SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (211 page)

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Authors: Erin Quinn,Caridad Pineiro,Erin Kellison,Lisa Kessler,Chris Marie Green,Mary Leo,Maureen Child,Cassi Carver,Janet Wellington,Theresa Meyers,Sheri Whitefeather,Elisabeth Staab

Tags: #12 Tales of Shapeshifters, #Vampires & Sexy Spirits

BOOK: SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits
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Forever Rose: Chapter Fifteen

 

 

As Taylor scampered up the back stairs, Ida reached for a basket from the top of the cupboard, quickly organizing a picnic. She gathered loaves of bread, jars of jam, two large hunks of cheese, a dozen apples, and a bag of fresh ginger cookies she had purchased at Mrs. Reed’s café. Martha’s new cook was a master with sweets, and she had already purchased several loaves of his dark bread. Bundling several folded blankets and securing them to the top of the basket, the preparations were complete. She picked up an old brass school bell and let it ring, calling “Girls! Let’s go! Everyone out front in five minutes.”

It had been some time since the occupants of Sherman House had participated in a day of rest and relaxation. Today seemed the perfect day to laze in the summer sun, and a perfect day to probe for more information from the mysterious Taylor Rose. Ida loved a good challenge, and her own specialty had always been in the conversation department. Her mood seemed suddenly buoyant, and she knew the day would be filled with surprises.

She peeked out the front window to see if their transportation had arrived and indeed it had. Parked on the street outside Sherman House was a gaily painted San Diego and Coronado Transfer Company bus. The horse-drawn bus was actually an enclosed carriage designed to hold twelve people inside, and as many on the upper open deck—as long as they were willing to hold onto a railing that only reached as high as the passenger’s knees.

The bus was a bright daffodil yellow, with huge snow-white spoked wheels. Decorating the sides were elaborate paintings of various landscapes, with intricate border designs. Four well-behaved horses waited patiently, ready to escort the bus and its contents to their destination.

Soon the air was filled with squeals of joy as Ida’s girls discovered the day’s mode of transportation. Clambering onto the bus, many jockeyed for window seats, settling in for the ride to the beach.

Ida continued to watch from the front bay window, waiting for Taylor. She was surprised the horses didn’t bolt and run with all the commotion the girls were causing. Then the front door opened and Ida smiled.

The first surprise of the day.

“Well, hello, Jackson,” she said. “I see that you were able to fill-in for the driver after all. It’s difficult to secure someone to escort us sometimes—you know how this town is about ladies like us.” Ida chuckled at Jackson’s quick blush

She turned to see Taylor standing nearby. “Rose, I believe you’ve met Jackson. He’ll be driving us to the beach today.”

Taylor stared, complete surprise on her face. “Hello, Jackson.”

“Hello, Rose, I’m happy to be escorting all of you today. And a pretty day it is.” Jackson’s voice was neutral, but pleasant.

“Jackson, will you get the picnic basket?” Ida asked.

Jackson lifted the basket with a groan. “Shall we go? Ladies, after you.” Jackson followed Ida and Taylor outside, nudging the door closed with his hip.

“Rose, I’m afraid you’ll have to share the driver’s bench with Jackson. The bus looks awfully full.” Ida gave Taylor a quick nod of encouragement, turning quickly away before Taylor could argue the point.

Jackson climbed into the front of the bus, secured the basket, and offered a helping hand to Taylor. Ida hummed a happy tune as she joined her boisterous girls inside the bus. They were all anxious to begin the day, and were soon hanging out the windows shouting for Jackson to hurry along and get the horses moving. He obliged as soon as Taylor was secure next to him.

The sights of a wild and long-ago San Diego soon distracted Taylor from her initial thoughts of hesitation, and she soon had Jackson chattering away about the buildings and sights along their route to the beach.

Taylor began to feel the elation of liberation, just as Ida’s girls must be feeling—based on their squeals of joy and excited conversation. She was on her way to the shore for a day with friends, not so different than she’d have chosen to do on a pretty summer day in her own time. She should do as Ida suggested, relax and enjoy the break.

“Do you like the beach?” Jackson asked, breaking Taylor’s momentary silence.

“My father taught me to love the water. I’ve been swimming since I was three.”

“Does he live up the coast?”

