Devil Moon (14 page)

Dressed in a snappy little peachy turtleneck sweater outfit and adorable new flats, she imagined a wonderful romantic weekend of holding hands while window shopping and enjoying a leisurely lunch in a quiet bistro. Maybe they'd go dancing in the evening. Phil had made reservations, told her he'd take care of everything. They'd spoken every night on the phone just before bedtime. She'd lain in bed and enjoyed his masculine voice stimulating her senses, making her feel like a fully feminine creature. It didn't much matter what he said, she loved the teasing way he said it.

The controlling Miss Harris had left all details of their weekend to Phil's discretion. He didn't want any of her uptight lists. He was right, of course. If she'd had her way, every moment would be scheduled. Still, she was a tad nervous about letting Mr. Casual take care of the arrangements. By the same token, if the day turned into a disaster, it would all be on his head.

Finding his apartment complex, she tread up the stairs carrying the cake and knocked
on the door marked 2B. Heavy footsteps shook the platform under her and the door opened. The man of her recent dreams stood before her in rumpled sweats.

Grinning widely, he pulled her across the threshold and into his arms. The plastic cake carrier hampered their embrace. "What's this?"

"Devil's food cake. I had a baking urge. We could have some now or wait until later."

"Man, you are my kind of girl–chocolate cake and milk for breakfast."

Warmth whooshed over her. Someone to share her secret sin. Lord, was she falling in love?

He placed the cake on the kitchen counter. “Hey, you look great, but you've got to change."

"Whatever for?"

"Well, those aren't exactly fishing duds you have on."

"Fishing?"

"Yeah, I bought you a new outfit." Tugging one of her hands, he pulled her toward the sofa, where a set of royal blue sweats, tennis shoes and socks lay folded on a cushion. He lifted them in one swoop and thrust them against her chest.

"Here, babe, you hurry and change. We're burning daylight."

Blinking and dazed, Maddie allowed him to shove her into the bathroom, where she dutifully shed her jaunty jacket and pulled on the Dollar General sweatshirt over her turtleneck. Her slacks and flats were replaced by the sweatpants and tennis shoes. Gazing in the smudged mirror at her reflection, she contracted a case of the giggles. If Thomas could see her now. She snapped her fingers at the mirror.

"Take that, Thomas Smithton. I'm an Arkansas country girl now."

Phil tapped on the door. "Hey, cupcake, do you like mustard or mayonnaise on your bologna sandwich?"

So much for that elegant bistro lunch. "Mustard and dill pickles, please."

"You got it."

Grinning like teenagers, they shared cake and milk at his chipped Formica table.

And so began their romantic weekend.

* * *

Standing on the bank of Roaring River, an ambitiously named lazy stream that opened occasionally into shallow lagoons, Phil watched Maddie concentrate on baiting her hook. The tip of her tongue peeked between her lips as she gamely folded the squiggly earthworm on the sharp steel barb.

"Ah, ha!" she said glancing up at him. "You didn't think I would do it, did you?"

Holding his fishing pole, he said, "I had my doubts."

Maddie flicked her wrist and cast the thin line expertly into the shimmering water. "I have news for you, buster. Beau Harris didn't raise the simpering debutante you think I am. I've been deep-sea fishing off the Atlantic and I once shot a six-point buck. I'm a dangerous woman."

Phil suppressed a chuckle. Dressed in fluffy sweats and spanking white tennis shoes, she looked about as dangerous as a
Sesame Street
character. "I'll remember that."

The twisty drive into the park had been fun and light-hearted. They'd talked of school and the previous evening's game. Beaver Cove High had won the second game of the season by three points. The proper Miss Harris sat cheering sedately in the bleachers, drinking a caffeine-free soda while munching popcorn. Occasionally he'd spot her over his shoulder. It seemed she only had eyes for him, but that might have been his besotted ego. He probably only imagined her face lighting up every time he glanced in her direction. She'd waited on the front row of the bleachers for him to send his boys back to the locker room.

