Page 35

chapter thirty-four

Emily

I let out a strangled sound of relief and pleasure as his tongue swept into my mouth, claiming me. Him. The man who’d kept me safe as the world around us crumbled. The boy I’d loved all my life. Tuck.

I writhed, our hearts crashing against each other’s chests, small sounds of desperation coming from the back of his throat each time I slid against him. The Tuck I’d just raced across the desert with was the Tuck I’d known, the one who’d looked to me to draw him out. He’d only ever needed a small push, the tiniest of nudges to release some of the pent-up pressure he held inside. And I’d loved it. Loved the way he’d trusted me. Loved the way he made me feel necessary. We’d always balanced each other, and I wanted to weep with the knowledge that we still did.

“Em,” he gritted, breaking from my mouth, breath coming out in harsh gusts against my cheek. “Em. I’m going to—”

“Not here,” I said, my own voice filled with the heady arousal pounding between my legs. We’d find a camp, and we’d spread out our sleeping bags. We’d have the whole night. With a shiver of desperate anticipation, I quickly swung my leg around him, scooted back, and then dismounted the horse. He jumped down easily too and turned toward me, smoothing a few pieces of hair back from my face. He looked slightly drugged and maybe feverish as well, and though I appreciated the horse for the thrilling ride she’d just given us, I needed to get her to a safe spot so we could pick up where we’d just left off. “Do you think that’s her ranch?” I asked, pointing next to us where the other horses roamed, nibbling on bales of hay sitting in various spots around the corral.

Tuck’s vision seemed to clear, and he tilted his head slightly as he watched the horses. “There are bales of hay all over. And their pen is open,” he said, pointing to where I now saw a wide-open gate.

He took the horse’s reins in his hand and began leading her to the corral. “Why would they leave their gate open?”

“Possibly because they left and weren’t sure they’d return and wanted to give the horses a way out when the food was gone. Or at least, that’s what I’d do,” he muttered.

I removed our backpacks from where they’d been draped, and Tuck took off the horse’s bridle, rubbing her down with his hand before she wandered over to a bale of hay. There was a water trough near the fence that appeared connected to a rain barrel, that another horse stood drinking from.

Tuck paused and looked around, obviously considering what to do with the bridle in his hand. “The stable door is open,” I said, pointing across the way. We walked through the corral, and into the dim stable, the last of the light illuminating the entrance, but casting the back in shadow. Tuck set the bridle down just as I spotted something taped to the wall on my left. I removed it, read quickly, and handed it to Tuck.

“It’s a list of the horse’s names next to descriptions,” he said. “‘If you take one of our horses, we beg you to please treat them well. They are loved.’” Tuck lowered the note. “They did leave, then,” he said. “Temporarily, at least.”

I briefly wondered why, but realized I didn’t have to. All over the country, people were either trying to get to safety, or attempting to make it to the people they loved. As this ranch was far away from any major metropolitan area and somewhat tucked behind some hills, the owners wouldn’t have to worry much about safety, especially if they were armed. They’d have a good view of anyone approaching from all directions, and they’d have time to prepare. Of course, it was possible they’d run out of food and been forced to head out to search for some, but I thought it was more likely that they’d left to find a family member. It made a lump form in my throat to consider the choices people had had to make, willing to leave safety behind for love.

We left the stables and walked around the front of the house. The front door was locked, but when we rounded the corner of the house and found a side door that led into an attached garage, Tuck turned the knob and pulled it open. He stood there still for a moment, his body blocking the interior. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” I asked, moving around him and stepping inside. I let out a giddy laugh of disbelief, turning to look at him with wide eyes before bringing my gaze back at the classic yellow car.

“It looks like there was one parked next to it,” I said, nodding to the empty spot where a canvas cover like the ones my dad had used to protect his cars had been discarded. “Whoever lives in that house had to have taken one of the cars and left.”

He moved around the yellow car and then tried the knob on a door that likely led into the house, finding it unlocked too. “Hello?” he shouted inside. Only silence returned, though he still shouted hello one more time to the same result. “Look,” he said, walking toward a pegboard on the wall where a singular key was hung. “Holy shit.” He plucked it off the board and held it up.

“Do you think it’ll work?” Had we really gotten this lucky?

“There’s only one way to find out.” He opened the driver’s side door, and I quickly rounded the car and got in on the passenger side as he was turning the key in the ignition. It rattled, and sputtered, and when it caught, rumbling to life, I let out a gleeful squeal as I clapped my hands together. “It runs! Oh my God. Tuck.”

He met my eyes. “We’ll write down the address. We’ll return it as soon as we can.”

“They have a car,” I said. “And who even knows if they’ll be back.”

