Burning Love (Hell Yeah! Cajun Style), page 3
“Ten thousand?” Beau was flabbergasted. “Why? If it’s all you say it is, I could find you a buyer in a couple of days who would be glad to pay you full price.” Was she that hard up for money? He had no desire to cheat her.
“No, I’m not interested in making a big profit. I just want to get rid of it. So, if you’re interested, it’s yours.”
“Hell yeah, I’m interested.” This was turning out to be his lucky day – in more ways than one. “I’m interested in the gun, but I’m more interested in you.” Beau grinned, he was happy – there was no two ways about it. And he wasn’t shy, so he just decided to lay all of his cards on the table. “You are the most incredible looking woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Behind him, Dandi choked. Crap! He had forgotten about his cousin being in the room. And his little bombshell, Harley – she blushed! Good Lord in Heaven, the little darling blushed!
Digging the keys out of her jeans pocket, Harley held them out to him. “You’ve just bought yourself a .50 caliber machine gun. It’s in the back of my truck. Let’s go get it.” She decided not to comment on Beau’s admission that he found her attractive. It would be better if she just ignored it. Her body seemed to have other ideas, however. Harley felt her nipples puffing up and her pussy began to swell and an unfamiliar ache started deep within her sex. God, she was turned on! A myriad of emotions flooded through her. This type of reaction to a man was unheard of for her. But this was no ordinary man, this was Beau. “Come on.”
She led him outside and Beau had a good time trailing her. Fuck! He couldn’t decide if she looked better coming or going. If he had ever seen a hotter woman, he couldn’t remember it. She walked with confidence, yet sensuality defined every step she took. The sway of her hips mesmerized him and he vowed he would have his hands on that ass before the week was out. Now that he had found this tempting morsel, he wasn’t going to let up until he was pumping between her thighs. Damn! He shifted his package around in his jeans, grateful that she was a couple of steps ahead of him, unaware of his aroused state.
“Here we are.”
Beau looked up. He had been so captivated by Harley; he hadn’t noticed he was in the presence of another beauty. “Wow.” Now, this was a ride! “You drive this?” He loved powerful machinery and the Hummer sitting in his parking lot was the ultimate machine. This wasn’t just an H1 – this was a custom, military-outfitted Humvee – the real deal. It even had the helicopter hook, so it could be picked up and moved through the air to another destination.
“Yeah, I manage to keep it between the ditches.” His skepticism about her choice of a vehicle was something she had heard before, way too many times. Standing back, she watched him open the double doors to the large storage compartment. “Actually, I’ve owned this truck for a couple of years.”
What in the world was all of this? Beau stood at the rear of the Humvee in amazement. “Baby, what kind of work do you do?” He had never seen so much technical looking hardware in one place. The Ma Deuce was there, within easy reaching distance – but it was surrounded by other equally intriguing items. Electronic gadgets and tools were neatly arranged, and he had no idea what they were for. His fingers itched to pull them out and inspect them more closely. “This stuff looks like Radio Shack on steroids!”
Harley laughed. Beau was having a typical male reaction to her chosen mode of transportation. And as far as the explosive ordinance gear – she knew how to be evasive. “I’m a government contractor.”
“That tells me a helluva lot.” Beau realized she didn’t care to elaborate and that was all right – for now. “Man, that’s a pretty lady.” He pulled the machine gun closer to him. “Where did you get this?”
Well, there was no secret there. “I inherited it from my father.” And that was why she didn’t want it. He hadn’t cared anything about her when he was alive and she couldn’t muster up any sympathy for him now that he was dead. In the Navy, Harley had always been surrounded by men. In her line of work, a female was the exception – not the norm. But there had only been a handful of men in her life she had trusted implicitly: Captain Thibodeaux, Admiral Gaines and Beau. She had never trusted her father; Manuel Montoya had rejected her from the moment he laid eyes on her. Being born with a caul over her face had been a sign of the devil to her superstitious parents. Manuel had made it clear to her, in every way possible, that he wanted nothing to do with her. That was the reason he had named her ‘nothing’ - Nada. The only reason she had ended up with the gun and a few other items was because she was his only living relative at the time of his death.
