AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“God. Ploy.” She cringed inside.
“I’m sorry I didn’t think of it first. I could have been learning all your favorite spots and following you around instead of having to wait for you.”
“Are you making fun of me?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“No.”
“Did you tell Zeke you thought I was following you?” she asked with sudden horror.
“I don’t tell Zeke much,” he assured her.
“Renee, then.”
“I don’t confide in my sister, either.” He reached across the car to touch her nape. Tiny tingles of anticipation ran up her neck and she knew she was in trouble. “What kind of guy do you take me for?”
“I really don’t know, do I?”
“Wanna find out?”
They stared at each other for long moments. Becca could feel her pulse beating slow and strong. “Maybe…”
Then she climbed out of the car and hurried into the house before she could make a bigger fool of herself. She told herself the ball was in his court and it was up to him now-dreadfully afraid he would let her down. But he didn’t. He called before she fell asleep that night and made a date with her for the next day.
Two weeks later he kissed her good night outside her door and she was lost all over again, telling herself that she was falling in love and not trying very hard to fight the rush of adrenaline that slipped through her bloodstream whenever she thought of him.
She thought about making love to him. About what it would feel like. And she knew she couldn’t wait long.
She was right.
A couple of nights afterward they came together on a blanket laid out under the stars, far from the lights of his parents’ ranch house, kissing and touching and sighing and then the heat…the incredible heat and desire that caused her to throw away any lingering doubts as easily as stripping him of his T-shirt and jeans. Even now, almost twenty years later, she remembered that first time, the tautness of his body, the strain of his muscles as he moved over her, the firm warmth of his lips as she opened to him. What little pain there had been when he’d first entered her had quickly disappeared in the rapture and need of her first time. Her first love. It was glorious. Heart-stoppingly incredible. She wrapped herself around him and squeezed her eyes tightly shut and swore she would make him hers forever.
Now, thinking back, her tea cold, the dog asleep on the couch near her, the picture of the Madonna statue still starkly visible on the folded page of the newspaper, Becca knew what a fool she’d been. A schoolgirl creating silly fantasies of a perfect life with a perfect man. On this Valentine’s Day, she knew the folly of the whole perfect-man thing. Come on. How naive had she been? “Pretty damned,” she told herself while she scratched Ringo behind his ears and he made happy little grunting sounds without raising an eyelid.
That summer had raced by with the heat and intensity of a prairie fire stoked by hot winds. Becca and Hudson spent every night they could making love: on the sandy shores of the creek while their fishing poles and bathing suits were strung forgotten on the banks; on a blanket in the hayloft with the horses snorting in their stalls below; in the backseat of Hudson’s car or in his bed when his parents were gone and the window was open to let in the soft summer breezes and thrum of bats’ wings.
They couldn’t get enough of each other as the months bled together. They spent time with other friends, of course, and Zeke, Hudson’s best friend, seemed to always be hanging around, though as the weeks passed, he became distant and the relationship between them seemed strained. At the time, Becca had thought her relationship with Hudson had somehow made Zeke uncomfortable. Later she learned that it was Jessie’s disappearance that still affected the one-time best friends.
Jessie, always Jessie.
Now Becca picked up the paper again gingerly, as if its very touch could harm her in some way. She
scoured the article once more. There was no mention of the sex of the remains. Nothing more than the bones’ discovery. But they had to be Jessie’s, didn’t they? Had to be.
You should call someone.
She put her hand on the phone. Picked up the receiver and pressed it to her ear. It rang in her hand and she nearly dropped it. For a wild moment she thought it was Jessie, calling from her opened grave.
For the love of God, Becca, get a grip!
“Hello?” she said, clearing her throat, determined to shake off her case of nostalgia and nerves.
“Becca? Rebecca…Sutcliff? Rebecca Ryan, in high school?”
Her fingers clenched around the receiver. She knew his voice. Damn, but she’d just been thinking of him! Hudson Walker. Her lunatic pulse jumped as it had all those years ago and she inwardly chided herself. “Yeah, Hudson, it’s me.”
“Good. Uh…how’ve you been?”
“Great,” she lied. “Fine.” As if he’d called to inquire about her health. Oh, yeah, sure. After all these years. “I take it you saw the news.”
