The Bucket List (5 page)

“I apologize for what I said. You’re right, I was jealous of that woman. I let it get the better of me and I took it out on you.”

Brett remained silent, keeping his eyes firmly on the road. Grace was not sure if he was waiting for more or if he could care less. She decided to keep going, after all, in for a penny, in for a pound, as the old saying went.

“I do want you…that is, if you still want me to want you, because I still want you to want me.”

 She felt like she was in some weird Marvin Gaye song.  “Get it together, Grace,” she chided herself as she continued looking straight ahead at the white lines whizzing underneath their car. The Navigator ate up the road, bringing them closer to New Orleans. She was afraid to look at him, afraid to hear his answer.

The SUV began to pick up speed, and then, even more speed. She looked over at Brett in question as he weaved in front of a semi truck on the two lane highway. Her hands went to the door handle automatically as her body stiffened. His knuckles were yellow from gripping the wheel.

“Brett?” she questioned.

He didn’t say a word, only looked in his rear view mirror as he quickly veered over to the shoulder of the highway. The rough caution grooves on the shoulder made a loud grinding sound, warning them they had left the road. They were on the edge now, nearly off the highway surface. The land was flat where he stopped, half on the shoulder and half in the grass.  Brett was out of the truck before she could form a question.

Whipping her head around, she watched him circle the back of the truck and come up next to her door, yanking it open. His features were focused and intent as he undid her seat belt.

Man, he was really pissed if he was putting her out.
She was about to apologize again, but Brett pulled her face to his as his mouth landed on hers.

Their teeth clinked momentarily before his tongue swept into her mouth. He masterfully controlled the kiss. All she could do was hang on to his broad shoulders as he turned her body towards him and leaned her back. She was still seated, but now she was almost straddling him. Her leather skirt was pushed nearly to her waist as his big, warm hands glided up the sides of her legs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

His touch was firm and sure, and she started to come alive. Grace moaned as his hand traveled down her neck to her shoulders and then to her breasts, cupping their melon-like fullness.  She felt a fire kindle inside of her body and gasped in awe as his touch heated her very blood.

Grace’s head was spinning as he devoured her lips and neck, causing her to shudder in ecstasy. She could feel her pussy pulse in near-climax just from the way his mouth worked her flesh.  His hands were underneath her sweater. She didn’t know how they got there but she loved the rough feel of them. Slightly callused hands massaged, kneaded and plucked her into a frenzy of over-sensitized nerve endings.

“Brett! Ahhh,” she pleaded, needing more.

Her body wrestled control from her mind as it responded to his coarse handling like welcoming an old friend. Her mouth slanted against Brett’s, opening for her tongue to meld with his. He sucked it and nibbled her bottom lip as she groaned and rubbed her painfully hard nipples against his palm, trying to get some relief.

He had her reclined further now, his arm bracing her back from the console which divided the driver seat from the passenger seat.  She wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to bring him closer than he already was.

Her calf-length boots stopped her from feeling all of him, but her sensitive inner thighs were being massaged by the material of his jeans. She was being consumed. Her breathing came out in harsh pants as his hand came down between her legs and his knuckles brushed her sex. She nearly came, just from the light contact. It wouldn’t take much to send her over the edge from his touches alone. It was positively illegal.

As if on cue, the blare of a police siren and tires driving on the grading behind them dragged her oversexed body from its hypnotic trance. The cool February air hitting her now-empty thighs and satin-clad pussy further sobered her.  Brett had quickly pulled her bra up and her sweater down with a look of reluctance in his eyes.

“Sir, can you step away from the vehicle.” The firm voice of the female sheriff’s deputy could be heard over the traffic whizzing by.

“Is there a problem, sheriff?”

Grace sat up fully, pulling her skirt down to a respectable level and crossing her legs at the ankles. A pretty, black female sheriff was standing in front of Brett. Her shrewd eyes assessed the situation as her mouth kicked up on one side, or at least that’s what Grace thought she saw.

“License and registration, please.” The sheriff’s voice brooked no argument.

