Uninhibited in Apple Trail, Arkansas - Volume 2 (11 page)

He frowned. “I wonder where they all went.”

“Scrap metal when your great-great grandmother moved out would be my guess. From what they say, she sold off basically everything that wasn’t nailed down and blew this town faster than a tornado riding a hurricane without a look back.”

He winced. “All that history.”

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “On farther out in those trees there’s some abandoned oil wells.”

Now that got his interest. Because abandoned wells for this long likely meant possibilities. Already knowing the location of those wells would have him stepping in the right direction. “How close?”

“Umm.” She stared at the tree line. “Not too far in those trees. There’s a few I can think of right off hand.”

“You know more than I figured you would.”

She shrugged. “Trivia. Did you know your taste buds die off every ten days?”

He blinked.

She laughed. “Sorry. I can’t help it.”

“Don’t apologize.”

Her hands returned to her back pockets and he really wished she’d stop doing that. From the back, it sagged her shorts and showed the slimmest bit of tanned skin he imagined was darkened from leaning over her bike.

From the front, it forced her full breasts forward. And he shouldn’t be noticing things like the roundness of her tits or wondering if he stared hard enough, maybe he could see pebbled nipples. He should be paying attention to her mind, wits, and other shit like that. Important stuff.

She looked away from the tree line and settled her blue-eyed gaze on him. “Where are you staying? I can show you to the Baked Apple Inn.”

“
Baked Apple Inn
? Does everything here have those corny names? Couldn’t help but notice the street signs.”

She chuckled and stepped closer. “I wouldn’t be laughing too hard. It was your ancestors who created it.”

He shook his head, wanting to retreat now that she was closer. Her pink lips parted and waiting. Tits still thrust out and nearly touching his chest. She stood close enough he could smell her perfume. Something sweet and soft. Not fruit, but just woman. A woman his fingers were curling to get his hands on, to have her chest on his, to hear her breathless pants against his ear and know how her naked body would slide along his.

Enough sense threaded through and he headed back to the safe zone of his truck. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m staying here.”

“Here?” Her gaze drifted to the old house. “But you just said you didn’t trust it.”

“Camping. I’ll need to go to that grocery store for a few things in a few days, but I have most all I need for now.”

“Okay, let me finish showing you around.”

“You don’t have something to do?”

“Nope. I grew up here, but just got back in town this morning for the first time in about five years. I’d been here all of about an hour before you.”

“Well, thanks, but you probably have family and stuff to see. I don’t want to take up your day.”

“Ha.” She walked to her motorcycle and pulled a .9 mm from a saddle bag. “My brother is all I have here and he already did the rundown this morning for excuses I could have returned. We were just getting to the good stuff when you showed up.” She counted off on her fingers with the barrel of her gun. “STDs, pregnancy and cancer when you walked up. So, yeah. I love my brother more than anyone else, but no thanks on any more of that for now, meaning I’m free for the day.”

He glanced between her and the gun dangling from her hands.

She laughed. “I’m clear on all accounts.” She frowned. “At least on the STDs and being knocked up. If I have cancer, I’m not aware, but I feel fine.”

Good to know, but at the moment he was more concerned about the gun she waved around like a sparkler. “Any reason for the gun?”

“Yes. Rattlesnakes and water moccasins.” She checked the magazine. “Don’t worry, I have a license to carry concealed and I won’t shoot you on accident, I don’t think. I might trip or something. Or I guess it could always go off on its own… I’ve heard people say that, usually by people who’ve been shot in the leg, but I’ve never had that happen before and I’ve been handling guns since I was a girl.”

He swallowed. “You’re talkative.”

She bent and pulled a belt clip holster out, slid the pistol in and set it aside. “That’s what I’m told. I can’t help it. This place makes me a little nutty. Restless like my skin is crawling.”

Why not? It was a long drive from his part of Texas to south central Arkansas and her voice was easy to listen to. And this was the part he was supposed to be looking at right? All this mind and thought stuff.

Progress.

He knew coming here was a good idea. If his mom was alive, she’d be proud. Grant a month ago would have already been seeing about having this chick on the ground…or against the side of his truck. Likely both. Pictures filled his mind of that and he shook his head. “So why come back?”

For the first time, she was silent. Her brows were drawn together. Her gaze lifted to meet his and a sad smile touched her lips. “Missed my brother.”

Yeah. Sure. But he let it slide for now. No need in taking this learning-the-mind thing too far. “Do you still know the people around this town?”

“Yep. Spend an hour with the waitress from the gas station and you’ll know them all too.”

He figured he could probably spend thirty minutes with Rebecca, but he didn’t say that. “I need a few things done and you could save me some time, if you’re not busy. And I’ll pay you.”

