Hi everyone! Based on the feedback I received it sounds like my little homage to that final scene in "Flame Red" was appreciated. I'm so glad! This chapter picks up right where the last one left off, then continues with a step towards an actual (gasp) plot! Shocking development, I know.
Chapter 8
She closed her eyes lazily, conscious only of the feeling of his cool mouth on hers and the sound of the rain pounding on the roof of the car. It was a gentle kiss at first, seeking yet reverent, confident but cautious at the same time. After a few moments she felt his body weight shift slightly as he reached his hand up to stroke her cheek with the tips of his fingers before they found their way along the edge of her jaw line, cradling the side of her face with his wet hand. Soon she was vaguely aware of his fingers threading into the soaked strands of her hair at the back of her neck as he deepened their kiss, his tongue gently coaxing her lips open, a sudden warmth suffusing her entire body.
They broke apart a few seconds later, her lungs screaming for air, probably the result of their recent sprint through the rain, not to mention the minute or so they had just spent depriving themselves of much needed oxygen. Their eyes remained locked as they gasped lightly for breath, their faces mere inches apart. In the relative darkness of car the she had a hard time reading the expression on his face and she moved back just enough to see his darkened eyes, the sea green irises all but vanished and the faint, gentle smile that played at his lips. His hand was still stroking the crook of her neck softy and his feather-light touch sent shivers tingling down her spine.
"I've imagined kissing you ever since I first saw you," he spoke first, his voice surprisingly tender.
"Oh, yeah?" she replied, grinning. "Why didn't you?" she asked, her voice soft but her usual droll manner rising to the surface, still very much intact despite what they had just done.
"Well, if I recall our first meeting correctly, you were giving me a hard time about sleeping in late and not getting to your café in time to claim a blueberry muffin."
She began to roll her eyes, but he didn't let up. "Then the next time we talked you were too busy calling me out as a fraud and a crook in front of your friend; that didn't really seem like the opportune time then, either," he smirked.
"Hush!" She smacked him lightly on the arm, and he quickly reached up and grasped her hand, holding it in his own then placing it between his two palms. She shivered suddenly, the coldness of her soaked clothing finally registering with her over-sensitized skin.
"You're freezing," he observed with a sympathetic smile, rubbing her hand between his two.
"Aren't you?" she asked.
"Meh, a little," he conceded, then added reluctantly, "We should probably get going."
She nodded simply as he released her hand, and with clumsy fingers she found and placed her key into the ignition.
The drive to the campground passed without much talking, the deafening rain making any kind of intimate conversation next to impossible. She noticed him glancing over at her from time to time during the brief ride, and had it not been for the torrential downpour she was navigating, she would've attempted to meet his eyes more frequently. Or perhaps not- behind the wheel of a moving car she wasn't so sure she'd be able to keep them on the road safely under the intensity of his gaze.
She turned down the long gravel driveway, following his directions until they reached the small dove gray cottage near the water's edge.
"This is where you live?" she asked, admiring the small building with shake siding and a lit porch light that cast a warm, welcoming glow onto the front of the house.
"Ah, no, that's Sam and Pete's place. I bunk out here," he answered, pointing towards the large vehicle parked a few yards away from the building. Teresa looked over and eyed what to her resembled an oversized silver bucket on wheels.
"An RV?" she questioned dumbly, then suddenly chiding herself silently, realizing how rude she probably sounded.
"It's an Airstream, actually," he replied with a hint of pride in his voice, undeterred by her less than enthusiastic response to it.
He breathed in deeply and paused, "Well, I suppose this is goodnight, then… I'll see you tomorrow, I hope?"
"Yeah," she nodded and smiled back.
He reached over and gave her a slow but chaste kiss, which just like the ones earlier she felt all the way down to her toes.
"Goodnight," he said quietly after they broke apart and he placed his hand on the door preparing to leave.
