The Bride Takes a Powder (8 page)

"How do you know whether or
not I'm a nice guy?"

"What I know is that people
are not to be trusted no matter how well you think you know them. You need to
realize that before it's too late," she snapped.

"What happened to you? Is that
why you're here in B Falls? Did someone you trust betray you?"

She gave him a cold look and before
he could respond, a boisterous group threw open the door and barreled into the
bar. He was quickly busy greeting customers and filling drink orders. Finally,
he turned back to her place at the bar. She was gone.

What
in hell is going on with her?

After that and for the rest of the
afternoon and night, the bar was so busy he barely had a chance to catch his
breath. Not that the work kept him from thinking about her though. He wanted,
needed to see her again. Tomorrow he'd find out her story.

When he finally rolled into bed
well after the bar closed, he could think of little else but her and had to
give himself a hand job in order to get to sleep. It certainly wasn't the same
as sliding his ready cock inside her and feeling her hotly drenched pussy
tightly engulfing him.

It was her ass that he fantasized
about. Sitting back on his heels on his bed, lubing his cock, he pictured her
on all fours, her sweet round bottom hiked up high. He could see all of it, her
pink sex spread wide, open for him. The scent of her juices dripping from her glistening
hole would flood his mind. She'd groan, deep and wicked, begging him to fuck
her. He'd grip his shaft, wet the tip by sliding it along her open cleft. Open
and waiting. Wanting…

One hand tightly squeezing the
length of his lubed cock, the other cupping his balls, his eyes tightly closed,
hips pumping, he fucked himself. Muttering low-voiced husky pleas to be inside
her body, he spurted thick ropes of cum onto the bed and groaned her name. Now
he bent over, ground his forehead into the bed and whimpered. Falling to his
side, still grasping his sex, his last thought before sleep hit him like a
sledgehammer was,
Son of a bitch. Big wet
gooey spot…

***

Sunday morning came too quickly,
too bright, and too fucking early. Mike groaned as he dragged himself out of
bed, showered, and pulled on jeans and a t-shirt. He'd change the sheets later,
but right now he needed coffee. "Damn it!" The moment his hand
gripped the doorknob, he remembered his problems. First was the accusation
against him. Proving his non-involvement should be easy, because he hadn't been
involved in changing test answers, God damn it!

Second was his raging hots for Norah
Ballard. To the guys at school, she'd appeared unobtainable.
Beautiful, sophisticated, intelligent at
nineteen and all we could do was slobber after her, lusting in our hearts. Now
she's in your backyard. Take!

Downstairs his parents sat at a
table in front of the big screen TV mounted on the wall next to the bar. He
greeted them with a wave before ambling back into the kitchen for breakfast.
His dad had left a big pan of scrambled eggs, sausage, and home fries in the
warming oven. He was hungry as usual, but all his stomach could handle this
morning was coffee and a piece of toast.

"That's all you're going to
have, sweetie?" the ultimate mother, asked.

"For now, yeah, Mom." He
focused his gaze back on the TV, not wanting to talk. They munched companionably
and watched the morning news out of Chicago.

"Prominent Chicago attorney
disappears though no foul play is suspected. Almost a week ago, Norah Ballard
left her home and hasn't been seen since. Her parents deny she's missing and
insist that she's fine and not in any danger. Her fiancé, attorney Garrett
Dunleith, a principle at Dunleith & Dunleith, claims he does not know her
whereabouts. Ms. Ballard disappeared on the morning she and Dunleith were to be
married."

Mike's mouth dropped in surprise,
his gaze narrowed, and shifted to his folks, their mouths also agape at what
they'd just heard.

"Is that…?" Bernice and
Ollie said at the same time.

Mike was stunned. He'd kissed, very
thoroughly kissed and more, a woman who'd run out on her wedding? On the very
day of the wedding? "What the hell!"

"Did you know this, Mike?"
his dad asked.

"No." That was all he
could say, aloud anyway. She hadn't said a word, and he hadn't asked her about
Garrett. Hadn't wanted to. He didn't give a shit about Dunleith. Now question
after question battered his mind. Why had she run away? What was going on? Her
parents say she's not missing, but he does?