“I’m on vacation pay, so never mind that, but I’ll do whatever to keep my hands busy.” Her eyes brightened. “What do you need?”

“The grounds clear-cut, the house looked at for safety. The well checked. See about electricity put in the house. Just for starters.” He wanted this place looking like a home or on the way to it before his brothers got here. He wanted something to show them, to make them see it was worth a little hard work.

She blinked. “You’re moving here?”

“I’m not sure. I might be spending some time here, but either way, I don’t allow my things to waste away to nothing. It could be a summer home. Or something to rent out. If nothing else, it could hold some historical significance. Can you recommend someone to get started on those things?”

“Absolutely. Can probably have some of it start in the morning. I don’t know about the cost or anything.” She returned to her saddlebags.

“Not an issue.”

“Well, okay then…not an issue to get any of that done. I’ll call someone I know from high school who does some construction. The house is going to need some walls gutted and such. I know that much already.”

“Ah. Even better that you do this for me. You’ve already been inside and know what I need.”

She had the good grace to blush that time. And then something apparently sprang to mind and her brows rose and lips parted. “I’ll grab my brother’s four-wheeler in the morning. Show you the land. If you want.”

That he would like, because then he could see about where these teenagers were breaking-in on his property at and end it, even if he had to run a fence line around the entire place. It’d also give him some preliminary places to check for signs of what had pulled him here, for what it would take to get his brothers here.

Oil.

This area wasn’t called Arkansas’s Original Boom Town for nothing. Those wells had been pumped at most for a year before his great-great-grandpa died and his great-great-grandma packed up, closed up and left. That was before they even knew about oil hiding in sandstone. The formations in this ground had to be just about bursting.

Forget working for someone else. If Grant found signs, and he damn well should, he and his brothers could quit working for Dewey Oil, dig their own well and sell off the barrels.

Life would be set. No more of this traveling and holidays spent apart. No more worrying about where one brother was or what he was getting into. There would be enough here to keep them all busy.

“Do you have any flags or tape to mark the trees you want to keep? I imagine you have some pretty good young hardwoods out there and when someone cuts, they’ll either leave you every skinny twig or take it all. Might as well do that while we’re out here looking around so if someone comes to start clearing tomorrow, we’ll be set.” She looked toward what used to be the front yard but was now nothing but woods, then dug into another saddle bag.

“Yeah, I’ve got some tape.”

“Good.” She pulled out a pair of jeans. “Give me a second to slip on some pants so the stickers don’t eat me up.”

“Oka—”

She flipped open the button of her shorts and they hit the ground along with his mouth as she stood not four feet away in bright purple panties.

She winked. Again.

And again, he thought things he shouldn’t be thinking.

Chapter Three

His eyes walked all over her leaving a tingling trail to dance across her skin. No man had ever looked at her with such raw, male intensity. He stared at her with his eyes full of heat. The hairs along her arms stood, nearly feeling the pads of his thumb—that would have to be roughened by work—caressing along her body. A warm summer breeze danced up her spine and she shivered under his perusal. It was either choke or laugh, so Rebecca forced a chuckle as she stepped out of her shorts. “Just a swimsuit. I left home in a hurry last night and didn’t take time to change.”

He spun on his heel and dug in the back of his truck without a word, cutting off one of the strongest sexual feelings she’d ever encountered. Lord have mercy, and he hadn’t even touched her.

Slipping on the shoes of her old self felt damn good. Never would she have dropped her pants like that in Florida, not even in front of ex-boyfriend-never-will-he-be-her-fiancé, Peter. Peter would have been mortified if she’d stripped outside. Would have turned as red as sunburn in July if she’d ever done such a thing.

In Florida, she’d nearly been suffocated. But now she was home and after five years of being away, minding her manners and being the perfect little southern girl, she was ready to finally live up to the full extent of that reputation she’d been labeled with here in Apple Trail.

With her tongue thick in her mouth and her thighs achy, she did mean
finally
. She pulled up her jeans and buttoned them. Still he dug in the back of his truck. Well, was she Rebecca Gabel or not? It was time to move beyond talking the talk and start walking it. The infamous Rebecca would walk over there.

So she did. Carefully, so not to stomp and let him know she was close. Standing just behind him, close enough to touch, close enough to smell the faint scent of leather coming from his back, close enough to lean in and press a kiss to his spine. Or to lick the thick black line of the tattoo curling across his shoulder and down his arm. More of it was hidden on his back, just a shadow under his white tank. She was ready to peel off the shirt and see all of the ink. Well, that and she wanted to see more of his hard body.

But she didn’t. She wasn’t sure what to do. Just grab a handful of his ass? Give him a good squeeze. Suggest they get on with it?