“He died about several years ago,” Taylor answered, avoiding any specific reference to where he was from.

“I’m sorry, Rose...and your mother?” Jackson continued.

“Actually she died right after I was born,” Taylor answered softly.

“So, you’re alone, then?”

“Well, I suppose so, though I don’t really feel alone. I have friends, of course, and plenty to keep me busy.” She needed to keep things vague, of course, and probably had said too much. Was he fishing for information like she intended to do?

“We’re here!” squealed one of Ida’s girls.

The bus stopped in front of the Ocean Beach Hotel, a splendid white wooden building, two stories high. The hotel’s wide, roofed porch extended along the entire side and ended with an elegant gazebo that was filled with guests sipping beverages and enjoying the ocean breeze.

Jackson tossed the reins to an awaiting stable attendant, who stood patiently next to the front wheel of the bus.

Ida’s girls noisily exited the bus, waving cheerfully at the men on the porch. Wives tugged at their husbands’ arms in aggravation, trying to distract them from ogling the busload of ladies of ill repute.

One man called out, “Halloo, Ida! Out for day of play, today?”

Recognizing him as one of her girls’ regulars, Ida replied, “Why, yes, kind sir. Everyone needs a change of scenery now and then, wouldn’t you agree?” She laughed at the women’s prompt displays of disgust and the reddening cheeks of the men’s faces.

A shrill voice from the porch called out, “You should be ashamed to bring those harlots to a respectable hotel!”

Taylor watched as Ida simply ignored the comment and instead seemed to wear an air of self-confidence. She watched as Jackson climbed down from his perch, hoisted the picnic basket down from the floor of the driver’s seat, and then offered a hand to her.

Their eyes locked for a long moment as she eyed him for signs of embarrassment or discomfort over the reaction of the hotel’s guests to Ida’s girls. She found only an expression of complete unconcern. He obviously was not bothered by the rude remarks. Keeping her own expression composed, she boldly stared into Jackson’s eyes. A mischievous look came into his eyes, and she smiled in approval.

He answered her unuttered question. “No, it doesn’t bother me to be here, surrounded by Ida’s pretty girls...and you. Now, let’s move this bevy of beauties to the beach where we won’t distract these fine folk.”

Both joined Ida and the girls, who were already making their way past the hotel and down to the waterfront. Jackson patiently followed as the women sprinted around the sand and searched for the perfect site. Laughing and giggling, the group sounded more like young schoolgirls playing hooky.

Finally they reached an isolated area of beach with a long stretch of sandy shore. The spot was declared ideal and shoes were swiftly removed. Skirts were raised to keep them dry while small groups paired up to wade or search for shells along the wet sand. Ida asked Taylor to spread the blankets and secure the basket, nudging her gently toward the approaching Jackson. Before she could protest, Ida had left her alone and joined the others on the sand.

Taylor turned to wait for Jackson, taking the blanket bundle from him.

“I guess this is the spot.” She spread each of the blankets out while he placed the picnic basket at his feet.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” he asked as he promptly sat down, quickly removing his shirt and shoes, and rolling up his pant legs. He looked up at Taylor, squinting from the bright glare. The sun behind her created an angelic halo-glow around his head, and she brought her hand up to shade her eyes from the brightness.

“Yes,” she answered, and swiftly undid her skirt to reveal cotton trousers underneath that had already been rolled up in preparation. Her hat tossed aside, her blouse came off next, revealing a cotton tank top that would have produced more than a few gasps from the Victorian ladies at the hotel. Though she knew her black bikini would have been out of the question, Taylor had decided that the beach might be isolated enough to at least wear a sleeveless top.

Jackson’s eyes widened slightly at her unconventional dress, but before he could utter a word, she had raced down to the shore.

“Let’s go!” she called over her shoulder.

 

* * *

 

Jackson grabbed a small flannel blanket and wrapped it around his neck. Then he sprang to his feet to follow Rose who had already reached the waves that were gently lapping the sandy edge. He vowed to continue in his quest to discover more about her, but also decided that part of this day could be rest and relaxation. He had been so serious about gaining the trust of Wyatt Earp at the saloon, that he’d taken few days off to enjoy the beautiful areas of San Diego. He was afraid of distraction, afraid to lose his focus on why he was there. Somewhere inside he felt the tension ease—at least for the moment, at least for one day.