When he sauntered her way, she leaned over the railing and smiled softly down on him. "Good game, Coach. See you in the morning." Then she'd turned and left him staring at her beautiful ass swaying into the shadows. He assumed it was beautiful in its natural state. The day would not end without him finding out.

Phil blinked back into the present when Maddie yelped, "Oh, I've got a bite!"

"Pull up to snag his mouth. Now reel him in, sweetheart, keep it steady."

He watched Maddie settle the pole onto her thigh as she fought the wiggling creature at the end of her line. Little squeaks of excitement escaped from her throat as she inched her way closer to the water's edge to land her catch. Suddenly, a shimmering rainbow trout broke the water's surface, rising into the air, still squirming and fighting. Phil dropped his pole and reached out to capture her prize.

"Oh, isn't he a beauty?" she said as the fish flopped in Phil's hand while he released the hook.

"He's a keeper, if you want him."

"Oh, no, I just want to memorize his colors another moment. Then throw him back."

Maddie's eyes glimmered at the wonder of nature pulsing in his hand. She reached out a finger to trace the multicolored shiny scales.

"He really is marvelous, isn't he?" she said. "You'd better put him back now."

As Phil sent the fish back into its watery home, Maddie sat back on the grass, drew up her knees and clasped her arms about her shins. "Thank you for bringing me up here. I get so busy I don't even notice the beauty out of my back window. But sitting here, I can take the time to notice the changing colors, smell the forest floor." She pointed across the bank at a towering oak covered in crimson and gold fall foliage. "Look at all the shades of red in that one tree."

His gaze never left her face. Her expression of shining enjoyment captured his attention. She was doing it again, lifting his spirits in a way no other person on earth had ever done. Just being with her made the air fresher, the day brighter, the sounds of the birds sweeter.

The air squeezed out of his lungs as reality hit him. At thirty-eight frigging years old, he might be falling in love, like the words of a corny song. He didn't just get a kick out her or think she was cute or hot. This complicated, multifaceted woman brought a grin to his lips with her fancy vocabulary and hidden vulnerability. He wanted more than her body. He wanted her spirit. But, yeah, he also wanted her touch and her taste. Suddenly he wanted those things real bad. He needed her.

Her smile dissolved as she noticed the intensity of his gaze. "Is something wrong? Have I failed a test? Aren't you going to fish some more?"

Reaching for her, he said, "Come here."

Hands tightly clasped, he pulled her up. He wrapped her firmly in his embrace and stared intently into her eyes. "You're mine now."

"Really? I'm a 'keeper,' so to speak?"

"That's right. I've hooked you, reeled you in, and I fully intend to land you."

He began kissing her forehead, leisurely taking his time across the lids of her eyes, down her cheek, finding an earlobe to suckle and tease.

Feeling her sharp intake of breath, she said in a shaky voice, "I never knew fishing could be so erotic."

"Oh, yeah, and you haven't even seen my rod," he whispered.

"Mmm, no... But I think I'm beginning to feel it."

They sank down onto the spongy grass, bathed in the morning light, jogging suit to jogging suit, kissing and kissing like teenagers discovering the first flush of sexuality. Her fingers caught under the ribbed edge of his shirt, pushed the fleecy material up and over his head as her mouth explored the plane of his barrel chest. Oh, God, she moved in such a sweet, familiar way. It was as if they'd done this before. He wanted it to go on and on.

Not in any hurry, he dipped his hands under the elastic of her sweat pants, and enjoyed feeling the soft cheeks of her bottom. Yeah, the sweats had definitely been a good idea. The cottony barrier of material added a tantalizing level of enjoyment to discovering the wonders of Maddie's body. He wasn't so far gone that he intended to strip her bare in the Arkansas wilderness, exposed to any wandering fisherman who might come around the bend. But he just needed a little more of her mouth, her flowery smell and her sweet surrender in his arms. Hugging her tighter, he felt himself spring into the cleft above her legs. She moaned and arched against him. Oh, jeez, he longed to taste her flavor everywhere.