There was living up to her reputation and then there was looking stupid.

Looking stupid wasn’t the goal. So ass grabbing was out. For now.

She wouldn’t mind wrapping her hands around his shoulders though. Those nice, thick, muscular shoulders that glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. Pull herself into his back. Feel his heat and strength against her.

There were boys like Peter. And then there were men like Grant. And she’d never really had a man like Grant. Not that she’d had a lot of men, period.

Another small black tattoo was on the outer side of Grant’s other bicep. A short, skinny black line and that seemed like a good place to officially start. She stroked the back of her knuckles down the slender mark. Grant jumped and spun, catching her arms in his grasp and lifted her off the ground. His face was over hers, his chest against hers and his hard eyes searched. Lips were tight. Square jaw line tense.

She only needed to raise her chin and their lips would meet, but she didn’t. His eyes were fierce as he looked at her. His shoulders tight. Breath hard and labored.

Perhaps she should be scared, but all she could do was stare and feel the power of him running through her body. She’d never been handled like this. Just lifted off the ground to the point her toes were not even touching. And he wasn’t even having to work at it. Her breath was trapped. Heart pounded, a knot lodged in the base of her throat. So much for not looking stupid, but she stuck with the plan. Just roll with the punches. She was good at that.

With a thick swallow, she stroked over his shoulders and down his arm, looking at his tattoo. “An ‘I’? Or Roman numeral?”

His brows relaxed, the tension fell from his face, the grip on her arms eased and her feet landed back on the ground. “An ‘I’. For Iverson. I got it with my brothers one night. That one and the one on my other arm.”

His hands fell away from her and he turned his back to her, digging in the bed of his truck once again. His soul coating heat was gone.

“Just something stupid one night.”

She smiled, wanting to touch him again, but didn’t. “Always wanted one, but too afraid it’d hurt.”

“I wouldn’t know. I woke up and they were there.”

She laughed. “Drinking night with the boys.”

He turned with a roll of caution tape in his hands. “Last one I had. Let’s get this started so I can set up camp and be done before dark.”

With that, she started toward what was considered the front yard. After no more than five steps, he passed her with a groan. She started to pick up her pace to walk beside him until she caught sight of his ass and decided to hang back.

There was nice man ass. And then there was nice man ass in motion. Like two juicy peaches dancing in there. Considering the circumstances, maybe more like two plump firm apples she couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into and taste the sweet juices.

“How many big hardwoods are out here? Do you know?”

She jerked her eyes up, not that his shoulders and back were any less lust-worthy, but less embarrassing if he turned around.

This was such a different pace. In the past, she had been in control. The boys she’d ‘played’ with hadn’t been that interesting. She’d teased because that’s what they expected out of her, but Grant was different. He was exciting. She wanted him to put her against that tree right there because she really wanted it, not just for the sake of finding a little fun. She licked her lips. “A few. A couple Oaks. There was a maple at one point and I remember a birch. Then little ones like dogwoods. I’m sure more have grown in that might be worth keeping.”

He nodded and kept going. “Sounds good. I think I’ll mark what’s standing straight and then after the pines are cleared, see which to keep of the rest.”

She continued following him. “Might can move the ones you don’t want in the fall. There’s nothing in the back but pine trees that I remember.”

“Maybe so.”

“Except the dogwoods. Always heard those were a bitch to replant.” Good Lord, she was mumbling on about
trees.
Some good Rebecca Gabel she was. This town would laugh their cholesterol soaked, deep fried asses off if they knew the truth.

She sighed. All she wanted was a kiss. Just one kiss. Well, all right,
fine
, she had to start admitting what she really wanted if she was going to take it. She wanted one kiss to start with. After that, she was certain she’d want another. And another. And then more. With a swing in his ass like that one, he was surely good at more.

The kind who could kiss and make her all dizzy. Make her forget everything for a few moments.

And those hands. Big, strong hands. She glanced at his feet and mashed her lips together to keep from giggling like a dorky school girl.

'Course, this brought her back to her problem. How to take it without looking stupid.
Rebecca Gabel
was known as cool, confident, flirty…and by a few others, trashy. But that was neither here or there. She was never known as stupid.

She was just so out of practice with this kind of flirting. Not that she’d ever flirted with intentions to actually follow through, but nobody knew that, so it wasn’t like that was any real factor in here.

He walked ahead of her, which was a bit weird seeing as he didn’t know where to go and she did, but she let him have at it. Unless there was a giant size of a man with rippling muscles in front of you, it wasn’t overly hard to miss the big hardwood trees peeking around skinny Pines.

