That's how I found Kameron McBride. I doubted a Chrysler 300 parked on the side of the road belonged to any hunter, so I guessed a tourist. I pulled up behind the car and ran the plates. Turned out to be a rental. I had a hunch the lady behind the wheel was lost, so I moseyed up and asked for the usual license and rental agreement.
She acted pretty nervous, and had a smart mouth to boot, but I kept my cool until she reached for her purse and something flew out of her hand and bounced off the windshield. Following procedure, I drew my weapon, told her to put her hands up, and drop the object out the window.
I covered her while I squatted down to pick up the cannister. I nearly cracked up. The lady was threatening me with a travel sized can of hairspray!
I let her know she shouldn't be traipsing around in the desert or she'd end up a pile of bones being picked over by the buzzards. I couldn't help teasing her just a little. Something about those eyes... Yeah, I thought she looked pretty good even all sweaty with her hair plastered on her face. I liked her spirit. She was ready to defend herself, even if her only weapon was a can of hairspray. I gotta admire that.
I led her to Rosewood, the town she'd been trying to find. I figured she might like something cold to wet her whistle, so asked her to join me at Jack and Jill's cafe, the diner run by Ray Johnson. I'll admit I wasn't in any hurry to go back on patrol.
There was something else that made me want to stay by her side. My half-sister was full-blood Paiute, training as a medicine woman when she became ill.
I was in Iraq, but had just run up on an IED, so I took the leave offered to take care of Janet. Just before she died, she'd told me I'd find a woman lost in the desert. Well, when I did just that, I knew I had to stick around with Kam. Funny thing, I didn't believe any of the dream vision stuff, but when I found Kam, I knew I had to protect her. After that, I started to take Janet's last words pretty seriously.
Here's a bit from the book that I liked...a lot. We had dinner at the Old Basque Inn--our first date.
Kam spent the next half hour telling him about her mother, her job as a systems analyst, her life in Seattle. By the time they finished dessert, they were laughing and teasing as if they’d known each other for years.
They climbed back into the Expedition. “That was really nice, Mitch. I didn’t think I’d like Basque food that much. Even the txakoli started tasting good.”
Mitch gave her a sidelong glance. “I could stop at the drugstore. It stays open late.”
“I’m fine. I don’t think I need any…oh.” Kam glanced at him. “Yes, let’s stop there first.” She leaned across the center console and moved to kiss Mitch on the cheek. He turned and put his hand behind her head, drawing her in for a long kiss.
When they came up for air, Mitch asked, “My place?”
Kam reached over and put her hand on his thigh. She gave it a squeeze, admiring the solid muscle under the Levis. “Absolutely.” Mitch started the SUV and backed out.
Fifteen minutes and one drugstore stop later, they pulled into the driveway of a small house on a quiet street. Mitch helped her out of the Expedition and unlocked the front door of the single-level ranch. Then he swept up Kam in his arms, carried her across the threshold, and into the bedroom. He set her gently on her feet. “I’ve a bottle of a local wine. I’ll go get it.”
Kam examined the neat room. He had made the bed. Mitch must be the first guy she’d ever met who actually did that. She thought for a second, and a small smile crossed her lips. He’d gone home and cleaned up the house for her. A big pile of brownie points right there. Most guys wouldn’t have bothered even if they thought it a sure thing.
Mitch brought an opened bottle and two glasses. He poured, and offered a toast. “To a new…friendship.”
She clicked glasses with him. “To a new friendship.” She had a momentary twinge. This might be a new friendship, but it wouldn’t last long. When she went back to Seattle, she’d never see him again. Best intentions to stay in touch rarely worked out. She shook the thought off and decided to enjoy the moment.
He took her glass from her hand and set both glasses on the side table. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her, deeply, tenderly. His kisses moved down her neck. Kam arched her head back and sighed. Her body begged for more. Somewhere deep, her brain still clamored for her to stop, not let this get personal. She’d be gone in a few days. Her body won the battle.
