Authors: W. Lynn Chantale
She pointed him down the hall while she mounted the stairs on wobbly legs. By the time she returned with the pen tucked safely in her purse, she found him in her living room. He stood with his back to her in front of the fireplace, an antique frame cradled in his hands. She didn’t need to see the photo to know who’d captured his interest. She’d long since memorized the image, her mother’s perfect toffee complexion unmarred by blemishes and little make up. The short chin length bob she sported went well with her broad smile and oval face. In contrast her father’s much paler rugged face held a white scar from the corner of his left eye to the tip of his dimpled chin. The black yarmulke was nearly lost in the shock of curly auburn hair. What she wouldn’t give to spend just a minute more with them.
“Will I ever get a chance to meet your parents?”
A sad smile creased her lips. “No. They were killed in a car accident several years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He carefully set the picture back on the mantle. “You have your mother’s eyes.”
“And my father’s hair.”
Zach chuckled. “Very beautiful hair.” He moved to stand in front of her. “There just doesn’t seem to be enough time to experience all the pleasure your body has to offer.”
She shivered at the heat in his gaze.
“But first we’ll check out the vintage cars, grab a carriage ride and sample the rock candy.”
“Rock candy?” She winged a brow.
He grinned. “You’ve never had rock candy?”
She shook her head.
“Then it will be my pleasure to show you all the wonders of vintage candy.” He dropped a proprietary hand to the small of her back and ushered her out the door.
Chapter Four
Trisha smiled and scanned the dense green vegetation as the scenery chugged by. She brushed the fine particles of soot from her bodice and adjusted her sunglasses as the train lurched forward before it resumed its slow rolling pace.
“What are you smiling about?” Zach murmured close to her ear.
She held a lock of hair from her face as she shifted in her seat. “We can all run faster than this train is moving.”
His deep chuckle wrapped around her like warm fudge. “Yeah, I think I remember the guide mentioning that.” He rested his arm around her shoulders. “Did I do wrong?”
“You did right. I’m having a really good time.” She snuggled closer, relishing the soft caress of his fingers on her skin. “The Model T’s are so fun. I never thought I’d ever get to ride in one.”
“Yeah.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder, a contented sigh easing from her lips. As she watched the lush trees give way to weathered buildings, the back coupling of a train car was visible through the large double doors of a barn. The clang of metal against metal filled the air along with the faint scent of manure.
Her ex-husband Gordy never would’ve brought her to see a village frozen in time. He never would’ve taken her dancing either, preferring to keep those moves to himself if he remembered her at all.
Everything Zach was doing was a much welcomed change and he still hadn’t revealed all of what he’d planned for the weekend.
“How concerned should I be about your injector pen?” The worry in his voice broke through her thoughts.
“It’s been about five years since I’ve had to use one, but whenever I’m outdoors I like to be prepared.” She straightened and tugged the stainless steel chain from the bodice of her dress. The small charm held deep etching on one side and an elongated ‘x’ with a snake twined around a staff in the middle. “Bees. I was stung once as a kid and was fine. When I graduated high school I got stung and had to be rushed to the hospital. Since then I’ve carried an epi-pen.”
“That must have been scary.”
“Not as scary as stepping on a hive. If I hadn’t had the pen, I wouldn’t be here now.” She tucked the charm back in her dress and noticed Zach watching her. A flush crept into her cheeks.
“I like when you do that.”
“Do what?”
He stroked her cheek. “Blush.”
She inclined her head. The train lurched and tossed her forward. Zach wrapped his arms around her and dragged her against his body.
“You okay?” He smoothed her hair from her face.
She nodded.
“Good. Let’s get off here. The candy store isn’t that far.”
****
The candy store, Sir John Bennett’s Sweet Shoppe, overflowed with people, mostly parents with children all screaming for some sort of sugary confection. Zach cast a baleful eye over the group. The door was being propped open by a skinny teenager texting on his phone. The youth bobbed his head up and down as his thumbs flew across the screen.
Zach turned to Trisha, who fanned herself with a pamphlet. He drifted his gaze over her, and frowned. Her face, shoulders and arms were a little red.
“Maybe I should get you in the shade.”
She pushed her sunglasses on the top of her head, dislodging a few sweat dampened curls. Mischief danced in her honey almond eyes. “I think there’s a few too many people around for you to take advantage of me.”
He chuckled. Unable to resist he reached out a hand, rubbing the strands between his thumb and index finger. Pure silk. He allowed the curl to drop before brushing a caress along her shoulder. Her skin was soft, but hot. She flinched.
“You’re sunburned.”
Trisha held out her arms, her delectable lips curving downward. “Well, I guess I am.”
Zach glanced around, cupped her elbow and propelled her to a nearby pavilion. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.” He waited until she was seated before he spun on his heel, berating himself for not having noticed earlier, and walked away. Her skin was so light he should’ve realized she’d burn without protection. He crossed to a lemonade stand and waited in line. Drink purchased, he hurried across the street.
She lifted a brow when he returned with a cup and a straw in hand.
“Drink this.”
She slipped the straw between her lips and he sighed. He could recall the silken feel of her mouth sliding over his erection, an event that was cut far too short and he wanted to experience again. What he wouldn’t give to be that straw right now.
“You’re not feeling faint are you?” His voice was a little rougher than he wanted.
She allowed the straw to slip from her lips and he watched as her tongue darted out to catch a drop. “No.”
“Okay. Stay here and I’ll be back.”
He strolled back to the Sweet Shoppe. Thankfully, the worst of the crowd had cleared and he made his purchases, even adding several chocolates he wanted to share with Trish. As he made his way back to the pavilion his phone rang. He paused long enough to pull the device from his pocket and hold it to his ear.
