Jackrabbit Junction Jitters (33 page)

“And Flint’s pointer refers to the skeleton of a man Flint
killed and then used as an indicator to where the treasure was hidden. Right
here it reads that the man lay ‘perfectly straight—his feet pointing in one
direction, his hands, raised above his head like a diver’s, pointing directly
in the opposite.’ And then a little further down, ‘The body pointed straight in
the direction of the island, and the compass read duly E.S.E. and by E.’ Long
John Silver goes on to say that the skeleton is a pointer that leads to the ‘jolly
dollars.’”

His brow furrowed, Mac pointed at the next line on the note.
“What’s this say? Pieces of what?”

“Pieces of Eight. It’s the treasure.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “So, you think Joe hid a bunch
of Spanish silver dollars somewhere in one of the mines?”

“Maybe.” When left alone to ponder the clues, it all made
perfect sense, but having her suspicion voiced aloud by Mac made it sound like
she’d been sniffing glue again.

He nodded down at the note. “And that last line?”

“It says, ‘Pipe up and let me hear it.’”

“How is that related to the treasure?”

Claire leaned back in the chair. “I have no idea. I was just
sitting here trying to figure that one out when you walked in.”

“If it said ‘pipe down,’ I’d guess it referred to a mine
shaft.”

It was Claire’s turn to raise her brows. “You mean you
actually believe this theory of mine?”

Mac faked a surprise gasp. “I thought you said it was Kate’s
theory.”

“That was before you heard me out and didn’t laugh when I
finished.”

Taking her hand, he traced the lines on her palm, his
fingertip calloused, scratching lightly.

“Claire, I’m not going to deny that this whole thing sounds
a bit far-fetched, but I thought your theories last spring were off the deep
end, and look how that all turned out.”

She closed her fingers around his, then rose from her chair.
“It’s times like this when all I can think about are the nefarious, sweaty, naked
things I’d like to do with you.”

Chuckling, he pulled her snug between his thighs. “So, what
are you going to do?”

“Find the body. The treasure must be close to it.”

He lifted the hem of her Sylvester the Putty Tat T-shirt and
slid his hands under it. “I meant with my body. Let’s explore your naked
thoughts.”

His fingers skimmed her stomach, making her inhale and lean
into him for more. “Here? Now?”

“Claire, I’m not sure if you’ve been picking up on my
signals since I walked in that door, but I came to see you for one primary
reason.” His gaze was filled with R-rated intentions which she really wanted to
see him follow through on.

What about the others upstairs? Her sister? Her mother?

Mac’s fingers inched northward, brushing away all of her
hesitations.

Cocking her head to the side, she asked, “You think I’m easy
or something, Mr. Garner?”

“I think you can be quickly persuaded with the right
technique.” Pushing her hair to the side, he nibbled on the sensitive skin
running from her ear down her neck.

She shivered under his mouth. “Is this your ‘right technique’?”

“It’s part of it.” His thumbs skimmed the undersides of her
breasts. “Tell me what you want, Claire.”

“You inside of me, coinciding with some mutual moaning,” she
whispered, closing her eyes to imagine the scene. “Maybe a bit of muffled
screaming.” She took a shaky breath. “Definitely multiple moments of
muffled-ness.”

His chuckle warmed her ear. “You taste salty today.”

It was called sweat. “I should shower first.”

“There’s no time for that.” His fingertips made her quiver
clear down to her ankles. “Shut up and kiss me, woman.”

She obeyed, sinking into him as she teased a groan from his
lips with some strokes of her tongue and a few well-placed rubs.

Enough was enough. Patience was never on her list of
virtues. She reached for the waistline of his jeans. “Take your pants off.”

His hands stopped hers. “You first.”

She wasted no time. Pants tossed aside, she waited in her
underwear, watching as Mac pushed down his jeans.

“Don’t forget these.” She tugged at the waistline of his boxer
briefs.

“I’ll get to those in a minute. Your shirt needs to go.”

He helped her remove it, his hands getting preoccupied with
her breasts as she unclasped her bra.

Covering his hands with hers, she held him still. “Your
shirt now,” she ordered, and helped him pull it over his head.

