The Keeping (11 page)

Without warning,
their location changed. No longer in the woods, she was now in her
bed at the cabin and the man was still with her, kissing her quite
thoroughly. He nibbled on her lower lip and then sucked on it
before kissing her deeply again. His body pressed hers into the
mattress and she enjoyed the feel of his hard muscles and long
limbs entwining with her own. She wasn’t exactly sure when the
covers had disappeared, but it didn’t matter. There was enough heat
generating from him to keep her warm.

She felt him
working his hands along the bottom of her t-shirt and moaned
encouragingly when he finally touched her bare stomach and hips. He
left off kissing her and moved lower, trailing his lips down her
throat and capturing her nipple in his mouth. Her t-shirt quickly
grew damp, and the combined warmth of his mouth and the roughness
of the material had her gasping in pleasure.

Heat pooled
between her legs and she moved restlessly. As if knowing what she
needed, he moved his hand to her core, brushing against her soft
curls and then cupping her femininity. Heat radiated from his hand
and she wiggled against his palm, aching to feel his fingers
between her folds.

Gripping his back,
she began to whimper with need and he finally relented, stroking
and teasing her eager flesh. Mel felt herself growing wet, the
aching need increasing. When he finally slipped a finger inside
her, she nearly cried out in joy. He was tugging at her other
nipple now, the pleasure-pain shooting down to her core and
combining with the sweet torture of his fingering. Her breathing
grew ragged and she felt her back arching off the bed, her muscles
tightening and straining until the tension burst in a sweet wave of
release.

Panting, she lay
on the bed with her eyes closed, faint tremors still coursing
through her. The mystery man brushed a warm kiss across her brow.
The mattress shifted as he stood and then blankets softly fell over
her. Smiling, she murmured her thanks and rolled onto her side,
exhaustion beginning to take over. Wishing to cuddle now, she
reached out her arm to pull her phantom lover to her side, but
couldn’t find him. Forcing her eyes open, she looked around
blearily, but the room was empty. Letting her head drop back onto
the pillow, she frowned, but then memory kicked in—it had just been
a dream. With a disappointed sigh, she fell back asleep.

*****

The sound of the
alarm ringing in her ear jerked Mel awake. She threw her arm out
and groped wildly for the source of the annoying sound, grunting
with pleasure as she made contact and silenced the evil piece of
technology. Allowing herself a moment to reorient with reality, she
lay there recalling her dream. Wow! It was, without a doubt, the
best sex dream she’d ever had. The sensations had been so real, the
release fantastic. Giving a yawn and a stretch, she gave a
satisfied smile—way to go imagination! Pulling back the covers
while simultaneously swinging her legs over the edge of the bed,
she gave a final yawn and stretch while feeling around with her
feet for her slippers.

Rubbing the sleep
from her eyes, Mel stumbled to the kitchen and turned on the coffee
maker, pleased that she had thought to prepare it the night before.
While the blessed drink brewed, she headed to the bathroom for a
shower. Her dream had left her feeling sweaty and a bit sticky.

Adjusting the
water, she peeled off her t-shirt and stepped under the hot spray.
The feel of the water sluicing over her was heavenly and she wished
she could just stand there and revel in the sensation. Mindful that
the cabin probably used well water, she quickened her ablutions,
not wanting to waste what was probably a limited supply. With
practised speed, she washed herself and her hair, removed stubble
from legs and arm pits and turned off the water, pleased with her
efficiency. Her apartment in Chicago had a precarious hot water
system and she’d learned how to make the best of what was often a
scarce commodity.

Wrapped in a terry
cloth robe, she grabbed her t-shirt and headed for the bedroom,
intent on tucking the garment under her pillow for use the next
night. Casually folding the make-shift night shirt, her hands
stilled as she stared at the front. That was strange. Two
distinctly wrinkled spots stood out on the front, right where her
breasts would be. Huh? She frowned and ran her fingers over the
area, recalling her dream from the previous night. Her imaginary
lover had suckled her through the t-shirt, but it hadn’t been real
so how...? A blush washed over her face. Had she been groping
herself in her dreams? That would explain the wrinkled
material...sort of... Gnawing on her lip, she wondered what other
explanation there could possibly be, but none came to mind. The
idea that a man had appeared in her room and made love to her while
she slept was utterly ridiculous.

