Page 39 of Brother In Arms

Chapter 12

Bailey

I woke up and it was night, by the sounds of the crickets outside. I sat up and stretched and looked over at the clock. It was just a little after ten P.M., I’d been out for a good long while. I got up and shrugged into my satin robe that I’d carelessly flung over a wingback chair that served more as a decorative accent than any kind of useful in the corner left by the door and armoire. I slipped out into the main living area and had a quick look around.

No one out here…

I tried the front porch next and found Rush sitting at the table, booted feet propped on a chair opposite him, an all-purpose carving knife in one hand and a piece of wood in the other. I watched him for a minute, absorbed in what he was doing as he shaped the chunk of stick in his hand with careful strokes. It wasn’t the best angle, pressed against the screen, so finally, I hit the latch and opened the door so that I could pass through. The screen door mechanism that closed it automatically made a good old fashioned ratcheting creak and he looked up from his work.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hi,” I ventured back. “Can I join you?”

He smiled up at me and said, “It’s your porch, baby.”

“Yes, well, that may be but if you were enjoying the peace and quiet, far be it from me to intrude. Sometimes it’s nice to have some solitude.”

“True, but sometimes you can have too much solitude, too.”

“Fair point,” I said and stepped out onto the porch. I went around to an unoccupied chair and pulled it out, turning it so I could make use of the chair he had his feet propped up on, too. For a full minute I must have stared at our feet taking up space on the same chair. Mine were bare except for the French pedicure on the toes and the backdrop of his well-worn and many times resoled motorcycle boots made me think that it was almost picture perfect. We made an odd pair, it was true, but not for the first time I wondered how and if it might work…

“What’cha thinkin’?” he asked quietly and I turned my head reluctant to pull my gaze from our mismatched feet until the last possible second.

“I was thinking we make an odd sort of pair,” I confessed.

“Surprised at how comfortable it is?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I smiled and nodded.

“Me too.”

“It’s nice, being around someone without any expectations.”

“Oh, I expect things,” he said with a devilish grin.

“Yeah, like what?”

“Sex every day for starters, sometimes more ‘n once a day.”

“Sounds like a real hardship,” I mocked.

“Oh, it’ll be hard alright. It’s just about always hard when I’m around you.” I laughed and he grinned, “Seriously though,” he said, “I don’t know what it is about the last day with you, but it’s been real nice. Thank you for that.”

I blinked, surprised and asked, “Have you had dinner yet?” He shook his head. “Well I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a really shitty couple of days. I think this calls for ice cream.”

“For dinner?”

“Yep.”

“After ten o’clock at night?”

“Yep.”

“Well, alright then.”

I got up and he followed suit, and we went into the house. I went into the kitchen and brought down two rocks glasses and a couple of bowls while he got into the freezer.

“Your taste in ice cream sucks,” he stated and I looked at him like he was crazy.

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