Protect Me (7 page)

Again, she hesitates slightly just enough that I notice. She walks around me and slides down into the gray leather interior. Once she’s nestled inside my ride and has secured her seatbelt, I close her door and go around to my own.
 

“Frankie’s?” I ask as I slide into the seat and secure my own seatbelt.
 

“Is that the burger joint just down the road?” she asks.
 

I shake my head up and down. “Best burgers around.”
 

“Sounds good,” she replies with a small smile.
 

We drive in silence the few blocks to Frankie’s. I feel nervous. Nervous! I haven’t felt nervous around a girl in years. You’d think this was my first time taking a girl to the drive-in burger joint. Shit, I’ve been taking
girls to this burger joint since I was old enough to peddle my bicycle to town and ride with the girl sitting on the handlebars. But this is just another reminder of why Lia feels different.
 

Lia glances at the menu on the board next to the speaker. I love this drive-in. You don’t have to get out of your car. Push the button, order your food, and they deliver it to your window as soon as it’s ready.
 

“Know what you want?” I ask and glance over at the beautiful woman sitting in my car.
 

“Yep. Just a cheeseburger, deep fried pickles, and a cherry coke, please.”
 

“Deep fried pickles? I think I love you,” I tease with my best smile.
 

Lia laughs. “I could eat pickles all day long,” she tells me.
 

“Me, too.” I reply. “How about I get fried cheese curds and we share?”
 

“Sounds good,” she replies with a smile. “But if there’s an odd number, I get the extra one,” she adds seriously which makes me smile.
 

I order her food, a double cheeseburger, the cheese curds, and a large coke for myself, and then we sit back and wait for our food to be delivered.
 

“So, where do you come from?” I ask.
 

Lia’s reaction is instantly closed off. I almost miss the way she starts to mess with her fingers and her leg starts to bounce. Almost. “Oh, you know. Here and
there.”
 

“Here and there? That’s vague,” I reply casually.
 

“I’m just a private person, Nate. You can never be too careful, you know?”
 

And there she goes with the ‘be careful’ bit again. I’d like to know what has her so closed off and scared. She might be the most evasive person I’ve ever met. I’m intrigued more than ever.
 

I decide not to push again and steer the conversation towards her work. “So how do you like working for my sister?”
 

“Avery is wonderful,” she replies with a friendly smile. “I worked at a bakery while I was going through college and then afterwards for a few years,” she adds with a shrug.
 

“Where did you go to college?” I ask, hoping that she doesn’t clam up again.
 

“Down in Florida,” she says nonchalantly. She doesn’t elaborate, and, again, I don’t push. I have a feeling that if I’m going to get answers from her, I’m going to have to bide my time and take this slow. She’s completely withdrawn and the last thing I want to do is push her away. “What about you?” she asks as she picks at her cuticles.
 

“Born and raised here in Rivers Edge. Thought about leaving for about two minutes after high school. Ended up enrolling in the fire academy before the ink was completely dry on my diploma.”
 

“So you work in St. Charles, is that right?”
 

“Yep. Been there for ten years already.”
 

“You must really love it. Your eyes light up every time you talk about it,” she says with a small smile.
 

“I do. Don’t get me wrong, though, it’s a hard job. The days are long and the work is grueling. And not every call has a happy ending,” I reply and look distantly out the windshield. If she only knew some of the ghosts that haunt me in the dark, quiet night.
 

About that time, thankfully, the server brings out a tray of food. Saved from the heavy shit by mouth-watering, greasy burgers.
 

I hand the server a twenty as I start to distribute our food. Lia doesn’t hold back as she removes the paper wrapper from the burger and dives in. With the first bite, she moans and her eyes roll back in delight. Fuck me. That was the sexiest, most erotic display of eating I’ve ever witnessed. Check my damn pants if you need proof.
 

I clear my suddenly dry throat. “Good?” I ask. It sounds deep and husky. Like sex.
 

