Firefly Run (18 page)

"God, I miss him," he said.

"I know." She fought her own tears. "But you’re not alone. I still miss him, too, but I want to live again, really live." She paused, wondering how far she should go with her confession. But the darkness and the threat of the storm outside propelled her on. "Reed, you weren’t the only one on the verge of losing control last night."

Reed inhaled sharply, and she imagined him closing his eyes to ward off his conscience. With a sound of surrender, he dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers. Her skin heated everywhere his hands touched—her face, her neck, then the soft flesh of her ribs when his hands found their way underneath her T-shirt. His breath mingled with hers, hot and gasping with need. Her own hands roamed over his broad shoulders, up the bunched muscles of his back. She leaned her head back as his lips scorched her throat.

Needing to feel more of him, she pulled his shirt from his jeans and ran her hands over his heated flesh. He groaned in response and deftly flicked open her bra. As he lowered her back onto the floor, he shoved her shirt up so that flesh met flesh. She gasped in pure sexual need. Her body throbbed, begging to be caressed inside and out. She couldn’t remember ever wanting to strip naked so much it pained her not to.

When his lips dipped to her exposed breasts, she moaned, unashamed. The sound seemed to fuel his ardor, for he lavished her breasts with delicious nips and tugs, then the soft seduction of his mouth. Two years of abstinence demanded to be cured, and she managed to free him from his shirt and herself from her own. She sought his mouth in the dark, kissed him as if he might disappear at any moment.

"God, Shelly, I want you," he gasped between kisses.

That was all she needed to hear. She rose to a sitting position, bringing him and his greedy mouth with her. "Come on," she said as she pulled him toward the door.

"It’s still storming," he managed as he kissed her eyelids.

"I know." But she wasn’t going to have sex on the floor of her closet. Reed was so tall his legs would probably end up busting through the door anyway.

When she struggled upright to open the door, she was aware enough of her surroundings to realize that the storm wasn’t as fierce as it’d been a few minutes before. The thunder still rolled like boulders calving off the mountaintops, and the lightning still brightened the room intermittently, but she dared hope the worst was over. As Reed stumbled out of the closet after her, the beating of Shelly’s heart eclipsed the thunder and the pounding of the rain against the roof.

Lightning illuminated Reed long enough for Shelly to see him watching her, a look of combined wonder and disbelief marking his features. She wrapped his hand in her own and pulled him toward her. He didn’t resist but moved close enough that she felt his warm breath stir her hair. When he dipped his mouth to hers, the flames that had engulfed them in the closet roared back to life.

Dizzy with desire, Shelly backed toward the bed until her legs bumped into it. Reed broke away only long enough to lift her in his arms as if she weighed no more than a flower and place her atop the pillows and sheets. Rabidly hungry a moment before, he slowed as if savoring the taste and feel of her. She relished the flavor of him as well, the taste of man sending her mind whirling.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She didn’t have to ask his meaning. Instead, she kissed him long and hard in answer.

His hands quickly stripped her of her shorts and panties. He paused only long enough to skim his palm over her lower abdomen and thighs. She quivered in response and arched toward him. Her reaction propelled him to his feet so he could rid himself of the remainder of his clothes. When he turned his back, she heard him mumble something and then the sound of ripping paper. Finally ready, he turned toward her again.

Lightning flashed, seemed to hold its breath a moment longer than usual, giving Shelly a look at Reed Tanner in all his glory. Her breath caught in her lungs. The rest of her body reached toward him like a magnet to steel.

When he rejoined her in the bed, he covered her body without crushing her. He held his weight on his powerful forearms and kissed her so deeply she thought he might actually kiss her soul. Her insides spasmed, searching for the completion they desired. She spread her legs instinctively, inviting Reed inside her. He hesitated for a moment.
No, don’t think.
As if he heard her plea, he slipped forward and into her.

Instantly he stilled and took a deep, shaky breath. "You feel...so good."