Taylor was ankle deep in the water when he joined her. Bent over at the waist, she looked up at him with her fingers at her lips.

“Move slowly, and come here. There’s a small sting ray resting about three feet from me. Look,” she whispered, pointing towards the beach.

Jackson followed her lead, but not before he noticed that the gap in her top revealed the crest of her bosom. He was surprised that she wore no undergarments. The immediate hardness in his loins shocked him even more, and his gaze lingered deliciously at the sight of the sunlight rippling on her ivory breasts. He imagined how it would feel to again bring their pink tips to crested peaks, as he had in the garden when he and the mysterious Rose had last spent time together.

“Do you see it?” she asked, glancing up at Jackson. Instantly, she seemed to realize where he had been gazing, and her cheeks grew pink. Then she cleared her throat, pretending not to be affected. But he knew she was. There was no mistaking it.

Jackson severed his gaze from Rose to the resting creature she pointed to. He moved slowly closer to her and squatted in the water to gain a better view of the animal.

Her attention drawn back to the water, Rose moved toward the ray, squatted, and reached out her hand. Now moving painstakingly slow, he watched as she stroked her forefinger slowly along the back of the ray before it flapped its wings and swam away with a splash.

Both stood, and Taylor grinned in delight. “They’re so soft, and such an odd creature don’t you think?”

“How do you know of such things?” he asked. “It’s called a sting ray, you say? Have you studied sea creatures, then?”

 

* * *

 

“Oh, not really…I’ve just seen them before.”  She had swallowed her first thought—which had been to talk about the tide pool at Sea World, where she had attended many birthday parties for young friends over the years. At times she found line so blurry between the reality of her present and this place in the past that was, at least for now, her new present. Especially in moments like these when the contrast simply wasn’t there. Right now she was just spending the day at the beach with someone she truly wanted to know more about.

“Let’s walk along the shore, shall we?” She turned and walked towards the sandy beach, hoping to distract Jackson from asking more questions. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed some of the girls were lounging on the blankets while others had shed their outer clothes and were swimming in bloomers and camisoles. She was tempted to join them. The water was exceptionally warm and the sun was beginning to bake her skin. She reached down for a handful of water and splashed her arms and neck, letting some of the coolness trickle down her front.

“The water feels great. Do you swim, Jackson?” She turned to check his response. Nodding, he followed her example and splashed his chest with the warm ocean water. She briefly wondered if his broad shoulders ever tired of the burden he carried, but soon she was distracted by his inky black chest hair glistening with moisture. She stared at him in simple adoration—his chest muscles were perfectly developed, and his stomach was flat and toned. Modern weight lifters would be envious of his athletic physique, his defined muscles a product of hard work and not from a daily regimen at the local health club.

Silently they walked side by side along the shore, and she felt herself begin to relax, enjoying the sunshine and the moist sea air.

 

* * *

 

“I do love it here,” Jackson said pensively, his mood becoming slightly somber. He knew he would never again see the shores of San Diego once he’d completed his mission. He had accepted the fact that he might die in the process of avenging his father’s murder, or be forced to live the rest of his life as a fugitive, or worse, in prison. Whatever happened, he knew he would soon leave this western paradise behind.

He would miss it.

A heap of enormous boulders forced them to clamber over the rocks in order to continue their way down the shore and instinctively he took Rose’s hand as they carefully made their way over the slippery surface of the boulders. Once again, he felt a charge of electricity jolt up to his elbow the instant their hands joined. This time, he tightened his grasp on her hand until the tingle subsided into a warm glow.

Rose didn’t remove her hand from his until they had cleared the rocks and were once again on a small strip of sandy shore. The moment she let go, he felt the absence of her touch, that certain connection he couldn’t deny.

He would miss her as well.

The small cove was beyond the view of the others, and the uneven shoreline had created a perfect bathing lagoon. A perfect spot to be alone with the beautiful Rose.

 

Forever Rose: Chapter Sixteen

 

 

Jackson watched as Rose stepped into the calm water of the protected cove. It should be as warm as bathwater here. The still air intensified the heat of the late morning sun and he guessed the water temperature would reflect that.

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