Firefly Run (16 page)

"We don’t have movie theaters here, but we’ve got something better, a show you won’t see anywhere else in the country."

"I don’t think we should go out in the woods at night."

Shelly glanced at the dark forest and couldn’t suppress a shiver. "I figure if Eddie wants to get me, cabin walls and a security light aren’t going to stop him." She led Reed to the old log at the edge of the cliff among one of the thicker stands of pines. She sat and patted the log beside her. He sat and accepted the pint of ice cream she held out to him.

After taking the first bite, he scanned the rapidly darkening vista in front of them. "I don’t see anything."

"You will, just wait."

He glanced over at her. "What’s the big mystery?"

"I’m going to show you how Firefly Run, both that stretch of river below us and our business, got their names."

"I’m guessing it has something to do with fireflies."

"How very deductive of you. Just hush and wait."

"Yes, ma’am."

When he quieted, Reed gradually relaxed. Night overtook the last of the twilight, and crickets began to chirp somewhere in the forest surrounding them. A soft breeze rustled the pines and the leaves of the various hardwood trees. He closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of thick forest and the sound of the river below them tripping over the thousands of smooth stones lining its bed.

He could get used to this, the absence of screeching tires, gunshots and people screaming at the top of their lungs. No wonder Shelly had never wanted to go back to Dallas.

He opened his eyes to find the night had deepened even more. A few fireflies began to awaken and blink among the trees. Gradually, more joined them, shining their tiny lights closer together. Reed held his breath as if all the blinking was leading to something spectacular, like the end of a fireworks display. It came when the entire hillside lit up with thousands of lights, like strands of Christmas bulbs.

"How did they do that?"

They flashed again, illuminating the night in unison, holding for a few seconds then going dark together. He looked over at Shelly. The stars provided enough ambient light for him to see the smile on her face.

"They’re synchronous fireflies." She turned her attention back toward the light show on the opposite side of the river. "They only exist in a few spots around the world."

"How do they know when to blink?"

"I don’t know, but it makes you wonder. It’s almost like they have a collective mind or something in the atmosphere tells them when to blink."

Reed watched, nearly open-mouthed, as the fireflies continued their dance of light, blanketing the hillside in a greenish-white glow. "That’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it."

"When I was a kid, I would sit here for hours and watch them. Sean and I were convinced it was some kind of magic spell a witch in the woods had cast on ordinary lightning bugs to get them to blink at the same time. We figured it helped the witch find her way at night."

"Seems as likely as any other explanation." Shelly was right. This show was better than a movie.

"The first summer after I came home, I ventured out here one night when I couldn’t sleep. I ended up crying because I realized Troy had never seen the fireflies. We were never here at the right time of year."

Bracing himself for the shock of touching her, Reed wrapped his arm around Shelly’s shoulders and pulled her closer. She leaned her head against his shoulder as if it were natural.

"I’m so sorry you had to go through that hell," he said, his brain burning with memories and guilt.

"It’s not your fault."

Reed closed his eyes, pressed the lids together hard. Shelly must have detected the change in him because she lifted her head.

"What’s wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing."

She scooted closer to him and lifted a hand to his cheek. His gaze captured hers, then drifted down to her lips. Dear God, she was beautiful in the magical glow of the starlight. His chest tightened, making it difficult to breathe. Her fingers trailed across his cheek.

"You don’t have to hold it inside," she said. "I’m here."

"You’re the last person I need to be dumping my burden on."

"That’s where you’re wrong. I’m the only person who could possibly understand."

The truth of her assertion tempted him. So did those lips of hers. Something changed in her eyes when their gazes met again. Either a longing that mirrored his own was swirling inside her or his was reflecting back at him. He couldn’t stop the spark of awareness when her hand cupped his cheek.

"Don’t," he said, his voice a strained whisper.

"Why not?"

"It’s not right."

But she didn’t stop. Instead, her hand slid up his temple and into his hair. "Please, Reed."