The enormity of what she was feeling, emotions she wasn’t certain she could even name, kept her speechless. But her body spoke to him with the gentle sliding motion. With a moan of intense male arousal, Reed pushed in deeper and then began to stroke.

Tears popped into Shelly’s eyes. Thanks to the darkness, Reed couldn’t see them and stop. She’d die if he stopped, not only because her body begged to be fulfilled but also her heart. As their movements increased in rhythm, emotions, thoughts of any kind faded away. Her world morphed into pure physical sensation and the building tension inside her. With one powerful stroke, Reed drove deep. Shelly arched high against him, her fingers digging into his taut shoulder muscles. The intensity of her release shocked her, but Reed’s left her quaking inside.

As he collapsed, her body still folded in his arms, the truth flashed as brightly as one of the blazes of lightning still illuminating the mountains around them. She loved Reed, and she didn’t feel guilty.

****

Shelly woke an hour later and rolled onto her side, burrowing her head into her pillow. Without opening her eyes, she let her mind wander back over what she and Reed had shared. Her skin heated with the memory of his yearning touch, the demanding pull of his lips. She pulsed when she thought of how wonderful he’d felt inside her and wanted him again.

She opened her eyes to find him gone from the other side of the bed. The storm had rolled east over the mountains, the thunder only a distant rumble now, but soft rain still pattered against the roof, making her drowsy. Scanning the room, she spotted him standing next to the window clad only in his jeans. For a moment, she watched him. Those strong arms that had pulled her against his body were crossed over his chest. She licked her lips.

She’d seen Reed without his shirt countless times before, but now that she’d seen all of him she doubted she’d ever be able to not picture him that way even when he was fully clothed. Naked, Reed Tanner was nothing short of beautiful, and she longed to peel away those jeans and make love to him again.

He continued staring out the window, and a flicker of worry crept into Shelly’s thoughts. Was he regretting making love to her? Had she pushed him into taking an action for which he wasn’t yet ready?

No. They’d both been more than ready. Though she’d thought of nothing but pure need while ripping away his clothes, in the lazy minutes afterward before she’d fallen asleep she’d hoped that what they’d shared would also help free him from his guilt. If she didn’t experience any, neither should he.

She pushed the thought that she loved him from her mind. If she pretended the feelings weren’t there, maybe they’d go away. She loved being with Reed, but she couldn’t allow herself to love him. It would hurt too much when he left, and she’d worry about him every day for the rest of his career.

As she watched his faint form in the darkness, she sensed more distance than what physically separated them. She bit her lip to stop the sudden quiver. Her feelings ran much deeper than familiarity, friendship and her loneliness could account for. It had been so easy to fall in love with Reed. She didn’t want to think of losing him, either to Eddie Victor or to his life back in Dallas.

"The electric crew is here," he said without looking at her.

Though she’d said nothing, it didn’t surprise her that he’d known the moment she’d awakened.

"I guess we’ll have lights soon." And unlike earlier, she dreaded them, afraid the harsh artificial light would erase what they’d shared in their absence, would reveal how her feelings had changed toward him. "Reed, are you okay?"

"Yeah."

She ached to go to him, to hold him and ask him what he was thinking, but half of her was afraid of how he might respond. Besides, duty demanded she check on the welfare of her guests and the state of her parents’ property now that the danger had passed. Acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened in her bedroom, she slid from beneath the sheet and dressed in the clothes she’d discarded in a fever. They didn’t make eye contact, didn’t speak as they finished dressing and headed outside.

The sight that greeted her outdoors shocked her. Limbs and uprooted trees littered the property. Hardwoods that had been there longer than her parents lay on their sides as if they’d tired of fighting the wind and given up. Power lines drooped low. Midnight had never looked darker.

"I’m going to make sure the guests are okay," she said, taking charge of the one situation over which she still had control. "Can you check the office and the equipment?"

She glanced over only long enough to see him nod then head off toward the office. Praying no one had been hurt, she turned on her flashlight and set off for the cabins. The guests were just beginning to venture outside. She approached a young couple from New Hampshire.

