Jennifer Greene - Sunburst

Silently, she edged out from under his arm and got out of bed. Padding to the bathroom, she ran a comb through her hair and brushed her teeth, then drew on panties and a pair of crisp white jeans. Her heart was doing triple time as she walked back to the bed and sat down gingerly next to Kyle’s hip. She took a breath before running her fingertips up his chest. He didn’t stir. But his blue eyes opened promptly enough when her bare breasts brushed his chest and her lips found the hollow between his bristly chin and his neck.

“Good morning,” she murmured. “It’s seven o’clock, Kyle. Thursday. We have a date with a Cessna at ten, and neither of us has packed item one.”

He said nothing, just stared at her with sleep-laden eyes. There was no smile to match her own, just an effort to waken, to reach out from the disorientation of sleep. She pressed a kiss in the hollow of his throat again and then stood up, stretching with all the lazy sensuality of an accomplished stripper. Well…amateur stripper.

The instant flare of turquoise in his eyes said she wasn’t doing too badly. Before he really woke, before he remembered…anything, she went on talking as she opened and closed drawers. “I thought I’d just pack a few clothes in duffel bags. We won’t need much. I have to take the cat to Martha’s. Don’t say anything; I’m not leaving Nuisance out if it rains. I know you’ve got a tent somewhere; I aired out the sleeping bags yesterday morning. I never thought to go to the bank. Did you get money?”

She turned, still smiling. He was no longer impressed with her bare breasts gleaming in golden sunlight, with her hair like fire brushing against her shoulders, with the snug jeans she had chosen for exactly what they did for her thighs and bottom. Betrayal was in his eyes, a chill so cold, an accusation, a silence… She turned back to the drawers, neatly folding the few things she needed on top of the dresser. Her heart had plummeted to the lower depths…

“Are we going to be able to get fishing equipment into the plane? I thought I’d put together a box of staples. Drinks and peanut butter…the kind of stuff we’d need to eat outside. Paper plates. Where we’re going doesn’t exactly sound like restaurant country. Did you hear the weather report yesterday? It’s supposed to be hot-”

“Erica…”

She lifted her chin stubbornly, as she turned one more time from putting the last of her clothes in the small bag. She lifted it. “Would you believe this is all I need? I figured a change of jeans and a couple of tops.” Her voice was faltering in spite of herself. “I’ll wear tennis shoes and take along a pair of sandals. I’ll put your stuff together as soon as I’ve made us both some breakfast…”

“What the hell are you playing at?” He had lurched up to a sitting position in bed, his bare chest soaking in the morning sun, his black hair tousled and boyish. But there was nothing boyish about his face, his eyes. His look was grim, and his shoulders were tense, and his blue eyes pierced hers, trying to make sense of her magpie chatter. “You seem to be under the impression we’re going somewhere together this morning,” he interrupted harshly.

Her stomach promptly made three somersaults. She turned away quickly, absently running a hand through her hair. “I think that’s really all I have to remember, Kyle. There shouldn’t be any trouble getting it all together in a couple of hours. I’ll make bacon and eggs-”

“Erica-”

She beamed a radiant smile at him from the doorway. “Obviously, though, I’ll have to get on the stick if we’re going to be ready on time-”

“You are not going anywhere.”

“We are , dammit!”

Her furious tone seemed to come out of nowhere, startling Kyle. That cold-blooded stare of his seemed to die as he became aware of exactly what her cheerfulness cost her. No matter what he believed she had done, she knew he was reacting to her, to Erica, to years of shielding his lady from trouble she couldn’t handle. Mixed emotions seemed to run through his head, and then he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at her. “All right, we are,” he agreed grimly. “God knows we’re not going to solve anything at this particular moment. Here. Now.” Almost reluctantly, a faint hint of a smile touched the corners of his mouth. “But, no, Erica, you’re not going anywhere.”

“I-”

“Like that.”

It took a moment for her to understand. She glanced down to see the white jeans that were perfectly appropriate. Somehow that was all there was. Her bare breasts were as tense as the rest of her body, her small, dark nipples pointing right at him. But then, her breasts and Kyle’s hands had always had this magnetic relationship all their own… You’re thinking as clearly as a mentally deranged person, she informed herself crisply. But she had won; she understood that. They were going. Somehow she had gained ground, even if it was only an inch of the mile she needed to go.

More than once during those hectic two hours of packing and organizing Kyle started to say something. She didn’t give him a chance. She played roadrunner in tennis shoes, chattering as if nothing could possibly be wrong, worrying aloud about every detail. She didn’t want him to bring up Morgan, not until she had him alone, in a place where he would have to listen. In the meantime, all she wanted was to keep Kyle off-balance. How could he possibly imagine an unfaithful wife, when a chattering magpie was carting a cat around and handing him tennis shoes?

He gave up trying to talk, and finished the packing and other details with a silent, cold efficiency that would have won praise from a computer. She thought unhappily that she could read his mind. All along they had regarded their mini-vacation as a chance to go to a private place to have time to talk seriously about where they stood with each other. What he believed had happened with Morgan didn’t change that. They needed to talk-badly. He no longer cared where.

Neither of them mentioned that Morgan’s car and trailer were gone. Erica barely took time to breathe; they had to be packed and on their way by nine-thirty. When Kyle’s foot pressed on the accelerator to get them to the airport on time, she felt a strange rush of exhilaration, of relief. She knew he’d wanted to walk away, but he hadn’t; it made her believe all over again there was something to fight for. Her heart snatched at that mood and held it until they reached the airport.

A very few minutes later, they were standing in front of the plane. It resembled a shiny white toy in the morning sun, with a dozen shiny dials that would have caught a child’s eye.

“You’ve forgotten?” Kyle questioned. “Just step on the mark on the wing.”

The wing dipped as Erica put her weight on it. “I’ll bet this thing runs by remote control at a baby airport,” she marveled aloud.

For the first time all morning, she saw him give a hint of a smile. “Now don’t tell me you’re nervous. You’ve flown in dozens of these.”

“A while back. I loved carnival rides as a kid, too.” She felt a gentle swat on her bottom that pleased her enormously. He was trying, and no matter what his feelings, she knew he wouldn’t allow them to affect his concentration while he was at the controls. Kyle had earned his license a long time ago through Morgan’s father. Flying freight runs paid good money when he was in school. Afterward, Mr. Shane had been both disappointed and a little angry when Kyle refused to join him, preferring to go into business for himself. Morgan’s father had wanted Kyle more than he’d wanted his own son in the business…but at the moment all Erica could think of was how long it had been since she’d actually flown in one of these little puddle jumpers. Kyle was stowing sleeping bags, totes, a food box, tent, first-aid kit… When he was done, he just looked at her, and there was a second smile. “I think we should have hired a seven-forty-seven.”