“It’s in the glove box. I would have to find it.”

Brett pulled his wallet from the back of his jeans pants. He opened it and handed his license to her.  Grace watched her scan it, as Brett reached around her knees to pull out his registration. His eyes held humor and he winked at her. Passing the sheriff his registration she watched her assess it as well, waiting for some kind of hint that she knew who Brett was.

“Ma’am, step out of the vehicle and come with me. Mr. McAllister, you can have a seat right here in your vehicle.”

Grace was surprised at the request. Before she could say anything, Brett spoke up. The playfulness he’d exhibited earlier was gone, which made her tense.

“Is there a problem, sheriff?”

“Not that I am aware of, I just want to talk with the lady for a moment. Please wait with your vehicle, sir.”

  The sheriff’s hand went to her weapon in a guarded motion.
Shit!
Was she serious? She could tell Brett was going to challenge her further and didn’t want things to get out of hand so she slipped down out of the SUV on wobbly legs and silently mouthed to Brett that she was fine.

The sheriff waited for her. When she was seated next to her in the squad car, she looked at Brett. He leaned against the seat watching them.

“May I see your I.D., miss?”

“Hughes. Grace Hughes. It’s in my purse in the car.” 

 “No problem, you can get it in a moment. Are you okay, Miss Hughes?”

Grace wasn’t sure what to say, as the sheriff looked pointedly at her.

“Yes, ma’am, I’m fine.”

Her words were slightly hesitant since she didn’t know why the question was being asked.

“Do you feel threatened or need help, Miss Hughes?”

It finally dawned on her; the sheriff thought she was being manhandled.

“Wait, you think Brett was…I’m sorry, sheriff, but Brett would never harm me. Just look at him.”

At that moment, they both looked over at Brett, who was scowling. The sheriff gave her a look which said she wasn’t convinced.

“Okay, so he is looking a bit upset but that’s because he doesn’t know what’s going on.”

 “So, you are physically fine and are not being held against your will?”

The sheriff’s eyes scanned her body for any signs of foul play. Grace just wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole.
She’d been all game for some foul play before the sheriff pulled up, in fact, the fouler the play, the better.

“No, ma’am, I am most definitely here of my own free will.”

As if noticing her embarrassment, the sheriff grinned slightly. “Thank you, ma’am, you would be surprised at how many women are assaulted on our highways. I had to check.”

She sighed with relief as the officer ushered her back to the car. Brett was looking at them expectantly.

“Would you mind explaining to me why you just swerved out of your lane, cutting off a semi-truck without using your signal light, then hopped out of your vehicle in an aggressive manner and started engaging in what could be viewed as a lewd act in public?”

Damn,
Grace wanted to say,
come on, lady, cut us some slack, this is The Wolf.
Then she remembered how many times she had cursed celebrities for using that very same tactic to get out of things ordinary people would get ticketed or arrested for.  

 “I apologize, sheriff, my girlfriend here just gave me some good news and I got a little carried away.”

“Must have been some pretty good news. It looked like you two were starting Mardi Gras early,” she responded, turning towards Grace with one eyebrow raised.

Grace cleared her throat and pulled out her purse as Brett stood to the side, his eyes sparkling with mirth. She fumbled in her purse and produced her Florida driver’s license. As the sheriff looked it over, Grace turned her eyes on Brett, only to see him smirking at her. He thought this was funny. She caught him waggling his thick, chestnut eyebrows at her and crossing his eyes. She stifled a snicker but some of it came out anyway, bringing her the unwanted censor of the sheriff. If they ended up on the news because of this, it would serve him right.

“Miss Hughes, is everything okay?”

Grace looked at the woman and smiled. The sheriff eyeballed the interior of the SUV. She couldn’t tell if the sheriff was messing with her, or thought there was another problem. She erred on the side of caution.

 “Yes, Sheriff Williams,” Grace said the name she read on the sheriff’s badge. “I am wonderful. Brett was just being spontaneous, that’s all. He can be intense at times, but how could any woman say ‘no’ to that face?”