He couldn’t refuse. Ravenous for a taste of her, for something that would tell him they were both alive, he dipped his mouth to hers. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, needing to feel, taste and smell her. The dam that had been holding his loneliness at bay for two long years gave way, catching both him and Shelly in the resulting flood.

Reed expected her to pull away, but she didn’t. Instead, she moved against him, urging him to deepen the kiss. He should hold back, but Lord help him he couldn’t. Her lips parted, inviting him in. Taking the invitation, he tasted her more fully. The taste of chocolate and some indefinable flavor he suspected was uniquely Shelly sent his head spinning. His heart rammed hard against his ribcage as her hands roamed across his back. The crazy thought that she was the witch of the wood casting a spell on him sailed through his mind.

Her moan of pleasure enflamed him, making him kiss her even more deeply. He hardened so quickly it made him gasp into her mouth, and he fought the need to pull her off the log onto the ground and find his way inside her.

Reality slammed into him with incredible force. He pulled away, sucking in air. Her passion-drugged eyes looked up at him, questioning his hasty retreat.

What the hell was wrong with him? How could he think about taking her on the ground like some animal and when Eddie Victor could be watching from the shadows? How could he even consider making love to her in the first place? Shame washed over him, sending him to his feet.

"Reed, what’s wrong?"

He hated the hurt in her voice, but he couldn’t let her lure him back to her side. He might not be able to stop himself next time. It might be wrong, but he wanted Shelly like he’d never wanted any woman before. The power of it frightened him, worrying him that he wouldn’t be able to control his need.

"Reed?"

"Go back to the cabin."

"Not until you tell me what’s wrong."

He had to get away from her but make sure she was safe at the same time. "Just go, Shelly."

"Why—"

He spun toward her, took a couple of steps before he stopped himself. "Because I’m as hard as that log, and I’m having difficulty controlling myself." He expected her to turn and run, but she kept looking up at him. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes." She paused before continuing. "What if I want the same thing?"

He couldn’t believe his ears. "You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re confused."

"I know desire when I feel it."

"I don’t think it’s me you desire."

Even in the dim light, he saw her jaws tighten. "I know exactly what and who I want. I’ve moved on, Reed. I never expected this either, but I want you. I’m not talking forever, just two adults in the here and now. All that’s standing in the way is your irrational, misplaced guilt. Let me know when you get past it."

Too stunned to speak, he watched her turn and walk to her cabin. The slamming of her door indicated she might be more upset than she let on.

He sank onto the log, alone and barely noticing the miraculous light show continuing in front of him. He hated upsetting her, but he’d hate himself more if he gave in to his desire and hurt her. Thunder rumbled to the west, as if telling him to keep his distance.

****

Shelly sat in her darkened room with her back to the headboard of her bed and her arms wrapped around her legs, wondering when Reed would return to the cabin. She’d never seen him with such a wild, hot look in his eyes. She knew he wouldn’t actually hurt her, but he evidently believed his actions would damage her—or their friendship—in some irreparable way. His frank admission of how she affected him had surprised her, making her heart thump against her chest as if trying to escape.

Now, she sat alone, her heart still erratic in its rhythm. She strained to hear anything beyond the pattering of rain on her roof. The longer she sat, the more her encounter with Reed percolated in her mind. Had she made a huge mistake? Was he disgusted with her for so obviously wanting him? Did he despise himself for responding?

She relived the kiss, remembering the sweet surge of desire that had raced through her body at the first touch of his lips, the conflagration that burst in the deepest part of her when he moaned and pulled her closer. For a moment when he’d threatened to take her on the ground, she’d been tempted to agree no matter the emotional consequences. She’d said she could make love with no long-term commitment, but could she?

But despite her earlier words, intuition told her it wasn’t the right time or place, no matter how much her body yearned for him. Reed had to make peace with a lot of things before he could allow himself to feel any positive emotions. She hugged herself tighter at the thought he might never make that breakthrough, that she might not be able to have a carefree, casual relationship. She had to decide if she was an all-or-nothing woman or if she could enjoy herself without becoming too involved and risking her heart again.

