Tennessee Touch, Sisters of Spirit #6 (9 page)

“Definitely. Man are you ever fast to take offense.”

“The last bozo who said that to me was not referring to anything having to do with interpreting,” she informed him, still testy at his remark.

“What happened to him?”

“How do you know anything happened?”

He just looked at her.

“I didn’t do much,” she defended herself.

“Just?”

“Just slammed the door in his face when he tried to follow me through. He had been bumping and touching me whenever he could, so when I went through and he started to follow, I hit him with it.”

“I will definitely keep my hands to myself.” He clasped them behind him.

“You’re doing okay, so far,” she said, smiling at his exaggerated look of relief.

“I have to ask. Why do you run with a can of Mace in your hand?”

“A girl was murdered in this park last week. I thought I was the next victim." She still had lingering doubts about him. “You weren’t wearing running clothes. And I couldn’t tell who it was, with the dark glasses.”

"Ah," he groaned, shaking his head in chagrin. “Now I know why you reacted so. My bad.”

“If you insist on wearing those glasses....”

“I get it. I’ll try to remember to take them off around you.”

“Are they prescription? I didn’t think—”

“No. I’m just used to wearing them.” He glanced at his watch again. Shook his head. “I’ve got to leave. I didn’t have much choice of plane seats.”

Logan’s cell phone rang and he glanced quickly at the number.
Alison!

“Hello!”

“Hi there.”

“Good to hear from you again.” Her second call this week. This time she had only waited two days before calling.

“Where are you today?” she asked.

“Pittsburgh.”
In the locker room. Trying to talk to you and at the same time suit up for the game.

“It sounds like you’re in a crowd.”

“A bunch of friends are with me.”
And coaches and trainers and a trio of rookies getting their first taste of NFL schedules.

“What are you up to?”

“Not much.”
A knock-down drag-out football game with one of the toughest teams we’re going to face.
Although the other team was missing their strong safety, who had been knocked down a stairwell yesterday while in a crowded shopping area.

“Welding?”

“It’s the steel capital, you know.” He had to get the subject changed. “How are you doing?”

“I just went out to see my brother. I always come away so depressed. I decided a call to you might lift my spirits.”

He waved away Jake, who was motioning him to hurry up. Jake started to walk away, then reversed directions, grabbed some of Logan’s clothes and started laying them along the bench. Inside out.

“Can I call you back in a few hours? This is just not the right time. Or else you call me back. I won’t have my phone on me for awhile, so might not answer right away.”

Jake was doing all sorts of animated faces.

“Jake is here and thinks he’s a clown and is making it hard to talk.” Logan finally nodded “yes” to get Jake to leave. Which thankfully he did.

Her laugh was delightful. “Why don’t you call me then?”

“Yes. Thank you. In a few hours.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” He hung up and dressed in record time, slowing down when he put on his socks. They were wet. Jake had dropped them in some ice water, so he had to fish through his bag and get a dry pair he carried, just in case.

Her interpreting work finished for the day, Alison came out into a particularly heavy September shower. A true Seattle dweller, she didn't bother with a rain hat or an umbrella. They were a nuisance to carry around, and if the rain did come down hard, a person just waited a few minutes until it lightened up or quit and then went on about one's business. Or else made a mad dash from building to car like Alison was doing right now, head down, hunched body protecting the book she was carrying, feet splashing through the shallow puddles.

It had been nice and warm and lovely out that morning—clear blue skies—so she hadn't even bothered wearing a coat. But her white cotton blouse and flared apple-green skirt wouldn't be hurt by a little water. And neither would she.

Unlocking her car door and flinging it open, she dove in headfirst, reached out to pull the door shut, and found Logan there, water pouring off him as he held the door open and looked inside.

She jumped. “Oh!”

“Sorry. Didn’t want you to drive away without knowing I was here. Anyplace we can go to talk?”

He was drenched. He must have waited for her in the parking lot, standing in the rain. His dark hair, plastered down, was dripping wet; raindrops still clinging to his face and hands. No coat or hat, and his clinging wet polo shirt revealed the depth of muscle tone she had only guessed at before.

It had been two weeks since she had seen him, two days since they had last spoken on the phone. He hadn’t mentioned coming to Seattle.

“The teacher’s lounge.” She thought about walking with him through the halls, still full of students, past some of the boys she saw every day, and decided against it. “No. Let’s go to another restaurant. A fast food place.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll follow you.”

“I sent my cab away. Didn’t know how long it would take.” He pulled out his cell phone. “You’ll have to wait.”

“Shut the door and get in,” she said. “We can talk in here.”