“This may very well be the best burger I’ve ever had,” she replies with a mouthful of food.
 

I can’t help the laugh that erupts from deep within my gut. I don’t think I’ve ever had a woman sit in front of me, devouring her big, juicy cheeseburger, and talk with her mouth full. She’s not eating a salad, and I
love it.  I’d take a girl who will eat real, unhealthy food, any day.
 

“Told you they were the best in town,” I reply before taking a huge bite of my own greasy burger.
 

“Well, you definitely didn’t exaggerate. I may have found a new favorite while I’m in town,” she replies. Something deep within my gut tightens. The thought of sharing this favorite with her is thrilling and yet terrifying on so many levels. Or maybe it’s the fact that she said ‘while I’m in town’ like she knows she’s not staying.
 

We make small talk, nothing too heavy, as we consume our dinner. Lia let me steal a couple of her fried pickles without giving me too much grief, and in return, she ate more than her share of fried cheese curds. I don’t even care. I would gladly give her every bit of food I have if it makes her happy. That smile. I’d give my left nut to see that smile on her face all the time.
 

Knock this crazy shit off! Quit thinking like a chick, you emotional bastard.
I mentally punch myself in the face.
 

Maybe I need to go get laid.
 

I wonder if I could make Lia moan like she did earlier while her eyes roll around in that pretty little head of hers as I drive myself deep within her sweet wetness.
 

Damn with these tight pants. Maybe it’s time to get a bigger size?
 

I adjust myself as casually as possible as I ball up my burger wrapper and throw it back up on the empty tray. Lia all but licks the bottom of the square wrapper before mirroring my action.
 

Once our mess is cleaned up and the drinks are nothing more than melted ice, I look back over at the beauty sitting shotgun in my car. I can’t help but stare. She’s fucking beautiful. Her gray eyes are like magnets. I can’t fight the intense pulling as my eyes seek hers. It’s uncontrollable and that’s what confuses me the most. I like control. I like order. Lia makes me want to throw both of those out the damn window.
 

“Do you want to go somewhere with me?” I ask, the words out of my mouth before I even process what I’m saying.
 

She looks startled, yet curious. “Where?” she asks cautiously.
 

I clear my throat. I can’t backtrack now that the words are already out there, so I have two choices. Lie and take her someplace else or take her to the one place no one has ever gone. The one place that is mine and mine alone. “I wanted to show you something,” I tell her as casually as possible, even though I’m starting to get a little sweaty in the pits.
 

She raises an eyebrow in question and searches my face for an answer. I hold my breath again as I wait for her reply. I seem to be doing that a lot lately.
 

“Okay,” she says so quietly that I almost don’t
hear her.
 

I don’t hesitate. I scoot the metal arm that holds the food tray back towards the ordering platform, turn the key, and throw my Mustang in reverse. We’re bouncing out of the craterous parking lot a few moments later.
 

Once on the highway, I chance a glance over at Lia. She’s picking at her nails again. Nervous habit? I crank up the stereo to help drown out the silence. It’s not a bad silence, but one filled with question. And not just Lia’s questions. My own, too. Like ‘What the hell are you doing?’ kinda questions.
 

Ten minutes later, I slow my car down as I approach the entrance to the worn, grassy path. I turn off the highway, shut off the car, and hop out. I grab my keys and walk towards the padlock that keeps the rest of the world off of this path. Once the gate is opened completely, I slip back in my car and start it up. I look over at Lia who seems way more nervous than anyone has ever been before.
 

“Hey, I’m not a serial killer or anything,” I tell her with a smile to try to break the tension and, hopefully, ease her nervousness.
 

“Okay, if you say so,” she replies with a shrug. “Though, I’m pretty sure all serial killers say they aren’t serial killers before they torture their victim with ropes and tasers.”
 

