Chapter 4
I”m not sure what I said. Raine”s laid-back demeanor goes stoic. His jaw tenses and he shifts in the driver”s seat till he”s sitting up straight, concentrating on the road even though it”s clear he knows it well enough to drive it blind.
”Mia was a friend,” I begin.
The thing is, I want to tell Raine about Mia. I want to him to know everything about me.
I can”t explain it, he just feels like a kindred spirit, like someone who”s going to understand and maybe that I can trust to keep me safe from the ghosts that haunt me.
Of course, it”s not the ghosts that I”m having problems with.
”I always wanted to be a barista. I mean, I know it”s not exactly a high-profile job and a lot of people don”t really think it”s a viable career path but...” My sigh is wistful, thinking back on that first latte, watching the barista pull the shots from the old espresso machine, the way I was awed by the way she expertly poured the foam into the ceramic mug to top it with a perfect heart.
”My aunt took me to a coffee shop when I was eight. Like-- an actual coffee shop-- where they hand tamped the grounds and steamed the milk themselves. Nothing automated. It smelled like heaven in there and the barista did latte art. I was hooked. I knew I was going to open my own cafe one day.”
”Mia came to work at the same coffee shop I was working my senior year of high school. She was a year older than me and I thought she was the coolest person in the world...especially compared to me.”
”I think you”re cool.”
I giggle at the mere thought. Raine”s a good decade older than me, and everything about him screams experienced. It”s crazy that he”s interested in simple little ol” me who”s never broken a rule or even toed the line.
”You would probably have liked Mia,” I mutter. Thinking about the bad boy beside me, and the possessive way his hand lays across my thigh like it belongs there without question, so obviously used to driving girls up to this remote mountain cabin for ”picnics by the fireplace--” if Mia was here, he”d have gone for her instead. I”m sure of it.
I shuffle my knees closer together, scooting on the leather seat to put enough space between us that I can”t feel the heat of his hard, muscled body pressed against me anymore.
Suddenly, I”m feeling insecure. Unsure about the man beside me. The same man that I”ve been swooning over obsessively for the last week, the one that I think about when I touch myself in bed at night, the one I was so eager to get in this truck with just half an hour ago when all I could think about was what he plans to do with me when we get to this cabin he”s talking about.
He”s used to a different kind of woman. Ones like Mia, that get high and go skinny dipping and are confident about what to do with boys.
”I like you, April.” Raine”s hand reaches to bring me back to his side and I can”t help but melt into the silent command as his fingers wrap around my thigh. ”You”re the only girl I want to be with. Understand?”
He waits for me to nod and his hand creeps higher, strong fingers working deeper into the space between my thighs but not reaching high enough to relieve the ache that”s growing inside me.
”Mia hated coffee,” I laugh just remembering it, ”she didn”t even like the way it smelled. She worked at the coffee shop because she was into one of the guys that worked there.
”But we hit it off and then we started hanging out sometimes. Mostly, she got me into parties that I”d never have gotten invited to without her. For a while, I thought that was fun, but...it wasn”t really for me, I guess. Mia always needed a sober driver and I wanted to make sure she was safe...”
My voice trails off, my thoughts going distant. Raine”s hand tightens but it”s not the sexy feeling like before, it”s more for comfort. It feels like he”s silently saying he understands something I haven”t even said, bringing me into the present and out of my memories.
”She was going to come work for me when I opened my cafe.” I laugh genuinely, thinking about how absurd it was. ”I don”t even know why she thought that was a good idea, but it just became our thing, you know? I guess I liked that she wanted to be my friend and it was fun to have someone to plan with.”
”So, what happened to her?”
”She died.”
I mean-- what else do you say, right?
”Sorry, baby.” Raine”s hand moves off my leg and wraps around my shoulders, pulling me close to him. It”s nice. I get that he”s trying to make me feel better, but it drags me into him so close that I pick out the individual scents of him-- the fresh, clean smell of laundry soap, combined with the warm, spicy scent of deodorant or cologne or whatever it is that makes my nerves light up with the hyper awareness of his masculinity.
I resist the urge to press my nose directly into him and squeeze my thighs together.
”Um yeah...she wanted to go out one weekend and I was kinda over it, you know? All those kids did was drink and smoke pot and-- stuff.”
Raine grins without looking down at me.
”Was it the booze, the weed, or the stuff, that you didn”t like?”
His arm tightens gently and I feel myself blushing.
”Uh well...I never really tried...stuff. So, I guess it was the drugs and the alcohol,” I confess, waiting for his reaction.
”Never?” This time he pivots his head to look down at me tucked under his arm. ”Shit, girl, how old are you now?”
”Twenty-three.”
He makes a noise that”s either a groan or a growl, I can”t really tell, but it vibrates through his entire body like a big cat purring beside me.