“I can’t wait to try it out.” Beau picked it up. It weighed about a hundred and fifty pounds, but he carried it easily. “All we need to do is get all the transfer papers filled out and I’ll write you a check.”
Harley hurried ahead of him and opened the door. Dandi was there, anxiously waiting to admire Beau’s newest acquisition. Clearly, she was as taken with it as he was. He carried it into his office, a large adjoining room that was crowded with stacks and piles of books and papers; there was barely room to walk. Organized chaos – she was fascinated to see this side of Beau. There was so much she didn’t know about him and she was hungry to know it all.
While they were inspecting the Ma Deuce, Harley watched him. He was so good-looking. There hadn’t been anyone in her memory with a body better than his, and she had worked with the best – Navy Seals, Black Ops. Beau’s shoulders were so wide; she would love to stand close to him on tiptoe and see how far her arms would go around him. Despite her problems, she could still appreciate male beauty. So she stole a few glances at him. When she heard a throat clear, she realized Dandi was watching her. Hastily, she tried to at least pretend to study the papers in her hand. How unprofessional could she get? “I think this will do for the .308. I like the way it looks.” Glancing at the clock on the wall, she saw it was time for her to leave for the doctor’s office. Lord, she dreaded this visit. “Look, I’ve got to go. Why don’t I come back later in the week and we can get things settled with both transactions?”
“Wait,” Beau stood up, there was no way he was letting her leave without a little more information – like when she was going to go out with him. “Where do you live?” He hadn’t recognized the street name when he reviewed the firearm transfer papers. “I could drop off your check tonight and get your signature on the bill of sale and we could iron out the reaper conversion details. I need to get some measurements – make sure we get the stock the right length.” He started to ask the identity of the lucky man she was giving the gun to – but one thing at a time.
Beau wanted to come to her house? Harley didn’t know if this visit was such a good idea. The more she thought about it, the more she was questioning the wisdom of spending a lot of time with him. To her surprise, she was feeling urges she thought were long dead, and with her history – that couldn’t be good. Still, he was looking at her with such heat; all she wanted to do was draw closer – like a moth to a flame. “That sounds okay. I just moved into Willowbend.” She was about to tell him where it was located, but his knowing chuckle stopped her. “What?”
“So, you’re the one who moved into the old Sonnier place. I wondered about that. You do know it’s haunted, don’t you?”
“Well, I do now.” Her tone was chastising. She couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I could have done without that particular piece of knowledge, thank you. Now, I’ll jump at every creak and groan the old house makes.” She might be brave when faced with a live bomb, but ghosts and snakes were another matter entirely. Stepping backwards, Harley tripped over a pile of gun manuals. If Beau hadn’t reached out to grab her, she would have fallen.
“I’ve got you,” Beau caught her and hugged her close, glad for the opportunity to get his hands on her. He swayed a little bit – just enjoying how she felt in his arms. God, nothing had ever felt so right. The only thing that could be better would be to have his cock buried balls deep inside her sweet body – now that was a dream worth having. “Ah, Love – I’ll protect you from the boogeyman. Just wait until you hear the loup garou howl deep in the night as he slinks through the swamp hunting his prey.” He was teasing her now, and loving every minute of it. Thank God, Dandi had showed enough manners to leave them alone. It was time to make his move.
Harley’s whole body went on alert. She hadn’t been this close to a man – not willingly – in a long time. An overwhelming urge to pull away assaulted her. But she didn’t want to make a scene. Calling upon all of the inner strength she had, Harley pretended to be normal. “Stop that,” she playfully punched him on the shoulder. “You’ll have me too scared to sleep there alone at night.”
