The Keeping(50)

It would be a great night for a run, but turning into a wolf in the middle of Main Street—even if no one seemed to be about—was definitely courting trouble. Instead he climbed into his truck and drove home, mulling over the events of the night.





Chapter 14





Mel was having trouble sleeping. She lay on her back, enumerating all of the positives around her that should be contributing to a blissful state of slumber. The bed was relatively comfortable, the temperature correct and there was no noise outside to bother her. She wasn’t thirsty, nor did she need to go to the bathroom. Even her feet were warm, due to the presence of her favourite fuzzy socks encasing her lower extremities.

So, if everything was perfect, then why did her mind refuse to turn off? She flopped over for what seemed like the twentieth time and firmly closed her eyes only to pop them open again as thoughts of Ryne filled her head yet again. She wasn’t sure exactly when her mind had made the switch from referring to him as ‘Taylor’ to calling him by his first name, but they seemed to be on a more personal level now, and he was no longer just an anonymous, but annoying research project.

Correction. He was still annoying, but she was learning to deal with it. The main problem—beyond getting him to agree to an interview—was figuring out what to do about the physical attraction that threatened to arise between them. As she’d said before, she didn’t ‘poach’ men from other women and Lucy was involved with Ryne in some way.

Ryne inexplicably found her attractive. The bulge pressed against her stomach had been undeniable and the heat of his kisses hadn’t been faked. She knew she wasn’t ugly, but neither was she drop dead gorgeous. Her brown eyes and hair that was some shade between blonde and brown were just ordinary. Similarly, her features were okay; an average sized nose with the faintest smattering of freckles, a wide mouth with a friendly smile. Again, just ordinary. The only slightly interesting thing about her might be her breasts, which she always thought were disproportionate, but not in a fake ‘I’ve-had-augmentation’ kind of way. Nope. In her opinion, there was nothing about her that should attract someone as hot and sexy as Ryne.

Perhaps the man just went after any female that didn’t make him gag. It was a possibility. Some men did seem to have the need to sow more than their share of wild oats. Mel often suspected her father was that way, but never mentioned the fact to her mother. Her father was the only taboo topic between them and even to this day, Mel had only the sketchiest information about him. Not that it mattered; it was just that sometimes she was curious. With a slight shake of her head, she dismissed her father and returned to the more interesting topic of Ryne Taylor.

Without a doubt, the man was attractive and just the idea of having sex with him had warmth pooling between her legs, but it wasn’t in the cards. Maybe after the interview—if he did go along with the idea—it would be a possibility. However, there was Lucy to consider. Mel liked the woman even though they’d only talked twice. The waitress wasn’t exactly refined, but there was something likeable about her. Lucy was open and friendly. She didn’t try to put on airs; she was who she was. In fact, Lucy was almost too nice for someone like Ryne who seemed more of a ‘love ’em and leave ’em’ type.

Mel tried to picture Ryne in a long term relationship, with a wife at his side and little kiddies playing at his feet. The image quavered in and out of focus in her mind. She frowned. Somehow she was putting herself in the wife position. No. That wouldn’t do. Erasing the very idea, she rolled on her stomach and buried her head under the pillow, forcibly pushing Ryne out of her head. She began humming a popular tune, but grunted in disgust when she realized it was a mushy love song and she was getting all hot and bothered by it.

Throwing back the covers, Mel got up and stomped into the kitchen. Taking a glass from the cupboard she got a drink of cold water and then stood in front of the window, pressing her warm cheek to the cool smooth pane. The night here was much blacker than it was in Chicago. With no street lights or neon signs to hold back the night, it shrouded the world in complete inky darkness. It was calming, but also a bit frightening to think that, except for the Kennedys, there was no one around for miles. And without a phone, she had no way of summoning help, unless she ran along the path through the little woodlot in the dead of night...

A shiver passed over her as she realized how truly alone she was. Just herself, the darkness, and whatever animal life existed in the forest behind the cabin. She set the glass down on the counter and walked to her bedroom, intent on climbing back into bed and hiding under the covers, but for some reason, found herself peeking out the bedroom curtains instead.