She acted pretty nervous, and had a smart mouth to boot, but I kept my cool until she reached for her purse and something flew out of her hand and bounced off the windshield. Following procedure, I drew my weapon, told her to put her hands up, and drop the object out the window.
I covered her while I squatted down to pick up the cannister. I nearly cracked up. The lady was threatening me with a travel sized can of hairspray!
I let her know she shouldn't be traipsing around in the desert or she'd end up a pile of bones being picked over by the buzzards. I couldn't help teasing her just a little. Something about those eyes... Yeah, I thought she looked pretty good even all sweaty with her hair plastered on her face. I liked her spirit. She was ready to defend herself, even if her only weapon was a can of hairspray. I gotta admire that.
I led her to Rosewood, the town she'd been trying to find. I figured she might like something cold to wet her whistle, so asked her to join me at Jack and Jill's cafe, the diner run by Ray Johnson. I'll admit I wasn't in any hurry to go back on patrol.
There was something else that made me want to stay by her side. My half-sister was full-blood Paiute, training as a medicine woman when she became ill.
I was in Iraq, but had just run up on an IED, so I took the leave offered to take care of Janet. Just before she died, she'd told me I'd find a woman lost in the desert. Well, when I did just that, I knew I had to stick around with Kam. Funny thing, I didn't believe any of the dream vision stuff, but when I found Kam, I knew I had to protect her. After that, I started to take Janet's last words pretty seriously.
Here's a bit from the book that I liked...a lot. We had dinner at the Old Basque Inn--our first date.
Kam spent the next half hour telling him about her mother, her job as a systems analyst, her life in Seattle. By the time they finished dessert, they were laughing and teasing as if they’d known each other for years.
They climbed back into the Expedition. “That was really nice, Mitch. I didn’t think I’d like Basque food that much. Even the txakoli started tasting good.”
Mitch gave her a sidelong glance. “I could stop at the drugstore. It stays open late.”
“I’m fine. I don’t think I need any…oh.” Kam glanced at him. “Yes, let’s stop there first.” She leaned across the center console and moved to kiss Mitch on the cheek. He turned and put his hand behind her head, drawing her in for a long kiss.
When they came up for air, Mitch asked, “My place?”
Kam reached over and put her hand on his thigh. She gave it a squeeze, admiring the solid muscle under the Levis. “Absolutely.” Mitch started the SUV and backed out.
Fifteen minutes and one drugstore stop later, they pulled into the driveway of a small house on a quiet street. Mitch helped her out of the Expedition and unlocked the front door of the single-level ranch. Then he swept up Kam in his arms, carried her across the threshold, and into the bedroom. He set her gently on her feet. “I’ve a bottle of a local wine. I’ll go get it.”
Kam examined the neat room. He had made the bed. Mitch must be the first guy she’d ever met who actually did that. She thought for a second, and a small smile crossed her lips. He’d gone home and cleaned up the house for her. A big pile of brownie points right there. Most guys wouldn’t have bothered even if they thought it a sure thing.
Mitch brought an opened bottle and two glasses. He poured, and offered a toast. “To a new…friendship.”
She clicked glasses with him. “To a new friendship.” She had a momentary twinge. This might be a new friendship, but it wouldn’t last long. When she went back to Seattle, she’d never see him again. Best intentions to stay in touch rarely worked out. She shook the thought off and decided to enjoy the moment.
He took her glass from her hand and set both glasses on the side table. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her, deeply, tenderly. His kisses moved down her neck. Kam arched her head back and sighed. Her body begged for more. Somewhere deep, her brain still clamored for her to stop, not let this get personal. She’d be gone in a few days. Her body won the battle.
Mitch, I wouldn't be so cavalier about facing the business end of a travel-sizd can of hairspray. You could end up with your eyelashes in a permanent Mohawk.
ReplyDeleteHi Anne. Eyelashes, mohawk. You're to funny. And, yes, should have taken it seriously enough.
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by.