Giving her head a
shake, she finished putting the t-shirt away and made her bed, then
went in search of her coffee. The wonderful smell of fresh caffeine
was floating through the small cabin, perking up her senses and
further activating her brain. Leaning against the counter, she
contemplated her day.

She’d have to
contact Aldrich and let him know that she had found where Taylor
lived, but hadn’t yet made an appointment to interview him. That
was the truth. Her contact with the man yesterday didn’t need to be
part of the report.

Mentally, she gave
herself another kick for trying to sneak onto the man’s property.
It had been foolish and amateurish, more suited to a cheap spy
novel than a journalist who had a paying client. Being impulsive
had always been her downfall and she kept hoping that with age,
she’d finally learn to control herself, thus avoiding incidents
like yesterday. So far, maturity wasn’t helping.

Maybe she could
blame her mother, she chuckled. The woman wasn’t there to defend
herself and she had been flighty in her day—and still was, if the
truth be told. Mel loved her mother dearly, but the woman was in
the habit of just picking up and moving with no warning, simply
because something had caught her fancy. Usually it was a man, but
sometimes it was a charitable cause, something she’d seen on a
travel show or the need to undertake a new career like pottery or
bee-keeping. While she’d been young, her mother had tried to curb
her gypsy ways, but once Mel was grown, the restlessness had
returned.

Mel understood.
She had the same feeling herself to a lesser extent; always looking
for the one thing that would ‘fit’ and fill what seemed to be a
void inside her. She hadn’t found it in any of her previous
relationships or jobs, and hoped this current endeavour was the
right one.

Her mother was
still searching for meaning in her life, presently living in
Florida with a man named Fred, and doing something with
seashells—Mel didn’t really understand the enterprise and knew
better than to ask. The explanation would be long and complicated
yet leave her with no clearer understanding for the telling.

Sometimes Mel
wondered if her mother would have been more settled, if her father
had stayed around. Of course, that hadn’t happened. Her mother had
merely been a week-long fling for the man. He hadn’t left a number
or an address and probably didn’t even know or care that he had a
daughter.

It didn’t really
matter to Mel though. Her mother had raised her by herself and
they’d survived, just the two of them. There had been no
grandparents to lend a hand, but friends had rallied around and Mel
had grown up surrounded by her mother’s good friends that became
her honorary aunts and uncles. Frowning, she realized she hadn’t
seen some of those people in almost a year. Maybe when this job
finished, she’d make time for a visit...

Mulling the idea
over in her head, Mel dressed and prepared to head into town in
search of a phone to call Aldrich. Afterwards, she’d try to contact
Taylor again, by more conventional means this time. With any luck,
he wouldn’t be the kind to hold a grudge...

Chapter 8

For some reason,
Mel found herself driving by Ryne’s property, rather than heading
straight to town. She hadn’t consciously decided to do it, but had
been day-dreaming about nothing in particular and the car seemed to
have a mind of its own. Once she realized where she was, she
resolved to drive right on by, even as her foot was depressing the
brake pedal and her hand was shifting the car into park.

She sat in the
idling car, staring at the locked gates and chewing on her lip, not
at all sure why she was here. A repeat of yesterday was definitely
not in the cards, so what would she gain by staring at the locked
gate? Nothing really, but something drew her to this place. Could
it be the fact that Ryne was behind the gates. Possibly. There
was
the hint of mystery that seemed to surround the man, and
she’d always loved solving puzzles. What was so important about
this man that Greyson was paying her to get information on him? Was
it just his photographs or was there something else? And why was
Ryne so obsessive about his privacy? A padlocked gate, a half mile
long driveway, living in the middle of nowhere in an out of the way
town that few people had ever heard of... It all seemed a bit
excessive to someone such as herself, who’d lived most of her life
in the city surrounded by people. Maybe, if she ever got to
interview the man, she’d get some answers to those questions.

