What We Find (Sullivan's Crossing, #1)(29)

“Highly doubtful,” she said. She rubbed her hands over his shoulders. “You’re very good at that, like a man with tons of practice. Lucky for you I have to stay right here until my bones grow back.”

“We came together like old pros,” he pointed out. “Like lovers with a routine. I love that. It’s kind of kismet, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know what to think,” she muttered. She ran her hands over his chest. “You’re so smooth. I never saw this coming...”

“You didn’t?” he asked. “The second I saw you I knew we’d end up like this. Waiting for you was hard.” He moved a little inside her. “It’s hard again...”

“You don’t have to wait now, Caleb,” she said.





Every man has a property in his own person.

This nobody has a right to but himself.





—John Locke





Chapter 6



Maggie had no idea how long Sully had been up when she finally rolled out of bed at seven thirty....on about four hours of sleep. She stumbled to the bathroom and purposely didn’t look in the mirror, a little afraid she’d see Cal’s brand on her. She started the shower and got in while it was still cold.

Holy mother of pearl, what a night that was. He was an amazing lover. But also, he was such a sweet, smart, funny man. Of course he had to be some strange duck who was taking six months off to do odd jobs and camp. He couldn’t be some ordinary, stable, reliable person, like a truck driver or forest ranger. But then, what type of man did she think she could have a comfortable fit with? Sergei, the Ukrainian artist, had been a disaster. Andrew, the doctor, should’ve worked—they had so many things in common—and it had been a worse disaster.

Even running her own hands over her body as she sudsed up in the shower brought delicious tinglings from the night before, little shudders of aftershocks.

When she was out of the shower she braved it, looked in the mirror. Her cheeks were either flushed or chafed from Cal’s beard. Her lips were rosy from hours of kissing, sometimes so wildly she could hardly catch her breath. She lost control more times than she could count and she was pretty sure she bit him once. His fault, really. He could drive her so far into ecstasy she lost her bearings and became nothing more than a writhing body responding to a powerful force and lost all sense. She wondered if she just rocked and wailed in that little pop-up all the damn night. For all she knew the other campers brought their folding chairs over to Cal’s site and created an audience. At least it had been Sunday night, the weekend warriors gone, the population down.

She put lotion on her face and some lip gloss, blew out her hair and got dressed. She was going to have to think of what to say to Sully. She’d never faced that before—worry over explaining to her father. She’d had a fling or six at the crossing, and there was Andrew—she’d never explained him. She had just said they were seeing each other and they’d be staying in one of the cabins. Something about this was different. It was probably because he’d had a heart attack, she thought. Or it could be because she hardly knew Calvert, the handsome, good-natured bum and princess molester. Better go easy on Sully.

Funny, this had never been an issue. Until she was out of pre-med, aged twenty-two, she’d been very careful with her behavior around Sully. He was so proud of her, she hadn’t wanted to disappoint him. Then that summer before med school, self-designated as an independent adult, she had a little summer romance at the crossing. He was a biology teacher on summer break, living in his RV for several weeks, studying the flora in the Rockies, and she flirted with him. He flirted with her. They were drawn by common interests and lust and she stayed out all night a few times, cozy in his RV.

Sully had said nothing. Nothing at all. It was as if they’d come to the mutual understanding that it was time for her to lead her own adult life, take responsibility for her actions without his guidance or interference. Silent acceptance.

She found him on the porch with Frank, having coffee and a not very heart-healthy pastry. But she’d been out most of the night and had therefore relinquished the right to comment on his diet choice.

She got a cup of coffee and sat down. “How’d you sleep, Sully?”

“Slept like a rock. Didn’t even hear you come in at three thirty.”

“That was subtle,” she said. Like she really needed Frank in on this.

“Mail run yesterday brought in four packages,” Sully said. “They’re for thru-hikers, so it’s starting. Cal’s in the storeroom moving things around and getting ready for some restocking, making room for the packages that are going to start coming in now—hikers on the trail are moving this way now that the snowpack is melting.”

“Oh.” She sipped her coffee.

“I’d be in there working, but I’m taking it one step at a time. Some of those boxes weigh forty pounds.”

“I’m glad you’re not doing that.”

“You know more about the post office end of things than Cal. Can you go check and see if he’s making sense of the storeroom? Looked like he was doing okay, but...”

“When did he get here?”

“Around six thirty, I think.”

Show-off, she thought. “You give him a raise or something?” she asked.