Chasing Shade Part 6

Chapter 9.

It felt like for ever until two o'clock. More than once he thought his watch had stopped. So he checked the time on his ageing cell. Same time.

Everything he did, Archie kept having flashes of her. Them. Being inside her. When he pulled the debris from under Mrs Harris's trailer and rousted a couple of opossums, he was daydreaming about Betsey. And felt d.a.m.n lucky once he saw them up close that they hadn't ripped him to shreds while his mind wandered.

When he fixed the sagging wooden counter in the vending machine enclosure he was, in his mind, kissing her.

A worm of worry worked through him as the day wore on. Was he going too fast? Feeling too much? Was it even possible to feel this close to a person after such a short time?

He sat, a few hours into his day, with a cup of coffee and a bag of chips from the vending machines. He really did need to go to the d.a.m.n grocery store. He had enough money to get him by until he started to get paid by Charlie Booth. 'When you start having waking wet dreams about an egg sandwich, it's time to go to the store,' he said, chuckling.

When one forty-five finally came he felt that electric jittery feeling he remembered from childhood. That Christmas-morning feeling that made you expectant and excited.

's.h.i.+t,' he whispered. He ran to Mr Booth's office. 'Mr Booth?'

'Charlie, please.' The old man was looking over papers and scratching his nearly bald pate.

'Charlie, then. What kind of day do you have in mind for me?'

'You mean your schedule?' Pale-blue eyes regarded him.

'Yeah.'

'What time did you start today?'

'Seven.'

'Need a few hours?'

'Yes, sir.'

He waved a hand. 'Take 'em. I figure you'd work morning to mid-afternoon and then be on call for emergencies after. So if no one's toilet explodes or door falls off or anything like that, you should be good.' Booth rooted in a drawer and tossed him a small black item.

'What's this?'

Booth cackled. 'That there's a beeper. Never seen one?'

'Well, yeah, but not for a very long time.'

Booth nodded. 'Ayuh. Took me quite some doing to find a place that still had them. If anything comes in, I'll beep you.'

'I could just give you my cell '

'I'll beep you,' Booth said, levelling a gnarled finger at him. 'I like things my way.'

Archie chuckled, clipped it to his belt. 'Yes, sir.'

'Charlie.'

'Charlie,' Archie said and hurried out to his truck.

It was only as he drove hurriedly up Main Street, wind whipping through the holes in the truck's floorboard, that he remembered what she had said. 'Before the abduction,' he said aloud.

How he had forgotten something like that was beyond Archie. Unless he wanted to. Which made no sense. More likely, he'd spent so much of his morning internally reliving being with her that it had blanked out the potentially scary and unsettling thing she'd said before falling asleep.

He wanted to ask her about it, but would have to play it by ear. Something about the way she'd acted the night before put him on edge about pressing her.

She was walking out, winding a pale-cream and blue scarf around her neck, as he pulled up. His balding tyres spun on the gravel of the diner parking lot. He rolled down the window, stuck his head out. 'Need a ride, pretty lady?'

She glanced up, ready to give him the brush-off, but then she saw that it was him and a smile spread across her gorgeous face. 'Sure. If you take me home to change I can take you to all the hottest shops, mister.'

'Deal.'

She hopped in and suddenly his truck smelled of diner food and the intoxicating scent of Betsey. Or maybe it was turkey. She dropped a plastic bag in his lap. 'Turkey sandwich.'

'For me?'

'Tony made it for me so it's humongous. We can split it. And the pickle. Try to take my pickle and I'll cut you, Archie.'

He laughed. 'Deal again.'

At the trailer she changed. He found himself holding his breath, waiting to see her today. Jeans again, faded and well loved, a pair of beat-up brown leather boots and a long white cable-knit sweater. She'd pulled her hair back into a loose, slightly mussed braid. He didn't think he'd ever seen a s.e.xier woman.

They ate quickly and silently and then split the pickle. She chugged a c.o.ke, he a root beer, and then she touched his face. Heat flared inside him, his c.o.c.k stirred to life and, even though he'd already wanted her, the upheaval inside him made his wanting her almost unbearable.

'I suppose you're wondering about what I said last night.'

He weighed his options. Something in her face, her tone, and a little sadness in her eyes told him that, if he asked, she would tell him whatever he wanted to know. Even though, just from looking at her, it seemed it would cause her some emotional turbulence. Possibly quite a lot.

Archie did the only thing he could think to do. He lied. 'I don't remember you saying anything after we ' he flipped her hand over and stroked her palm ' finished. I was so blown away by you, Betsey, both my body and my brain shut down. I was out like a light the moment you let me put my arms around you.'

She looked so relieved he felt his blood leap. 'Oh,' she said. 'Sorry. I thought...Anyway, ready to go get you some housewares? Make a homeowner out of you yet.'

'Homeowner?' He chuckled.

'Hovel owner,' she amended.

'That's more like it,' he said.

It felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her. Betsey found she could breathe for the first time all day. She'd been worried since she woke about having to explain what she'd said to Archie. She had every intention of telling him, she realised. Wanted to tell him, even. But the thought of trying to struggle through the explanation was horrible.

Every time she had to explain the story of her life to someone it was exhausting. Every time it ate her up a little on the inside.

She ran her hands over a Native American print blanket. 'The dimensions say this would work.'

He came up close behind her. When she leaned back against him, giving him permission with her body, he put an arm around her waist, kissed the back of her neck. 'For what?'

