Colleen Collins - Let It Bree

“They didn’t notice me, Lou.” Shorty’s voice was getting all whiney again.

Wifey number three was looking better and better. Louie hunkered down, watching the people stash the boxes in the back of the truck. “We’ll sit here, wait for the guy’s buddies to leave and then we’ll have a little chat with our ponytail friend.”

“What for? There’s no bull.” A match sizzled as Shorty lit his cigarette, carefully hiding the flame behind his cupped hand.

“He might not have the animal in the truck at this very moment, but he knows where he dropped our Mr. Money Bull.”

“Mr. Money Bull,” Shorty repeated, blowing out a stream of smoke.

Louie grinned, enjoying a whiff of secondhand smoke. Enjoying even more the word money. Oh yeah, once this gig was up, life was gonna be sweet.

A few minutes passed as boxes were loaded in the back of the Nederlander Highlander truck, then the guys, except for the ponytailed one, returned to Ned Head Ed’s bar.

“He’s alone.” Shorty made a great show of stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray.

“Let’s go have us a little chat,” said Louie, tugging the collar of his leather jacket up around his ears.

“You carryin’?” asked Shorty.

Louie shook his head no. “Don’t need no gun to convince Mr. Nederlander that all we need is a little information. I have a feelin’ he’ll sing with very little persuasion. Just like a little canary.”

“Tweet tweet,” said Shorty, opening his door.

KIRK YAWNED and blinked open his eyes.

In front of him, like two burnished columns, were a pair of bare legs.

Long.

Shapely.

Sleepily, he gazed up those legs, past the thighs, daring to look farther…

She moved and a blast of sunlight hit him smack in the face.

He squinted, his eyes aching from the white brightness.

She moved again, her body shadowing his face.

He dared to open one eye, then the other, and stared at a very curvy bottom in a pair of creamy pink undies.

She bent over and the very curvy bottom widened provocatively, stretching those creamy pink cotton undies until the pink became sheer…so sheer, the color looked more fleshy than pink.

Kirk licked his suddenly dry lips as his pulse kicked up a notch. That was no fleshy color.

That was flesh.

His stomach muscles bunched. His face flamed hot.

Kirk blinked rapidly, amazed at the physical reactions he was having. He, who prided himself on his intellect. Dr. Dunmore, global expert on the late Cretaceous period, recipient of prestigious paleobotany awards, the discoverer of the new dinosaur species Saurexallopus lovei…

Was suffering from libido fever.

Struggling to breathe, Kirk watched as Bree pulled a pair of jeans over that tan, pink-clad rump.

“Checking me out?”

Caught.

He jerked up his gaze. “No, I, uh, was, uh, watching the sun coming up.” Hell, he was getting married in less than forty-eight hours. Whoever named pre-wedding jitters “cold feet” was too subtle. This was out-and-out body freeze.

She turned and faced him, her hands on her ample jean-clad hips. “You really are from another planet, aren’t you?”

With great effort, he maintained eye contact and whispered hoarsely, “Gor.”

“What?”

He cleared his throat. “Gor, the counter-Earth planet.” Which was pretty much the truth because Kirk Dunmore sure didn’t conform to most of the stupid guy-stuff on Earth. He didn’t play pool, swig beer and had long ago decided “nailing” a woman was despicable and demeaning for both the woman and the man.

So if Gor was good enough for Tarl Cabot, it was good enough for Kirk Dunmore.

Bree flashed him a quizzical look. “Is Gor where you paleo-paleo-whatever-you-guys-are visit to dig up fossils?”

“No, it’s what we paleobotanists say to cover moments when we’re caught gawking at a woman’s body parts. Very lovely body parts, may I add.”

Was she blushing?

His gut did that funny clench again and he wondered for one insane moment, if maybe, just maybe she felt the same things he was feeling.

With a swivel, Bree turned and headed back to the bed where she sat down and began pulling on her socks and boots. “I know we’ve been playing a bit with each other, but the fact is, you’re almost a married man, Kirk,” she said quietly.

Almost married. Kirk could feel that damn body freeze creep from the tips of his hair all the way down to his toes. Okay, okay, his best buddy George, who was blissfully married and had two great kids, had admitted even he’d had a bad case of cold feet right up until the moment he said “I do” five years ago.

Kirk expelled a slow breath. That’s all this is. A little cold feet, or in my case, a complete body freeze.

He reflected on why and how he’d fallen for Alicia in the first place. At the time, his dating life was more in danger of becoming extinct than the dinosaurs he researched. And when he’d talked to her about his recent discovery of the five-lobed Macginitiea leaf from the Tertiary period nearly forty-five million years ago, he’d loved how her cobalt-blue eyes stayed glued on him, immensely fascinated.

And when she’d murmured that she’d always wanted a smart, prestigious man in her life, he figured this Cherry Creek trophy number was hot for him.

After a few dates, when they were discussing their mutual desire to settle down, have roots, family and children, he did the first spontaneous thing he’d ever done in his life.

He asked her to marry him.

And when she said yes, it wiped out his years of growing up as a lonely kid, moving from town to town, calling at least six different men Dad. Finally, Kirk Dunmore was on the verge of having what he’d always wanted—roots, family, children.

And that had all seemed well and fine until…

Well, until meeting Bree.

Waking up in the room with her this morning, looking at Bree’s freshly scrubbed face, and her “naked confidence” as she strode around in those pink cotton thingies, shook him up like he’d never been shaken before.

He didn’t remember ever feeling that shaken up with Alicia. Maybe if she wasn’t always slathering goop on her face or talking on a cell phone that seemed permanently wedged next to her ear, maybe he’d feel more shaken up.

Or maybe it had nothing to do with goop or phones. Maybe it was simply that Alicia didn’t seem to give a hoot about his research anymore. Months ago, he’d chalked it up to her being preoccupied with the wedding plans, but he sometimes wondered what she’d be preoccupied with after the wedding…

“I’m gonna check on Val,” said Bree, interrupting Kirk’s thoughts.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll join you after I think through a few jigsaw pieces.”

Ignoring her questioning look before she exited, he rubbed his eyes. He had a lot on his plate today.

First, he needed to get gas.

Second, he needed to get back to Denver.

Third, he needed to contact George, ask him to give Bree and Val a ride to Chugwater. He’d call George now, but knew George and his family did their shopping on Saturday mornings, so Kirk would wait to phone.

Then there was the dreaded rehearsal dinner at Alicia’s family’s tony Cherry Creek estate. Monkey suits and small talk. Had Alicia said four or five o’clock? Well, one of those times should work. The family never expected Kirk to be punctual, blaming his absentmindedness on his being a scientist. Whether he was late, lost or just plain forgetful, they cooed and excused the “famous scientist.”

He dragged himself off the sofa and staggered into the bathroom where he splashed cold water on his face. Somehow, in the midst of today’s activities, he needed also to check the I-25 excavation site. He sensed he was close to unearthing some rare fossils there. Plus he’d accidentally dug up that strange, exotic engraved stone last week…very unusual, at least two thousand years old. He couldn’t wait to show it to George.