“Still,” he said.

I smiled. “Still.” Doing the right thing mattered, even now. And why that made me feel powerful when perhaps it should have done the opposite, I didn’t even know.

He turned off the ignition and then I ran my hand over the dash and peeked at him sideways. “This classic car brings back memories,” I said. “Of that old dusty loft you found peaceful for some reason.”

He opened his mouth to say something but then merely smiled, that secretive one that had always made me want to pin him down and force him to tell me what he was thinking.

He slid from the car and pocketed the key. “So, then we’ll stay here tonight and leave in the morning. But I do want to check the house more thoroughly and make sure this is what it looks like. Wait here for a few?”

I nodded and then he disappeared through the door, returning about five minutes later and beckoning me inside. “All clear,” he said. “There’s an itinerary for a middle school trip to DC on the kitchen counter. I wonder if they took off to find their kid.”

God. The stories to be told from this disaster. I’d seen so many awful things on the road, the worst side of humanity showing itself, but I’d also been struck by the fact that when the lights went out, the first thing human beings did was reach for those they loved.

I wondered if years into the future, people would say, “Where were you?” And no one would have to clarify, “When?” Because everyone would know exactly what the asker meant. Where were you when the lights went out?

And I had this overwhelming feeling of gratitude, even though my personal answer to that question would likely give me some amount of PTSD for many years to come. I was on an airplane. We made a crash landing. The gratitude was for the fact that when we crawled from the wreckage, I was with Tuck. And there was no one better to find at my side.

I heard a sound outside but realized it was just one of the horses out back, letting out a soft whinny. “What if the people who live here are gone now, but return?”

“We’ll hear them coming. They have a car.”

“Good point.” I came to stand in front of him and our eyes met, the moment weighty and full.

He tilted his head, his gaze moving over my face. And there was something sort of assessing, and sort of soft in his eyes that made a small shiver run over my skin. Whatever he was thinking made him smile in that secretive way of his, and I very suddenly loved that secretive smile when I knew thoughts of me were behind it.

And though I’d been needy and desperate and ready to have sex while seated on a horse just a short time before, now that my blood had cooled and rational thought had returned, I felt a little nervous too. Tuck looking at me the way he was made me feel giddy, but also young and a little bit shy because God but this man meant so much to me, and he always had.

“If you, ah, have to use the bathroom, we should go outside now before I lock up. There won’t be plumbing in here.”

“I’m good.”

“Okay, me too.” He pointed at the staircase, a beam of muted light coming in through the large window overhead. “Go ahead and pick a room. I’m going to make sure all the doors and windows are secured and check to see if they left any weapons behind.”

I nodded, and our eyes lingered, and it was clear that we both knew what we wanted and understood exactly what was going to happen between us. To me it felt destined, like I’d finally arrived at a place I’d been traveling to my entire life. My skin prickled with anticipation and for a moment I found it difficult to draw in air. For a moment I was afraid. But of what, I couldn’t exactly say. It felt like holding something precious and delicate that, left unattended, was very likely to break. Or disappear. “I’ll just…ah…” I waved my hand toward the stairs.

“I’ll find you.” He smiled and it was sweet. It was the smile of the boy he’d been, and it caused a flurry of wings to take up under my rib cage. I turned and ran quickly up the stairs.

I poked my head into a primary bedroom, and a child’s room, both obviously lived in, the drawers open in the primary as though the couple had packed in a hurry.

The room at the end of the hall appeared to be a guest room, and I set my things down in the upholstered chair in the corner and then turned to the dresser where there were a couple of candles and a lighter. This family had done as so many others had probably done as well—they’d placed candles in all the rooms, they’d lit fires in their wood-burning fireplaces, and then they’d waited it out, thinking it was just a winter outage and the lights would be back on shortly. Especially in a more remote place like this, it might have been several days before they realized something was very wrong.

I lit the candles and the wicks flickered to life, mixing with the final glow of the sunset through the sheer curtains on the window.

The door to the attached bathroom was open slightly and I went inside and tried the faucet just because but the only thing that came out was a few brown dribbles.

But when I pulled back the shower curtain, I saw that they’d filled up the bathtub before they’d left. “Yes,” I murmured. I plugged the sink and then used a cup on the vanity to scoop some water from the tub, using as little as I thought I needed to clean up.

A washcloth and a minute amount of their bodywash served to clean the road dust from my body. I twisted to dab at the wound on my hip, the one that hadn’t bothered me for days now, noting that it was almost completely gone. This odd feeling of disbelief overcame me to know that so much healing could happen when you weren’t even paying attention. And I had this sudden appreciation for my body that I’d never had before. Not because of the way it looked or performed, but because of the way it could heal. And hope blossomed, the belief that it wasn’t only our bodies that would mend from the tragedy befalling the world, but so would our spirits. In time.

