Behind the Pines (The Gass County Series Book 3) Page 5

“Well, maybe this is?”

  “But he drives me nuts, Hayley. Crazy. He’s cold, bitter, and never smiles. Yet . . .” She sighed again and accepted the drink from Hayley. “Yet, he makes me want to do things I haven’t thought about in a long, long time.”

  “Oh, how romantic,” Hayley snickered and placed a bag of potato chips at the table’s center.

  “Hayley,” Sunshine said, grabbing a handful of chips, trying to stuff her mouth into muteness.

  “Yes, dear,” Hayley answered and sipped on the drink in her hand.

  “I need to get fucked. Hard.”

  “I love that you say what you mean, Sunshine. This is why we need to drink martinis more often.”

  “I’ve seen Brody in his underwear and I could lick that body from head to toe, use him to my own fulfillment.”

  “He’s been single for so long I have a hard time seeing how he would even know what to do with a woman.”

  “I would teach him, of course. Tell him where he should touch me, where he should . . .” Sunshine swallowed more of the elixir Hayley had poured in her glass and witnessed the glass in her hand turn into two.

  “Yes, go on,” Hayley said, a slight slur in her voice, an unsteady hand grabbing for chips in the open bag.

  “Get licked. Fuck, his mouth on me would be my highest wish. Tie me up, do all sorts of dirty talking, and taste me. All of me . . . also, I think I am drunk.” Sunshine looked across the table to find Hayley resting her head in her hand, glossy eyes staring back at her.

  “Maybe we should become lesbians, Sunshine. At least we’d know what to do with each other. Are you lesbian, aren’t all hippies a bit homo?”

  Sunshine laughed and emptied her drink just to have Hayley replace it with another from the pitcher standing on the countertop. Sunshine stood and aimed for another glass in the cupboard, hoping a tall glass of tall water would even out the amount of alcohol hidden in the drink. It was as evil as it was delicious. As she reached up, Hayley pulled at her arm slightly, and in one smooth move kissed Sunshine’s lips. Partly opened, mostly in shock.

  “So, are you a lesbian?” Hayley asked as casually as asking the brand of Sunshine’s laundry detergent and went back to pouring another drink for herself. “Because, you know, that kiss right there wasn’t bad.” She went to sit back down on the chair and eyed Sunshine from a short distance. Sunshine took a deep breath, gulping down the sudden intrusion in her mouth, and sat back down at the table. The glass of water was forgotten, and rightly so.

  “Only checking out the field. Keeping my options open, that’s all.” Sunshine answered with a satisfied smile and let the tip of her fingers slide across her lips. They sat quiet for a moment, lingering in each other’s foreign taste. Sunshine tasted Hayley’s strawberry chapstick on her lips and as she licked her bottom lip, she noticed Hayley staring, something that made her giggle. In a haste to calm her jitters, her hand slammed into the drink Hayley had placed on the table and it rolled off the table onto the floor. Nothing but colorful, sharp splinters of glass remained of what had been.

  “Are you okay?” Hayley stood in a rush and held on to the side of the table to steady herself. “Don’t touch anything, I’ll—”

  Hayley didn’t have time to finish her sentence as Sunshine pulled her hand away from the sharp pieces on the floor and, with a slight yet growing buzz, grabbed the seat of her chair in order to not fall forward into the shiny mess.

  “I believe I cut myself,” she said quietly and stared down at the colorful piece sitting tall and proud in the thick muscle at the bottom of her thumb.

  Hayley took a few uneven steps over to the corner of the room where Sunshine had left the broom and with it in hand swiped away the most noticeable pieces of glass around Sunshine’s feet.

  “I texted Brody earlier,” she confessed in a slight slur. “Let him know you needed a ride home.”

  “When did you do that? I’ve been in this room with you the entire time.”

  “You stared long and well into your glass earlier, admiring its speckles of color. You were very cute, and far-off.” Hayley sat on her knees at Sunshine’s feet, holding Sunshine’s hand. Before Sunshine had a chance to interfere, which she blamed on Hayley’s strong drinks, Hayley pulled out the fat piece of glass from her hand, wrapped the hand in a towel from one of many well-stocked shelves lining the wall next to the chair, and pulled Sunshine to her feet.

