Chapter 33
Soft Launch into Motion
FIONA
I glance at my watch. It’s nine-forty-five. Ewan said Tre’s hearing is scheduled to start at ten.
Soon, I think, over the voice that’s been ceaselessly chattering in my head, telling me that what I did wasn’t enough. He’ll be out soon. It has to be enough. And not just so that I can get a decent cup of coffee again.
“How long has this been present?” I ask as I rotate Ellen Pangow’s arm.
“A while, but it was only the one spot near my elbow at first. Now it’s on my inner arm too, so I thought I should have someone look at it. It itches a lot. I’ve been trying not to scratch it, but…”
“Do you remember when you first noticed it?”
“I think it was at the end of last year. Around Thanksgiving? I know I should’ve come sooner, but I was busy, and…” She fidgets, and the exam paper covering the table crinkles beneath her.
“You’re here now. Does anyone in your family have psoriasis?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Any joint pain or stiffness?”
“No. Just the itchy skin. That’s part of why I kept putting off making an appointment.”
“Okay.” I look up at her with a wan smile.
“Well, good news, bad news. Congratulations, you’re the first in your family, apparently.
You’ve got bragging rights. That’s the good news, unfortunately.
Bad news is that this is psoriasis, and psoriasis is a chronic immune-mediated condition, so you’re stuck with it, but the symptoms are typically very manageable.
“I would like to get you started on a topical steroid to treat the plaques on your skin—that’s what these are called,” I say, tapping her arm.
“Then, in about four weeks, I’d like you to make another appointment so we can see how that’s working.
If it works, that’s great. If not, we can discuss alternative treatments. ”
The closest dermatologist is over an hour away, and he probably won’t be able to fit her into his schedule for months. Plus, her case is uncomplicated enough that I should be able to treat her here.
“I’ll call the prescription in to your pharmacy, and you can make a follow-up appointment for next month with Carol before you leave.
Natalie will be back in shortly to confirm your pharmacy details and answer any questions you might have right now,” I tell her as I stand.
“But feel free to call the office if you have any other concerns prior to your next appointment, alright?”
She nods, and then I’m out the door.
My day is fully booked, but even if it weren’t, it’s not like I could’ve gone to the courthouse.
What I want doesn’t really matter because the last thing I need is for suspicion to fall on me now.
I don’t know what I’m going to do. How are Tre and I supposed to be in a relationship if I can’t come up with a way for us to be together that doesn’t automatically raise everyone’s eyebrows?
I sigh as I step into the next exam room, resolving to let my subconscious wrestle with the problem, because I’ve been turning it over like a Rubik’s Cube all morning and I’ve gotten nowhere.
It’s two hours later when Carol says, “Dr. Carson?” as I’m walking between exam rooms.
“Yes?” I change my path to head toward the reception desk so she doesn’t have to shout.
“Tre called about twenty minutes ago! He got out of jail. Apparently, they finally realized he couldn’t have done it!”
“Oh, okay. That’s good,” I force myself to say neutrally, despite the relief washing over me.
“Yes! Anyway, he said that you didn’t settle your tab last time you were in the diner and he wanted to know if you might stop by sometime today to do so.”
“I paid…” I glance at my watch as realization hits me. It’s almost noon. “Can you call him back and tell him I’ll stop in at twelve-thirty to settle up?”
“Yes, of course. I’m sure he must be dealing with quite the headache…” Carol continues talking as I consider the merits of trying to pass Tre a note.
The door is unlocked, but Betty’s is dark when I walk through the rear entrance. And silent. There’s always noise.
“Hello? Tre?” I call out to the empty space.
A door to my left opens, and I jump. Tre is standing there, backlit by the light from the office, with a smile on his face, his blond hair seeming to glow.
He’s here. Out, I think as I stand frozen, watching him approach.
He steps into my space before stopping and reaching around me to flip the lock on the door.
Then one hand is on my hip and the other is sliding along my jaw, into my hair, as he presses me against the wall, his mouth on mine.
Something more than desire—need, I distantly realize—floods through me, and I slide my arms around him, hands slipping under his shirt.
He moans as my fingertips brush across the skin of his lower back, and his hand tenses on my hip.
I don’t make the decision consciously, but the next thing I know, my hands are running up his body, over his ribs, raising his shirt of their own volition. I glance toward the front of the diner as our lips break apart, and I pull his shirt off.
As soon as Tre’s eyes return to my face, he follows my gaze. “No one can see us,” he murmurs as his fingertips brush along my cheek. “Promise.”
“Okay.” I nod. “I don’t have long, though. I have to be back by one. Patients.”
“Got it,” he says, his hands dropping to the hem of my shirt. Air moves across my stomach as he tugs it over my head, and desire ripples through me, settling between my legs.
“Condom?” I moan as Tre’s hands slide over my ass, and he lifts me, pinning me against the lightly textured wall with his body. For once, I didn’t bring any. This isn’t how I was expecting this visit to go, but it seems like maybe we both need this.
“Yes,” he answers, and I wrap my legs around him as his mouth lands on my boob. His teeth find my nipple through the mesh of my bra, and I arch into him. The whole thing is going to be soaked, and I can’t bring myself to care.
I twine my hands in his hair. It’s so soft, I think as I let his tongue and teeth work away the worry of the past several days.
All too soon, he’s sliding me down his body, setting me on my feet. “God, I love that look on your face,” he says, sounding breathless.
“What look? And will you please fuck me already?”
“That look. That look that screams, ‘Will you please fuck me already?’ louder than your words ever could,” Tre says, and I kick my shoes off as he fumbles with the button on my pants.
As soon as he’s got it undone, I shove them down and kick them away. Then I grab his hand and drag it under the thong I’m wearing, between my legs, as I stare into his silvery-grey eyes. His lips part, and his breathing accelerates as his fingers dip into me slightly.