"Was it a tornado?" the wide-eyed woman asked as she stared at the fallen trees.

"I don’t know. Might have been a weaker one or just straight-line winds. Are you all okay?"

The young man, not looking quite as dazed as his wife, nodded. "Yeah. Definitely a story we’ll tell for a while."

Shelly continued down the line of cabins, asking after her guests’ welfare and assessing the relatively minor damage to the cabins. A couple of broken windows, some missing roof shingles and one rocking chair probably blown halfway to North Carolina. All in all, Shelly considered herself very lucky her guests hadn’t suffered even a scratch.

As she strode back to the office, she noticed Reed talking to one of the electric line workers. She left him to his conversation and entered the office building. The beam of her flashlight revealed the west-facing window broken and papers strewn across a soaking wet floor. Wanting nothing more than to return to her cabin and curl up for several more hours of sleep, she instead bent to retrieve sodden files from the floor.

The door opened behind her but she didn’t turn. The air crackled with Reed’s presence, and she imagined them driving off together, leaving this awful mess and worries about Eddie Victor behind.

"We should have electricity in fifteen or twenty minutes," he said.

"Good. That’ll make cleaning up the mess easier."

"Do you have any plywood? I’ll board up the window here and the ones in the cabins until we can get some new windows."

"Out in the shed."

He didn’t immediately leave but paused as if he wanted to say more. It took all her willpower not to turn and walk into his arms. But they didn’t have time to properly talk things out now, if there was any examination of the situation to be done.

When the screen door shut behind him as he left, she let out a long breath and went to retrieve a mop from the storage room.

They worked throughout the rest of the night boarding up broken windows against the remaining misty rain, cleaning the office and assessing the extent of the damage. When the first rays of daylight began streaking the sky, the full extent of the downfall hit her like a gust of the previous night’s wind, nearly knocking her over. Throughout the clearing and up into the forest, tree roots shot into the air. And because they still hadn’t found the time to return Reed’s rental car, it now sat with shattered glass scattered across the rear seat.

Chris arrived early for work and stood for several minutes gaping at the fallen giants. "In a way, I’m glad your parents aren’t here."

"Me, too. But I don’t know how we’ll get this cleaned up before they get back."

He hugged her around the shoulders, and she marveled at his height and the strength in his arm. She remembered when he’d barely reached her waist.

"We’ll get it done," he said.

He and Reed didn’t finish that day, of course, but they made a big dent in the closest downfall and removed the limb from her living room. They all worked nonstop except for a short break for lunch prepared by Linda and a pizza dinner delivered hot by Lou himself.

Lou shook his head. "That’s one hell of a mess you got there."

"Don’t I know it."

She was happy to know that downtown Bobcat Ridge had been spared. Her property sat in a line further south than the actual town, unfortunately in the path of what the National Weather Service was now saying had been intense straight-line winds. She hated to think how much more damage would have been done by a tornado touchdown.

Her guests understood when she cancelled her Cades Cove talk, and a few even pitched in with removal of the smaller limbs along with some neighbors who’d been spared damage. The kids among the group actually turned the task into a game to see who could carry the most limbs to the end of the clearing. Shelly served pitcher after pitcher of lemonade to the small gathering of workers. By noon, she’d insisted her guests spend the rest of the day vacationing as they’d intended. So, the last bunch of them had piled into their car and headed off for an afternoon of amusements in Pigeon Forge.

Shelly took their place dragging away the limbs Reed and Chris cut from the fallen trees, pausing only to answer the cordless phone when it rang. She was probably the grubbiest reservation taker on the planet.

When night fell, she forced Chris to go home. Still, Reed ran the chainsaw, working by the faint light of the security lamp and a sliver of moon. Not willing to stop while he continued working, she made endless trips to the end of the clearing, dragging limbs of all sizes until she thought she might collapse. While stumbling back to get another load, she jerked when Reed shut off the saw. He looked at her across the mass of limbs still attached to the trunk of a tree.