The minutes stretched into an hour, then two. Shelly yawned and dozed, still in her sitting position. She considered going out to search for Reed, but with no moon or stars, the night lurked darker and more menacing. She had no doubt Reed was nearby. No matter what he was feeling toward her, he wouldn’t leave her unprotected. But he could be anywhere within sight of the cabin.

What would she say if she did find him? Conceding that she wouldn’t confront him again that night even if he did return to the cabin, she slid beneath her top sheet. Her eyes closed as soon as her head rested on the soft pillow.

She’d barely drifted off when the sound of her front door opening jerked her awake. Muscles taut, she listened as floorboards creaked in the outer room. Her heart jumped when those footsteps came closer to her door. But the door didn’t open. Reed—she was certain she recognized his footfalls—didn’t move from the spot for several seconds. A soft brush sounded like a hand rubbing across the wood of the door. Was he fighting with himself about whether to open it?

She almost rose and opened the door herself, but Reed retreated as carefully as he’d approached. Shelly bit her lip to keep it from trembling. She understood the need for soul searching. Evidently, she had some of her own to do. Was Reed a convenient, familiar and safe way to alleviate her loneliness, or was she falling for him despite common sense?

As she listened to him prowl around the outer room of her cabin like a caged lion, she thought she already knew the answer.

****

Though the forecast for the afternoon called for a chance of severe thunderstorms, the next morning dawned clear, bright and refreshed by the previous night’s rain. Shelly rose to find Reed had already vacated the cabin. She crossed to the front window but couldn’t see him.

A surge of exasperation welled up in her. If he wanted to hide—from his feelings, from the past, from her—then she’d let him. Pushing Reed Tanner around was about as fruitful as getting a donkey to move once it had unceremoniously plopped itself on its rear. He’d either talk to her about last night or he wouldn’t. Either way, she’d manage.

She strode to the office with a cup of strong coffee in one hand and her head held high in case Reed was watching from some secluded spot in the woods. Besides, a bit of excitement bubbled within her, thanks to the comments about nature programs Reed had made at dinner the night before. They would take extra work, but it was worth it. She knew Chris wouldn’t mind working a little more, and Reed, well, he was pretty much on guard duty 24-7.

And she hadn’t been so excited about something in a long time. Not only would she occupy her mind so she couldn’t worry about all the things she wasn’t able to control, she’d get to do what she really loved—teach others about the vibrant natural world that was her home.

Once inside the office, she dug out the old chalkboard and box of colored chalk. With them in hand, she stepped back out onto the porch and put her plan in motion. Chris drove up as she was listing the week’s educational programs—wildflower hikes, presentations about the Smokies’ black bears, the scourge of wild boars and the old mountain community of Cades Cove, and, of course, viewings of the magical synchronous fireflies.

"What’s this?" Chris asked as he climbed the steps.

"A new aspect of the Firefly Run experience," she said, pointing to the chalkboard a la Vanna White.

Chris scanned the words, then nodded his appreciation. "Great idea. I see you’re jumping right in."

That she was. After the previous night, she needed anything and everything she could find to take her thoughts off Reed and that kiss, not to mention the other concerns that were never far from the front of her mind. Although she wouldn’t kid herself. As soon as she headed for the woods, he’d be there dogging her every step.

Right on cue, Reed wandered around the edge of the office after her first group of guests had gathered for a wildflower hike. Their gazes met for only the briefest of moments before he looked away, feigning interest in the treetops.

She led the group of eight on a circuitous route through meadow and forest, stopping to point out the delicate stalk of white foamflowers, dainty pink lady’s slipper, the brilliant red of fire pink and the thick clusters of orange-blossomed butterfly weed. Her excitement grew with each different flower she identified and with every question asked by a member of her group. Even Reed’s eagle-eyed survey of their surroundings didn’t dampen her mood this morning. She tried not to think that the existence of innocent bystanders in broad daylight wouldn’t faze Eddie. It hadn’t before. Please, God, let him stay away. Let someone spot him in Hawaii.