Chasing Shade Part 3

Betsey smiled. 'If you think cussing bothers me you clearly haven't been around me during a dinner rush.' She winked at him.

He blushed a little and Betsey tried to recall anything more fetching in a man than that slight tinge of red. She couldn't think of anything.

She had a sudden and very vivid mental image of insinuating herself between his thighs and just...kissing him. Kissing him until his hands were in her hair and he was laying her back on that sofa. She shook her head to ward off the image. The ache from her two years of abstinence beat like a steady drum in her torso and much, much lower.

'So...?'

'So, it ended a year and a half ago when she demanded a baby. That cleared my head. I could not bring a baby into that crazy farce of a relationship. I had built the nightmare, I had to end it. So I did.'

'Mary?'

'Mary ran off with a band.' He snorted. 'Good riddance. But the ironic part was she moved on once my thing with Jessica ended.'

'And you were suddenly in the wind.'

'I got a good lawyer, a friend of my late father's. One good payout to Jessica and the year's separation and I was done with marriage. Possibly for ever.' He laughed bitterly. She saw his bright eyes grow a little cloudy.

There was more hurt in this story than he was letting on but she decided not to press that particular bruise. After all, they were practically strangers.

'You don't have to tell me the rest,' she said, sipping her tea.

He c.o.c.ked his head and then set his mug down. He groaned, scrubbing his face with his hands before looking her dead in the eye. 'Would I seem like a big weirdo if I asked if I could tell the rest? Because it's making me feel better? And you're the first person I've actually wanted to talk about this to in...for ever?'

That pulse in her belly and much lower blossomed instantly into full-blown arousal. Now she felt her heartbeat in her pelvis. She was wet and she had an irrational stabbing fear that he would be able to look at her and tell. Or, worse, smell her arousal in the small confined s.p.a.ce of her tiny, happy home.

Betsey pushed all that away and simply nodded. 'Of course you can. Glad to help.'

He smiled and it made his eyes crinkle at the edges. 'That was it for me and Jess. And I was OK with it. Then I arrived to work a week or so after the divorce was final and found that I was one of the four people being laid off due to my company's downsizing.'

'Ouch.' She winced and it was authentic. He was such a nice guy that it seemed like one too many blows from the c.r.a.p hammer in such a short span. 'What happened to Mary, by the way?'

'Oh, it turns out that the cure for Mary chasing after me was not being wanted by the other woman any more. Who knew?' He shrugged. 'But it's fine. It worked out for the best.' He waved a hand at her but she wasn't fooled. Betsey could see the carefully buried pain in that statement.

'Maybe it is, though, Archie,' she said, rocking forwards to put a hand on his knee. It might have been a mistake. The moment she touched him a sparking sensation raced along her skin. Betsey knew it was her imagination, her body reacting to her sudden attraction for him h.e.l.l, for anyone but it sure as s.h.i.t felt real.

'I'm sure it is,' he said. He had frozen when she touched him and Betsey became painfully aware that she was still touching him. Her hand still on the soft, pale denim that covered his thigh. She cleared her throat and let the rocking chair rock back and put some distance between them. 'So what happened?' she practically whispered.

'What happened was I got a decent not great, but decent severance package and then I had to start looking for a job.'

She sighed but said nothing.

'Yeah, good luck with that, right? Right now? My G.o.d. The people who used to be buying and selling McDonald's franchises are now working at them. So I did piecemeal work. I found stuff that was short-term and I worked it and I...' He petered off, and a bitter bark of laughter burst out of him. It was so sharp it startled her.

'Then?' Her tea was cold.

'I had to move in with my mother.'

She laughed. She couldn't help it. 'That's the worst. But I have to say, the way you built it up I thought you were going to tell me you had to turn to hooking.'

His eyebrows shot up and total silence filled the Airstream. And then they were both laughing, Betsey so hard she held her stomach.

'Hey now,' he said, smacking her thigh playfully. He'd been the one to lean forwards this time. 'You make that sound implausible.'

She stared at his hand and there was an electric-spark moment again. Everything seemed to speed up and slow down simultaneously.

'No,' Betsey said. 'It isn't.' But then she caught sight of the time. 'Mr Booth '

'Oh, s.h.i.t. Sorry, we can '

'No,' she said. 'Tell me.'

'I moved in with my mother. And if that isn't sad enough...' He sighed and finished off his tea with a final gulp. 'Ready for the punchline?'

'Sure,' she said, though she knew it had to be bad. Judging by how his blue eyes had gone grey and his generous mouth had turned down and tightened.