  “Thanks,” Sunshine muttered in slight shame, for not only ruining a glass but also their evening. With her one good hand, she held the wrapped one to her chest.

  “No worries, friend,” Hayley answered, and looked with soft, kind eyes at Sunshine’s face and kissed her. Again. Oh, she kissed her all right. Gentle lips, soft and sweet as marshmallow. Sunshine and opened her mouth, letting the heat of Hayley’s breath mix with hers. Kissing Hayley was not like kissing a man. Hayley’s mouth was smooth, competent, and tasted of woman.

  Sunshine wasn’t sure how long they’d stood there. Hayley’s sweet, competent tongue to Sunshine’s virgin one. Sunshine stood frozen in the moment, feeling. Hayley’s warm hands slowly ran down Sunshine’s back to cup her bottom, squeezing, pulling Sunshine closer. A thousand thoughts ran through Sunshine’s mind, and she was suddenly not sure why she’d found men, exclusively, attractive. This, she thought, felt good. No, scratch that, absolutely amazing.

  One of Hayley’s hands found the bottom of Sunshine’s shirt, eased itself underneath to her skin, goosebumps erupting where her fingers touched. Up, up it went until Sunshine’s naked breast rested under Hayley’s palm, causing her to inhale hastily. Hayley’s mouth slowed and rested on the side of Sunshine’s mouth until Sunshine took Hayley’s mouth back in her own. In a rush they moved against the wall of the kitchen, Hayley’s hands at the front unbuttoning Sunshine’s jeans. Sunshine’s breath caught once more as she felt the warmth of Hayley’s hand inside her underwear, touching, lingering, playing where Sunshine only played on her own and in bliss she leaned her head back against the wall.

  “I want to taste you. Eat you. Feel your warmth against my mouth,” Hayley mumbled in Sunshine’s ear but Sunshine had no answer. Her mind was as blank as a monk’s in meditation, and didn’t waver when she felt Hayley’s mouth on her tummy, taking her pants and panties to her ankles. And when Hayley’s mouth landed between her legs her knees buckled and with a moan she grinded herself against Hayley’s face needing more until a slight cough was heard at the other side of the doorway.

  Hayley stood in a rush, grabbing the back of the nearby chair for better balance, and pulled Sunshine in for a quick kiss. Sunshine’s buttoned her pants back up and tucked in her shirt at lightspeed.

  “Good evening,” the man’s voice greeted them from afar.

  Sunshine’s cheeks blazed as she tried to better focus on the man of the hour, Brody. Her ride home.

  “We were only kissing,” Sunshine responded in defense.

  Brody’s face was as still as stone, looking somewhere around an eight on the boredom scale. His usual face. “You do what . . . you need to do. It’s your business not mine. You need a ride home, Sunny?” he responded, pushing his thumbs into the front of his belt. “You too, Hayley?”

  Hayley had already busied herself with sweeping the floor, steadying herself on the broomstick. “Nah, I’ll walk home. Just a block away, you know.”

  “Put the broom away and walk home now so I can see that you actually make it there.” Brody crooked his finger at them to leave the kitchen and follow him out the back door. “What have you girls been drinking tonight?” Holding the door open, he grabbed Sunshine’s arm as she tripped on one of the steps exiting the building and locked the door behind them with the help of Hayley’s keys.

  “I’m really good at making martinis, Brody. It’s your own fault you never took my offer to come over and have one.” Hayley giggled and with wobbly steps started the short distance up the length of stores leading from Main Street to the smaller cottages on the west side of the old tra
in track. As she reached her front porch, Brody and Sunshine watched her wave a farewell and vanish into her house.

  Brody turned slowly and appeared to chew on the inside of his cheek. “Ready to go home?” he asked, holding the back door to the cruiser open.

  “Am I being arrested?” Sunshine’s eyes went from the backseat of the cruiser then to Brody.

  “Nope, just don’t want throw up on my windshield. Too much technical equipment up front to clean should you have an uneasy stomach.”

  Sunshine giggled and took a sudden side step, only to feel Brody’s arms around her back, pulling her against his hard chest. Sunshine lived in that moment: He smelled of Old Spice body wash, his chest the width of Tennessee and which felt absolutely marvelous against her hardening nipples.

