Page 7 of Shifting Years (Whispering Hills #5)

My white, early-sixties, open-top Chrysler convertible came to a stop outside a brick home under the evening dusk. Donna smiled from the passenger seat. I got out, opened her side, and gently pulled her up.

In the muggy air, we walked in silence over a paved walkway toward a lit house that suggested her parents were up. Good.

"I liked it," she said to the unasked question.

Her slender hands rested over mine. She used her fingers as if they were feet and strolled up my biceps.

"You know," she whispered, "there are advantages to dating the sheriff's son since you have to keep in shape.

" She stared at me, but there was some feminine message I wasn't getting.

After I didn't respond, she continued. "Early access to movies, I suppose."

"Technically a screener so we can see if it's proper to show here."

She frowned slightly. "It sounds awfully like censorship."

"No, that's what they do in Russia. We're making sure these are our type of movies. If folks want to see what's not here, they can go out of town."

"You think they'll allow Easy Rider ?"

"I don't know. They have drug use, and you know how my father hates druggies. However, they get killed at the end, so the board might see it as a good lesson."

"How awful! They were only riding their motorcycles and not bothering anyone."

"Suppose they didn't deserve it."

I'll be a police officer, and I wouldn't be the kind to harass people. The nightly news showed officers with batons hitting people at universities, and their grim expressions reminded me of my father.

Anything but that.

Donna rested my hand over hers. "If I go inside, I'm 'around people.

' Gotta act proper, right?" Her smile tugged at the edge of her voice.

"But out here? It's just us." She looked at me, half-curious.

"I never did get why it matters so much, what other people thought about a man and a woman in love. So, kiss me?"

She leaned into the kiss first and I returned it as expected. You weren't supposed to sleep with a girl before marriage, at least not the ones you'd marry. That's what my father stressed. Kissing was allowed if not demanded.

She mumbled in confusion, and I couldn't let her suspect anything. When we got married, I'd have to do this and more. So, I kissed. Funny how what happened in that backroom bar felt more natural. That guy was short like Donna.

The night drifted away and so did she. My tongue slipped past warm lips which didn't belong to a girl anymore.

Fingers softly dug into flesh while imaginary men around me looked.

Without thought, I growled, warning them away.

That man was an unknown, but he wasn't theirs.

"Mine," I whispered through a deep kiss.

A high-pitched gasp took me out of my imagination. Donna pulled back, her eyebrows raised, and grinned. She licked each lip slowly, tasting me. "'Mine.' Oh, I love it." She blinked fast. "We need to take you to more biker movies if that's your reaction."

I stared back with shame. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I liked it. Really, I did." Her smile faded. "It's okay. We're practically married."

"No, I shouldn't have lost control." I turned and raced to my white convertible. Donna whisper-shouted for me to come back.

I'm a world-class jerk and she deserved better. I could break it off, but there would be consequences: questions, whispers, and her family's influence to contend with.

Our town isn't big, but it seemed like it took hours to approach my parents' single-story red brick home. Like a robot, I had stopped completely at every stop sign and drove at the exact speed limit, like a sheriff's son should do.

That's my life, doing things by the rules.

I could give Donna a big house, with a white picket fence. Then what? Images of little blond boys with her hair and a dark-haired girl came, before disappearing in a flash as if a Russian nuclear bomb exploded.

I parked away from the house, so I wouldn't alert my father. My head rested on the steering wheel, hoping for a solution. I can make it work!

"Uh, Todd?" whispered a male voice behind me.

I have hearing like a dog's, but this guy moved as silent as a ghost. There he was—the short guy from the bar—fidgeting in the dark street with his hands in his pockets, his heartbeat loud enough for me to hear.

I spent hours wondering what I'd say to him. The words were out before I could stop them or the hateful tone. "What in the hell are you doing here?"

Before he died, my grandfather said the bad part of getting old were all the regrets. I just added another.

"I came to return your wallet, man. You dropped it at, well, you know." He shifted his feet against the asphalt. "Can we talk?"

Not out on the street. My father didn't have 'dog ears,' but he observed everything. I half-expected him to come out and demand this guy explain himself. That's not a conversation either of us should have.

"Get in," I whispered. After a moment's hesitation, he slid in, taking Donna's spot. I slowly drove out, so I wouldn't make noise.

I drove in silence and shame. He brought my wallet and himself.

Yes, I wanted to see him, but he couldn't be here.

I pulled into a secluded alley and stared at the short man with a slightly sad smile.

Wrapping him in my arms sounded so right, but common sense screamed no.

Small town secrets don't last long, especially one so scandalous.

"You don't want to see me." He pointed around me. "Your aura's like screaming for me to get away."

"I don't believe in hippie nonsense, but I can't have you here. I have a life." For the second time, I hurt someone who didn't deserve it. Maybe Vietnam wouldn't be so bad. I wouldn't have to worry about these feelings. Just follow orders, do my duty, and live on autopilot. "What's your name?"

"Mike." His tone was flat, and his soft green eyes had the same longing as Donna's when she waited for me to kiss her.

He dug into his backpack and pulled out a familiar, brown leather wallet.

He opened it like a communicator on a Star Trek episode I saw once.

He stared at my license before handing it to me, then got out and stood in the alley.

"Figured you'd want it back and I could use the karma.

I'm camping with some cool people near the woods at an old, white-brick building that says 'Eats.

'" He shrugged. "You can see me tomorrow, if you want. "

There was no desire to be cruel, especially for a third time, but he deserved a response. "You know the answer. I can't be seen with you."