'She kicked me out.'

'What? Your mom?'

'Yep. We were never very close to begin with. Not since my dad died anyway. She's made some choices...I don't quite agree with, but I thought we were close enough to let me live in her bas.e.m.e.nt.' He groaned. 'How sad is that?'

'I've heard worse,' she said. And it was true. She had.

'Her boyfriend...he didn't like me being there. So he gave her a choice. Me or him. Turns out that Jerry and his sizeable retirement fund mean more than her son. So ' he made a popping noise with his mouth ' it was the boot for me. So here I am.' He threw his hands up and grinned, but his eyes were sad. 'A truck, a little money left and a need to find a job and a home and a place to lay my head.'

'Welcome to your new home,' she said. She stuck her hand out and he took it. 'It will get better, Archie,' she said. She managed to ignore that touching him was making her heart pound.

'Promise?'

'I promise.'

'How do you know?'

'It has to,' she said.

'Can't you call me Rader?' he asked, hopeful.

'Nope. Archie it is.'

'I surrender.'

'That's wise,' she said. 'Now let's go meet your new boss.'

Charlie Booth was a grizzled old man who cursed like a prison inmate on cable TV.

'You got a bad back?'

'No,' Archie said.

'Got a problem with the bottle?'

Betsey's eyes slid to him when the question was asked, as well. Archie shook his head. 'Nope.'

'Any crazy people gonna show up looking for you and create drama in my park?' Charlie was whittling a stick as he asked these questions. The shavings drifted around his ancient work boots and littered the rag rugs scattered around his office.

Archie wondered wildly if he lived in his office. He rerouted his attention and answered the question. 'Nope.'

'Then you have the job.'

He blinked. What the h.e.l.l? 'What? That was it? Just that?'

'Sure. I trust Betsey. She wouldn't have brought you here if she didn't believe you'd be a good fit. I'll need your driver's licence and Social Security number and for you to fill out an application and forms and all that normal b.s. But we can do that tomorrow. I'll let Betsey show you to your trailer. You can get settled and you can start in the morning. Let her show you around and all that jazz. Tomorrow you can start your to-do list.' He cackled at this and grabbed a yellow legal pad. Then he proceeded to riffle through the top four pages. 'It's a decent-sized one.'

Archie had a brief urge to turn tail and run but decided it was better to put down some tentative roots and feel mildly overwhelmed than to drift and roam and fall asleep at night unsettled and lost.

'Fine by me.' He stuck out his hand. 'I appreciate the chance, Mr Booth. I won't let you down. Either of you,' he said, smiling at Betsey.

'See that you don't,' Booth said in his grumpy growly voice. But he shook Archie's hand. 'I'm too old to have to kick your a.s.s.'

Betsey giggled and held out her hand too. Seeing it made his heart jump in his chest jump so hard it made his throat grow tight. Archie took her hand.

'Come on. I'll show you your new place before he makes you perform some strange initiation ceremony or something.'

They left Booth's office. Outside, in the faded winter sun, she grabbed him and hugged him hard. 'Congratulations, Archie! I hope you don't regret joining our little community.'

He hugged her back. Crushing her trim body to his. Letting himself have that for just a second. Just this one moment in time. Her curves were warm and inviting against him and Archie had to withdraw from the hug even though she felt perfectly content to stay there. His body was getting a little too happy to hug her. And he didn't want to put her in a position where she regretted helping him out.

Chapter 6.

'Oh, s.h.i.t,' Betsey said. Then she started to laugh. Luckily Archie was laughing with her. Within a minute they were hanging off each other like two drunks, laughing like lunatics.

'Oh, my G.o.d!' Archie whooped and then dissolved into even more laughter.

'Are we laughing as a defence mechanism?' she asked.

Archie was nodding. Nodding like a bobblehead in a car window. And she found it endearing. That hug had managed to heat her up and make her wonder. Wonder what that hug could have turned into had they added a kiss to the scenario.

'Yes. Yes, we are. What is this, Betsey?' He sat down on a milk crate and put his head in his hands.

'It's better than your truck, right?'

'Barely,' he snorted. He wiped his eyes and ran a hand through his hair as he scanned the employee 'accommodations'.

'And better than a...seedy motel?' she asked, trying not to wince.

'I'm not sure about that.'

'I'll help you!' Betsey said, surveying the s.p.a.ce. The swayback sofa crouched in the corner by the front door of the trailer. It was, not to put too fine a point on it, baby-s.h.i.t yellow.

There were no other seats.