  “What happened to your hand?” His voice cut off her thought. “Let me see.”

  With Brody’s help she sat herself down onto the backseat and held out her hand for his investigation. “How did this happen?”

  “I may have gotten a tiny bit drunk and elbowed a glass to the floor, only to think I could swipe it away from my feet using my hand. Apparently I couldn’t.”

  “You’re lucky, no need for stitches.”

  “Yay, thumbs-up for that.”

  * * *

  Brody turned, tossed, and cursed himself for not exercising tonight. A night he’d definitely needed it. Jump rope, or a five-mile jog around the neighboring farms and wide fields was something that always worked to get his nerves in check, but not tonight. And how could it? The image of Hayley and Sunshine in that salon replayed behind his eyelids every time he closed them. The sounds he’d heard, the hasty breathes and sweet moans from Sunshine’s mouth, as he’d taken soft, quiet steps into the salon now turned him on like nothing had ever done before. God, it had been perfect. The two of them: Hayley treating Sunshine to what looked like a heck of a good time. Jesus Fucking Christ.

  Brody turned once more in the sheets and punched a fist into the soft pillow, almost cutting it in half. What was wrong with him? He didn’t like women that much. Or, correction, women’s bodies were treasure maps he’d like to explore, but their minds, nah, nothing but lies and plans of deceit. He sighed and let the air leave his body entirely until there were no more molecules of it inside of him, and through his nostrils breathed in an imaginary scent of flowers, reminding him of Sunshine’s sweet perfume of which he’d made a mental note as she sat in the car not too long before as he drove her home.

  Chapter Eleven

  Brody’s least favorite event of the year was about to begin, and he loathed every drunken comment and vomit that would emit from participants of the annual pie-eating contest. The picnic tables were lined up in center rows, and flags flew over surrounding pie booths occupied by the town’s octogenarians telling participants which type of pie they’d baked for the event. Each contestant had to eat at least four whole pies to beat Graham Johnson’s record from five years earlier, but so far only one had come close, Dewey Marchant. Everyone knew the effect the old ladies’ buttery crust and sugar-filled fruit jams had on the digestive tract. Rick’s Bar had one single booth at the end of the line pouring up straight shots of vodka for those in need of burning the overfilled stomachs from butter and sweet. Rick could have set up another booth and it would still not have been enough—and the contest had yet to start.

  Brody shook his head at the line of people parking their vehicles anywhere possible and now pouring into the open field behind Rick’s Bar, seating themselves on benches or finding old friends for a chat.

  Brody turned in haste, already disgusted with what would take place, and found himself practically chest to chest with Sunshine. She looked as surprised as he was and he noticed she was looking at him from boots to hat. He’d clipped his badge to his belt, but otherwise, he was dressed as any other man in town that day, in jeans and brown boots and a long-sleeve flannel shirt, its bottom slightly tucked into his pants. She looked pretty, he thought at the sight of Sunshine in tight denim jeans, high boots, and a knitted shirt that matched the sapphire shade her eyes showed when she looked at him.

  His heart lurched at the sight of her and the scent of her perfume. His body flashed warning signals of his proximity to her and he took a half step back.

  “Afternoon,” he said to deviate his thoughts, and tapped his fingers on the brim of his hat. “Bet we’ll have a splendid party here today.” Although, after seeing Sunshine, he was hardly aware of any drunken, pie-eating event. His voice jammed in his throat and he coughed to relieve it. It didn’t work.

  That’s when he noticed the reason to her muteness. In the haste of turning, he’d poured some of his water on her sweater when they collided, now the droplets ran down from her neck and disappeared in the V-neck of her shirt and down her chest.

  “I’m—”

  She cut him off by shaking her hand at his attempt to find something with which he could dry off the water. “No worries, it’s nothing a little body heat can’t dry up.”

  He swallowed at her answer and, for the first time in a long time, he felt fire run through his system and he felt a slight blush seat itself on his cheeks.

  “There you are, Sheriff,” Mayor Foltstad said. For once coming to his rescue—did he know it or not? “People have already started to park their trucks in red zones and in front of fire hydrants. Maybe you could be of assistance in this and handle some traffic?”