Well, sitting here
speculating wasn’t going to do her any good. Mel lifted her hand to
the gearshift and was just about to put the car into drive, when
she noticed someone walking down the road. She hesitated for a
moment as a little stab of excitement shot through her. A friendly
conversation with one of the neighbours might prove to be useful.
Neighbours in small towns knew things about each other, didn’t
they? Eagerly, she awaited the arrival of her possible information
source.

It was soon
evident that the approaching figure belonged to a man. He was tall,
good looking and around her age, with sandy blonde hair and hazel
eyes. His stride faltered when he saw that she was obviously
waiting for him and she wondered momentarily if he was about to
turn around and retreat. His hesitation was brief, however. Soon a
wide grin spread across his face and he walked up to her
jauntily.

She rolled down
her window and called out a friendly greeting. “Hello. It’s a
lovely morning, isn’t it?”

“Sure is.” The man
stopped beside her car and looked down at her, his brows raised in
inquiry. “I’m surprised to see you...I mean...someone out here. We
don’t get too many visitors.”

“I imagine not,
given how off-the-beaten-path it is. Actually, I’m interested in
meeting Ryne Taylor. I’ve heard he lives here. Do you know
him?”

The man seemed to
be suppressing a chuckle and Mel quickly glanced at her face in the
rear-view mirror. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d had something
on her face accidentally. Nope, all was clear. Maybe the guy was
just the cheerful type.

“Yeah, I know
Ryne. He’s my Alph... Er...friend.”

“So you live
around here?” Mel felt her spirits perk up. This man just might
prove to be a fount of knowledge about her photographer.

“Uh-huh. I
actually live with him. We’ve been together for about five months
now.”

“Really?”
Hopefully, her shock didn’t show on her face. The idea that Taylor
might be gay had never crossed her mind. Darn, it was always the
cute ones. She felt herself inexplicably wanting to pout over the
fact, not that she’d really been interested in the man of course!
But still...

Something niggled
in her brain. No. That couldn’t be right. Taylor couldn’t be
batting for the other team. From the way everyone spoke, he was a
ladies’ man. A switch hitter? Nah... This fellow must mean
something entirely different by the term ‘been together’ than the
popular vernacular. Refocusing, she gently probed for more
information. “So it’s just the two of you?”

“No, Daniel lives
with us, too. I’m Bryan, by the way.”

She nodded her
head, and shook the hand he extended towards her, and offered her
name in return. Not quite sure what to make of the situation, she
decided it wasn’t any of her business anyway. Her main focus should
be on meeting Taylor and getting him to agree to an interview.
Possibly this person was her way in. “Well, I’d really like to meet
him. I’ve seen some of his pictures and he’s an amazing
photographer. Do you think he’d be willing to see me and discuss
his work?”

Bryan hesitated,
then shrugged. “He’s not much of a talker, so I wouldn’t count on
it, but you never know.”

“Could you give me
his phone number so I could call him? I didn’t see a number in the
phone book, but maybe it’s under your name?”

“No, it’s a
private number. I suppose I could ask him for you. Do you have a
phone number he could reach you at?”

Mel shook her head
regretfully. “My cell is having some trouble picking up a signal,
and the cabin I’m at doesn’t have a phone hooked up...oh, but he
could leave a message for me with the Kennedys and I could get back
to him!” She hoped Beth wouldn’t mind and made a mental note to ask
her, as soon as she got back.

Bryan nodded. “The
Kennedys? Sure. Everyone knows who they are. That should work.”

“Thanks. It’s been
nice talking to you.” She started the car, gave a cheery wave, and
drove off. Glancing back in her mirror as she went on her way, she
was surprised that there was no sign of Bryan. Apparently, he moved
just as fast as Taylor did!

*****

Back in town, Mel
made her way to the diner, recalling from yesterday that it had a
pay phone in the entrance way. She listened to the rings while
twirling the cord around her finger and mentally rehearsing her
report. Finally, the answering machine picked up. Aldrich wasn’t in
the office. Relieved, Mel left a message, thanking her lucky stars
at being able to avoid talking to the man. He really did give her
the creeps.