“Tre,” I gasp as my hips twitch involuntarily. “Do you feel how wet I am?” I demand, releasing his hand so I can get his pants off.
He nods, but says nothing, and his eyes stay locked on mine as his fingers continue teasing me, and my breath comes in ragged gasps.
When I wrap my hand around his dick, there’s a large drop of pre-cum beaded at the tip.
My entire body tightens at the realization of how much he wants this—how much he wants me.
His thumb glides across my clit as his fingers finally thrust all the way into me, and my knees go weak, my legs turning to jelly.
“I’m so glad you’re out,” I whisper with a mixture of relief and desire flooding my voice as I stroke the smooth skin along his shaft. “I could do this every day.”
It’s not until Tre responds, “Could you?” in a husky murmur that I realize what I’ve said.
“I… Will you please fuck me already?”
His eyes stay locked on me, and momentarily I fear he might force me to answer his question, but then his fingers slide out of me with agonizing slowness—I miss them as soon as they’re gone—and he bends to retrieve a condom from his pants pocket.
I strip off my underwear, watching as he unrolls it. My heart is racing as anticipation builds. Then his hands are moving over my ass once more, dipping to my hamstrings, lifting me into the air. I guide him into me, my back pressing more firmly against the wall as he sinks deeper.
“Yes,” I groan, quivering around him as his cock flexes.
“I didn’t think I’d ever get to be with you again,” Tre says softly as he holds me there, buried deep inside me, the heat of his body flowing into mine. His eyes are pinning me in place as much as his body, and the vulnerability in his words is crystal clear. I can’t not respond.
“I told you I would’ve gotten you out if I needed to,” I remind him, bringing my hands back to his hair.
He nods before pulling away just enough to thrust into me again, and pleasure begins rapidly building. I’m not going to last long, but I don’t think he will either.
“I’m almost there,” I warn raggedly after no more than a couple of minutes have passed.
“I know. Me too.”
Tre’s mouth finds mine right before the orgasm hits me, erupting outward from my core as my hips buck against him, my clit fluttering and my cunt squeezing his dick until it feels like every nerve ending in my body is overwhelmed with sensation.
As soon as it begins to slow, Tre is coming and his thrusts lose all sense of rhythm, which pushes me to the edge again.
It’s not until he pulls out of me and sets me down some indeterminable amount of time later that he says, “We should talk.”
I glance at my watch. Good thing everyone always expects doctors to be late.
I have to get back for my next appointment, and I have no idea what to say. “Yeah. I know, and thanks for waiting to say that, but I don’t have time right now.”
“Okay, when?”
“I’ll let you know,” I tell him as I gather my clothes from the floor. “I really am glad you’re out.”
When I walk into Betty’s on Sunday morning, the place is slammed. It seems like half the town is crammed into the confines of the diner, and I’m not sure if it’s because they’re hoping there’ll be another showdown between Tre and the sheriff, or if they’re simply here to show support.
I suppose there’s no reason both things can’t be true.
As I stand there, looking at the crowd, I consider turning around and leaving. But there’s no one I recognize from the sheriff’s department or the ATF, so I don’t.
I’ve been avoiding Tre all weekend, trying to figure out a way to untangle the Gordian Knot I’ve created.
Since he was arrested, it’s even more obvious that we can’t just start dating.
I can’t just ‘change my mind.’ Both Ewan and Kyle worked out what had happened pretty quickly.
It’d be stupid to assume that other people wouldn’t do the same.
And even if all they’d do is wonder about it, I’d rather never give them the idea.
Because while they can’t charge Tre again, there’s nothing stopping them from going after me, except for the fact that I am, at least currently, a totally implausible suspect.
And if we suddenly make it known that we’re…
together two days after he’s been released from jail.
Well. I’ll go from being a ‘totally implausible suspect’ to ‘most likely to have bombed construction sites’ overnight.
I want Tre, and I want to be with Tre, but I’m not an idiot.
I still don’t have a perfect plan, but I’ve got something that might work. Maybe.
He’s at the grill. Like usual.
Unlike usual, I ignore the first table that opens up.
And then the second one along the rear wall where I’ve been sitting in recent weeks, waving the couple waiting behind me forward, telling them I’ll wait for a spot at the counter since it’s busy and I’m alone.
Finally, fifteen minutes later, an older man at the counter near where Tre’s working abandons his seat.
I slide onto it before the space is even cleared.
After another handful of minutes passes, Tre turns with a plate full of steak and eggs.
He freezes—plate precariously angled in one hand—when he sees me, and I smirk.
When he stays frozen for a second too long, I raise my eyebrows and tilt my head in question, and he springs back into motion.
He moves away from me, down the counter, and sets the plate in front of a man around my age.
They exchange a few words, and then Tre is standing across from me, gathering up the previous customer’s used dishes.
“Hey Fiona. You’re… here,” he says, stating the obvious.
“Yes. Can I get a cup of coffee?”
“Sure.” He dumps the dishes into a bus bin and washes his hands. Then he grabs a mug from the shelf and fills it with coffee. “I meant here at the counter.” His fingers brush against mine as he passes me the mug.
“I know. Call it a soft launch,” I say, my eyes sliding past his shoulder to the wall he so recently had me pinned against.
His eyes track mine, and he smirks knowingly. I wonder how much time he’s spent staring at that wall, thinking about—
“Does this mean…?”
“We’ll talk. You should make an appointment at my office.” I take a sip of coffee.
“An appointment? For?”
“Your shoulder. I saw the way they wrenched it when they arrested you. It was the same one you hurt earlier this year, right?”
“Oh. Yeah,” he says, rolling his left shoulder. “I’ll do that. Now that you mention it, it’s been kind of achy lately.”