expectations did he have? More importantly, what were her own?

  Easy, Skye. Focus on one thing at a time.

  “Nice place.” He pulled her from her stray thoughts. “Suits you.”

  “Thanks. I wouldn’t mind doing some updating, but I’m just renting.”

  She glanced at the oven, then back at Guy. “I really need to take a shower. Would you mind putting this in the oven when the thermostat dings and set the timer for an hour?”

  “No problem. Would you like me to milk the cow out back while you’re busy?” He grinned.

  Skye chuckled. “She’s sleeping right now. But there’s plenty of butter to churn in the fridge. Along with some wine and beer.” She winked. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

  She scampered back to her bedroom, leaning against the door after it closed.

  The man was actually in her house. Her heart thumped wildly, and her expectations of what would happen after the meal swirled in her mind in high-definition. She could finally have Guy all to herself. Just him and her, and she didn’t have to share him with anyone or be interrupted by customers. She’d woken early, thinking of only him.

  Sometimes she really didn’t have the ability to go slow. Right now, she didn’t want to be cautious and test the waters. Whatever came next with Guy, she wanted to high-dive into it. Yes, she’d been burned before, but life was too damn short. What if this feeling with him was real? What if he was exactly what she hoped for, the nice guy with honest intentions that lit her up inside? That wanted to dive into the deep end right beside her? What would her novels say about this level of obsession? She could barely breathe with the anticipation.

  She stripped and entered the bathroom, then twisted the shower lever to hot. She doused her body, letting the warmth envelope her. She may be getting ahead of herself, but she wanted Guy. She’d dreamt about him, fantasized about him, and simply couldn’t get him out of her mind.

  Lynée may be onto something about her being in love. She wasn’t sure about that. But whatever it was called, she wanted it. All of it. She wanted him; she could almost taste it.

  She rinsed out her conditioner, shut off the water, and reached for a towel.

  A knock came at the door.

  “Just a minute.” She wrapped a towel around herself.

  The door opened.

  She gasped.

  Guy stood before her, his eyes examining her from head to toe. “I’m sorry. I thought you said, ‘I’m finished.’” He simply stared at her, like he’d never seen a wet woman in a towel before.

  Heat flushed her cheeks.

  Should I push him out? She just stood there, waiting for him to move. To say something. To leave. Although the idea of him leaving made her heart sink.

  Finally, he moved closer. Grabbing a hand towel from the rod, he patted her cheeks and forehead dry. He grazed the towel over her lips.

  Her body involuntarily leaned into it. He could probably see her heartbeat through her skin, it was pounding so hard.

  He tilted down and grazed his lips across hers. Sweet, timid, questioning.

  Her stomach flipped over, and she stood there, soaking up his every caress.

  The towel in his hand traveled down her neck and across her upper chest. His butterfly kisses followed the path, searing along her skin in the most delicious recipe for seduction.

  She sighed, desperate for breath. Amazing how these light touches could suck all oxygen from the tiny bathr
oom and melt her into a puddle. But she didn’t want him to stop, so she didn’t dare move.

  He moved up her neck and returned to her lips. This time he kissed her deeper, passionately.

  She opened for him, their tongues melding with each other.

  Oh yeah.

  Tilting her head, she urged him deeper. Her hands rested on his chest as she leaned into him, moaning into his mouth.

  Yes, this is what fearless is for.

  He pulled back. His face was flushed, probably just as much as hers. His swollen lips were plump and ripe. “I’ve wanted to do that all day.” His twinkling eyes turned a rich chocolate brown.

  Damn. She wanted to do that all over again.

  He brought the towel to her arm and stroked it up and down, oh so slowly. His hand moved over her clavicle to her other arm, repeating the movements. “Turn around,” he whispered.

  She presented him with her back. The fogged mirror streaked with droplets of accumulated condensation obscured their reflection. She had only touch to rely on, and she would relish everything he did.

  He dried her left shoulder, swiping across her upper back, sweeping her hair over her right shoulder. With his free hand, he gave her towel a little tug.

  She bit her lip and released one corner. The bath sheet slid off her back and loosely fell across the front of her body. Her whole backside was naked, revealed to his feasting eyes. Her sex started to ache.

  He placed a kiss on her mid-back and sunk down to dry her legs.

  Surely he wouldn’t try and dry her there, would he?

  His hands crept higher, the towel slowly moving up to her ass.

  She whimpered.

  Although the hand towel went up the inside of her leg to the apex of her thighs, he didn’t linger. He placed a kiss on her ass cheek and rose.

  Skye let out the breath she’d held. The flush of heat to her face made her dizzy.

  He made another pass over her back and farther up. Wrapping the towel around her dripping hair, he squeezed.

  The pressure was exquisite.

  Suddenly, he stopped. Warmth left her body as she realized he’d stepped back.