My Fate for Yours Page 7

  A split-second thought twists through my brain of, how many girls has he said this to before? I try to erase the thought but can’t, it’s already entwined too far.

  Eamon gives me a wink before jumping into his new Jeep like he’s been driving it for years.

  I stand still for a moment, but shake off the uncertainty and snatch his shirt from the ground. “I think it’s you who should be without a shirt.” I pull it over my head and knot up the bottom to keep my stomach bare.

  Eamon smiles wide again. “Get in, Rach. Let’s go play.”

  “Pull over,” I say, swatting at Eamon’s arm.

  “What? Why?” he asks, but swerves to the right side of the road anyway.

  “Up there.” I point. A little ways up is a small pickup truck on the shoulder of the small bridge. A petite woman and a little girl are leaning over the edge pointing at something. “We should see if they need help.”

  Eamon puts the Jeep in park and jumps out while I’m still trying to put my sandals back on.

  “Y’all alright?” he yells. The woman looks up and her puckered face softens, as if the sight of Eamon rushing toward her washes relief over her.

  “My husband always said I was good for nothin’, looks like he was right,” she says.

  “My bed!” her daughter, who can’t be older than seven, yells.

  “Couldn’t even tie our things down right,” the woman says. She shakes her head back and forth and looks ashamed. Her pickup truck hardly looks roadworthy--there are cracks in the glass of the windshield, and rust around every dent. The bed of the truck is loaded with plastic tubs full of toys and stuffed animals, garbage bags overflowing with clothes and a few small pieces of furniture haphazardly tied to the sides. This woman packed in a hurry. My gut tightens. She was getting out fast.

  “That’s your bed down there?” Eamon asks the girl. She nods and I lean over the edge where he’s pointing. There’s an old twin size mattress at the bottom of the gully. “No problem, we’ll just go get it back then. Here, hold this.” Eamon empties his pockets and shoves his car keys and wallet into my hands before I can protest.

  “Eamon! Don’t even think about it. It’s at least twenty feet down. You’re going to cut yourself to shreds.”

  “Come on, Rach, you’ve seen me jump from much, much higher,” he says with a quick smile.

  “Onto nothing but rocks?” I step toward him, but my hands are full of his crap and what would I really do anyway? He’s determined, and nothing ever stands in the way of that boy if it means helping someone out, or getting a good rush.

  “There’s a little water down there, may help soften the fall,” he jokes. There is a thin stream of water that wouldn’t cushion the fall of a frog. “Besides, maybe I’ll get lucky and land on the mattress.”

  “Eamon--” I start.

  “Don’t be so dramatic, Rach, it’s not like this little drop will kill me.” He winks, leans in and kisses my cheek quickly.

  “Sir, you don’t have to--” the woman starts to say. But it’s too late; Eamon has already climbed onto the guardrail. An odd calm passes over his face in the split second before he jumps over the edge. I practically slam against the railing to watch. He tucks his legs up and rolls a few times and dammit at the end, he lands on top of that mattress, proving once again to himself that nothing bad will ever come of him accepting a dare or taking a challenge.

  My heart thankfully begins to slow as he stands up to give me a brief wave.

  Eamon’s fearless nature and dumb luck are what make him continue to act so recklessly. He’ll never stop, because he never gets seriously hurt. And even when he does get banged up, he wears his injuries with pride, rather than the stupidity.

  He hoists the mattress up above his head and climbs up the embankment as far as he can without falling into the thick line of briar bushes and then gives the mattress a good shove. Somehow, it makes it back onto the bridge and I swear I catch the woman wiping a tear from her eye. I can’t be mad at Eamon for risking his own safety when this woman is so clearly grateful to him.

  I jog to where the mattress is and carry it back to her truck, stopping to take some rope out of the back of Eamon’s Jeep to tie it down good and right. He comes up behind me and give the knots an extra tug. “Good girl,” he says. His breath scorches my neck.

  “Well, there you go. Should stay put for the rest of your trip. Where y’all headed?” Eamon asks.