"Oh, and don't forget to set aside that muffin for me in the morning," he added cheekily before exiting the car and sprinting back out into the storm.
xxxxxx
The next morning Teresa arrived at the café just after five, grateful to have the first few hours alone as she began prepping for the day. She went through the usual series of rote tasks she did every morning: finishing mixing and placing the first batches of pastries into the ovens; brewing vats of coffee; and setting up the bussing stations and dining area. But inevitably her mind kept returning to those heady, intense moments she and Jane had spent together just twelve hours earlier and the quiet, sweet ones that had followed. She felt decidedly thrown off-balance by what had happened (the intoxicating thrill of mind-blowing first kisses tend to do that, she thought to herself), but she was still determined to remain clear-minded and levelheaded.
Grace arrived right before their seven o'clock opening time and just as Teresa had expected, she immediately began bombarding her with questions, eager to find out exactly what had taken place between her friend and the handsome blonde after she had left. Of course Teresa was reluctant to go into too much detail; despite how close she and Grace were, it simply wasn't in her reserved nature to do so. But she knew that denials or remaining tight-lipped would not pacify Grace's over-the-top exuberance. So she gave her the Cliffs notes version of events- how she had offered him a ride home, they shared a kiss and a few heated moments in her car, and that was it- no big deal.
Grace was positively giddy at the news. "I knew it!" she practically squealed. "I knew from the first day he came in here this would happen."
"Stop," Teresa shook her head in an exasperated manner, picking up a pair of tongs from the counter and beginning to place items into the empty glass display case.
"No, I mean it… And I'm happy for you. You deserve to have a little romance in your life."
"Well, I hate to burst your bubble, Grace, but I wouldn't go out shopping for some hideous pink bridesmaid dress quite yet, alright?" Teresa began sarcastically. "Whatever this is that's going on between Jane and me, it isn't going anywhere. It can't go anywhere."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because," she replied with absolute finality and certainty in her voice. "In a few months I'll be going back to Portland, and he'll be… god knows where. It's just like summer camp."
"Summer camp?" Grace asked dubiously, raising her eyebrows.
"Yeah," Teresa began, leaning up against the counter. "You know, when you're a kid and you go away to camp, and you become best friends with your bunkmate on the very first day and spend all your time together. Then at the end of summer you promise you're going to stay in touch and write each other every week… but then what happens? You go back to school, back to your regular life, your regular friends, and you never hear from that person again."
Grace frowned, furrowing her brow. "So, you're saying that Jane is the romantic equivalent of a doomed summer camp friendship?"
Teresa nodded firmly. "Yes."
"Nope. Not buying it," Grace countered swiftly. "You can downplay this as much as you want, Teresa, but you never know what could happen. I think you should keep an open mind about him."
Lisbon knew there was no dissuading her friend of her romantic sensibilities; all she could do was shake her head and resume the work in front of her.
A few minutes later after they had unlocked the door to open for business, Rigsby entered the shop. The tall firefighter greeted them both with a friendly hello and smiled sweetly at Grace, handing her his travel mug which she began filling with his favorite dark roast. Teresa grinned at the sight of the two of them gazing at one another from either side of the counter. Despite her pragmatic attitude when it came to her own love life, these two, who had only been dating for a few months now, were pretty adorable to watch. Sweet, but not sickeningly so.
A playful smirk spread across Rigsby's face as he leaned over the counter to address Teresa. "So… Lisbon, I hear your hot date with the psychic got rained out last night. Sorry to hear that."
Lisbon cast a withering look over at Grace, who shrugged apologetically before a snort of laughter escaped her lips.
"Oh, you're funny. Double act, huh?" she shot back at both of them. Grace and Rigsby exchanged a glance, trying their best to quell their amused giggles. They could both see that Teresa was starting to get a little annoyed.
"See this is what I miss about dating in the city," Lisbon began petulantly. "There, if I wanted to go out with some wildly inappropriate guy, I could, and no one would have to know about it. Here, I give someone a ride home and all of a sudden I'm having a torrid affair."
"I didn't say it was torrid," Rigsby replied defensively, backing away from her slightly. He then looked sideways over at Grace and asked in a low, conspiring tone, "Is it torrid?"
"Stop it, both of you!" Teresa ordered, through an irritated laugh of her own. She heard the bell on the front door ring and looked up to see young Wylie strolling in. Thank god, she thought sardonically, now maybe these two goofballs will give it a rest already.
