Stranded (2 page)

Naomi was dumbfounded.  “How long ago was this and why didn’t anyone come tell me or why didn’t anyone go to the police?”

“Baby, this just happened today.  And yes we did go to the police.  And yes we did want to tell you but John Hayhurst -- he’s the sheriff and a very good friend of ours -- made us promise not to get involved. But now that you’re here, I’m taking it as a sign from above. So you are not going home.”

“Well I guess it’s a good thing Daryl wouldn’t come and get me.  He’d literally be at my throat,” she joked darkly.

“He wouldn’t come get you?” Foley asked the threat of anger.

“No he would not.  Bought me this car, I drive it for the first time and it dies in the middle of nowhere,” she said.

“My boys can take a look at it in the light of day.  If I find it’s been tampered with, I am going to kill somebody for free,” he promised.

Naomi pulled back feeling very stupid as she mulled over Foley Lardner’s ridiculous story.  Because it started to ring true. In fact she walked backwards through the events of the day.  No wonder her husband wouldn’t come get her.  No wonder the car broke down right where it had.  No wonder he was so finally generous bringing home a car. Generous with her money.  Her husband set her up somehow.

“If it’s all the same um, Foley? I’ll be leaving,” she said and she set her drink down.

“Why?” he asked.  “Where will you go?”

“I am going home, I guess.  I am going to tell him I know what he’s up to.  Then I am going to kick his ass out,” she said. 

“No no,” he assured her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Naomi laughed softly.

“I appreciate your offer of not letting me go and for looking after my car and all.  But  I do have to get. I can’t stay here.  I don’t even know you.  I’m sure I am seven kinds of stupid for being here now,” she said.

“I am not going to hurt you,” he promised.

That wasn’t what she meant exactly.  She was talking more about the incredible attraction she had for him.  He had some kind of unearthly magnetism about him.  Maybe it was drink and the risk and the fact that he was off the hook hot and kind.  He woke something in her that had been fast asleep for a long time.

He continued, “In fact if the cops haven’t been by your place I am sure they’re looking for you.  If I had known you looked like you do, I would have been looking for you myself.”

Flirting made it harder for her to think straight.

“My husband maybe a potentially murdering asshole but fact is I am still married.  I think I better go,” she said.

“Can I at least give you a ride?” he asked, placing his hand on hers. “Not that I think you should be going home.”

“Unbelievable,” she muttered, turning away sharply.

“’Scuze me?” he asked.

“I meant my husband,” she replied.  “

“Oh,” he said with a wink.

He had the most unnerving gleam in his eye.  Smoky.  Alluring.  Seductive. Naomi had to make a conscious effort not to fall for it.

“You promise my husband really asked you to kill me?” she asked.

“He did,” replied Foley.

“And you promise that you alerted the sheriff?” she asked.

“I did,” he replied. “I got him on speed dial.  We can call him and confirm.”

Naomi laughed.  “Everyone has the sheriff on speed dial,” she teased as she slowly headed towards the door. “It’s called 911.”

“I meant his cell phone, silly,” he replied.

“And you promise me you’re safe?” she asked.

“You are,” he said with such sincerity.

“Are you for real?” she asked shyly.

He tilted his head, his eyes took on a smoky gaze.  It was a simple little move that changed the atmosphere completely.  Naomi felt a buzz but not from the drink she was sipping.  It was from him.  Their chemistry.  He definitely moved her.

“Real in what way?” he asked with a soft seduction.

She had no worldly reason to, but she believed him.  It was his damn good looks that made it irresistible for her to not just go along with the situation.  Foley was an absolute picture of physical perfection.  He was just over six feet which was Naomi’s dream height.  Her own husband was about an inch taller than she and she was petite.  Though in fairness, her husband had been a handsome man before he found designer beer. 