I chuckle a little and make a grab for her hands
that are wringing together in her lap. I give them a gentle squeeze and look deep into her uneasy eyes. “If you want to turn back, we can. Just say the words, Lia, and we’re out of here and on our way back to your car,” I tell her as I rub my fingers along her fidgety ones.
 

Lia exhales loudly and closes her eyes for a few seconds. “No. Show me,” she says. It’s in that moment I see the trust in her eyes. She knows I’m not some crazy psycho delivering her to her untimely death.
 

“Okay. If you’re sure?” I ask, giving her one last chance to change her mind.
 

“I’m sure. Let’s go,” she replies with a small smile.
 

I throw the car in drive with my left hand before returning it to the steering wheel. I have to use my left because I don’t let go of her hands with my right. They feel so small and warm nestled within my own. It’s comfortable.
 

I drive about a quarter of a mile back along the path before my headlights hit the small wooden shed along the creek bank. I park my Mustang in its usual spot next to the outbuilding. I turn off the engine, bathing us in instant quiet and darkness. You can hear the crickets chirp and the fish jumping. I still hold Lia’s hands within mine as if offering her reassurance and comfort in her time of need.
 

“What is this place?” she finally asks after a few minutes of quiet.
 

“This is my favorite place,” I tell her. “This is on the edge of my parent’s property. We’ve always fished and camped here when I was growing up, but it was owned by old man Baxter. He never used it so he sold this little strip of land - about ten acres - to my parents earlier this year. My dad has been the one taking care of the land anyway. He built that shed there when I was about ten years old. The creek that feeds into the Missouri River is right there,” I say as I point to the darkened area in front of us. “This little building is a small camping or fishing shed. Just a little place to get out of the elements if needed.”
 

The day is growing darker by the minute. Lia looks through the darkness and surveys the area. It’s heavily wooded right up to the creek bank. The small shack houses an old cot, folding chairs, fishing supplies, and some cookware.
 

“Wanna see?” I ask nervously.
 

“Yes,” she replies instantly, excited gray eyes meeting my slightly nervous ones.
 

I slide out of the car and walk around. Lia already has her door open and is stepping out by the time I get around to her. I take her soft hand within mine and walk her towards the shack. I use the key to unlock the second padlock on the door and pull out a couple of folding chairs.
 

The earth in front of the building is pretty flat so I open up the first chair and place it on level ground. I
make a gesture with my hand, indicating for Lia to take a seat, before I open the second chair. I set my chair nice and close. Maybe I’ll grab a hold of her hand again.
 

Hell yes I’m doing it again.
 

With Lia sitting snugly next to me, I reach over and take that hand within mine. We sit in silence for several minutes, just enjoying the quiet and warmth of nightfall. The breeze is warm and has a sticky, muggy feel, but I’m so used to it that it doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t appear to bother Lia too much either, as a matter of fact.
 

I glance over at her. She has her legs extended in front of her, her head back and her eyes closed. She looks so peaceful in the dark of night.  Like nothing could possibly bother her. No secrets. No past. No baggage that I know we all carry.
 

Lia must feel my eyes on her because she slowly opens hers, lashes seductively moving like a slow motion dream sequence, and then looks over at me. We stare in that crazy dreamlike trance for several heartbeats before she finally speaks. “So, tell me about this place.”
 

“This is my favorite spot. I’ve fished right here along these creek banks for as long as I can remember. My dad and brothers don’t really come out here too much anymore, but I still do. My parents’ house isn’t too far away past those trees over there so they can always tell when I come out here. It’s not like the Mustang is
quiet. But, they don’t bother me. They just let me be,” I tell her and look off into the distance.
 

“I can see why you love it,” she says and stares at the slow moving creek.
 

“Someday, I’ll have my own place like this; preferably along the creek with a bunch of trees.” I don’t know why I told her that. I’ve never told anyone that - ever. My dream of living in the quiet of the woods is similar to that of my dad and a few of my brothers, but to actually share that piece of my soul with someone is so unlike me. I haven’t shared anything real in years. Fourteen years to be exact.