Move the Sun (Signal Bend Series) (23 page)

“Maybe. Lot to be said for crazy, though.”

Beth came over, and Lilli ordered the chicken parmesan, as she had the three other times they’d been here. Isaac got his T-bone, which was probably his thousandth. While they were eating their garden salads, Isaac looked up, and the expression that overtook his face gave Lilli pause. She turned to see a man she hadn’t met. He looked familiar, though, and Lilli scanned her memory to place him. He was tall and very thin, the kind of guy whose Adam’s apple was the first thing you noticed, with greying brown hair. Dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt, tucked in, which was apparently the “dress casual” uniform around town.

Isaac spoke first. “Will.”

The man apparently named Will said, “Isaac. Need to talk to you.”

Lilli was still combing her memory. She knew she’d get it. If she’d seen him, she
’d place him. There it was—he was the guy who’d gotten stabbed at Tuck’s place her first night in town.

Isaac set his fork down but didn’t move elsewise.
“Havin’ a meal with my lady, Will. Gonna have to wait.”

Will glanced at Lilli. “Ma’am.” She smiled and nodded back, and
he returned his steady look to Isaac. “Can’t wait.”

With a terse nod, Isaac said, “’Scuse me, Sport,” and got up. He gestured toward the front door, and the two men walked through the restaurant and out.

Alone at the table with her salad, Lilli used the time to people watch. The restaurant had about 20 tables; six besides theirs were occupied. She saw Don Keyes and his wife Lonnie, sitting with the Reverend Mortensen. Ed Foss was eating alone. She recognized the people at the other tables, too—farmers, a couple of shopkeepers—and Mac Evans, who was staring at her. She smiled, and he raised his glass.

He didn’t stop staring, tho
ugh, and Lilli was disquieted. Her instinct was not to flinch from an aggressive look like that, but after a few awkward seconds, she nodded, then moved her own gaze elsewhere in the room, letting him have the victory in their strange, impromptu stare down.

Isaac came back in, looking glum. He s
trode to the table and sat down. Lilli didn’t ask; she could tell that whatever it was wasn’t good news, and he knew she would listen if he wanted to tell her. But he gave her a concerned look and said, “What’s wrong?”

The question surprised her. “What? Nothing.”

“You have a look, Sport. Somethin’ happen while I was outside?”

Lilli thought about the weirdness with Evans. Could he read that lingering on her face somehow? Was he already getting to know her that well? The thought thrilled and alarmed her.

She shrugged. “Kind of a strange moment with Mac Evans over there.” Isaac turned quickly, and Lilli took his hand and brought his attention back. “No big deal. Caught him staring. He asked me out when I got to town; maybe he’s feeling jealous. Don’t sweat it.” But Isaac looked back, his fists clenching. Lilli glanced over to see Mac looking decidedly uncomfortable now.

“I fuckin’ hate that guy.” The malice in Isaac’s tone was unmistakable. Lilli would hate to find herself on the other end of that emotion, and she was surprised that Mac Evans, realtor, had earned it. She didn’t doubt he had, though.

“He’s smarmy, yeah. Seems fairly innocuous, though.”

“He’s not.” Beth brought their entrees then, and Isaac sat back.
He said no more on the subject of Mac Evans. They ate quietly, Isaac unable to shake off whatever ill news he’d gotten. They should have stayed in and cooked.

~oOo~

Lilli woke standing next to Isaac’s bed, her heart racing. The room was dark. When she had her bearings, she checked the clock on his nightstand: 3:21. Then she noticed that Isaac wasn’t in bed. Snagging his t-shirt from the floor and pulling it on, she went looking.

After doing a turn of the whole first floor, she checked outside and found him in the yard, sitting in a metal lawn chair—one that would be considered “vintage” and “kitsch” if it hadn’t been sitting in this very yard for probably 50 years. He was smoking. Lilli didn’t smoke, and Isaac never smoked inside except at the clubhouse, so it wasn’t unusual for him to be sitting outside with a cigarette. What was unusual was that he’d left the bed she was in to do it. He had a thing about waking up alone when he’d gone to sleep with her, and he didn’t do it to her, either.