She'd urged him to fight his own
problems but had run away from hers. A cold wave of anger mixed with anxiety
rolled over him. He'd been a fool to fall for her.
Shut it! You didn't fall for her!
What game was she playing? Was
she using him as…

"I'm going to find out what's
going on." He took his dirty dishes into the kitchen, placing them in the
stainless steel sink.

Ollie followed him in. "Are
you sure you want to get involved in whatever this woman's problems are?"

Mike didn't turn around, his hands
still in the sink with his dirty plate. "I'm already involved, Dad."
A huge mistake. Damn it, I'm not the same
shy nerd I was in college.

"Have you slept with her?"

He chuckled drily at how dismayed
his dad sounded. "I didn't tell you but I knew her in college. Slightly.
We didn't run in the same circles."

"I'm sorry, son. It's none of
my business. I'm not sure, though, that you know what the hell's going on with
her."

"I don't and no, I haven't
slept with her." Spinning around, he met Ollie's gaze with a slight smile.

"But you want to." It
wasn't a question. "Mike, I know you're a sensible guy. I just don't want
you to get hurt. She could very well go back to the fiancé."

"Yeah. I know that." Mike
took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Thanks, Dad,
but I have to take my chances on this one." Ollie patted him on the
shoulder as he headed for the back door.

It was really none of his business.
She was none of his business, but he wanted the truth from her. Heading toward
the McMillan House he automatically checked the river as he stalked past. It
wasn't going down, that was for sure.

Norah and Jan were on the porch, Norah
in the swing, Jan in the rocking chair. She was a nice woman. The last thing he
wanted to do was air his anger and confusion in front of her. Forcing his face
out of the scowl he'd built up on his way here, he placed a foot on the first
step and leaned forward, balancing an arm on his thigh. "Morning, ladies."

"Mornin', Mike. Would you like
to join us for some coffee?" Jan asked.

"No thanks, Jan. I've had
enough." That was an understatement since his stomach churned, and his
heart raced as if he'd had too much caffeine. He wondered if she'd heard the TV
news report, or maybe she already knew the whole story.

Jan's gaze shifted between them.
She sensed something was going on and she rose. "I've got some things to
do. I'll see you both later."

"You don't have to go,"
he said perfunctorily.

"I think you two have
something to talk about."

His mouth tight, he replied, "Thank
you, Jan." When the screen door slammed, he climbed the last step to the
porch and balanced his butt on the railing.

"I suppose you're here with
that expression on your face because you saw the report about me on TV."
Her gaze flitted toward him then away.

"Yeah, I did."

"I didn't want anyone to know."

Her jaw was as clenched as his. He
almost felt sorry for her. How humiliating this had to be for someone as
arrogant as she was, which was how he remembered her. "I wouldn't think
so." He couldn't sit still on the railing and took to pacing back and
forth from one end of the porch to the other. From the farthest away from her
he could get, he gathered his temper and said, "Would you mind telling me
what the hell is going on?"

"Wasn't it all on TV?"

"Not nearly, I'm sure. What
the hell is going on?" he repeated. "You told me not to trust anyone,
not people I've known my whole life. You advised me to fight the charges."

"All true."

"But you didn't fight. You ran
away."

"Everyone has something to
hide," she snapped.

"I'm not hiding anything."

"Right." She sighed,
squeezing the bridge of her nose. "I am," she said in an undertone.

"What happened?"

Leaning her head back on the swing,
she closed her eyes. "It's not long but it's ugly."

"Yeah, I remember Dunleith."

Drawing a deep, shaky breath, she
continued, "I thought we'd be happy. We were supposed to be married, gee,
what was it—less than a week ago? It seems like a decade. At the church,
dressed in my wedding gown, we saw it all on TV. The asshole and his brother
were outside a strip club, drunk as skunks, their shirts off, and they were
yelling profanities at the cameras. There was no way in hell I could marry that
shithead after humiliating me the way he had."

He shook his head, quirking a
little smile at her profanities. "No, I guess not."

"I made an announcement in the
church, changed clothes, and um—" She hesitated. "I took the first
train out of town, fell asleep, and woke up in Birchwood Falls."

