Bewitching You(35)

If Gray didn’t trust Sofia, he wouldn’t bother. In fact, he’d have left as soon as she’d told him about this mysterious coffin-plane flying through the sky.

But he did trust her, and he loved her even more. Which meant Rachel needed to be saved, along with the rest of those poor people. How had Sofia dealt with this enormous responsibility her entire life?

She remained quiet for the first quarter mile down the road, holding tight to his hand and chewing at her lip.

“It’s not my fault I have these dumb visions.”

“I know.” Gray glanced down at her again. Redness rimmed her eyes. Damn. He hated that he’d upset her. “And I’m not mad at you. I swear I’m not.”

She nodded and dropped her head to watch the dirt road in front of her. Gray slowed his pace so she could keep up. It was all he could think to do. He was the first to admit he hadn’t a clue when it came to women. They were an anomaly to Gray. Had been for his whole life.

Hayes would know what to say to cheer her up. If only Gray had an inkling of that charm and understanding of women.

Tell her you love her.

No, it wasn’t time for that yet. Maybe later on tonight, after they’d saved the day. Gray would take her to his place. They’d shower and make love. He’d order in some Italian, light some candles, play some music. Then he’d tell her how he loved her from the very depth of his soul.

Maybe she’d say it back. If she loved him. There was no telling.

At least ten minutes passed before Sofia spoke again. “Are we getting close to where your car should be? It’s pretty hot out here.” Her cheeks were pink from the sun shining down on them.

Gray surveyed the flat road ahead of them but saw nothing for what seemed miles and miles. “The car’s gone. It would be down this way somewhere, but I don’t see anything on the horizon.”

Just a long road in front of them, a cornfield to the right, and an Amish cemetery to the left. Plain wooden slats marked the graves, and a white picket fence surrounded the area. Eerie.

Gray’s parents and brother were buried side-by-side at a well-kept cemetery in Indianapolis. Their stones were upright, large, and made of granite. Gray had seen to it they’d gotten the best. Although he hadn’t visited them since Hayes’ funeral. He’d been too stubborn. It was time to do that again soon.

“Look,” Sofia said, and poked him in the ribs.

His gaze followed to where she was staring. A horse and buggy drove down a road perpendicular to the one they walked. “Hey,” Gray called out twice, but either they couldn’t hear him or they were ignoring him. Probably the latter.

From his minute knowledge of the Amish, he understood they were aloof and mostly didn’t want to have anything to do with non-Amish people, or the English, as he had heard it said before.

“Assholes,” he muttered, definitely grouchy.

“They’re not *s, Gray. They’re just careful. You’re not exactly a small man.” She shaded her eyes with her hand. “What should we do?”

“Where’s your boyfriend live?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he bit his lips shut.

“Are you talking about Elijah?” She glared at him. “He has a wife, Gray. And children. I’m sure his family would not appreciate you saying—”

“Sorry.” He cut her off. “I shouldn’t have said that, but the guy was checking you out like you were piece of prime rib yesterday.”

“He was not.” Sofia shoved against his stomach. “Elijah may have been a little bit frisky as a teenager but he’s a grown man now. A grown religious man.”

“Right. I forgot. He must be a saint of a man with an angelic family living amongst all these virtuous people.” If Gray could’ve been more sarcastic, he would’ve.

Sofia set her hands on her hips. “What are you trying to get at?”

“I’m sorry to break it to you, sugar, but men are men no matter what clothes they wear or vehicle they drive. If we see a woman as attractive as you, we’re gonna look.”

“Even if you’re married?”

Time to shut up now, Gray. “Some men more than others,” he mumbled.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t know where he lives, but the closest house that I know of isn’t too far away. We’ll have to walk to the end of this road, turn right and it’s, I don’t know, a mile or two down that way.”

Gray surveyed the area again. “Why don’t we cut through this cornfield to save some time?”

~ * ~

Sofia inhaled the sweet scent of the corn and tried not to think about the note in her pocket that Gray hadn’t mentioned all day. Darn him.

He’d been grumpy and quiet, and Sofia wished he’d say the words she desperately wanted to hear. Unless, of course, he didn’t believe them anymore.

She heaved out a sigh, and Gray gave her a brief glance before setting his focus toward their trek through the paths of the enormously tall cornstalks. His manly-man decision to cut through the stupid cornfield had gotten them lost, Sofia was sure. They’d been walking for at least an hour.

Why hadn’t she taken one of Nana’s many wristwatches to check the time? Who knew if the airplane would go up today, tomorrow, or a week from now? The only clue Sofia had was that it would happen around five o’clock.

Gray stopped short, and Sofia bumped into him. “Fuck,” he said, and shoved his hand through his hair. “This is nuts.”

“What?” She peeked around his waist and saw what caused his cursing. Broken, crooked stalks appeared where they’d once been. “Are we going in circles?”

“It appears so, Sofia,” he grumbled. “Which doesn’t make a damn bit of sense because according to the sun, we’ve been going the same direction this whole time.” He shivered and spun around. “Did you feel that?”

“Feel what?”

“The cold air.”

Sofia wiped a bead of sweat from her temple. “No cold air over here. Are you feeling okay? Want to take a break?”

“Just for a minute. I need to think.” He snatched his wrinkled dress shirt from his back pocket, shook it out on the ground, then gestured for her to sit.

He may be a grump, but at least he was still a gentleman.

Sofia dropped to her bottom, and he sat down next to her. His hands trembled as he wrapped them around his knees.

“Gray? What’s wrong?” She inched up to him and cradled his jaw. His skin was cold to the touch.

“Nothing. I’m fine.” He eased her hand away and set it on her lap.

“What’s going on with you? Are you feverish?”

“I said I’m fine, Sofia,” he snapped, and met her eyes. “Sorry. I just get this feeling that…never mind.” He pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose and clenched his eyes shut.

“What, Gray? You’re starting to scare me.”

“I don’t mean to… I’m sorry.” He opened his eyes and reached for her. “Come here, sugar. I need you.”

Without question, she allowed him to pull her onto his lap. She’d do anything to make him feel better.

Their lips met, and he slipped his tongue into her mouth as if he hungered for her. Nothing was cold about his lips. They were quite warm and tasty. As were his hands as they slid up her shirt, finding her breasts. He squeezed her flesh, and Sofia inadvertently let out a whimper against his mouth.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Just a little sore from last night. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I never want to hurt you. Are you sore here too?” He gently rubbed between her thighs.

“Sort of. Nothing a hot bath won’t take care of.”

“I was too rough last night. Should’ve been more careful with you.”

“No, you were fine. It was wonderful, Gray. Especially after I found the note.” Sofia couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. “I love you too.”

“I love…what? What note?” He bunched his forehead seeming genuinely perplexed.

“The note you wrote me.” The words rushed out as a squeal.

“Sofia, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Seriously? He was going to play games like that, huh?

“The note where you said you loved me. Why are you doing this? If you don’t mean it anymore, then say so.” She launched from his lap.

He grabbed her waist and held her down. “What are talking about?”

Tears stung her eyes, but she held them back. Anger, not tears, was what this man deserved. How dare he play with her heart like this? She dug her hand into her pocket, plucked out the little yellow paper and shoved it against his chest. “There. I have it still. You can’t deny it.”

He picked up the crumpled note with one hand and held her down with the other. After reading the words, his face paled. “Sofia, I didn’t write this.”