Suddenly, a snuffling noise interrupted the mood and moist air wiffled up his back. Releasing Maddie, he rolled back. "What the hell…"

She screamed at the sight of a black, slobbering, Labrador dog nudging Phil's shoulder, pawing at his naked stomach. She jumped and scrambled away as Phil sat up and pushed the friendly critter from his face.

Flinching under the ministrations of enthusiastic doggie kisses, he said, "I gotta tell you, fella, it just ain't the same."

He patted the dog's head and felt a stinging object hit his hand. "Ow!"

"Go away! Shoo! Go home!" Maddie stood several feet uphill, launching pinecones at the black canine, which only captured his interest in a new game. The dog loped in Maddie's direction, bringing forth a genuine look of terror on her face. Phil saw her eyes widen and he knew she was about to turn tail and dash away.

"Don't run, sweetheart! He'll only chase you down!"

But simple reason was no match for her fright and she twirled in nameless fear, running into the woods, screaming like a banshee. Her noise only added to the dog's excitement at engaging in a grand chase. He barked with abandon and dashed on four gangly limbs after her.

"Shit," Phil muttered, as he caught his footing chasing after them with his bare chest scraping every protruding limb in his path. The trees seemed to reach out and slap him. It amazed him how far her fright could carry her, and he lost sight of her twice. Fortunately, the sound of her screams guided his way. He knew when the dog caught her by the increased frenzy of her hollering. Coming over a hill, he viewed Maddie on her knees. Her hands covered her face as she twisted from side to side fighting off the black monster, trying to jab him with her elbows. Her four-legged attacker licked her head enthusiastically.

"Don't!...Stop!" Her words came between genuine tears and yelps of fear.

Phil ran, intending to pull the dog off, but instead tripped over a root and fell headlong into the tangled duo. Caught now in a morass of thrashing limbs, the two humans and one canine rolled across the Arkansas forest floor, crunching leaves, twigs, bugs and every nasty thing in the musty earth. Finally, the trio came to a halt in the gritty soil. The dog sprang up and gave himself a good shake. At that moment a rabbit, disturbed by the tumbling intruders, hopped away at hare-like speed. The lab dashed off in happy pursuit. Maddie and Phil lay on the pungent ground, forgotten by the hound.

Flat on his back, Phil turned his head toward Maddie's huddled figure. She crouched like a kid playing leapfrog, with her forehead in the dirt. Rolling over, he reached an arm around her waist and pulled her into a sitting position. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he examined her face, now streaked with dirt and tears.

"Hey, are you all right?" he asked in a quiet tone.

She nodded and gave a wavering reply. "I think so. I
hate
big, black dogs!" And she burst into tears again.

He gathered her head onto his shoulder and then pulled them both to their feet. "Shh....He's gone now. Rabbit hunting, I think."

Leaning back, she blinked away her tears. "I've been afraid of them ever since I was a little girl. I lose all rational thought and become terrorized like a screaming woman in a Vincent Price horror movie."

"Kind of like me around my ex-wife. Come on, let's get back to the river and see if we can recapture the mood we enjoyed before we were so rudely interrupted."

She sniffed. "Okay." Then her eyes widened as they gazed across his naked chest. "Oh, my God."

"Don't worry about it. Just a few scrapes," he said.

Her fingers gently trailed his exposed skin. "I think it's somewhat more than that." The alarm in her expression caused him to look down. Welts and blisters were already forming and a fiery itch ignited in a burst of irritation. Then he surveyed the path they'd just rolled across. Son of a bitch. Poison ivy. Nothing made him more miserable than goddamn poison ivy.

And so their romantic weekend continued.

Chapter Eight

This could be the start of something big

Phil wanted to call it quits and head back to his apartment to spend the rest of the weekend in itchy solitude.

Maddie would have none of it. "Absolutely not. We've got a perfectly wonderful cabin and I'm not leaving you in that dingy apartment to scratch and make the whole thing worse. I'll find a store while you take a shower and I'll nurse you back to health in no time."