  The woman is definitely blinking back tears, glancing from the still shirtless Eamon to the back of her truck and says, “We can’t thank you enough. We’re not even so sure where we’re going, but Jessa will have a familiar place to lay her head when we get there and I am so grateful for that.”

  She reaches into her tiny cross-body purse and digs around. “I can’t offer you much, but--” The woman tries to hand Eamon a crumpled five-dollar bill.

  “Absolutely not, ma’am, I was happy to do it.” Eamon steps back. “I bet you need to get on the road to make it before supper time, though.”

  “Thank you. I’ll never forget your kindness. I’m Carrie, by the way,” she says, extending her hand.

  “Eamon. And this is Rachel,” Eamon says. He holds out his own hand and it’s then that I see the scrape down the length of his arm, ugly and raw and bleeding profusely.

  I stifle the gasp that is about to come out. I don’t want the little girl to see it and panic. Eamon surely isn’t worried about it. Typical.

  “Y’all have a safe trip. I hope things on the other end

  “Be careful!” I yell, as Carrie buckles little Jessa into the bench seat of the truck. As soon as they are on their way, I turn to Eamon and swat at his good arm. “You are crazy!”

  “And you’re beautiful,” he says with a wink. “What was I going to do? She needed mattress back. I didn’t mind going after it,” he says. “No harm done.”

  Two beats of silence pass between us, fueling further this intense kind of need that’s becoming near constant around him. I break out of it and give him a light shove.

  “Look at your arm! Get in the Jeep. I have the first aid kit.”

  “I was waiting for the chance to play doctor with you,” Eamon says as settles into the passenger seat. I pull out the massive first aid kit, sort of wishing it would have at least taken a day before I had to break this thing out. I try not to stare at Eamon’s toned chest as I hold his hand, pulling his arm away from his body and pouring half my container of peroxide over the cut. The edges won’t come together as I blot around the wound trying to dry it off. “I think this needs a couple of stitches, Eamon.”

  “Get after it doc,” he says. He leans forward and loosens the knot of my shirt. “And maybe if I’m a good patient, I’ll get a treat at the end.”

  “Very funny. Why didn’t you just walk down the edge of levee?”

  “Did you see it? It’s completely covered with briar bushes. I would’ve cut myself to shit!” he laughs.

  “Oh, as opposed to this?” I pour some rubbing alcohol into a small cup and put my thread in to soak. “Saw you had some Daniels in the back. You want a drink before I start?”

  “Nah, I’m good,” Eamon says.

  “Alright, tough guy.” I laugh. I flick on a lighter and burn the tip of my needle, thread it and then push the needle through the edge of the cut closest to me. Eamon doesn’t even wince.

  When I’ve knotted the last bit and snipped off the end with the small scissors from the kit, Eamon wastes no time.

  “Now, for my prize,” he says. He pulls me onto his lap and kisses me. His chest is warm from the baking sun and I’d love to sink into him--into us, but everyone is waiting for him and me on the other end. If we don’t show up soon, people will start to talk. And I know that’s the last thing that Eamon wants, which would mean all of the new kissing might go away.

  “We should stop. They’re going to wonder where we are--” his mouth covers mine again, cutting of my words, and my sanity. He nips at my neck and I grab onto his
arm and let out a moan that is so uncharacteristically me, and is quickly covered by Eamon’s yelp.

  “What’s wrong?” I pull back.

  “My arm!” he says. I look down, and my hand is covering his wound, my fingers digging into the tender flesh on each side. I yank my hand back quickly, as if off of a bed of hot coals.

  “Christ! I’m so sorry!”

  Eamon chuckles. “It’s fine, doll. But you’re right, we should get out of here. You’re hot enough, and this sun is killer. The tan on his shoulders is deepening, so I offer him his shirt back, in exchange for mine. He scoops me up in his arms and sets me down into the passenger seat, then makes his way around to the driver’s seat. We peal out, leaving gravel spraying behind us.

  It’s only a few miles to go to the beach, so I clean up the mess left from suturing Eamon’s arm and re-organize the first aid kit, which I’m sure will get more use before the weekend is over.

