Bitter Root (14 page)

“Hey, don’t do that. Let me go.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve been waiting for just the right moment to
do this.” And with that, she stretched up and kissed Adi. It was a soft kiss,
almost tentative at first, but when Adi didn’t jerk back, Griffith deepened the
kiss. She felt tingling to her toes as Adi parted her lips and allowed access
to her warm, sultry mouth. Every nerve ending fired with the emotions the kiss
stirred in her.
God,
she’s so sweet.

They finally parted, though they stayed close to one another.
Griffith gazed up at Adi, hoping to discern what Adi was feeling.
We definitely have chemistry.
There’s no doubt. Will it go anywhere? Do I want it to? Will Adi be okay with
something simple, temporary, like most of the other women who’ve filtered
through my life?
Except Tabitha. That had been a real mistake.
One that cut so deep
it took a year to get over it.

I can’t
repeat that. I have to keep this simple. Just good, honest fun. She’s never
even been with a woman, with anyone. I’d be her first. Well, I’d make it
memorable. I just have to figure out if that’s what she wants
.

Adi would have to come clean about her past for there to be
something even momentary, though. Griffith would dig up the bones of the story
in Dulac and then it would be up to Adi to own up. She would find out to
protect herself, and her career, but she wouldn’t confront Adi with the truth
if she didn’t need to. She thought about what T had said about hurting Adi with
the past, and she wondered just how important the article was. Maybe it really
could just be about the restaurant and the great food. Adi as a person now was
pretty amazing. There would always be another article to get her career back on
track.
It doesn’t have to
be this one, right?
Adi would have to open up on her own, and
Griffith hoped she would.

“That was nice. Thank you.”

“Thank you, you mean. You’re the one who kissed me, Griffith. I
would’ve never—”

“Never say never, kiddo. I learned that a long time ago. Your
gorgeous lips have been asking me to kiss them. So, I gave in. I’m glad I did.”

“Me too.”

“Oh yeah? So you want to do that again sometime?”

“Sure I do. I want to do that again right now.”

“Ah, ah, ah. Save some for later. It makes it all the better to
savor it. Let’s go see some more of this wonderland. And then you can take me
home. Maybe I’ll let you kiss me good night.”

“Maybe?”

“Well, it all depends on how the rest of the day goes.”

The rest of the day was extraordinary. Griffith marveled at how
easy it was to be with Adi. If she didn’t know better, she would say Adi was
the singularly most open and honest person she had ever encountered.
Unless we’re talking about her
past
. Her ease at describing the island’s features and the candid
expression on her face as she told Griffith about the McIlhenny family legacy
warmed her through and through.

It really felt like a date, like her very first date, actually.
Pins and needles of excitement raced through her, and the casual brush of Adi’s
arm against hers sent a rush of goose bumps down her arm. She felt the easy
laughter and silliness that went with first dates. She felt young, like a kid
again. She felt her jaded, LA exterior flake away with Adi’s gentle banter. She
wanted this feeling to last, to hold on to it. She could tell Adi was feeling
it too.

What a shame that the truth would come calling, exacting its pay
in whatever form it took. Whether Adi was running from abuse or something
worse, she had to know the truth. It was just who she was, and being involved
with someone meant knowing everything about them. Maybe it wasn’t fair; maybe
it was too much for some people. The journalist in her never slept, and once
she had questions, she had to find answers. And if Adi was running from
something, maybe she could help. And that way she’d also know what she was
getting into if they got involved.
Am
I rationalizing?
Griffith struggled against the knowledge that this
blissful moment was a façade. That reality would come knocking, and soon. She
pushed the thought back and walled it off. She would enjoy today and let
tomorrow worry about itself.

When they pulled up in front of Griffith’s hotel, Adi turned off
the truck.

“So? Do I get to kiss you?”

Griffith smiled at the shy way Adi asked. “Yes, please kiss me.”

Adi leaned over and wrapped Griffith in her arms. She put her
cheek against Griffith’s and inhaled deeply. “You smell so good.”

Griffith chuckled. “You mean I smell like sweat and peppers,
right?”