Tossing his T-shirt aside, she hopped up on the desktop. “Come
here.” She reached for him, breathy with excitement for all that she knew he
had to offer.

But he held back, staring with an intensity she could almost
feel.

She leaned back on her hands, pulling her shoulders back in
hopes of adding a tantalizing little lift to her girls. “What’s the hold up?
Did you forget how this goes?”

“No, I’ve been thinking about it for days, but my version
doesn’t involve the desk.” He grabbed her arm and tugged her to her feet.

“Oh, yeah?” Running her finger down the middle of his chest,
she paused just above his navel. “Tell me more.”

“How about I show you?” Spinning her around, he pinned her
against the wall next to the door, shoving her back against the cool surface. “Wrap
your legs around me.”

She hesitated. “I’m not exactly a featherweight fighter, Mac.”

“We already had this conversation in the shower weeks ago,
remember? If I can handle you when you’re wet and slick, I think—”

She stood on her toes and covered his mouth with hers. While
she wooed him with her lips and tongue, she captured his hand and led it down
to where her body throbbed and ached. “Handle me again.”

His fingers slipped inside the elastic of her underwear,
teasing, making her writhe and moan.

“I want you,” he breathed in her ear.

“Please, Mac,” she said between gasps, moving against him to
build more friction.

He dropped to his knees, yanking down her panties, his lips
feathering down from her belly button.

Her knees threatened to buckle.

All it took was one perfectly placed kiss and touch and she
fell to pieces around him, her body pulsing. She squeezed his shoulders as her
world tipped on its side.

“Damn.” She tugged him upright when her head returned from
the moon. “
I really missed you
.”

He flattened her back against the wall, lifted one of her
legs, and pressed against her.

“Show me,” he said and shoved into her.

She shifted her hips, encouraging him further. “When you imagined
doing this to me the last few days, did I tell you how great you feel and then bite
your earlobe like this?”

When she bit, his body trembled in response. He shoved
harder.

“Did I scratch you here?” She clawed down his back.

He moved faster. “Do that again, Claire, and I’ll be
finished before we even get rolling.”

“Did I tell you that I want more of you, harder and faster?”

“Yes.” His words blended into a groan as he buried himself
fully, then pulled back, slamming her up against the wall again and again.

Panting, her own body tightening again, she leaned her head
back. The scent of Mac and sex filled her, winding her up higher. “Did I cry
out your name when I peaked?”

“Yes!” he said, his voice raspy.

She slid her fingers into his hair, pulling his lips toward
hers. “Mac?”

“What?”

“Here it comes. Kiss me now.”

As soon as his mouth covered hers, her body began to convulse
around him, this second time stronger, more core shaking. His mouth absorbed
the sound of her cries of pleasure.

As soon as she finished, he dragged his lips away, muttered
something incomprehensible along with her name, and thrust into her a few more times
before shudders rippled through him.

When his breath slowed, he said, “Holy shit, woman.” He
leaned his forehead against the door over her shoulder. “When you say that kind
of stuff to me, I lose it.”

“Why do you think I say it?” Knowing she could make Mac lose
control was a turn on all on its own.

Claire clung to his shoulders until both feet were firmly on
the carpet again. Her legs felt shaky, her body spent.

“Next time we do this,” Mac said, “I want to—”

Someone knocked on the door.

She froze.

Mac stared down at her, his finger over her lips.

The knock came again, harder. “Claire?”

Claire winced at the sound of her mother’s voice.

Grabbing his jeans from the floor, Mac tossed Claire’s
clothes at her. He yanked on his skivvies and was buttoning his jeans before
Claire managed to slip on one pant leg.

Deborah knocked again. “Open this door, Claire. I know you’re
in there.”

Sweating, Claire pulled up her pants.

The doorknob twisted back and forth. “Claire Alice, what are
you doing in there? You’d better open this door right now.”

Mac slipped into his shirt and sat down in Joe’s chair,
pulling on his boots. Claire scrambled into her shirt, took a couple of deep
breaths, and ran her fingers through her hair.

