30. River
river
. . .
crossed lines
Rue falls asleep before I reach my front door. By the time I lay her down in her own bed, she’s dead weight and dreaming. I watch her sleep, imagining myself a guard against bad dreams, until the night is deep and even the crickets sleep.
I don’t want to leave her, but I’m scared of what might happen if I stay, of what I might see in her eyes when she wakes.
Gooseflesh ripples over my naked body as I step outside. I press the push-button lock on her doorknob so it secures behind me, then shut the door quietly.
Halfway across the porch, I glance into the clearing and come to an abrupt stop.
Lenny stares back at me.
The coyote sits in the middle of the path, her face and chest silver in the moonlight. I’m not sure what it says about me that the sight of her is reassuring rather than alarming.
She lifts her snout and sniffs, then rises to her feet with a yawn. After a final, pointed look in my direction, she lopes into the woods.
I drag myself inside.
Despite the turmoil in my heart and head, when I crawl into bed a few minutes later, I fall asleep quickly.
I dream of a storm and Rue calling for me from far away.
“I’m right here, River! Right here!” Gale-force winds blind me.
Blade-like hail slices my skin into bloody ribbons.
Lightning slams into the ground, opening steaming fissures, while concussive thunder brings me repeatedly to my knees.
I can’t control any of it, can’t fight it or escape it.
I can’t find Rue.
No matter how hard I try, how loudly I scream her name or how many times I drag myself back up, her calls grow more and more faint. Until there’s nothing left but nature’s fury.
Alone, I come undone.
“River! Wake up, damn you.”
My eyes snap open, the shout trapped in my throat coming out as a cough. Rue leans over me, one hand braced on the mattress near my shoulder. Sunlight spills through the window behind her, turning her hair into a flaming halo.
I blink until her features come into focus.
Her eyes are pinched with worry as they scan my face, her bottom lip white beneath the press of her teeth.
For a moment, I think she’ll reach for me.
But she straightens and steps back, and the fingers I want on my skin tug instead at the hem of her T-shirt.
“You were shouting my name, and your door was unlocked, so…” She smiles faintly. “Glad to see my doppelg?nger wasn’t murdering you after all.”
I drag a hand down my face. “Sorry.”
“Sounded like a bad nightmare.”
I sit up, tugging the sheet to keep my junk covered, and swallow the bitter remnants of terror.
“Yeah.”
When I don’t offer anything else, a veil falls over her expression. I hate it, but what’s the alternative? Telling her I had a heavily symbolic dream that may or may not have been a premonition thanks to some witchy Welsh bloodline on my mother’s side of the family?
Maybe Rue sees or senses my inner conflict because as suddenly as it rose, the veil falls. Her eyes soften.
“Was I plucking your nut hairs or something?”
I grunt a laugh. “Ah, no. You were in danger, and I… I couldn’t find you.”
“Ew. Like I’d ever need a man to save me.”
My laugh finds less resistance this time, and Rue grins.
“Now that you’re awake, you might as well get dressed and walk with me to breakfast. I’ll buy you a free omelet.”
The last of my nightmare’s claws retract, and I finally see her without the distortion of dread. She’s not looking at me like she hates me. There’s no regret or disgust. Just sparkling eyes and a familiar wry smile.
My heart skips a beat that my cock makes up for by twitching.
“I was afraid you’d want nothing to do with me after last night.”
Freckles converge as she wrinkles her nose. “I’m going to pretend you’re not implying I’m either an immature loser or horrible at blow jobs. If it’s the second, I’d like to see you deep throat a ginormous wiener for the first time.”
I’m on my feet before I decide to stand. Rue’s eyes round, dragging a line of fire down my body before she squeaks and covers her face with her hands.
“Whoa, okay. You’re naked. Wasn’t expecting that. Although in retrospect, maybe the clues were there.” A blue eye peeks at me from between two fingers. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Smiling.”
“Nope.”
“Then at least put some clothes on. It feels like there’s a third person in the room with us.”
Chuckling, I move to the dresser and grab a pair of athletic shorts. As I step into them, I glance back and catch her staring at my ass.
“See something you like?”
She crosses her arms over her chest and sniffs dismissively, like pretending annoyance will negate the pink of her cheeks. So adorable.
I pull a T-shirt over my head as I stroll toward her. “You made me come so hard I cried, Rue. I think it’s safe to say you’re the opposite of horrible at blow jobs.”
“So you thought I was an immature loser who’d think less of you for having feelings? That’s even more insulting.”
I shake my head, my smile fading. “I was afraid you’d regret what we did. The line we crossed was a pretty major one.”
“I don’t regret it.” Her delicate throat moves. “We’re adults, right? Last night doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
A sinking sensation races down my midline. “It wasn’t a big deal for you?”
“No. I mean, yes. For fuck’s sake, of course it was a big deal.” She throws her hands up. “All I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to worry about me expecting… you know.”
“I don’t know, actually. What would you expect?”
Her eyes ignite. “Reciprocation!”
Relief punches a short laugh from my chest. “If you think I’m not dying to bury my face in your—”
Three loud bangs make us both jump. I spin toward the sound, quickly stepping in front of Rue as footsteps clomp toward the bedroom.
“Howdy-ho! Anyone home? Door was open!”
“Oops,” whispers Rue.
Before I can intercept Kirk, he appears in the doorway. Twinkling eyes bounce from me to Rue and back.
“Hey, kids. Sorry to interrupt this special moment, but I’m in a bit of a bind.”
“What could you possibly want at”—I glance at the clock on the wall—“eight in the damn morning?”
“I can’t find my wheels. Have you seen ’em?”
Rue gasps. “You lost the golf cart?”
“Yeppers. Left it parked near the Lodge last night and poof, gone this morning.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “And you think, what? That I’m a closet locksmith and made a copy of the key yesterday?”
“No, no, nothing like that.” He scratches his cheek. “Between you and me, this isn’t the first time it’s run off.”
Rue grabs my waist and smothers a giggle between my shoulder blades. Time stops, then resumes with an explosion of warmth in my chest.
Kirk grins and waggles his eyebrows.
I sigh. “Give me a minute to brush my teeth and put on some shoes.”
He salutes me and retreats. I turn to Rue, who looks up at me with laughter in her eyes.
“This isn’t over, Princess.”
She gulps.
I walk away, smiling.