“No, I mean, yes, but you smell like sunshine and rain. You smell
like all the good things. I could breathe you in forever.”

“Adi, that’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“I mean it.”

“Just kiss me, already.”

Adi’s lips touched hers so gently at first that Griffith wanted
to push out and capture them, but she waited, letting Adi set the pace. The
pressure deepened, and she felt Adi tasting her. Griffith parted her lips,
beckoning, and Adi complied. The warmth that washed through Griffith with the
touch of Adi’s tongue on her own was electric. She couldn’t restrain herself
any longer and pulled Adi deeper into her mouth. The kiss went on and on, never
fevered or reckless. Just deeper and deeper until Griffith felt that it would
consume her. She pushed against Adi gently.

They broke apart, both struggling to catch her breath.

“Good night, Adi.”

“Good night.”

Griffith stumbled out of the cab and closed the door behind her.
That kiss had nearly undone her. She walked to the hotel entrance without
looking back. She finally turned as she pulled open the door. Adi’s gaze was so
intense it was as though she could feel her hands sliding over her. She felt
heat race through her as they looked at one another. Adi waved once. Griffith
waved back and entered the hotel.

What am I
doing?

The morning sun streamed in the window of Griffith’s hotel
room. She rolled to her side to avoid the piercing rays. Morning came early
here. In LA, she could easily sleep until ten, her apartment suitably dark
until she chose to open the blinds.
The
light here comes right through the walls
. She could still smell the
faint scent of peppers in her room and smiled, thinking of the day before. She
had really enjoyed spending the day with Adi. And the kisses…oh, the kisses.
They were just about as perfect as kisses could be.

Griffith tensed.
What
are you thinking? This isn’t high school, and Adi isn’t your first girl crush.
Get a grip.
She needed to focus on her reason for being in this
place. It wasn’t to steal kisses and get all hung up on a woman. It was to tell
a damn story.

She sat up and slapped her hands on the mattress.
Snap out of it. Yes, she’s
gorgeous and different from any woman you’ve known. So what? And this place,
it’s like some kind of Neverland, where things drift at the pace of slow-moving
clouds
. Not at all the hectic, busy world Griffith lived in. She
needed to shake off the heavy, hazy state she found herself in and get busy.
She needed to be far more LA, and far less down-home.

She had more than enough to write the article Dawn wanted, and
she knew it would be a hit. Her prospects for her next job were thinner than
spider silk, but she could pick up a lead and find something that would sell.
She needed to get this done and move on. But moving on meant her connection to
Adi would be lost.
What
about the itch Adi’s hidden past has started that won’t stop? Should I follow
my gut and get to the story behind that story? What would that mean for Adi?
Does it matter?
Damn
you, Tabitha. I don’t even trust myself, now. You’ve ruined me.

Her phone rang, pulling her out of her head and into the present.
Who calls someone at the
crack of dawn?

She grabbed at the offending phone, ready to rip the caller a new
one. “Hello?”

“Hi, um, hi,” Adi said.

The irritation slipped away as Adi’s voice soothed her.
She’s so innocent. I wonder if
she’s ever called a woman before?

“Hi, Adi. How’s it going?”

“Good, it’s good. So I was wondering, did you want to go
crawfishing? It’s going to be hot, but not so hot we won’t find some.”

Griffith tensed.
Damn,
should I spend another day with her? Am I getting in too deep? How can I stay
objective if all I really want to do is run my hands down her gorgeous arms and
kiss her? How is this going to help me? Crap
.
To hell with it.
“Sure
I do. What should I wear? And what do I need to bring? I don’t have a fishing
pole.”

“Huh? Oh, no poles are needed. I have traps. You should wear
something you don’t mind getting dirty. And boots if you have them. Something
that can take mud. Sunscreen and bug spray are a must.”

“I don’t have any bug spray. And my boots aren’t really made for
mud.”

“That’s okay. Just wear your oldest clothes. I’ll be there in
half an hour. We want to get out on the paddy before it heats up too much.”

“The paddy?”

“Yeah, the rice paddy. That’s where we catch the crawfish.”

“Okay…”

“Trust me, I’ve been doing this all my life.”