She shook it, laughing softly. 'As a sofa drape. More masculine than my crazy patchwork blanket.'

'I like your crazy patchwork blanket, but I agree. It would work. It's nice.'

'And brand spanking new,' she said. 'For a thrift-store find that's a miracle.' She flipped it over. Saw it was marked three dollars. 'And a steal!'

'Let's get it, then.' He moved a little closer and she could feel his pelvis press against her bottom. 'Now about that spanking...'

Betsey yelped and pulled away from him. 'Archie!' she squeaked. Then: 'We'll talk about it later,' she blurted, and hurried off to look for a shower curtain. But not before she saw his mouth pop open and his eyes go wider.

'Hey! Come back here,' he stage-whispered. 'Let's discuss this.'

'Soon,' she said, giggling, and managed to evade his seeking hands. Finally she found what she was looking for, only to wander over and discover him among dishes.

'I needed a few.' He had a Pyrex bowl, some soup bowls, mugs, plates and some silverware.

She took the silverware and flipped it over to read the stamp.

'You don't approve.'

She shook her head. 'I approve. I was just making sure it's stainless steel and not mystery metal.'

'Mystery metal?'

'Anything that looks s.h.i.+ny but could have stuff like lead in it.' He pulled a face and she laughed. 'But you're safe. Look, stainless steel and made in USA, so win-win.'

'This is why I need you,' he said, and kissed her quickly on the temple.

This is why I need you...

The words ricocheted around inside her as they finished up. He bought a handful of paperbacks, a few movies on tape since the ancient TV in his trailer came with an ancient VCR, and a big raffia basket.

'What's the basket for?'

'For all my stuff,' he said. 'I'm taking a note from you and your ber-neat trailer. With small s.p.a.ce, neatness is key. I figure if I need to clean up fast, maybe if a s.e.xy woman is coming over...' He pretended to leer at her and Betsey found herself laughing again. 'I can dump everything in this basket and make believe that I'm a neat guy.'

'Sounds like a plan.'

In the line he held her hand. It was nice. Low key. A simple gesture of affection that she hadn't felt in...more time than she could remember. The simplicity of it was what got to her. The gentleness of it worked through her in waves. When they were leaving she leaned in and said, 'Hurry, Archie. I need you.'

He looked surprised for a moment and then didn't. He drove fast back to the trailer park. At the entrance he said, 'My place or '

'Mine. That way Charlie won't come looking for you until we're done.'

He parked near his trailer and they ran to hers. Holding hands, laughing, like teenagers.

Chapter 10.

They fell into bed. Betsey felt herself falling in more ways than one. But maybe it was time, she thought, as her back hit the sheets, still crumpled and mussed from their night together. When she'd gone back to sleep she'd had no more nightmares. Not with his arms around her. Not with his breath keeping time with hers.

And here they were again. He kissed her and she whispered, 'Here we are again.'

'Here we are. Right where I think we should be.' His lips were warm and soft as he dragged them down her throat. He nipped her breast through the thick fabric of her sweater and her bra. It sent a spear of l.u.s.t through her so strong and sudden that she gasped.

'You need to do that to me naked.'

'I need to do everything to you naked,' he said. He was undoing the fly of her jeans and tugging. Betsey lifted her hips to help him along as he pulled her jeans down. Then they got snagged on her boots and he growled at himself, 'Probably should have started with the boots, Archie.'

She laughed, but sat up to help him. She wanted him over her, his body heat covering her, and then she wanted him filling her. The desire to have him inside her stole her breath.

Her boots crashed against the far wall. Archie ran his big hands over her small polka-dotted panties. He groaned. 'Really, is it me or do you have the most sinfully innocent underwear in the world?'

'Underwear?' she snorted.

He wrinkled his nose at her and then kissed her hipbone. The moist heat of his mouth invaded her panties and she started. 'I hate the word panties' Archie confessed.

'Hmm. Can't call them underwear,' she said, watching him as he kissed the opposite hipbone. She brushed her fingers through his dark hair, liking the silken feel of it. 'That's not a s.e.xy word.'

'Drawers?' he asked, grinning.

'My G.o.d, no! That's a word ancient people use.'

'Hmm.' The vibration of his mouth worked up through her pelvis because he'd pressed his lips to the spot just above the waistband of her panties.

Betsey grew wetter, and her heartbeat grew faster.

'Knickers?' she asked, her voice thready with want.

'Knickers it is,' Archie agreed. 'We can be British.' He hooked his fingers in the sides of her knickers and tugged until they started to slide down. When he settled his mouth over her and licked, she thought she might lose it and come right there. But she didn't. She simply gave herself over to his wet, pleasurable ministrations until she thought she'd die of the goodness of it.

'Come up here, Archie,' she said, tugging his hair gently to get his attention. 'There's plenty of time for that later. I want...something else.'

He moved over her, dragging his warm body along hers until they were chest to chest. But she smiled at him and said, 'Keep going.'

He looked confused for a moment but when she found his belt buckle with her hands and started to work it, understanding dawned in his blue eyes. They then grew heavy-lidded with arousal. He helped her, popping his b.u.t.ton and kicking off his boots as she dragged his zipper down. When she took him in hand his eyes drifted shut dreamily. He smiled. Groaned.

'You're killing me, Betsey.'

'Really?' She stroked him a few times, watching his face. He straddled her belly, his jeans down at thigh level, his c.o.c.k free and in her hand. She watched his strong jaw flex and his body move in a magical rhythm that was barely moving at all but seemed inevitable due to his pleasure.