  For the rest of our drive I breathe in the hot, damp air and close my eyes at the feel of my hair catching in the wind. Three times I reach over to rest my hand on Eamon’s leg, or to take his hand in mine, but even though we nearly had each other in the grass earlier, it still feels too personal.

  At the end of the long driveway, Eamon slows and clears his throat a few times.

  “What?”

  “It’s that...” He coughs again. “People knowing. About...um...this...” he gestures between us. “It’ just--”

  “Agreed,” I cut him off before he says something stupid that might unintentionally make me feel bad.

  “But,” he lets the Jeep coast to a stop as he leans toward me. “But...I’m thinking we’ll need to find some time.”

  His hand rests on my leg, and I nearly lean in to kiss him, but we both see movement through the trees at the same time and jerk away.

  “Yes.” I sit back in my seat, not remembering leaning toward him so far. “We’ll need to find some time.”

  13

  Eamon

  Finding time to sneak away with Rachel has been the biggest joke of the day. I should have taken her in the grass next to my Jeep. Leslie drug Rachel into town. Traive dragged me and Tobin down the beach to meet some friends of his who are having some random beach party tomorrow night, and then we tried to rig some kind of trampoline with my old parachute, but the trees aren’t high enough, and after I fell twice knocking the wind out of me, Tobin thought we should give it up.

  Rachel’s been on the edges of everything I’ve done, but Tobin doesn’t miss anything and after the way he started to question me, I need to be extra careful about watching her or being around her.

  Tobin and Traive are trying to make some kind of outdoor shelter or cover or something with my old chute as the sun’s going down, but I’m sort of done messing with the damn thing. And my side hurts from slipping down off that last tree.

  “I packed too much stuff,” Rachel says as she steps behind me. “Got a sec to help me carry it up?”

  I give the quickest glance around at everyone else, and they all seem kind of busy. Nice job, doll. “Sure.”

  I jog past her into the small two-story house and then wait for her to lead the way. We both glance out the window, but Leslie’s parked in a lawn chair with a beer and the other two are yelling at each other over knots and ropes. Timing is perfect.

  She flashes me a smile and slides her shirt over her head before heading for the stairs. Game on.

  I’m dying for her. To feel her. All of her. It’s been building all day to the point where I’m about to get off just thinking about it, watching her hips sway as she walks up the steep stairs giving me a perfect view of her tiny panties under her skirt.

  The second she shuts the door to the small room, she turns and grabs me, pulling us close, pressing her lips to mine and stumbling until we fall on the bed.

  “I want you…need you…” she murmurs between kisses, and I press myself, rock hard between her legs, but we’re finally alone so I grab a condom and shove off my shorts before I grab the button of her skirt.

  “No time.” She pulls the bottom of her skirt up, shoving it around her waist and exposing the tiniest pair of black panties, which I want to rip from her body. I slide on the condom as she starts to shimmy out of the panties, but with every move she makes, I go a little more insane with need for her.

  I clutch her panties and pull them down, but the faster I pull the more they twist and the tighter they get. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

  She laughs her perfect laugh. “Tear the damn things off me, E.”

  I keep pulling and sliding, determined not to rip her underwear. “You make me feel like a freshman kid about to get his first lay.”

  I wait for her to say something, but she grabs my waist and pulls me on top of her, positioning herself just right. She moans as I slide in, and damn I thought I’d take my time, but I can’t. Luckily, she can’t either because she’s moving just as hard and fast against me as I am into her.

  Her moans have turned into these sexy as hell whimpers, and I want to make her scream, but we’re also one windowpane away from everyone hearing. “Shhh.”

  Her teeth come down hard on my shoulder, muffling the sound of her and turning me on even more. We’re pushing so hard into each other that I feel her shudder as her teeth tighten further and the most incredible sound of release is buried in my shoulder. I follow about a second later and the sensation of finally having her, feeling her, crashes through me.