Before he could talk himself out of it, Beau did what he had wanted to do since the moment he saw her. He kissed her. Oh, not on the lips, like he longed to do – but tenderly on each eyelid and at the corner of her captivating mouth. “That’s the idea, Love. That’s the idea.”
Chapter Two
Yuck! Harley hated going to the doctor, especially to the gynecologist. Even though she owned Socorro, she had to abide by the insurance carrier’s rules. Lying on this cold hard table, Harley thought she would rather be anywhere but here. But, at least Dr. Young met her main requirement – she was female. The room smelled of antiseptic and it was painted a pleasant shade of pastel yellow. Overhead, the fluorescent lights buzzed monotonously. When the door suddenly opened, Harley almost jumped out of her skin. Damn! What was wrong with her? Harley had faced enemy combatants and dangerous situations and today she had been more of a wuss than she could ever remember being. First, she had thoroughly chickened out around Beau. Looking back, she realized she should have been straight with him from the very start. What difference did it make? They were childhood friends – well, not even that. Their paths had crossed thirteen years ago; she would be lucky if he even remembered her. He was a grown man now, that period of his life was probably nothing more than an unpleasant memory.
And he had kissed her. She couldn’t forget that. She would never forget that, or her response. Beau had probably kissed hundreds of girls, but she bet that was the first time one had reacted like a frightened deer. In her mind’s eye, she relived the embarrassing moment. He had been holding her and for a second, it had been glorious. She had wanted to feel his lips on hers. The kiss they shared at Brownwood had always been the one memory in her life she could cherish. Now, she had ruined that memory. Because this time, Harley had pulled away. Closing her eyes, she tried to forget the confused look on Beau’s face.
“Well, hello.” The door opened and a woman came in. The tag on her white coat identified her as the physician. Dr. Young came to her left side and slid a stool up so she could talk. She had a pleasant smile. They were probably about the same age. “I see from your chart that you are here for the full workup – pap smear, mammogram, and a general check-up.” The other woman was so calm and friendly that she put Harley at ease.
“Yes, I put off going to the doctor until the last minute, I’m afraid.”
“Why is that?” She moved to the end of the table. “Put your feet in the stirrups and let’s see what we’ve got here.”
Could there be more unpleasant words than ‘put your feet in the stirrups’? Harley followed the doctor’s directions and opened herself up. She felt so vulnerable. Even though the gynecologist was a woman, she couldn’t be still. At the first touch of her gloved hand – Harley jerked. “Are my hands cold?”
“No,” Harley answered in a small voice. “I just don’t like this, I’m sorry.”
Dr. Young made a sympathetic noise. “Some women are a bit nervous about having another woman touch them intimately. Remember, I’m your doctor. I only want what’s best for you.” Harley steeled herself as the doctor opened her wider and inserted the mirrored probe into her vagina. “Do you need to get your birth control pills refilled?”
Harley had been biting her lip so hard, she was sure she had brought blood. “I’m not on birth control pills.”
“Why not? I see in your folder that your cycle is not always regular and that you suffer from severe cramps. Birth control pills are the best answer for those problems. Besides, a woman that is sexually active needs the protection – unless you are anxious to get pregnant.” Harley felt the doctor insert a swab, getting a sample for the pap smear.
“I’m not sexually active.” Foot! She hadn’t intended for this to turn into confession time.
The doctor said nothing for a few moments. Then, she scooted her stool back. “Sit up, Nada.”
The name startled Harley. She didn’t think of herself by that name very often. But obviously the doctor would use her legal name. “If you think I need birth control pills, I’ll take them.” That should stem any awkward discussions. But it didn’t. The doctor was too astute, by far.
“Yes, I think you should be on the pill. I’ll write you a prescription. When was the last time you had sex? And I’m asking this because you are obviously nervous – you are so tense that I’m afraid you might break. Is there something you need to tell me? I’m a good listener, you know.”