I hummed as I took my hair down and used my fingers to work out the tangles. I could hardly remember what it felt like to have clean, blown-out hair. “Ouch,” I yelped when a finger got caught in my hair. I lowered my hand and saw that the last piece of my fake nail that had been glued to the bed of my thumb had lifted at the corner and snagged some strands.

The small remnant came off easily and I watched as the final piece of Nova dropped into the empty waste can next to the sink. I stood there for a moment, staring down at that tiny fragment of a different life, a different me. And I was surprised that that girl with the glamorous nails and luxurious hair extensions already felt so distant, the false parts of her dropped piece by piece on lonely back roads and in dewy fields as I was both lost…and somehow found.

I’d truly believed she was my ticket to happiness and so I’d embraced her even if that costume had never quite fit, not as uncomfortable as the last formal dress I’d worn, but a touch itchy nonetheless even if I couldn’t figure out why when to the naked eye, I looked so damn perfect. I wondered now how long I would have been able to keep up the facade of Nova, wondered if I would have taken a similar route as Jane Pritchard, numbing with pills and wondering why I was so unhappy if all my dreams had supposedly come true.

It was a sad sort of thought because while a part of me felt free, and even confusingly saved in ways I couldn’t untangle now, it was also a goodbye. To a thousand dreams that had come true for a moment but wouldn’t last. To bright lights and cheering crowds. To the superstar I might have been.

I went back into the bedroom, where I found a T-shirt in one of the dresser drawers. I hoped it was simply one someone who had stayed in this room had left behind and would never miss. But as far as a pair of underwear, I was going to be a brazen thief because even someone else’s clean ones were a luxury I could not pass up. I slipped the T-shirt over my head and then returned to the primary bedroom where I opened the top drawer and found the absolute bounty of an unopened package of cotton bikinis, size small.

“Oh sweet Jesus,” I breathed, bringing the plastic to my lips and kissing it. “Oh thank You, God.” I ripped the package open and pulled on the baby pink pair of underwear and then ran back to the guest room. I tossed the rest of the package of underwear into my backpack, threw myself on the bed, and then lay there grinning up at the ceiling. “Thank you, house owner, whoever you are. I will pay this forward.”

“Pay what forward?” I sat up so quickly I gave myself a head rush, bringing my hand to my temple and cringe-laughing.

“Nothing,” I said. “All secured?”

Tuck set his backpack down on the floor next to the chair. “Yeah.” He closed the bedroom door and locked it, and that small click made my tummy squeeze. “All secured.”

We stared at each other in heavy silence for a few seconds before I waved toward the bathroom. “There’s water in there,” I said. “In the tub. If you wanted to…clean up or—”

“Great. Yes. That’d be great.” He picked his bag back up and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

I lay back on the bed, trying to calm my nerves as I again gazed at the ceiling. God, my heart was thumping with both excitement and fear. I vaguely wondered if this is how it would have been if Tuck and I had dated in high school. If the cascade of tragedies that had occurred in the wake of his mother getting sick hadn’t happened…if his mother had never died… Would we have snuck out windows at midnight? Would we have made out in the back seat of cars? Gone to that prom together and then rented a hotel room afterward and lost our virginity to each other?

It seemed like such a faraway possibility, and also one that should have happened but had been lost, caused by some wrinkle in time. And I felt this sense of wonder knowing maybe those disruptive wrinkles eventually smoothed, and when they did, what was lost, was found.

The door clicked open, and Tuck exited, dropping his backpack on the floor. His gaze slid over me, lingering on the pink cotton between my legs, barely showing beneath the hem of the T-shirt that had risen when I’d lain down. And I swore I could feel that glance touch my tender flesh, a buzz of electricity flowing from him to me. His eyes moved down my legs, and I saw him swallow. “Em,” he said, his voice thick. “I, ah.” He stuck his hands in his jean pockets, and I sat up, concerned by the doubt I heard in his tone.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just…you should know that it’s been ah—”

“It’s been a long time.” My breath released, tenderness grip ping my heart. He was worried because he hadn’t had sex with anyone in a long time.

I stood, going to him and then placed my hand on his chest. “I understand.”

He shook his head slowly, his expression so vulnerable. “No, Em, I’m not sure you do.”