Silence hangs between us, heavy with unasked questions before he finally says, ”So who”s the Kay chick?”
Raine
I takethe truck up to the gold camp, driving slow along the road that loops through the main areas where the offices and first aid station are, the big mess hall that doubles as meeting space and the outdoor amphitheater where we do stage shows and campfires after dark.
April seems more than happy to take a break from her story and I can”t blame her.
The deeper she gets into her friend”s death-- a single vehicle drunk driving incident on a night that April had insisted on staying home-- and the family that dealt with their loss by projecting their grief onto April, the more I”m understanding the dark circles that shadow April”s pretty blue eyes have less to do with her early mornings and more to do with the guilt she feels about moving on with her life.
”It”s hard, you know? Death changes people. Mia”s sister just kind of re-wrote the whole story after she passed away. She got really attached to me even though we barely knew each other, and now she has this memory of her sister that”s totally different from the way I remember Mia...for a long time, I started to believe Kay”s version too.”
”And now?”
”Now it”s time to move on.” April answers softly, snuggling into my side in a way that brings something protective to life inside me.
”It”s been five years. I got a two-year degree at the local community college to help me with the business side of things, I went through a high-end barista training program. I won a national latte art competition. I researched locations for my cafe, wrote my own business plan, and got a small business loan-- I”m living my dream and Kay”s acting like I owe it all to someone who didn”t know the difference between Colombian and Ethiopian beans.
”I thought maybe if I wasn”t so close anymore, she”d finally let go but, honestly, it”s gotten worse.”
Promising to bring her back up to the camp when it”s warmer, I turn back onto the main road and head for the cabin.
Problem is, now I”ve got a lot more on my mind than just getting my face between April”s legs.
”Oh wow, is that the lake?” April leans over me to look at the lake below us out my window. ”It”s beautiful!”
”Not bad for a man-made reservoir, eh?”
Turtle Lake is part of the hydro-electric project that went in a few decades back. The power company leases the land from us for an outrageous amount of money, but it means allowing a wide easement around the perimeter that keeps the lake open to the public for recreational use.
”It looks like it belongs here.”
”It does,” I agree. I love seeing April wide-eyed with the beauty of the place.
The lower river valley is different than up at the top of the road where the hot springs are and where the Joneses run their river tours. There are still mountains all around us, but there”s more open space for thick forests and meadows that fill up with wild flowers in the spring.
”We”re going back there?” April”s hand braces against the ceiling as the truck leaves the paved road and starts up the dirt track to the cabin.
Slipping the transmission into a lower gear, I notice she”s holding her free arm across her chest. No doubt, she”s trying to keep those pretty tits of hers from bouncing out of her bra on the bumpy back road.
Makes me think about picking up a Jeep that I could wheel fast and hard down the old lane instead of babying the old Ford.
”We have a hunting cabin back in there,” I point toward the break between trees where I turn the truck in a few minutes later.
”Oh, it”s so cute.”
I try to look at the old place through April”s eyes. It”s just a shack. My dad put in a septic tank and hooked up a modern bathroom back when I was still too young to go hunting with him and my brothers. There used to be a generator, but I put in some solar a couple years ago that runs some LED lighting. That”s really about all the power the place needs.
I think I”m the only one that still comes up here these days.
There”s a couple feet of snow on the ground up here, but the driveway is still clear from when I came up yesterday to make sure the place was clean and the firewood was stocked for our date.
After helping April down from the truck, I grab the cooler out of the back and meet her on the porch.
”What”s planted in here?”
Damn, she”s cute. She”s leaning over the porch railing, peering into the raised flower beds that Dad built for Mom a million years ago-- back when they were first married, before any of us kids came along.
Memories of summer, camping up here as a kid fill my head, with the planters overflowing with Mom”s wildflowers in bloom.
I grab the hidden key off the top of the door frame and open the door.
”Nothing,” I tell her. ”No one”s touched those planters since my dad died.”
”Someone”s been working in them. Recently, from the looks of it.”
After I bring the cooler in and get it set up on the counter inside, I go back out to see what she”s talking about.
Sure enough, the soil has been worked recently, a thick top layer of mulch carefully applied over whatever”s sleeping beneath it. A few small silver-green spikes shine up in places.
”My sister.” I grunt. The stamped metal markers are a dead giveaway that Zephyr”s been up here.
”Daffodils,” April reads off a marker she pulls from one box. ”Hyacinth,” she reads off another after carefully replacing the first one.
”It”s going to be beautiful when they”re all in bloom in a few weeks.”
The way she says it makes me wish I”d thought to raid Zephyr”s greenhouse before I picked her up.
I”ll make sure to bring her flowers next time. Right now, I want to get my girl inside so I can show her more things that”ll put that dreamy look in her eyes.