She pushed open the wooden screen door, and it sang on its spring. He turned at the sound and watched her walked toward him, the glow of the dusk-to-dawn light giving the yard an ethereal glow. The air was still and muggy. The night creatures had quieted, the dawn creatures had not yet stirred, and the silence had weight. As she neared, he stubbed his smoke out on the ground and held his arms out to her. She sat on his lap, her arm across his shoulders.

Wearing only his jeans, h
e held her snugly, one hand on her hip, the other high on her thigh. “Did you dream, baby?” He rested his head on her chest, and she ran her fingers through his hair.

“Yeah. You okay?”

“I’m sorry.” Instead of answering her question, he asked one of his own. “You ever gonna tell me what they are? Afghanistan stuff?”

She sighed. She didn’t want to talk about them.
She’d never spoken of them. She could say what she always said when he asked, that she didn’t remember, but it was a lie. He’d stop asking if she’d just tell him. “I guess. I mean, they started after I came back to the States, so I guess. But it’s not like I’m reliving memories from that time. They’re death dreams. I dream I’m being killed. Violently. I feel it happening. Sometimes it’s pretty gory.”

He’d lift
ed his head to look up at her as soon as she started to answer. “Christ, Lilli.”

Fearing he was about to engage in some amateur psychoanalysis,
before he could say more, she asked, “What’s got you sitting out here in the big dark?”

He smiled, and Lilli saw the weight he carried in the low curve of his lips. “I’ll tell you. Soon, I tell you everything. But not yet. For now, I’ll say I just got a lot of people counting on me, and I don’t know how not to let them down. The whole town is looking to me, and I am outmatched. I’m not who they want me to be.”

“Who do they want you to be?”

He blew through his lips.
“A fuckin’ savior.”

“I don’t know, love. I think maybe you saved me.”
She cupped her hand around his jaw, her fingers tracing his scar. She’d yet to ask how he got it.

His whole body reacted to
what she said, his arms clutching her more tightly, his eyes intent on hers. “You have to stay. I’m not gonna lose you. You have to stay.”

This was the wrong moment to start thinking about what could happen when Hobson and his brother got back, what a club vote might mean for them.
“Isaac, we’re not talking about that stuff now.

“Fuck.”
He dropped his head again to her chest. “Just fuck.”

Feeling a need to reshape this moment and reclaim the sliver of peace they were supposed to be enjoying, Lilli put
her hand over his where it rested on her thigh and pushed it between her legs. He groaned, and she felt the vibration of it against her breast. When she moved his fingers into her wetness and over her clit, he groaned more loudly and took over.

She kept her hand on his, enjoying the way
it moved against her palm as his fingers stroked and probed. Just as she was beginning to feel the warm current in her joints that signaled her climb toward release, he stopped and pulled his hand away, setting it on her hip. She whimpered and reached to bring it back, but he shifted her then, seating her square on his lap, facing away. He grabbed the hem of his t-shirt where it rested on her thigh and lifted, encouraging her to raise her arms so he could pull it off. Once she was nude, she turned and put her hands on his belt, but he caught them in his and brought them to his lips.

“Just you, baby. I just want to touch you. Lay back on me.”

She did as he asked, and then arched hard, with a keening gasp, as he returned his hand between her legs and took her breast in the other. The feel of him took her under, dulled her consciousness as it sharpened her senses—his strong chest against her back, his rough hands cupping her most sensitive flesh, his lips firm and soft against her neck, her jaw, her ear.

As he worked her, his fingers making need unspool in her blood, he murmured in her ear. “Baby, your pussy feels like satin, it’s so smooth and soft. Ah, yeah, I love it when you squeeze me tight
like that.” He pulled his drenched fingers up to swirl on and around her clit, making her hips dance on his lap. She could feel his erection bulging in his jeans, pressed against her ass and thigh. He rested his head on her shoulder with a groan. She wanted him inside her. All of him. She reached behind her and grabbed his belt buckle again, but his hand left her breast and clamped on her wrist, bringing her out from between them.