Foley was as chiseled as if he were flaked from the mountainside. His face belonged on a cover of a magazine. Yeah he would definitely do, Naomi thought.  He had to know he was gorgeous.  He had to know and was probably working it.  But he was so pretty she was unable to care too much.

“How about we go ahead call the sheriff and he confirms what you just said to me, just like you suggested, I’ll stay,” said Naomi.  “I’ll stay all night if you let me.”

“Baby,” he rasped as he leaned in so that their mouths were but a whisper apart.  “You don’t have to ask twice.”

Chapter Three

“Annabeth, get me John please.  This is Foley Lardner,” he said into his phone.

Annabeth.  Naomi knew some of the names of the people who worked in the sheriff’s department through charity work. This was good news because Foley was more and more becoming the good guy.  And not some bullshit artist.

Naomi particularly enjoyed watching Foley’s body move as he spoke on the telephone.  He was smiling into the air to Annabeth the way he smiled at her here in his home, in person.  It didn’t take but a few sentences for him to arrange a meeting with the sheriff and Naomi to set Naomi’s concerns to rest about the legitimacy of his claim.  That her husband Daryl Pollard wanted her dead.

They stepped back out to the front porch wherever everyone clustered to brief his guests about where they were going.  A few good-hearted guys dispatched to examine Naomi’s car. 

“You have nice friends,” she said spontaneously.

“I do,” Foley agreed without hesitation.

He led her to his bike.  He handed a helmet to her and took one for himself. She watched as he swung his giant magnificent leg over the bike, a sight that made her step back and suck in her breath.  She would replay that one over and over for sure.  She loaded herself on the back timidly. 

Foley corrected her swiftly.  He reached behind himself for her, taking hold of the backs of her knees and pulling her tight against him.  The connection was both physically and personally intimate.  Naomi’s insides waffled with arousal as it rose from deep within her to make her belly flutter.  To make her so empty and aching.   He was bring parts of her to life that she had long neglected.  This man was too hot for words.

The take off on the motorcycle was sensual as well.  She felt an incredible sense of freedom as the bike pulled out of the driveway to the sheriff’s office.  Foley’s house was set on a hill so the rolling down the drive to the main street caused Naomi’s stomach to lurch like she was on a roller coaster.  It was exhilarating. Equal to the thrill of wrapping her arms around Foley’s luscious hard body. He not only felt good but he smelled good and she could swear she could that his scent wafted back to her on the breeze.

She experienced an unexpected sense of freedom slicing through the very quiet streets of Orange. Where before when she was broken down they were scary, suddenly they took on a new beauty.   Naomi had a doubly sudden urgency to confirm the story that her husband was looking to put out a hit on her.  Because she wanted to hit on Foley.

Naomi didn’t know what got into her but she was consumed with animal attraction for this biker.  It was unreal.  But meeting Foley Lardner was the final nail in the coffin of her marriage and riding on the back of the Harley set her free. But she was done.  Done with her husband.  And free to spend the rest of her life, if not the night, however she wanted.

The sheriff’s building wasn’t too far from Foley’s house; nothing was too far from anything in Orange. Foley and Naomi strode into the entry way and were greeted by Annabeth the dispatch.  Soon after, the sheriff John Hayhurst himself appeared easily from the back.  He was a handsome man.  Powerfully built.  He had a pleasant face and an easy voice but Naomi had no doubt if provoked, he could get the job done.

“Well there you are,” said John with just the touch of amusement in his tone.

“Naomi Wellington,” Foley introduced.  “John Hayhurst.  John Hayhurst, Naomi Wellington.”

“How do, ma’am,” he said politely before scolding Foley lightly.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to get involved,” he said.

“I thought you said you were,” Foley replied with a smile.

John shook his head.

“I’ve been by your place.  Did your husband tell you?” he asked Naomi.

“My phone died,” she said casually.

Her choice of words stopped the two men in their tracks.  Things were awkward.

“Well, Foley says you want me to vouch for what he told you,” said John. “All I know is that Foley and his associate came to me immediately with the news and I’ve followed up.”