Ready?
she mouthed to Mac.

He nodded, leaning back, looking relaxed.

Claire unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Her mother stood there, her fist raised to knock again, her
cheeks red.

“What took you so lo—” Deborah’s eyes narrowed as her gaze
fell on Mac. “Oh. I should have known.” She stepped into the room, sniffing. “What’s
going on down here?”

Seriously, she had to sniff the air? Claire felt a blush
blooming in her cheeks.

“Would you look at the time?” Mac rose from the chair. “I
need to get going.” He rounded the desk and paused long enough to drop a kiss
on Claire’s mouth. “Stay out of trouble, Slugger.”

After giving her fingers a quick squeeze, he nodded toward
Claire’s mom and walked out of the room.

Deserter! Claire scowled at Mac’s back as he disappeared up
the steps.

“What were you two doing down here?” Deborah asked, her
nostrils flared, her lips pinched tighter than the end of a sausage. “It smells
like—”

“None of your business.” Claire’s face baked. She slipped
around the desk and flopped down in the chair.

“You’re being extremely rude.”

“You’re being extremely nosey.”

Deborah harrumphed. “I’m not being nosey. I’m interested in
what you do because you’re my daughter and I love you.”

Claire crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at her
mother. Deborah had been using her “love” to manipulate Claire since the womb. “Why
is it that when people say they love you, they really just want to control you?”

That earned Claire another pinched glare.

“Ever since you started dating Mac you have had nothing but
attitude with me.”

“We’re doing much more than dating, Mother.”

“I don’t want to hear about that.”

Fine. “What do you want, Mom?”

Deborah closed the door.

Uh, oh
. That couldn’t be a good sign.

Approaching the other side of the desk, Deborah said, “I
want you to stay away from Porter.”

“What?” Claire was surprised to hear Porter’s name instead
of Mac’s.

“I overheard Kate and you talking last night.”

“You mean you eavesdropped on our conversation.”

Her mother just smiled. Acid might have dripped from the
corners of it; Claire wasn’t one hundred percent certain. “Stay away from Porter.
Your sister needs a nice, respectable man, not some bar owner.” She wrinkled
her nose at those last two words.

“What if I don’t?” She still needed to figure out what he
was up to, because writing a book was a definite cover.

“Stay away from Porter or I’ll tell Mac you kissed another
man.”

Mac stood high up on the hillside just outside of the Lucky
Monk mine, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sunshine. Across the valley,
two black turkey vultures circled, sailing on the thermals rising from the
desert floor, waiting for the Grim Reaper to call on some unlucky creature.

Boom!
The percussion raced across the desolate earth.

A gust of oven-hot air thick with the scent of baked
greasewood ruffled his hair and plastered his shirt to his ribs, where it stuck
to his sweaty skin.

His gaze followed the valley’s left flank north as it
skimmed along the base of the water-rutted foothills of the Sierra del Gato
Loco Range. The view before him quivered as heat rose from the fried landscape.

Boom!

The ground beneath his boots quaked just enough to make him
question if he’d really felt that one. Pebbles clattered down from the crust of
reddish-brown rock perched above the mouth of the mine and littered the cliff
ledge.

Mac frowned into the distance, unable to catch sight of dust
from the Copper Snake Mining Company’s blasting efforts. They’d started early
in the pit today, and by the sound of it, they weren’t wasting time scratching
around on the surface.

Boom! Boom!

So much for Sunday being a day of rest.

Mac retreated from the cliff’s edge. His plans today didn’t
include cartwheeling down the steep hillside.

He faced the shadow-filled mine opening, hesitating. The
earth-shaking effect of Copper Snake’s blasts made his legs reluctant to lead
him into the Lucky Monk’s rock-lined intestines. As he stood there, a packrat
scuttled out of the mine and nearly brushed his boot as it raced past him and
dashed down the hillside behind him.

“That can’t be good,” he said under his breath.

Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he drew one last
breath of fresh air and then ducked his head and walked into the mine’s dark
throat.

* * *

Claire sat behind the counter in Ruby’s store, examining the
figurine made of bound twigs that she’d found in Joe’s safe.