He spread
his hand wide over her belly, pushing her flat against him. “Just let me feel you, baby. That’s what I want,” he murmured into her ear.

“Isaac, please. I want you to fuck me. I want your cock.”

He chuckled, and the sex in the sound made her clench and moan. “I will. When I’m done here, I’ll take you inside and give you my cock. Oh, yes, I will. I will fuck you well and truly. But now I want you to lie back and let me touch you.” He petted her, long sweeping strokes from her throat to her knee, as his other hand continued to probe and flex inside her. “Just relax and feel it, baby.”

She did. She released a long breath and relaxed into the curve of his body
, letting him touch her. His hands were everywhere—her breasts, her throat, her arms, tracing the line of her collarbone, her legs, her belly. His fingers plunged deep into her core and her ass, pinched and rubbed circles on her clit. His mouth latched onto her neck and sucked and sucked.

She stayed relaxed and calm as long as she could, giving herself over to his touch, letting herself feel the way her need moved all through her, heating and loosening her joints and muscles all the way to her toes. His fingers
were on her, in her, moving faster and harder by degrees until his body was shaking under her with his own efforts, and she couldn’t stay calm any longer. As her climax rolled closer, gaining speed, she grabbed his hand between her thighs and forced him to go harder, move faster, until it was on her, and she needed to coil her body up, but he wouldn’t let her, he held fast, whispering, “go, go, go, go, go, baby,” and she went rigid, ecstasy shooting through her like electricity, her sight going red and starry behind her eyelids, and she screamed.

When it was over,
Lilli’s body went limp and liquid, and Isaac clutched her tight to keep her on his lap. She was glad; she felt sure she’d have ended up in a puddle at his feet. He’d done that to her—for her—with only his hands.

He kissed the skin beneath her ear and whispered. “
I love you, Sport. You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go.”

Lilli knew she should resist those words; he couldn’t know what the next weeks would bring. But
the tendrils of ecstasy still held her, and when his arms tightened around her and he stood, swinging her legs into his hold, all she cared about was him making good on his plans for the night.

~oOo~

“Lilli . . . Lilli . . . Lilli.”

Sweet Jesus, she was going to kill him. She’d just gotten to sleep.
Now he was running a finger up and down her spine, saying her name in an extremely life-threatening singsong voice.

She groaned and swatted at him.
“No fucking way.” She tried to pull the covers over her head, but he blocked her.

“We gotta go, baby. You can sleep in the camper if you want. Rise and shine
—or, well, rise, anyway. Looks like the shine’s awhile off.”

“What time is it?” She turned to glare at him.

“6:30.” About and hour and a half since they’d collapsed, sweaty and spent. How could he be so chipper? “Come on, soldier girl, that’s practically lunchtime for you, right?” He gave her ass a swat and got up. “Hey—I’m gonna make some coffee. You get up now, you can shower all by yourself. And there’s a brand new box of Cookie Crisp on the kitchen table.”

Grinning like an idiot, he left the room. Lilli got up. She wanted some room in the shower this morning.

Showered, dressed, caffeinated, and full of sugary cereal, Lilli felt marginally better. When she climbed into the camper, she felt even better. It was awesome. It was a little one, with a van front, a tiny kitchen and seating area, and a bedroom of sorts in the back. The best, very best, part was that it was at least 40 years old. Gold shag carpeting. Rust, gold, and avocado floral print upholstery. It was the tackiest thing she’d seen in a long time.

“Holy shit, this is beautiful!” she cried as she opened the side door and tossed her pack on the floor by the banquette. Isaac, standing on the ground leaning into the driver’s side, gave her a look that said he thought she was delirious, and she climbed into the
passenger seat and grinned. “No, really, I love it. This is gonna be great!”

The way he was smiling at her now gave her a little heart tremor, and she said. “I love you.”

He wiggled his eyebrows in response. She liked that he didn’t mindlessly repeat it back when she said it. Like her, he valued those words and used them sparingly.