Chirp(83)

Crisp, cool air settled over her, and she rubbed her arms. Rance pulled out the sweatshirt and draped it around her shoulders. She put it on, sat, then tore open the sack of tacos and spread the paper bag as a place mat.

He unscrewed the lids on two sodas, passed one over, and joined her. She crunched her food and washed it down with a big gulp of Diet Dr. Pepper. “It’s so pretty here.” A steady cadence echoed through the forest, and Wren sat straighter. “Is that a woodpecker?”

Rance answered around a mouthful of food. “Uh-huh.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“The guy you killed. How did you not get caught?”

He didn’t answer at first, and she regretted asking. Then he took a deep breath and met her gaze. “My cell mate, Hector, took the fall. Said it wouldn’t matter since he’s serving life without parole. Some days the guilt gets to me, but I send money each month to his family, and add to his canteen account. That will never repay what he did for me, but at least he knows I’m not forgetting about him.”

“I won’t either.”

For the next few minutes, she didn’t speak, and neither did he. Just enjoyed the silence. A nice change from the roar of the engine and highway noise. After they finished their meal, Rance gathered the trash and put it in a can a few yards away. He joined her again and looped his arm around her, leaned in close, and whispered, “Let’s make love on this table.”

“It’s against the law to have sex in a public place. This is a national park. It would probably be a federal crime.”

“Then let’s rent a cabin and spend the night.”

She scooted around on the bench and laid her head in his lap so she had a great view of those dangerous blue eyes. “We’re only three hours from home. Don’t you want to sleep in your own bed?”

“Sure, but I want to get you naked in a strange place even more.” He stroked her cheek.

“Wasn’t the shower strange enough?”

A hawk circled overhead and landed in a tall oak. Wren dragged the scent of damp earth and fermenting leaves into her lungs. The combination, along with the trees, birds, and his fingers trailing down her face, caused her toes to curl, and her resolve weakened for a moment. Her eyes fluttered. God, she could drift off to sleep.

“Yeah, that was good, but having your body pulse against me for two hundred miles has me horny as hell.”

She felt the same way, but someone had to be levelheaded, and neither of his heads reacted logically when it came to sex. But the lower one was definitely reacting now. She jerked upright and glared at his crotch. “Stop that! We need to go.”

He followed her. “I hate you’re wasting a perfectly good hard-on.”

She remounted the motorcycle. “It isn’t like it’s the last one you’ll ever have.”

“It could be.”

“Stop talking.”

He laughed harder and fired up the Harley.

It was seven o’clock by the time they reached Bluebird. When she saw the old house, joy bubbled in her chest. She’d found safety here. Made friends. Fallen in love. If she left, could she be happy? She wasn’t sure. What if Rance refused to move? She needed to find out before the wedding because living apart was out of the question.

The thought of being without him overwhelmed her. She tightened her grip to get closer. He must have sensed her need because he patted her thigh. She slipped her hand to his crotch.

He drove inside the shed, eased to a stop, and turned his head toward her. “What are you doing?”

She removed the helmet. “I thought you said if I did that, you’d know. Leave the motor running.” In a flash, she dismounted and stood next to him. “Stand up.”

He pulled his brows together. “I like where this is going and am damn glad I invested in a center stand.” He kicked it into place.

She knelt and removed his boots, then made short work of opening his jeans.

He didn’t wait for her next move. He slid pants and underwear off in one steady motion, then kicked out of them.

From her vantage point and with the hum of the engine, she imagined it was like a scene from an X-rated movie. Not that she’d ever seen one. But she bet Rance would love to furnish her with that experience. She bent to remove her shoes, then rose to her full height. He stepped closer, his eyes dark and hot on her, and her mouth went dry, because she’d been thinking about this for the last fifty miles.

He grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt and ripped it off, bringing the undershirt with it. Wren unfastened her bra and let it fall to the floor. While she did that, he got her pants and panties down to her ankles, then pulled her tight against him. “This makes up for your refusal in the park,” he said, his voice husky, full of promise of things to come.

“Get back on the bike.” Her instruction was more command than request.

“Okay. This might not be sexy, but I need to put my boots back on or I could get burned.”

While he did that, she folded and stacked their clothes. Then she faced him, straddled the seat, slid forward, and leaned back against the gas tank, which was so warm it caused her to shudder with delight.

He pushed inside her with such force, she lost her breath. Taking a few beats to regain composure, she moved against him with a slow, steady rhythm. Pressing her lips against his, she whispered the important question, “Will you be all right living in Houston?”