“Hey, cuz, what’s up with you?”
Distaste flooded Zach at the caller’s voice. “What do you want, Gordy?”
“Just wondering when I’m going to get a visit from you?”
“How about the 33rd of Neverary?” He stepped out the main flow of traffic.
“Now is that any way to treat your family?”
Zach gritted his teeth. “We stopped being family a long time ago.”
“So I guess you’ve forgotten who helped set you up in your limo company.”
“I think you have that backwards.”
Gordy’s chuckle sent a chill down Zach’s spine. “You’re right. Tell you what, I’ll have my associate cut you a check.”
“That would be nice, but I won’t hold my breath. You’ve been promising to pay me back for a year or so.”
“Don’t worry, cuz. I promise this time I will deliver. Enjoy the rest of your day at the Village.”
It took Zach a moment to register the line going dead. He slowly lowered the phone and scanned the area. How had Gordy known he was here? A heartbeat passed. Trisha! Zach broke into a run, dodging several people who frowned in his direction. He stopped short when Trisha came into view. Relief made his limbs weak.
She sat in the same spot, head bent. He moved a little closer. She was holding something...ah, her cell phone. A smile teased her lips, and using her thumbs she typed on the keyboard.
For a moment he just observed the way the shadows played across her face and how the wind tousled her hair. Such beauty, and he had her all to himself for the weekend. An entire weekend to convince her she could have her fantasy. With him.
An emotion he’d fought to contain surfaced and for a second he allowed it to bloom in his heart. For a long time he’d thought of her as his, even before she was divorced. Now that she was single, he was definitely going to make the most of their time together.
He stepped forward just as a man towered over Trish. Zach held his breath as she lifted her head and offered a quizzical smile. He shifted his focus to the man. He seemed harmless enough, but there was something in his posture, in the rigid set of his jaw. Was this the man who’d been threatening him and now Trish?
Zach swung his gaze back to Trisha. Her back was straight, shoulders high and tight. Every few moments she’d shift away from the man leaning over her, and each time the man followed her movements, pressing closer. At this rate Trisha was going to run out of table before the guy decided to leave her alone.
This had to stop. Zach threaded his way through the tables, angling so he’d come up behind and just to the right of the man. He was in arm’s reach when the man lunged and seized Trisha by her arm and jerked her to her feet. Several onlookers gasped, but did not intervene.
“Let go!” She tugged away, hitting her attacker with her fist.
Zach clamped a hard hand around the offending wrist, viciously jabbing at a couple of pressure points. The man howled and released Trisha. She stumbled back against the table. Retaining his hold, Zach jerked the man’s arm behind his back and shoved him face down on the wooden picnic table. Satisfaction rolled through his gut at the thwack and accompanying
whoosh
of breath. No one put his hands on Trisha.
Gasping pants came from below. The man struggled a moment, but a quick jerk on the offender’s arm stilled any further efforts.
“I-I’m sorry,” the man squeaked out.
“You should be,” Zach said with a growl. “You don’t ever put your hands on her again.” He glanced over his shoulder to see Trisha rubbing her arm. He could just make out the faint bruise marring the skin on her upper arm. Anger surged anew. Not a good start to their weekend. “Are you okay, beautiful?”
She nodded.
He returned his attention to the man on the table. “I think you owe the lady an apology.”
“I just wanted to talk to her.”
Zach shifted and stepped away. “Really? It didn’t seem like she enjoyed your conversation,” he replied with controlled menace.
The man slowly pushed away from the table and stood, dusting off his clothes with badly shaking hands. He didn’t try to meet Zach’s steely gaze.
Zach looked the man up and down. He was a few inches taller than Zach’s 6’1’, but Zach had more muscle mass. He maneuvered until Trisha was beside and slightly behind him. The warmth of her hand pressed to his back stilled some of the anger roiling around in his gut.
“Is there a problem here?” a stern voice asked behind Zach.
The other man flinched and finally met Zach’s heavy stare.
“Maybe you should be a little more careful about the women you speak to who tell you to go away. If you ever see my lovely lady again, don’t even think about going in the same direction. Understand?”
Tension stretched taut. A nervous cough whispered beneath the pavilion, while faint laughter and muffled cannon fire contrasted with the serious situation. When Zach stepped forward, only the soft hand on his bicep registered.
He covered her hand with his and moved closer to Trish. “Understand?” he repeated.
“Yeah.”
“No, no problem, officer,” Zach said. He placed a hand at the small of Trisha’s back and propelled her away from the gathering crowd. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. A train whistle preceded the railroad crossing warning bells. Long wooden arms descended, barring the way across the tracks. They stood amongst the rapidly swelling crowd waiting for the train to pass.
“A little shaken, but I’m okay.”
He touched a spot on her bicep. “You bruise easily.”
She glanced at her arm. “He grabbed me pretty hard.”
Mindful of her sunburn he gently cupped her shoulders and turned her to face him. He drifted his gaze over her face, noting the slight quiver of her lips. This close and he could see the unshed tears behind her dark lenses. She was more than a little shaken.
He bit back a curse. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
She ducked her head and wouldn’t meet his gaze. “That...wasn’t your fault.”
He studied her a moment. Her arms were crossed around her middle and she shifted from side to side. What was he missing?
“Are you saying it’s your fault?”
She looked away.
“How is it your fault?”
Silence.
He tunneled his fingers through her hair, before cradling her face between his palms. “I don’t like seeing you afraid.” He studied her, noting how her lips softened, the rapid rise and fall of her breasts as she inhaled. “Do you know who he is?”