  “Yes, sir,” he answered the testy tone of the mayor, knowing he was one of the city workers who didn’t vote for him as chief of police but was fortunately overruled by majority. He turned before leaving and nodded to Sunshine standing close by, listening in on the conversation. “Hope you enjoy your time at the event. If not, I bet your canine companion can do you justice.”

  Sunshine smiled at him and lowered the open can of soda from her mouth. “I didn’t bring him—he’d eat all the pies and win the contest before anyone even had a chance to begin. Also, he’s still at the vet for a broken leg and pneumonia. But thanks for the thought. Have a good time directing traffic.” With her raised can she saluted him and with a smile she passed him and vanished into the sea of picnic tables and people. With her arrival came a warm breeze scented with country smells—grass and mud, mostly, along with spring flowers and forest and the faintest whiff of manure. He didn’t mean to but his eyes couldn’t control themselves and followed her smooth movement into the group of event goers, and when she looked back over her shoulder and gave him a slight grin, his heart went into arrhythmia and his pants felt too snug in his groin.

  His bubble burst as the screeching sound of metal rubbing metal could be heard from the other side of the barn and he knew what that meant, work.

  Sunshine watched Brody walk away from the ever-filling square of adults and children, of old ladies arranging different kinds of pies at their well-decorated booths, and maybe, the attraction she’d tried to pull back as she saw him. Suddenly she wondered if he’d felt any of it. The it had been hard to contain lately, yet she couldn’t put a finger on why the full-of-crap, stuck-up officer who’d wanted to give her a ticket for disturbing the peace made her lady parts heat up like a convection oven. Her heart had felt like a chugging pressure cooker the moment she’d cast a glance over her shoulder and he’d still stood there, watching her walk away. Had she been the only attendee of the party, she would have jumped for joy, fist-pumped the air high above, and smiled wide enough for new wrinkles to appear. But she wasn’t alone and her brain had spoken, telling the heart to slow down.

  Chapter Twelve

  “It’s not the prettiest place, but it will have to do for now.” Sunshine looked around the vacated cottage: bare walls, two rooms, and a small kitchenette. It beat her trailer in size and it had neighbors, although they were a few fields away. At least she was able to see the light from inside the farmhouses in the evening.

  The walls were white but, over the years, the paint had turned into flakes and resided as much on the wooden floor
as on the walls. Not that she planned on staying any longer than a night or two, until Brutus was home and they could reside in somewhat safety in their borrowed trailer. The upside of living in a small community was that everyone knew everything about everyone— although at times she knew that could be just as bad—and sources of help would appear when you least expect it.

  The smooth-talking gentleman, Harold’s Groceries store manager, William, overheard his two chatty checkers attempting to solve Sunshine’s dilemma of finding a place for the night, as the town didn’t have a hotel and the rooms on top of Rich’s bar were all booked solid for the town’s annual classic car show. He had offered to speak to a close friend about a cottage that was possibly empty.

  Sunshine placed another chunk of wood in the open fireplace and sat down in one of the plastic folding chairs inhabiting what could possibly be seen as a living room with a useless stove burner and sink. William had lent her a gasoline burner and given her a generous discount on canned soups before she had left the store and headed out to the remote address. The key had been under one of the two trash cans against the back side of the cottage and she had found her way inside.

  The fire crackled nicely and her mind felt at ease watching the amber light dancing inside the length of the chimney. A small green porcelain bowl filled with vegetable soup warmed her palms in the chill air of the house. Looking around she could see the house had been loved, centuries earlier, but with love, care, and much needed money, it could turn out a masterpiece.

  Sunshine placed the empty bowl on what resembled a countertop along the wall and pulled her jacket tighter around her body, bracing herself for walking the short distance to the car for another bag of groceries. Snow had fallen since yesterday morning and she’d been warned not to park too close to the cottage as the mud and soft dirt from the fields would eat the tires of her car for breakfast come morning, and her wallet showed no sign of extra money for a tow truck. As of yesterday her bank account stated $856.12 and after groceries and gas, she would need to pay Brutus’s vet bill, even though the town’s veterinarian had said he’d do it for less than half price and set up a payment option.