I thought about offering him a ride to the campsite out of decency, but he was already running down the alley and out of my life. He wouldn't tell others, and I was free.

That's what I want, isn't it?

***

It was two nightmares or one dream. Mike moaned in a wooden cabin, bent over a sturdy table, with me behind him.

My pants lay around my ankles. We had done it, judging from the smiles and sweat, but swirling lights surrounded us, and we changed into werewolves.

That part didn't make sense, but Donna and I saw a horror screener a month back. It had beast-men in it.

I stayed still in my bed when morning came, sensing the solitude. My mother was on a week-long visit with my aunt and my father's sour sweat smell wasn't strong.

I showered on auto-pilot, not thinking about anything until I got to the closet. One shirt and pair of pants were as good as another. I've asked Donna why it took so long for her to pick an outfit. Yet, I debated every color and combination.

Several minutes later, I had on a tight, white t-shirt, and jeans.

I could stay away, and I'd never see him again. The second the thought came, my heart seized, as if someone had punched me in the chest.

I'll apologize for being a jerk and tell him there can't be anything between us. I'll man up, say thank you for the wallet, and move on.

***

An old white-brick store doesn't belong at the woods' edge, but Old Man Miller heard rumors of a highway. He'd be the first store when the houses came, but some plans don't happen and neither did the road's construction. Nearby bridges washed out all the time, so no real traffic.

Today, I counted two thin male hippies, and three equally skinny women using the building. One flashed a peace sign as I parked my white convertible.

A man with rose-colored glasses and long blond hair strummed a beat-up guitar as I approached. "Hey man, jam with us?"

The three women responded in unison, "Please do."

"Not a singer."

"You can be," said another man with shoulder-length brown hair and his hand against the ground as if hiding something. "You cool?"

My father taught me drug-user slang, so I knew what sat under his hand. The skunk smell gave it away and I'm pretty much a police officer, just not official.

They didn't do anything destructive and well, they had the courtesy to do it outside town. I'd be like those guys in Easy Rider who shot hippies for no reason if I reported them.

"Not for me," I said.

The brown-haired man shrugged as if I made a mistake.

A choked whisper called from behind. "Out of sight! You came!"

The five hippies chanted with a musical tone. "Mystical Michael!"

Mike held his fingertips together and bowed with closed eyes before opening them and turning to me. "Why?" he whispered.

I had rehearsed a speech, but nothing came. I turned toward the woods and an abandoned barn.

"Why did you come?" he yelled while hurrying next to me. No matter how much I sped up, he kept pace under the overhead branches. He was short but athletic.

He reached up, grabbing my shoulder. With an automatic pivot, I locked his arms in front and slammed him back toward the tree. This time, I started the kiss. I released his hands and my fingers snaked into his thick hair. "Damn you," I whispered.

Tongues circled, tasting the other. My cock ground against his stomach while tree bark fell. I pinned him firmly to the ground, leaning on his wrists, daring him to break free.

He licked his lips and tried breaking free before smiling.

I didn't have to hold him down so my hand went to his crotch.

I wasn't a robot, but I was not in control of my body.

Quick fingers unbuckled his pants, and I don't know if I could take him in my mouth, but I had to repay him for the other night.

I'll try.

His white underwear pulled down, and I gripped his shaft. He moaned with his head arching back. I know my dick, and what I like, but common sense also guided me. Up and down while kissing him.

This was wrong, wasn't it? Yet, I never felt this burn inside me. As if my hands were claws, they went out for an instant before digging into his shirt. I'm sure I almost tore the fabric as I pulled up.

Incredible!

I don't know if beautiful is a word for men, but it is with him. He's short and didn't have my muscles, but the little guy was perfect. I never thought to imagine the ideal man, but there he lay in the dirt.

And he's ready for me to do anything. Anything at all.

I would have entered him, but I didn't have a rubber. Asking in the pharmacy meant questions. Yet, I should do something. I leaned down, passing his mouth, and sucked low on his neck, where a t-shirt could hide it later. Some guys did this with girls, to mark them.

Mike's moans mixed with mine until I didn't know who was louder. I have no answers for why I took off my shirt and spent over ten minutes with him. Even the slow parts like running my hands over his muscles or letting him suck on my fingers were nice.

No, it's better than anything I've felt in my life.

We talked for a short while, and with every secret, my smile dropped.

All his thoughts and opinions were so wrong.

No, it was worse. They were stupid and un-American.

After he stumbled through a story about throwing rotten fruit at police officers, I blinked slowly. "Why were you at an anti-war rally?"

"The hint's in the name. Why were you in a bar?"

"My dad ordered me. He wanted to see if anyone was breaking decency laws." I shrugged. "Then I'd call for a bust."

"Wait! You were there trying to get people like me arrested?"

***

"Wow, really?" asked Kim. "Dude!"

"To be fair, I never did it again."

"Because of me," said Mike.

The ice grew in my tone. "I wouldn't have done it again, no matter what."

"Sure."

"Yes, I am sure."

Kim coughed, using his Omega peacemaker instincts. "Then what happened?"

"Well," said Todd, "to nobody's surprise, Mike and I argued more."

"Because I didn't like him harassing our people."

"Because he decided I lived my life wrong."

"You were."

"And you were so damn smug. I might have listened if you had taken a moment to consider my feelings."

"Whoa," said Kim. "I get it. Then what?"

Mike jerked a thumb at me. "He took me for a ride."

"Oh, not again…"

"In Todd's car , and we took the road not taken."

***