“I don’t want to go home,” said Naomi.

“We do have a shelter that we can place you at,” said John.

“Not necessary,” said Foley.  “We have plenty of room.  Besides we’re working on her car.”

John suppressed a grin.

“Whatever works for you ma’am.  Let me know what Orange County can do.  In the meantime we are watching him,” said John.

“Watching him?” she asked.

“Well ma’am, yes,” said John with a smile. “I have the word of this fine man. I do have surveillance footage showing an interaction but I don’t have him caught in the act. I can’t very well have you go home if you don’t feel safe but kind of hard to set him up at this point.  I promise you, we are working on it.”

“Thanks,” she said apologetically. “Rough night.”

“I imagine,” said John.  “Okay folks.  I have bad guys to process.  If there’s nothing more? I promise to keep you apprised.  And Foley-”

“Sir,” replied Foley.

“I am serious.  I said to stay out of it.  The investigation I mean,” said John.

“I kept my word  That’s why we came to you,” said Foley very charmingly.

“Got it,” said John with another infectious smile. “But one question?”

“Yes?” Foley responded.

“How did you two just happen to connect? I mean if you stayed out of it and all?” the sheriff  asked and patiently waited.

It was a good question.  Naomi was sure her husband sabotaged the car. It was very remarkable that she just happened to break down within walking distance from the house of the man who supposedly was propositioned to kill her.

Foley was quiet.  He appeared to be searched for a reasonable answer.

“You got me there,” he said thoughtfully.  “I am going to chalk it up to fate and pretty darn good luck.”

John Hayhurst studied Foley, almost suspiciously but he let them go.

Following Foley out of the sheriff’s department into the beautiful summer night, Naomi  wanted to party.  Without warning, Foley turned around suddenly causing her to run smack dab into him.  It was the perfect set up for a hug.  But they weren’t quite there yet.  It did position them for some heavy flirting. 

They stood, body to body wallowing in their own special kind of contact high. The energy flowed between them, and the sparks definitely flew.  Foley with his constant grin on his face was like looking in a mirror.  Because she couldn’t seem to keep from smiling either.

“Are you satisfied?” he asked her about the meeting.

“Not yet but I hope to be,” she replied flirtatiously.

“My goodness,” he replied, pretending to be shocked. “And here I was going to offer you a moonlit ride.”

“I would love that,” she said.

“Really?” he asked.

“I have never ridden on a bike before tonight and already I am in love,” she said.

“Well that is good to know.   Come on,” he said.  “Let’s go.”

He hadn’t kissed her yet, but he was getting awful liberal with his hands.  Very touchy but not in an invasive way, as he guided her around the bike.  Twice now Naomi watched as he swung his magnificent leg over his bike to mount it.

He looked over his shoulder and waited for her.  She daintily put her finger tips on his shoulders and climbed on.  Once again, he drew body her tight against him.  She snaked her arms in around his lean waist and took the liberty of pressing her body against his.

It had been so long since she had known physical affection from a man.  It was almost emotional for her to have this kind of human contact. She took full advantage of it. She savored the scrumptious feeling  of Foley’s body.

It was the most incredible foreplay to ride on the back of the Harley while Foley took them along the whipping, rural curves of Route 29.  The branches of the trees reached across the smooth asphalt, silvered by the moonlight.  Endless rolling antebellum estates and horse farms strung with equestrian fences made the moment rich and romantic. Humidity was light and the wind on them from the bike ride.  It was just perfect.

Foley pulled up the steep rolling drive of Grace Cathedral.  It was spectacular ancient church guarded by huge trees that had the reputation for being haunted.  Its daunting colonial age Gothic architecture and lore lent to the reputation.  It had been dogged by accidents and fire since it was built well before the Revolutionary War.  Rumors were that it was cursed by the slaves forced to build it but not allowed to pray in it.