At that moment, they both looked at Brett who flashed a silly grin and crossed his eyes, making himself look goofy. They all burst out laughing.

Chapter Four

Brett was back on the highway, and the traffic had picked up as they began heading into New Orleans. The sheriff had decided against ticketing him. Instead, she asked if Grace could take a picture of them, which she was happy to do in lieu of getting a ticket for performing lewd acts in public. Brett had also autographed a Chick-fil-A napkin for the sheriff’s son before climbing back into the SUV.

Grace waited until they were going at a reasonable speed before she burst out laughing. He loved the sound of her laughter. He joined in, too.

“You know you almost got me arrested, right?” He tried to look innocent.

“What? I was just trying to cross that off on your bucket list.”

“You know good and well getting arrested is not on my bucket list!”

“Oh, I must have gotten yours mixed up with Tia’s.” She slapped his thigh.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“For being a smart ass!”

“Yeah, but I’m
your
smart ass.”

He tossed it out there, wanting to see what her response would be. Would she be willing to discuss their future and explore the possibilities of them having a relationship, or would she try to down-play what she had disclosed earlier about wanting him.

“So, I’ve decided on a way that I can have fun and still keep my self-respect.”  Grace’s voice held a teasing air as she looked at him.

So she was going to down-play it; disappointing, but not altogether unexpected.  He knew she tended to gloss over things she didn’t want to discuss, especially if they involved relationships.  Ordinarily it would have pissed him off, but they were passing over Lake Pontchartrain and even her unwillingness to discuss her earlier admission of wanting him could not tamp down the excitement he started to feel.

It had been years since he’d last been to Mardi Gras. There was something magical about the event, something that made you lose your inhibitions. He would use that to his advantage. No matter how she wanted to sweep them under the rug, he would eventually win her over. Hell, she was already his, anyway, even if she
was
crazy as hell.

She’d shown him a side of her personality he never knew existed. He was actually turned on by her descent into madness. Sure, it pissed him off that she was being irrational and acting jealous, but he realized, even if she was too stubborn to acknowledge it, she was only being that way because she cared for him.

She wasn’t able to discuss a relationship with him right now and that was okay. She’d given him all the encouragement he needed to stay the course. He decided to take the verbal olive branch she was extending and went along with this new topic.

“Oh, really, and just how are you going to have fun at Mardi Gras and still keep your self-respect? If I’m not mistaken, the reason we are here is so you can lose some of that self-respect.” He chuckled as she scowled at him.

Damn, she was cute, her pretty eyes and thick, suck-able lips could turn him to mush.

“I’m not going there with you.”

She undid her seat belt and twisted until she was halfway in the back seat.  His hand was itching to smack her delectable bottom, tightly molded by her knee-length leather skirt, but she plopped back in her seat before he got the chance. He took one look at her face and roared with laughter.

She sported what was supposed to be a black mask. However, the thing looked like a butchered piece of cloth that had holes cut into it at odd angles. She looked adorable as her lips turned into a pout.

“What’s so funny? This is a genius idea. Now, I don’t have to worry about showing up on ‘Chicks Gone Crazy’ or some other reality show.”

“Grace, where did you get that thing? Is that a butchered do-rag?”

Her nose crinkled. “What do you know about a do-rag?” Her eyebrows quirked in question and her plump lips pursed.

He knew he would get her with that one. “I own an auto detail and repair shop. Some of the guys like to wear them. Not to mention they make great props in wrestling.”

“Humph. At any rate, this is not a do-rag. It happens to be a wrap scarf. See, these sticky tabs hold it in place.” She attached and unattached the sticky fabric to show him how it worked.

“Baby, you look like yourself with a mask on. Just like all people in disguises do. If you do show up on ‘Chicks Gone Crazy’—which I doubt because that franchise died out a long time ago—your parents will still know who you are.”

The black cloth hit him on the side of his head and fell on the seat.

“Hater!” she said as she crossed her arms over her chest and turned away.