Chapter Seventeen

On the cab ride back to the B&B, Torrie snuggled close to Rich and laid her head on his chest, inhaling his spicy aftershave. A million thoughts swirled through her head, each colliding with the other:

He’s out of your league and he’ll be gone before summer even ends, a little voice in her head warned her.

But why couldn’t she have a short fling, no strings attached? she countered. Nobody was going to get hurt when it was over. They were adults, just two people, enjoying each other’s company for a few weeks. And enjoying each other’s bodies.

But can you handle it? the contrary first voice asked.

Minutes later, as they climbed the steps to their room, Torrie thought the fairy tale evening had ended, but she was even more astounded when they entered their bedroom. The lights had been turned off and a dozen candles in crystal globes shed shimmering light around the room, bouncing off the walls and mirrors. Two dozen white roses in two crystal vases gave off a sweet intoxicating smell she had come to recognize and love.

“What on earth, Richard Lee Redman, have you done?” She turned to face him and felt the familiar sizzle jump between them. Before she could decide the many reasons why this was all wrong, she threw caution to the wind, cupped his face in her hands, pulled it to hers, and kissed him. His mouth responded hungrily and shivers of desire spiraled through her. His arms looped around her waist and he drew her up off her feet while they kissed and kissed. Finally, he set her down and pulled away ever so lightly, then yanked her close so she could feel his arousal.

“Yes or no, Torrie,” he groaned against her lips in a tortuous tone. “You’re killing me here. Is it a warm bed or a cold shower for me tonight?”

She knew she surprised him when she stepped back and laughed a buoyant, provocative laugh, toeing off her high heels and sending them sailing across the room. She let her eyes say it all. “What are you waiting for?” she whispered and crooked a finger at him.

Breathing heavy, his eyes widened.

“First one naked calls the shots and chooses who gets top or bottom,” she said with a devilish grin.

“You’re on. And I’ll go easy on you,” he sputtered. “Jewelry doesn’t count.”

Her heart fluttering wildly in her chest, Torrie yanked at her dress, pulling it over her head. “You’re toast, cowboy,” she muttered through the fabric. “Try to remember who had more experience in sports and could beat the pants off any competitor.”

“Really? Bring it on, sweetheart.” His low ripple of laughter filled the room. His tie, shoes, and belt hit the floor together. He had always been skilled at multi-tasking.

****

The morning arrived too soon for Torrie as she awakened, her head lying on Rich’s chest. The sun was already sending a slanting golden band through the end of the curtain to fall across the foot of their bed. They had made love several times through the night until they both had fallen asleep in each other’s arms. Quietly, Torrie slipped out of bed and into her robe and rounded the bed, just as she heard him say softly, “Sneaking out on me?”

“We have to get started for home,” she whispered coming to stand beside him. A hand snaked out and grabbed her, pulling her on top of him and rolling her onto his side, pinning her in place. “Why are we whispering?”

Laughing, she stammered, “Rich, stop it. We have to get dressed.” She raised herself on an elbow and asked, “So? How are we going to handle this?”

“This? I think we’re handling this really well at the moment. Don’t you think so?” If he heard nervousness in her voice, he chose to ignore it. Instead, he pulled her gently back down, kissing her forehead at her hairline. He ran his other hand over her hair and down the side of her shoulder.

She nudged him in the ribs. “You know what I mean. When we get back to Hickory Valley.”

“Your hair is beautiful,” he said, his hand toying with a strand. “Silky and soft. Like satin. Flaxen-colored satin.”

“Flaxen?” She snorted. “Who taught you the color chart?” She tapped him on the chest. “Concentrate, Richard Lee Junior. We were talking about what happens when we go back to Hickory Valley.” She rolled on her stomach and looked him in the eyes.

“If you think this is just a fling or one impulsive day of sexual dallying, Torrie Jane Larson, you’re wrong. You’re sorely mistaken.” His eyes flashed.

Realizing he was on the verge of becoming angry, she reined herself in. “I just would like to keep our little tryst out of the town’s gossip pipeline. Understand?”

“Little tryst? Is that what you want to call this?”

Torrie squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, brother. This was not going as she had expected. She tried a different, straight forward approach instead. “Okay, I don’t want the kids, my parents or brothers and sister to know. Not yet.”

“Elsa already suspects there’s more than camaraderie,” he pointed out.

“Rich, we need to figure out where we’re going with our relationship without everyone jumping in to give advice.”

“Fine,” he conceded. “But I’m not going to walk on eggshells or avoid you like you’ve got the mother of all diseases.” He rolled on top of her and kissed her—and his phone started ringing.

****

This time Rich was really aggravated. Why couldn’t he catch a lousy break? What was with the darn phone interrupting at the most inopportune times?

Cursing, he rolled over, sat up, snatched the phone from the nightstand, and checked the number. He swiped the answer screen. “This better be important, Marlene.” He frowned, watching Torrie slip off the bed and tiptoe into the bathroom. So much for his quick morning romp before a long drive back.

He had called Marlene last night before they left for the Still Waters Lounge to see if she could find someone who had the inside track with Dr. Winters.

“What are you doing working so early in the morning?” he asked.

“I could ask you what you’re still doing in Elmira,” she shot back with an amused tone to her voice. “Car break down again?”

“Hah, I’m in Montour Falls.”

“Hah to you, I’m not at the office.”

“If we’re going to waste each other’s time with ‘who’s on first,’ I’d rather you give me the information you’ve found out and hang up.”

“So I did interrupt something.”

“Spit it out, Marlene!”

“Well, Joe says—”

“Whoa, are you at Joe Bradley’s house? At six in the morning?”

His eyes grew large in lust and awe when Torrie pranced out of the bathroom in a sexy black bra and panties. Hers widened as well when she figured out the drift of their conversation and she realized Marlene’s early morning whereabouts. She gave a two-thumbs-up gesture, then she bent and started picking up loose clothing from the floor, tossing his on a nearby chair, and throwing him a pair of silk boxer shorts. He caught them one-handed and frowned at her, obviously disappointed by the turn of morning events. She grinned impishly at him, collected a pair of jeans and shirt from her suitcase, and sashayed back to the bathroom.

“It’s is none of your business, Rich Redman,” Marlene’s clipped voice was cool and disapproving.

“Touché,” he replied.

Silence descended, and Rich knew she was regrouping her thoughts.

Finally she spoke. “Okay. Truce. Here’s the scoop. The two people who were close to Ivan’s mom and dad were Joe Bradley’s father and Lucille Smith’s late husband. Joe told me they once collectively owned a hunting cabin up in New York by the Finger Lakes. Here are my thoughts. You approach Dr. Winters with one of the women, either Joe’s mom or Lucille Smith, and you might have a better chance of shaking him down for information.”

“You’re a gem, Marlene.” Rich bent and picked his belt off the floor. “Tell Joe I said hello.”

“Tell Torrie I said hey, too.”

“I will when I see her later this morning for breakfast.”

“The hole you’re digging is getting deeper by the minute,” Marlene warned. “Have a safe trip back to Hickory Valley.”