"And it magically appeared to
you?" He'd moved closer and balanced his butt back on the railing.

She gave him a wry smile. "And
I saw the billboard?"

"Yeah. Birchwood Falls — You've
Come Home."

"It spoke to me." She
shrugged. "I guess it was as good a place as anywhere else."

"So what do you think of it?"

She rolled her neck as if loosening
some kinks. "It's a different life than what I had. Slower. You all know
each other, are friends."

"We have our problems too,"
he reminded, shaking his head in annoyance.

"I'm seeing that. I'm sorry. I
guess there are backstabbers everywhere."

"Yeah. Do you regret getting
off the train?" That was a loaded question. He caught her gaze and held
it, the memory of their kisses fresh. He hadn't gotten nearly enough of her.
His palms itched with wanting to touch, to make love, fuck her, have sex. He
wanted this woman more than he'd ever wanted anyone. Added to that, he'd never
been this confused about a woman. His dad was right. She could very well go
back to Dunleith.

He held her gaze without blinking.
He forgot his question. Oh, yeah. Did she regret getting off the train?

In a whisper, she said, "No,
Mike, I don't regret it."

Norah couldn't read his expression.
She wasn't even sure how she felt about it. Well, confused is how she felt. A
day had passed since they'd traded kisses that had rocked her life. No matter
what happened now, Garrett was out of the picture.
But don't jump into another man's arms so fast. You made one mistake.
Don't make another.

Mike pushed off the railing and
scuffling his feet, he said, "Would you like to go for a drive? Out into
the country?"

A ride. Did people actually still
do that? Just drive around for fun? "You have a car?" It was the only
thing she could think of to say.

He frowned in mock irritation. "Of
course I do. What do you think? That I hitchhike to work?"

"Well, it's a small town."

"Not that small. Sometimes I
like to put on my big boy pants and…well…" His face turned a cute beet red,
but he bravely held her gaze.

"I'm sorry. I don't know…"
I don't know what the hell I'm saying.

Waving a hand, batting at the air,
he said, "Forget it. Yes, I have a car. I can get it and pick you up in a
little while."

It might be fun and good to get
away for a bit, forget about their problems, take advantage of a beautiful day.
"Okay, Mike." She smiled, nodding her head in agreement.

"Great." He grinned
boyishly. "Twenty minutes." Then he took off jogging back toward Ollie's.

She ran up the stairs to check her
makeup and grab a jacket. Her phone rang. The screen showed Garrett's number.
Damn.
This was the worst moment for him
to call.
Just get it over with.
"Garrett."

"It's about time you answered.
Where are you?"

"Hello to you too. I'm busy
and don't have time to talk right now. But I will tell you that I'm being
tested for STDs. You'd better hope you didn't give me anything."

"Nor…"

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd
have much to say about that." Very aware that Mike could be outside
waiting for her, she wanted to get off the phone as soon as she could. "There's
really nothing more to say to each other, Garrett. I could never trust you to
be faithful. Don't call again." After a moment of quiet, she said, "Goodbye."
Shivering, she sat on her couch trying to recover. In her mind, she'd known her
old life was over, but she knew she wasn't finished with Garrett. They had more
to talk about. But not yet.

When she got back down to the
porch, Mike was already out front leaning against a black Ford SUV and looking
pretty proud of himself. She couldn't help a bark of laughter, not sure what
kind of car she'd expected to see. "It's gorgeous."
Really. It's not like he's just a farm boy with
a battered pickup.

"Thanks. You look like this
isn't what you expected." He quirked a grin.

He echoed her thoughts.
Damn him.
She laughed at herself. So
much for having a dispassionate expression, a lawyer's expression.

Opening the passenger door, he
ushered her inside, closed the door with a robust thump, and then climbed in
his side. "Ready?"

She nodded and they drove off down
the highway. Very quickly they were out of town, and he opened it up. The sun
was out, peeking through the trees, their branches filling out, green leaves
trembling in the breeze. He handled the car well as they streaked along. She'd
never been to this area of the country and found she loved the rolling hills
and curves of the narrow two-lane roadway.