4. Missy #2
If I didn’t have these cameras inside of her house, I’d be a bear.
As it is, it takes every ounce of my self-control not to sweep into the rental and demand she pack her bags so she and Daisy can come live with me.
It’d be a tight fit in the tiny hunting cabin on the edge of Aunt Dorothy’s property, but Missy would be under my roof where I can spoil her day and night.
The night passes uneventfully. Well, uneventfully in that no trouble showed up on Missy’s doorstep. But I got an eyeful when she came home. She stripped down to her panties and tank top while fiddling with the AC unit.
I feel like an idiot for not realizing that it was giving her problems. That’s why she wanders around the place half-dressed. I make a mental note to get that fixed even if it means I miss seeing so much of her beautiful skin.
She goes through the house like a tornado, cleaning everything in sight. She talks to Daisy the entire time she does, pausing sometimes to play a baby brainiac soundtrack that’s supposed to be good for little ones to listen to.
I watch her work, marveling that the woman is never still. If she were at my cabin, I’d tie her to the bed and lick her until she was a quivering mess. Then I’d crawl under the sheets and cuddle her until she fell into a peaceful sleep.
When she and Daisy do manage some shuteye, I relax.
I won’t sleep. I’ve taken to grabbing shut-eye when she’s at the diner.
I’ve already talked to Ernie and Lorna. I paid them a visit and told them that trouble was following my girl.
They’re keeping an eye on her, and they’ll call if anyone shady shows up.
The next morning, I follow Missy to work. I wait until she and Daisy are safely inside before I drive to Aunt Dorothy’s farm so I can grab a change of clothes from the hunting cabin where my stuff is. I haven’t told her about Missy yet, but she probably knows already.
I stop in at the barn, hoping I can catch my aunt in the middle of her chores. The woman works this farm from sun-up to sundown. I’ve never heard her complain about the back-breaking work.
The familiar scent of hay, manure, and horse hits my nostrils. Up until I met Missy, I’d say that smell was home. Now, it’s coconut body wash and pink rose shampoo with a hint of baby formula underneath.
I follow the sound of Russell’s voice to the tack room. He’s the foreman. He’s been with Dorothy for years. Probably decades at this point.
Russell is talking, frustration bleeding into his tone. It makes his thick Southern accent more pronounced. “Take it easy. Just for one day.”
“What’s going on?” I ask as I step into the tiny room. Aunt Dorothy turns to me, and my knees threaten to buckle. She’s got a black eye. For a moment, I’m six years old and listening as Mom tells me that if anyone asks, she tripped down the stairs.
Dorothy must read the alarm on my face because she pats her leg that’s encased in a black walker boot, the kind the doctor gives you after you’ve sprained something. “Met the business end of a horse.”
I glance at Russell, amazement overtaking my concern for a moment. “And you got her medical attention?”
She shoots him a dirty look as he says, “She was knocked unconscious. I loaded her into my truck before she came back to.”
“And I’m docking your pay for it, you old coot.”
He looks unconcerned. “Then I’m taking back the world’s best boss pen I got you.”
She frowns. “You never got me one of those.”
“Well, I definitely won’t now,” he answers. The familiar bickering between them makes me feel warm inside. I grew up listening to these two argue. It wouldn’t surprise me if Russell arranged for them to get matching burial plots so he could spend his afterlife annoying my gruff aunt.
She grunts. “Go, get that fence fixed. Griffin will help me with the chicken coop.”
I steel myself against my nerves as I climb into the utility vehicle.
I’ve been on a few high-speed chases, but there’s nothing quite like Aunt Dorothy.
She’s the type of driver that they make traffic laws for.
She shouts to be heard over the sound of the whipping wind.
“Don’t you have a class or something today? ”
I shouldn’t be surprised she knows about the conference coming up in Asheville. Even when I was a kid, she seemed to know everything. “It’s supposed to be tomorrow. But I’m thinking of staying around for a few more days. I’ll catch the training next year.”
“I didn’t know mandatory classes worked that way.”
I keep my mouth shut. I don’t want to be away from Missy and Daisy.
She must be reading my mind. “She’ll be fine, you know.”
The moment she says the words, guilt rushes through me. Maybe if I’d been there that night my dad got so angry. Maybe if I’d tried harder to get those As in school that he was always on me about. “You can’t know that.”
“No, but you will. Rumor is, the cameras around her place feed right to your phone. I bet you don’t miss it when a butterfly flits through her yard.”
She takes a turn so sharply that I grip the side of the vehicle, clinging to it. Driving with her gives me a new appreciation for what a lizard on the roof of a car goes through.
I don’t say anything again because I’m not about to tell my aunt I have a special sound set on my phone for Missy’s place. I do get notified when the local stray cat runs through her yard or when the raccoons come out at night to inspect the trash can for potential meals.
“You’ll only be gone the one night. Nothing bad will happen. Besides, I’ve already added a crib to the guest room. You bring them for Sunday dinner one of these days.”
I blow out my breath. She’s right. I need to take the classes. Then maybe I can sweet talk Missy into a date when I get back.
The next day feels like it lasts fifteen years. I have to force myself not to fiddle with my phone. Why didn’t I install cameras in Ernie’s Diner? Huh, maybe someone here can help me hack into his. Does he even have any?
Shaking off the thoughts, I get through the final class presentation and breathe a sigh of relief. I gather my things and head to the hotel. Some of the guys are getting together for drinks after this, but I’m not interested.
Instead, I take the elevator up to my room. In the hall, my phone dings. Even though it’s not the alarm tone for Missy’s rental, I still reach for it. I swipe to see a text message from Missy. It’s a picture of Lorna’s peach cobbler.
Missy: It’s the last slice. peach emoji
Me: I’m hungry for something different. kitty emoji
Missy: Too bad you’re not here. We could both taste something sweet. tongue emoji
Me: Let me take you on a proper date tomorrow, then we’ll share dessert.
Three dots appear then disappear on my phone. When the longest two minutes of my life have passed with me pacing the hotel hallway like a lunatic, I text her again.
Me: I want to see you.
Missy: I’d like that.
Me: Is that a yes?
Missy: Only if you promise to share the last piece of cobbler with me.
Me: Done.
I can’t help grinning like a fool. I check my watch. I’m too wired to possibly sleep, and I want to be near Missy. Call me crazy or obsessed, but I’m in love with this woman already.
It only takes me twenty minutes to grab my bag and get through the checkout process. My excitement builds with every passing mile on the road. I’m two miles outside of her place when I decide maybe I’ll stop by.
My phone rings, and I route it through my truck’s speakers. Missy’s voice comes on the line, but it’s wrong. She’s speaking in a whisper, terror evident in every word. “Someone is trying to break in.”