He nodded, closed her door and sprinted around to the other side. He was getting wetter, if possible, by the second.

Her door was still locked on that side and it took a second for her to realize that and click the switch, another second to toss her book onto the back seat and pull her purse over on her lap. Her purse with the Mace in it.

He dropped in beside her. “Thanks. I hoped you weren’t going to leave me out there.”

“A little rain won’t hurt you.”

“No. But that rain is not lit...tle.” He stopped speaking, looked out the window. The rain had stopped. He tossed his wet head sharply to fling away the droplets still running down his face. “I guess it was a little rain.”

He was fogging up the interior and she turned on the engine, then the defrost and heater. She turned the air on high.

“I’d just as soon not stay here in the parking lot,” she said, “since there are lots of curious young men who will entertain themselves with remarks about you for the rest of the school year.”

“Anywhere you want to go,” he said.

She pulled out onto the road and drove along, trying to keep her mind on her driving and not on the hunk sitting near her. Spotting a gas station she pulled in.

"I'm out of gas." It was a true fact—she had planned to fill up on the way home. The marker was touching the E.

He opened his door, got out. “I’ll fill it.”

It gave her time to figure out what she wanted to do. She pulled up the small lever to open the tank lid, then handed him the keys to unlock the cap. “Thanks. Regular.”

She hadn’t had anyone fill the tank for her since she had last been in Oregon. He used his credit card, and was soon filling her tank, while she was still trying to figure out where to go. Not to her apartment. One of the malls? They could walk along and talk.

She looked up at the bright sun peeking through fast-moving clouds. They would dry off sooner outdoors. A park? No. The zoo.

She hadn’t been to the Woodland Park Zoo for several years, but it made a perfect place to get to know someone. Plenty of people around. But he vetoed her idea.

“I found a place when I was here last time, near the Alderwood Mall. I had to turn around or would have ended up driving to Canada. We can sit in the car and talk—leave the doors open so I’ll dry out.”

She headed north on the freeway, past the green highway signs with their white letters, the Scotch Broom growing in bunches on the sides of the road, over the long bridge which spanned the ship canal. It was too early for heavy homeward traffic, but she still appreciated his silence as she drove.

He directed her onto a freeway off-ramp at Alderwood, down a narrow side street...then off that into an unused lane overgrown, tree-lined, and deserted. The car bumped slowly along and she stopped just off the road; the stillness complete when she turned off the engine. They could have been a hundred miles from civilization instead of less than a few hundred feet.

"That's better." Logan said, opening his side door and turning towards her. "I didn't realize I was getting so wet. The rain here is deceptive."

Small talk; it didn't tell her anything...or was he trying to put her at ease?

"It's been raining for two days," she agreed, opening her door and turning slightly on the seat to face him. Her purse was open on her lap. She rested her hand inside as she spoke, found the can of Mace with her fingers and made sure the nozzle was pointed in the right direction.

Overhead the clouds looked to be clearing completely.

“Let’s walk,” he said, bending forward, and she registered the words just in time and kept her fingers still.

“Okay.” She gathered the purse closer and scooted outside.

They left the car and walked up the lane a short distance to a large fir tree where they continued to talk. Actually, where he asked questions and she answered. She hadn't learned very much more about him than she had at the lake, although now he had a background.

Pleasant, congenial...with a smile that flashed now and then, able to laugh at himself...a virile man who was apologetic for disturbing her, yet stubbornly determined to get to know her...and too persistent to leave after being rebuffed.

He had a forceful personality; a man used to getting what he went after. While answering some of his questions she felt like she was being interrogated...for when she hesitated or tried to slide past what he wanted, he brought her up short and hammered at the point until he had an answer.

Maybe he was a policeman, after all. An undercover agent or an investigator, used to learning all he could about a suspect. He could certainly say he was getting to know her. She hadn't told anyone this much about herself at one time...ever.

"I'm running out of time; we'll have to go in a few minutes," he finally stated, reluctant to bring their meeting to a close. He drug his toe across the ground, rumpling up the carpet of fir needles. "Would you let me kiss you, please? Just once?" he asked and waited, gazing at her with such a hesitant-hopeful look that she had a hard time keeping from smiling.

By this time she felt more comfortable with him, but she wasn't yet ready to grant him that favor. It would have been more in character if he had just helped himself, like he had to the rest of her life, but perhaps he felt he had intruded enough.

If he meant her no harm, let him wait and prove it.

"No." The single word was curt and decisive, and came out much more harshly than she had intended. The hurt disappointment flashed briefly in his blue eyes before he lowered them.