The kitchen was grimy, the cabinets hanging open to show nothing but bare shelves and a few cracked dishes. The curtains on the windows were threadbare. The rug on the floor matched. She poked a head in the bathroom. Dirty and bare-bones. No shower curtain on the stand-up shower. The bedroom was a bare mattress, a nearly empty bookshelf and a closet with wire hangers, no clothes. It was...a mess.

'Not even you can save this, Betsey,' he said, coming up close behind her. She felt his energy rushing around her like water swirling around her when she stood in the ocean. Betsey eyed the bed and wondered, what if...

She shook it off and grabbed his hands. What was it with her and touching him? She couldn't quite help herself, it seemed. 'After my breakfast shift tomorrow we can go to the thrift store. I promise, for very little money I can make this place more like a home and less like a...' She looked around and sighed. 'Life sentence.'

He was watching her and she became supremely aware of her body. How she was standing. What she might look like. And the fact that she was still holding his hands in hers. Squeezing. Her heart kicked up a notch and she whispered, 'I promise, Archie.'

When he put his hands on her face and looked into her eyes, she felt a little woozy. Her mind scrambled stupidly, given the moment she was in to remember the last time she'd been this close to a man. And, worse yet, this close and this attracted.

'Betsey?'

'Yes?' His eyes were so blue. So, so blue. She didn't know eyes could be that blue. Or jaws that strong, or stubble that dark, or smiles that...s.e.xy. Jesus, so s.e.xy.

'I believe you,' he said. And then he kissed her. A soft, seeking kiss that stole her breath and made her fingers curl in the hem of his shirt. They were that close. Close enough in the horrid trailer that she could feel the heat that drifted off him enveloping her. Close enough that she could sense his body growing chaotic and heated within, the same way hers was. Close enough that when she stopped standing so rigid and let her body melt against his she felt that he was just as attracted to her as she was to him.

She could also tell, based on the size of that hard-on, that if she ever slipped up and let herself get close...she wouldn't regret it. Not for a second.

She gave herself over to the kiss. When his tongue slid against hers she wanted to wave the white flag and give into her desires. She pushed her body against his and him against her. Betsey swore for a second she could feel his heart pounding in counter time to hers. She gasped when his big hands slid low, caressed her hips and then cupped her a.s.s cheeks. The sound seemed to clear both their heads. They jumped apart like two teenagers caught necking in a dark corner at a dance.

She smoothed her hands over the front of her sweater. Her nipples were ridiculously hard, she realised, and there was nothing she could do about it. So she crossed her arms in front of her chest. 'Sorry,' she said.

Archie ran both hands through his dark, already tousled hair, and groaned like a dying man. 'Christ, me too. I'm sorry. I just...I am so grateful and it's been so long and you smell so good and...' He c.o.c.ked his head at her, grinning.

It went straight between her thighs, that smile. Her p.u.s.s.y was keeping a steady wet pulse with her pounding heart. She felt like, if she gave into it, she'd push him back and have her way with him right there in the middle of his new, horrid hovel of a trailer.

'And?' she managed.

'And you're certainly not hard to look at, Betsey,' he said softly, and touched her cheek.

The cheek touch rekindled the idea of riding him like a cowgirl. Instead she laughed nervously and tugged his jacket. Not his hand, not his arm, not anything that could ignite her nerve endings. 'Come on. I think I have an extra set of sheets you can borrow. We can clean up a bit and tomorrow we'll set about turning it into a home instead of a hole.'

He laughed. 'I'll definitely need your magic touch for that.'

Four hours later they were both covered in dust and grimy. The mattress had been beaten within an inch of its life and covered in clean sheets borrowed from Betsey. The sofa had been covered with a gypsy print throw on loan until she could get him to the thrift store. The floors had been swept and Betsey, G.o.d love her, had crawled around on her hands and knees with sanitising wipes to clean the small linoleum floor.

'Sorry,' she grunted. 'My mop broke last week. I still need to get one, and, knowing Mr Booth, he won't have one. He hires a lady from town to come in and clean his trailer once a month.' She snorted. 'Should be more often than that, if you ask me.'

Archie couldn't stop himself. The whole time she was crawling around and he was dusting the high parts to get rid of spider webs, he kept watching her a.s.s. It was impossible not to, now that he'd cupped it in his hands and held her close. His c.o.c.k still ached if he let himself think about it. It had been almost a year for him. After the initial woe-is-me feeling of not wanting to date while living in his mother's bas.e.m.e.nt had pa.s.sed only to leave him in a place emotionally and mentally where he just wanted to be alone. He'd been fine being alone. Grateful for it.