“So half an hour?”

“There about. That going to work for you?”

“Sure…”

“Great, see you soon.”

Crawfishing?
In Maine, they trapped lobsters in little wire or wood cages.
Weren’t crawfish essentially small lobsters?
This isn’t Maine. I’d better do some quick research. The closest I’ve ever been
to catching a lobster is picking out the one I want for dinner in a tank.

Adi had said something the other day about it being messy and her
doing most of the work. She pulled up a webpage dedicated to the craft on her
smartphone. WikiHow showed worms, a pole, and string. Not too difficult, but
Adi said no poles. Then there was a trap that looked like a clothes hamper on
its side. Strange, but okay. The last suggestion was to simply reach into the
water and grab the little buggers as they walked by. None of these looked messy
or difficult, except the hand method.
No
way I’m going to use my hand to catch them.

She headed for the shower.
Get
clean, then, presumably, get dirty.
She relished the effect of the
hot spray on her back. Waking up was always a challenge, but a shower went a
long way toward coherence. And caffeine. Coffee was the next order of business.
The little room pot did nothing for her, but there was a coffee shop in the
lobby. She quickly dried and dressed in her comfy jeans and an old SC
sweatshirt. Pulling on a baseball cap, she made her way to the lobby and the
promise of caffeine. When she met Adi outside, she was surprised by the small trailer
she had attached to the truck. It was carrying a covered vehicle of some sort.
She walked over for a closer look. Adi got out and wrapped her arms around her
from behind. Griffith felt a flash of heat as their skin connected.
How does she do this to me? I’m
not a pushover, and she’s got me all frazzled. It has to be her innocence.
Shake it off.

“What’s that under the tarp?”

“Oh, that’s a four-wheeler. Best way to get to the rice field.
Too muddy for the truck.” Adi kissed the back of her neck and moved away.

Griffith missed the embrace as soon as it was gone.
I wish I’d turned around.
“Muddy?”

“Yep. That’s why they call crawfish mudbugs. They build their
holes in wet mud in the creeks and rice fields. Even in the swamps, but I like
the rice fields best. You can predict the depth of the mud before you step in.”

“So you weren’t kidding when you said this was going to be
messy.”

“Not at all, but it’ll be a mess of fun too. I brought you some
hip waders to keep your feet dry. Are you wearing a belt?”

“No, just my jeans.”

“That’s okay. I have some belts that should work in my kit. Let’s
go.”

They rode down to the rice field, talking about the trip to Avery
Island, but avoiding any talk of the kisses.

When they reached the rice farm, Adi drove right out toward the
field, stopping about a hundred yards away.

“Okay, now the fun begins. Let’s get the bike off the trailer and
load up.”

Adi lowered the ramp while Griffith took the tarp off the
four-wheeler. It was bright blue and larger than Griffith had imagined. There
was a wire and steel tray welded to the front and another in the back. The
saddle area looked like it would hold them both, but it would be a tight fit.
Excellent.

Once Adi had the bike on the ground, she reloaded the ramp and
locked it with a padlock. She tossed Griffith some heavy rubber waders from the
truck bed. “Try these. They look like they’ll fit.”

Griffith looked at the boots with their long rubber legs and the
loop of canvas at the top. She cautiously slid one shoe down into the boot. The
fit was fine, if unusual. She looked over at Adi, who had her own set of waders
on, hooked into a canvas belt slung low around her hips.
Sexy, pure Louisiana swamp goddess
sexy. That’s what she is.
Griffith looked down at her own overly
large boots, sagging around her knees.
I
am so out of my element. I wasn’t designed for this. I must look like a clown.

Adi had a rakish grin on her face and Griffith flushed with
embarrassment.

“Here, catch.” Adi tossed a belt to Griffith. The buckle was just
like a military belt. Adi bent over the tailgate of the truck and tossed things
onto the ground, giving Griffith a perfect view of her sweet round backside.
The humidity level kicked up a notch where Griffith stood.
If this were LA, I’d have you bent
over that tailgate and it wouldn’t be for unloading a damn thing. You have no
clue what you’re doing to me
.