"Well, I gotta take off, babe. I'll see you later," Rigbsy said to Grace, grabbing his coffee and giving her a quick peck on the cheek. He then turned to Teresa and offered her a sheepish smile and waved goodbye before departing. "Bye, Lisbon."
"Bye, Wayne," she responded dryly.
Wylie came around the corner and tucked his bag onto the shelf under the register. He leaned up against the counter near the two women and looked back and forth between them awkwardly several times with wide, curious eyes. "So…" he began in a chipper, yet cautious voice, "what are you all talking about?"
xxxxxxx
What a difference a day makes, Jane thought to himself as he walked along the highway heading into Cannon River later that morning. Just a few hours earlier everything around him had been enveloped in torrential rain and wind, nearly beaten down and destroyed by the ferocity of the storm, the likes of which he had never seen. And now? Everything was fragrant and renewed, seemingly unscathed by the events of the night before, save for a few stray tree branches and leaves strewn on the side of the road. The sun was certainly shining down on him now, he thought with a satisfied smile, both literally and figuratively. He picked up the pace of his walking, eager to reach town and see the woman who had been occupying his thoughts most intensely since the moment he had woken up this morning.
He had meant what he told her the evening before; as corny as it might have sounded, the kiss they had finally shared had been hanging between the two of them since the day he walked into her café two weeks ago. Now that they had crossed this threshold of sorts, he could barely contain his excitement at the prospect of what might come next. For the guy who always had a plan in the works, he didn't really have one here. This wasn't some carefully orchestrated seduction he was carrying out (although he had certainly had more than his fair share of those over the years). This felt vastly different, for reasons he couldn't quite put his finger on.
He entered the café, but was immediately deflated at what he saw, or rather, didn't see. Grace and the young man he had met yesterday were working behind the counter, but Lisbon was nowhere in sight.
"'Morning, Jane!" Grace greeted him cheerfully then frowned slightly, reading the look of thinly veiled disappointment on his face. "She's not here right now. She had to make a quick run up to Freeport this morning to pick up some things, but she'll be back in a hour or so."
"Thank you, Grace," he replied kindly, erasing the unhappy expression from his face. He approached the counter and took out his wallet. "I'll have a cup of your chai tea, please." He peered into the bakery case, expecting yet another disappointment, but was pleasantly surprised to see that his long-coveted blueberry muffin was actually there. "And I'll take one of the blueberry muffins as well," he added brightly. "I'm amazed you actually have them."
"Yeah, she made a bunch more than usual this morning," Grace responded with a shrug, clearly oblivious to what Jane saw as a significant and sweet gesture on Lisbon's part.
After he had paid her, he collected his tea and muffin and made a beeline for the comfy leather sofa in the corner. His first appointment of the day wasn't due for another half hour, so he settled in to enjoy his breakfast in the quiet of the nearly deserted café, which seemed to be experiencing a brief lull between its breakfast and lunchtime crowds.
A few minutes later, though, he saw a smartly dressed, middle-aged woman enter the shop. She had shoulder length reddish-brown hair and a weary, almost melancholy look about her, which he noticed her immediately mask with a cheerful-looking smile as soon as she caught sight of Grace behind the counter. His curiosity piqued, Jane subtly began watching and eavesdropping on the two women's conversation as he sipped his tea and ate his breakfast
"May! Oh, when did you get back?" Grace smiled affectionately at the woman and quickly made her way around the counter. The two embraced warmly.
"Just now, actually," the woman answered back as the two of them broke apart. "Thank you for looking after the house for me. Everything looks great."
"Oh, no problem; it was my pleasure. How was Seattle?" Grace asked as they seated themselves at a nearby table.
"Well, it's always wonderful to see my sister and spend time with her family, but… I couldn't avoid things here forever, you know? I woke up early this morning and just knew it was time to come home," she replied, her voice sounding tired and anxious.
Grace nodded in apparent understanding and reached out to touch May's hand.
"Can I get you some coffee or something to eat?" Grace offered.
"No, sweety, I'm fine," May answered as she stood up to leave. "I actually have to get going- I need to go to the market and restock the fridge, run a few errands around town. But I'll be in here Friday morning for my usual 'coffee club' with the girls from the neighborhood."