I lifted my hand and then ran my thumb over his flushed cheekbone before I brought my mouth to his, kissing him softly, just once, and then lowering my lips to his throat. “Yes, I do,” I whispered. I trailed my hand down his T-shirt and then lifted the hem and dragged my fingers lightly over the warm skin of his stomach. His skin was velvety, and the sparse line of hair tickled my fingertips. I smiled against the dip at the base of his throat, and he let out a low groan.

My heart soared, and I felt electrified, and I knew that he was telling me that he was worried about things being over before they started, but honestly, I felt desperate too. To discover him, to explore, to satisfy a desire that it felt as if I’d carried all my life, beginning from those first flushed moments staring at his features in a photograph in my girlhood room.

I took a tiny step back and lifted his T-shirt, bringing it up and over his head. I took a moment, just one, to let my eyes roam his smooth, muscular chest and then brought my hand out and laid it over his heart. I’d known his body once, every dip and swell, because I’d memorized him. I’d watched as he picked fruit, and lifted bales of hay, and waded in the creek running through our land. But he’d become a man since then, and I had so much to rediscover. I felt greedy and hungry and breathless with need, overwhelmed by the weight of this moment.

He groaned when I lowered my mouth to one of his flat nipples, weaving his fingers into my hair. “Even this, Em, I… God.”

“I know,” I whispered, and then I went down on my knees.

He let out a small sound that made me smile. It was surprise and gratitude and uncertainty and desperation all mixed into one. And it was the first time I’d ever seen Tucker Mattice willingly hand over full control to anyone.

I unbuttoned his jeans and dragged them down over his straining erection, swallowing as I reminded myself that I would have time to explore him later. This was for him, and it meant that we could take our time after this.

God he was beautiful though. Big and hard and perfectly formed. I ran a finger along a vein and then licked the drop of moisture from his tip. He made another sound of desperate anticipation, and I gave him a small push so that he staggered back and fell into the upholstered chair behind him. Then I pulled his jeans farther down around his ankles and he kicked out of them so I could push them aside. I positioned myself between his thighs, meeting his stunned eyes once before I lowered my head and took him in my mouth. He bucked his hips, and I swirled my tongue, taking one long suck as he gave another helpless thrust, making incoherent sounds of pleasure.

I felt powerful and wonderful and, though I loved fighting with Tuck, I also loved pleasuring him, and never in my life had I felt this intoxicating mix of physical and emotional reactions to any man.

I bobbed my head, sliding up and down on his shaft faster and faster until he let out a growl and another thrust, pressing my shoulders so that my mouth disengaged with a pop. He had his head thrown back and he dug his fingers into my shoulders as he came, his abdominal muscles straining and tightening with each wave of pleasure.

Then his muscles went lax, and he sunk into the chair, bringing his hand to his hair as he raised his head. “My God. I told you,” he said, voice laced with a smidge of embarrassment. “I’m surprised it took that long.”

I breathed out a small laugh as I picked up his T-shirt and swiped it over his lower stomach. Then I leaned forward again, kissing the spot I’d just cleaned and dragging my lips around his naval.

“Earlier, when I mentioned that hayloft where you found peace, what were you thinking?” I propped my chin on his stomach and looked up at him. He still looked drugged and satisfied and very, very beautiful, candlelight caressing his features in both shadows and highlights.

“How do you know I was thinking anything?”

“Because I know your expressions, Tuck.” I ran my short fingernails over his hip and felt the beginnings of another erection stir at my breasts. His eyes went sort of dreamy as he looked down at me. “Even now. I know when you’re keeping secrets.”

I brought my other hand to the opposite hip and scraped my fingernails over his skin and then leaned up slightly so I could do the same to his inner thighs. I watched as he stiffened into an erection again even though the evidence of his recent orgasm was still drying on his lower stomach. I wrapped my hand around him, and he let out a hum. “Tell me,” I cajoled, giving a slow stroke.

“Oh God, Em. Uh, I was thinking about how you always liked to disturb my peace. A lifetime thorn in my side.” He smiled but it was fleeting. When he met my eyes, I saw the earnestness in his expression. “I never could dig you out. Time hasn’t changed that, and I don’t have any desire to try.”

My heart gave a kick. Tuck. He could be so sweet when he wanted to be. And oh I loved hearing his secrets.

He put his hand on mine and forced me to halt midstroke. He began to sit up, his stomach muscles bunching. “And do you want to know what I’m thinking now?”

A thrill whirled through me. “Yes.”

“I’m thinking that if I don’t get inside you, I might die, and there’s a bed right behind us and I mean to make use of it. Is that okay with you?”

My mouth went dry, nipples pebbling, and all I could do was nod. His eyes moved lazily to my chest and stayed there for a moment. And then he stood up, pulling me to my feet as he walked me backward, both of us laughing as we tumbled down.