Harley took her feet out of the hated stirrups and sat up, tucking the paper gown around her thighs and crossing her ankles. She felt exposed and vulnerable. How could a person who faced death on a regular basis be so cowardly? “My sex life has been a disaster. Being intimate with a man just doesn’t work for me. I’ve been raped twice and the consensual encounters I attempted were complete failures.”
The silence in the room was overwhelming. Harley hung her head in shame.
“Hey,” the doctor spoke in a gentle, but firm tone. “Look at me.” When Harley complied, she saw only sympathy and understanding. “Have you been to counseling?”
“No, I was too ashamed.” She knew how stupid that sounded. Harley wasn’t dumb. Her IQ was exceptional; she was a college graduate and a decorated war hero. Still, when it came to sex – she was handicapped.
“Nada, I don’t really know your circumstances, but there is no need for a woman as beautiful as you to throw her intimate life away just because of a tragedy. Don’t give the idiots who abused you that much power.” Dr. Young laid her instruments and her chart aside. “Would you go to a sex therapist if I arranged it?”
“What?” Harley was totally shocked. “She had been expecting the doctor to suggest a psychiatrist, maybe, but not a sex therapist. “I don’t think so.”
Dr. Young stood. “Let me get a nurse in here and get your mammogram and then meet me in my office and we’ll discuss this further.” After she left the room, another woman came in and Harley followed her instructions and moved over to the torture device that would squeeze her breasts and tell her what she already knew, she was cancer free.
Harley was psychic – to a degree, sometimes she just knew things. She didn’t read people’s thoughts, thank goodness. But she picked up impressions from objects. This gift came in handy in bomb disposal. Sometimes she would know the feelings of the bomber – at times she had been able to give her superiors insight into their motive. Her gift had kept her alive more than once. But it had also been a burden. Harley’s ability had stolen her family. They just couldn’t handle her ‘knowing’ things. And when she was small, she hadn’t learned how to hide that knowledge. She had blurted things out and her father had hated her for it. That was why she had left her home and Beaumont when she turned thirteen and taken to the streets, ending up in New Orleans and finally in Brownwood – where she had met Beau.
After enduring the mammogram, Harley dressed and was led down the hall to where Dr. Young sat at a desk, typing on a laptop. “So, what are we going to do with you?”
If the doctor hadn’t been so sincere, Harley would have been offended. She didn’t want anything ‘done’ to her. She was satisfied with her life. Wasn’t she? Looking back at the day and the incredible sexual feelings Beau had awakened in her – and her miserable reaction to him - she wondered if it was time to face her demons. “I don’t know. What are my options?” Memories of Jed Martin came to mind. Harley had tried with him, she had really tried. They had met at a BBQ at Mariner’s Park celebrating Asian-Pacific Heritage month. He had been very sweet and had talked her into joining him at a picnic table and later for a walk. One thing had led to another and Harley had agreed to go out on a date with him. He wasn’t a big man, so his closeness didn’t resurrect the shameful flashbacks like what had happened with Beau today. Jed had been non-threatening and she had thought that just maybe he would be the one to coax her back into the world of sex.
After a couple of dates, he had made a move to take the next step. It had all started out well enough, but she had been hesitant and he had been shy and when he had asked her what the problem was – she had made the mistake of telling him the truth. Never, as long as she lived, would she forget the look of disgust that had come over his blandly handsome face. He had backed up from her like she had the plague and said, “I don’t think I can be with a woman who’s been raped.” His reaction had been a shock to her, but she had hoped he would be an exception, not the rule.
A few months later she had developed a relationship with another man. Sonny Garrison had been a breath of fresh air. He had hailed from Houston, so they had a lot of things to talk about. Both were Astros fans and had swam in the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico. They had shared memories of the State Fair and the Big Thicket Natural Preserve, but when he had coaxed her into an embrace, everything had fallen apart. She had resisted, he had asked questions and she had blurted out the ugly facts. His words and reaction had been so close to Jed’s it made her think they were reading from a script. That was when Harley realized that what had happened to her had affected much more than her own body – it would affect how any other man would ever feel about her.