"Alright. I'll see you then," Grace replied as her friend turned and left. She sighed and frowned slightly.
A few minutes later Jane approached the counter where Grace was busy wiping down the espresso machine. "How was everything?" she asked when she saw him walking towards her, taking his empty cup and plate from him and placing them in a bin below.
"Lovely, thank you," he answered, then waited a beat. "So, who was the woman you were just talking to? I don't think I've seen her around."
"Oh, that's May Nelson, the friend I mentioned yesterday. She's been out of town a little while."
"Hmm. She seemed… sad to me. Like she's experienced a great loss recently," Jane replied solemnly.
Grace's eyes widened slightly and she nodded. "Yes. Her son, Matthew- he died last summer. He was surfing with some of his friends down at the cove and he drowned."
"That's terrible," Jane replied with genuine feeling in his voice.
"Yeah, it's been really tough on May. Matthew was her only child; she raised him on her own. And she was so proud of him, too. He was all set to start college in the fall. He was going to the University of Oregon, on a full-ride track scholarship."
"You knew him well," Jane stated plainly. The anguish in Grace's voice was unmistakable.
Grace nodded wordlessly, her eyes becoming glassy. "Yeah. I used to baby-sit Matty when he was little… Wow, I can't believe it's coming up on a year already. It happened last June, but it seems like just yesterday."
Grace paused thoughtfully, as if an idea was suddenly dawning on her. "You know, I should introduce you to May the next time she comes in."
"Oh, why's that?" Jane asked, even though he already knew exactly where Grace was going with her train of thought.
"Well, until a few months ago, there was a woman in town, Kristina Frye. She's a psychic… I'm sure you've heard about her from some of your customers. Anyway, I know that May met with her a few times, and it really seemed to give her some comfort, some solace. Maybe you could help to her, too."
"You think I would be able to help your friend?" Jane asked somewhat skeptically. He was a little surprised to hear Grace proposing this idea. After all, she had been sitting right there the other day when Teresa had read him the riot act and exposed him and his cold-reading techniques right in front of her.
Grace seemed to sense what Jane was thinking. "Listen, Patrick. I could see what Teresa was pointing out about you the other day- the little tricks you use and the way you read peoples tells. I'm sure that is a big part of what you do…"
"But?"
"But I also saw more than that," Grace continued firmly and leaned in closer. "Kristina once told me that people who have a gift for this kind of thing often don't want to recognize it as such; but that it is a gift and anyone who has these abilities has an obligation to help people around them. Deep down, I think that's part of who you are and why you do what you do."
Jane paused a second before responding. Her determination to think the best of him was genuinely touching, if completely undeserved. It would probably break her heart a bit if she knew who he really was. "Well, I appreciate you thinking so well of me, Grace."
She smiled sincerely before straightening up to her full height. A group of customers who needed her attention had just walked in, so he stepped out of the way, gave her a quick nod goodbye and exited the shop.
As he walked across the street he contemplated all that had just transpired and what he wanted to do about it. Within just a few seconds of observing and listening to May Nelson, before Grace had even filled him in on her background and recent tragedy, he had immediately recognized her for who she was to him.
A mark.
The potential "big fish" mark he had been waiting for, with deep pockets and a vulnerable frame of mind that made her ripe for the taking. The way she dressed and the expensive handbag she carried indicated she was at least moderately well off. And when Grace mentioned the upcoming anniversary of the son's death, Jane knew that the prime window of opportunity for him to reel her in was fast approaching. Many years in the business had taught him that birthdays and anniversaries were always the hardest for people who had lost loved ones; if ever someone was going to seek out the services of a psychic, that was the time they'd do it.
But, instead of feeling that immediate, almost giddy rush of excitement he normally felt at a moment like this, Jane was instead filled with unease, an overwhelming feeling of dread. His time-honed instincts had certainly kicked in the moment he saw May, that's for sure. But his next immediate response was how. How on earth was he going to proceed with this opportunity that was practically gift-wrapped and placed in his lap? Would he proceed?
What the hell was he going to do?
Feedback in any form (questions, comments, predictions, etc.) is appreciated! Thanks for reading!