  I hover over her, breathing hard, as she relaxes onto the pillow. “I feel like such an amateur for the two minutes that took, but I needed you.”

  She smiles before her eyes open. This amazing smile of satisfaction and then her finger touches my shoulder where her teeth just were. “You have naughty marks there.”

  I hover closer, lying some of my weight back on her. “Let’s see where else we can put them, eh?”

  The feel of her laughing underneath me. My skin against hers is a whole new kind of rush, and one I could easily get addicted to.

  I’m spun into the first time we thought we were going to go all the way.

  “How can you not want your shirt off?” I whined. I was naked aside from the condom we’d struggled with.

  Rachel scooted up to sitting in the loft of the old barn in her tank and panties. “I don’t know. This seemed like a good idea, but now...”

  My body was primed and ready and we both knew this was all about just getting the first time over with. Just so we could at least seem like we knew what we were doing when the time came for real. “What?”

  I leaned over, resting my hand on her waist. Even then I knew Rachel was pretty, but she was too familiar for me to really see her. It’s why, at the time, I felt like losing her shirt shouldn’t be that big a deal. And I thought it would sort of perfect the experience.

  Rachel blinked a few times and my primed, ready, condom-covered self started to deflate.

  “I’m so sorry...” She sniffed a few times. “I just want my first time to be with someone I love, even if it’s not perfect. Even if I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  I kissed her cheek only half understanding because we’d talked about all of this. “I love you, Rach.”

  She pulled her bare legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I know you love me. But not in the right way. Not for this.”

  There was nothing to say so I pulled her in a for a hug and decided that Rachel and I weren’t crossing lines anymore. It was too weird.

  “You done hauling bags bellboy?” Tobin yells up the stairs snapping me into the present. “We need your help!”

  “Oh…” I sit up. Right.

  “You go. I’m going to lie here and recover for a minute, but I think I’d like to find some more time to be with you. You think you can make that happen?”

  “Of course I can.” I run my hand down her thigh from her hipbone to behind her knee and watch her skin break out in goose bumps. I try not to take in how incredibly naked she is und
er her skirt, or I won’t care who sees or walks in on us because we’d need a repeat. “Maybe next time we can spend a little more time.”

  She cocks a brow. “Yeah. Maybe.”

  14

  Rachel

  Nelson showed up with Kelly, who had caught a ride out with him. As glad as I am to see everyone, there’s a selfish part of me thinking I only get one weekend, and I don’t want to share it with anyone.

  When Nelson mentioned something involving guns and the woods and fire, the guys were naturally gone within minutes. Kelly and Leslie are chatting about college and doing nails, and I’m pretending to study my nursing text.

  The place is decorated in all this white wicker furniture that was probably gorgeous and modern when it was purchased in the eighties, but now the greyness of it just makes me a little sad. Like I want to tear out everything inside this place and start over.

  I bite my lip as I stare into the darkness wondering where the guys are and what they’re doing and hoping no one needs bandaging up.

  “Were you there when Nelson kissed me last weekend?” Kelly shudders. “As if that would ever happen.”

  Leslie snorts. “I heard about it. Traive and I stepped away from the bonfire for a bit...”

  “Of course you did,” I add, just wanting something to distract my brain. “And what’s so bad about Nelson? He’s a nice guy.”

  Kelly rolls her eyes. “I swear he’s had this sort of weird, puppy dog crush on me since I can remember.”

  Nelson isn’t Kelly’s type. Actually, Kelly would take Tobin or Eamon in a heartbeat, and she makes that well known--always flirty and touchy. Another pang of jealousy seizes me for a minute.

  “How’s Delia?” I ask her. They were supposed to graduate together, but Delia moved.

  Kelly shrugs. “Been awhile since we chatted. I guess she’s busy in the big city.”

  There’s a bit of hurt in her voice but also resignation. Me and her and everyone else knew Delia wasn’t sticking around Crawford.

  “Wish Tobin was dating again.” Kelly pulls a tanned leg toward her chest and rests her chin on her knee. “Or that Eamon did more than one-night stands.”