She just didn’t get it. It was obvious he wanted her. She’d caught him staring too often to not believe it. She wanted him. She just needed something to get the ball rolling.

Just one kiss. The silence stretched. A bird chirped. Dried leaves crunched under their feet. It was a quarter past awkward and ten minutes from humiliating if she didn’t say something.

“I haven’t been out here in a few years, so I assume they’re still here.”
Trees.
More stupid tree talk. Should she just grab his shoulders and take a kiss or subtly move in and start slow? Hold his hands. Touch his arm with flirty lashes and stuff.

Then he’d just take it from there, right?
Right?
He looked like the kind of man who wouldn’t settle for teasing, but one you barely poked at and wouldn’t stop unless you actually asked. Sweep her off her feet. Hold her tight in those big strong arms.

Hmm. Now there was an idea.

He stepped around an Oak and she followed, staring at the old beautiful tree. “Let’s mark it.”

She took the tape from his hands, an idea forming. “Hold this end.”

She walked around the tree, wrapping the bright yellow tape around the trunk until she was nearly all the way around. Just before reaching him, she purposely stubbed her toe in the ground, “tripped” and found herself wrapped up in his arms and right where she wanted to be.

His hands were flat on her back. Her face against his shoulders and her lips oh, so close. Moments passed. The heat on his body was warmer than the summer afternoon. She angled her chin up.

And then he pushed her off and stood her up straight, pulling his hands off her just as fast. “Watch your step.”

“Uh, okay.” She rubbed a chill off her arms. “Little clumsy.”

“You okay?”

Her pride sure as hell wasn’t, not that she’d let him know that. “Sure.”

“Let’s get this one tied off so we can get on the next one.”

She held the tape out and stood back as he worked. He bit the tape, ripped it off the roll and tossed the rest to the ground. The yellow ribbon wound around his fingers, bending at the will of his coaxing fingers until a simple knot was tied. He bent, picked up the rest of the roll with a flip of his fingertips and started walking again.

She stood back, watching, trying to figure out something.

What.

The.

Hell.

There’d been looks. There’d been pauses. There’d been catching of his breath when she got close. This desire was not one sided. He felt it too. She’d known it the moment she’d backed her bike up from the store. It was hard to miss a man standing in the middle of the parking lot with his mouth hanging open as he stared at her.

Several feet ahead now, he stopped and turned around. “You coming?”

Oh, yes. Yes she was. Now or never, damn it. She only had a week to get this out of her system and she was wasting time with silly games.

She threw her shoulders back and stepped into the role of the woman everyone claimed her to be—the one she wanted to be. No more playing. She marched across the ground, feet sure, heart pounding, palms sweaty, but no looking back.

His eyes widened as she closed in. He started to turn.

She held up her hand. “Don’t move.”

He stopped just as she reached him and she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself in for a kiss. And he gave as well as she took. He growled, the vibrations rumbled up his throat and into her. His hands gripped her and held her firm, his fingers pinching, but not hard enough for pain.

The past few “good girl” years melted off her with each stroke of her tongue on his, each rock of her pelvis against his hardening cock. It was ages, decades it nearly felt like being rinsed away and releasing her from a self-proclaimed cage.

His arms tightened round hers and she tilted her head, wanting to be closer, wanting to completely forget how hard it had been to be perfect for soon long in Florida. If being wrapped in and around this warm wall of rock was any indication, she would certainly forget for a bit and have loads of memories to take home.

Very, very good memories. Like how being pressed to his rippled, chiseled chest and abs caused her thighs to tingle and tighten. His rock hard chest was unforgiving against her sensitive nipples. His hips rocked against her pelvis. He didn’t merely kiss her with his mouth, he kissed her with his body. Where their skin touched, delicious tingling sensations chilled and heated her all at once.

His shoulders softened and he lifted his head, his arms unwound from her. “We can’t.”

“We could.” She kept her arms around his neck.

“We shouldn’t.”

“Still doesn’t mean we can’t.”

He sighed, stroking his fingers through her hair. “Are you always this forward?”

“I’m not much for hiding what I want.” At least that was the goal for the week.

“Direct.”

“That’s what they say about me.”

“Who’s they?”

She shrugged and blinked, having forgot for a moment that this guy was new to town, that he didn’t have a clue about the “sort of woman” everyone thought she was. “Everyone, but they’re right. Why waste time beating around the bush when I can just get right to it?”

“Efficient.”

She grinned. “Yes. Efficient. Life is short. It shouldn’t be wasted.”

“Spoken like someone who’s lost somebody.”

“Nope.” Not some
body
. Just a few moments in time she should have taken. Hindsight, her ass. She could take now what she should have done then. She lifted higher and nipped at his lower lip.