Bird After Bird Page 9
I attached the leash he should have been wearing all along to his collar, and then fastened it to a hook in the bed of the truck. He did what wet dogs do—shaking all over, christening me with his muddy thanks.
I went back to the edge of the marsh and wrapped the towel around Wren’s shoulders. “Smart of you to strip before you dipped,” she said, shielding her eyes with her palm against the bright sun.
“You’re not mad?” I offered her a hand to help her up.
“I’m not thrilled, but I’ll get over it. Not the first time I’ve taken an unplanned dip after a rare bird. I’ve got a blanket in the back of my car and an extra pair of jeans. How’s the heater in that old pick up of yours?”
I reached down and got my clothes. “It’s not bad.”
Maybe I haven’t blown this after all, I thought. I liked the way she was looking at me, but I still wanted to get my clothes on before I froze off anything important.
“Go start your truck,” she said. “I’ll meet you there in a minute.”
I was freezing and covered in mud, but I don’t think I’d ever smiled so hard. Not for a long time. By the time Wren opened the passenger side of the truck and climbed in, I was wound tighter than an eight-day clock.
She put her dry jeans on the back of the seat and pushed the blanket between us. “Do you mind if I dry my shirt on the dash? I’ll have to take it off.”
I covered my eyes. “I promise I won’t look. But won’t someone see you?”
“This place is going to be deserted the rest of the day.”
“Oh.”
“And who says I mind if you look?”
She pulled her top off, and for a moment I couldn’t do anything but take in her beautiful breasts, creamy white with tiny orange freckles scattered across them like the speckled shell of an egg. She wriggled out of her wet jeans and reached out for the dash of my truck, cranking the heat until hot air blew to her satisfaction. Her legs and feet were beautiful, her knees a study in fine sculpture. I felt myself fighting the desire to touch her, to stroke her, to feel every bit of her against my body.
“Aren’t you going to get dressed?” she said, pointing to the pile of dry clothing stacked on my dashboard.
“Um…yeah, I guess…unless you want to wear my shirt.” I handed it to her, and her hand closed over mine again. She pulled me toward her, into a kiss.
I felt her damp chest against my own, and a tide of emotions rise in me.
“Oh, Wren,” I moaned, pulling away for air before I did something I’d regret.
She laughed and slipped on the tee.
For a moment I didn’t know who I was. I wanted to push her back, cradling her body in my arms so I could climb on top of her, kiss her until she was as crazy as I was, until our two bodies formed a jumble of lust and longing. All I could think about was touching her, having her—but I wanted more. In that instant I knew it, and it took my breath away.
I put my jeans on, a little embarrassed to wriggle into them in front of her.
She reached for the dashboard heater switch. “Wow. Got hot in here real fast,” she whispered, shutting off the fan. For a moment we sat in silence, and I checked on Hap in the rearview to make sure he was okay. He napped in the sunny bed of the truck, oblivious.
She’d brought a bottle of water in her purse when she hopped in the truck, and retrieved it now from the floorboards. I missed her proximity already.
I didn’t know what to say. I was so far off the map, thrown and a little lost by the depth of emotion I felt for her.
She twisted the lid off and had a sip.
“I want to sketch you, Wren. Would you mind?”
Her eyes lit up, and she finished her sip before offering me the bottle. “Draw me like one of your French girls.”
I laughed, my voice sounding so raspy I hardly recognized it. I wasn’t sure I’d recognize my own reflection. I felt like a different man, or a better version of myself. I liked it.
“Seriously, though, maybe another time. You hungry? I know a great pizza place.” She wriggled into her dry jeans.
“No shirt, no shoes, no service,” I said, gesturing to my bare chest.
“Hrm. Want to do a little birding while my tee dries? Then I can give you yours back and we can get that pizza.” She reached up to feel her shirt on the dash, rearranging it a little.
“Absolutely.” I started the truck, and Hap jumped to his feet in the bed, wagging his tail. “Where to, Madame?”
She gestured with her now-empty water bottle down the gravel lane. “This way about a mile on the right.” She dropped the bottle and wrapped herself in the blanket. “You ever seen a Snowy Owl?”
Chapter Nineteen
Wren
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about jumping him right there at Goose Pond. I could have straddled him, teased him, driven him crazy, rocked his world before we went our separate ways.
It’s supposed to be okay to do stuff like that, as long as you’re “safe.” I’m on the pill and have never had sex without a condom, but that doesn’t mean casual sex is always safe.
It wasn’t that I thought Laurie was dangerous—not in a stalker/killer kind of way. He seemed strong in that lanky/wiry guy sort of way, but he didn’t give off a dangerous vibe. Not at all.
I wasn’t all that worried about being discovered at the Fish & Wildlife Area, either. It’s barely patrolled.
No, something inside told me to wait. I’d rushed into sex in my last few relationships, and although I hadn’t necessarily been hurt, I’d become more entangled with the men than I’d liked. Sex has a way of making men more territorial and women more needy. I could manage my end of the teeter-totter, but Laurie was so nice…I didn’t want to hurt him. I wasn’t totally sure I could live with myself if I did.
I loved his body, but I wanted to know his heart. The heart that smiled at me through those gorgeous eyes.
Laurie put the truck into gear and we rolled at a snail’s pace down the gravel road. The Fish and Wildlife Area is massive, and a magnet for migratory birds of many, many species. As we rolled, I called out what I saw.
“Red-tail hawk over here,” I said, pointing to the low-diving raptor on the right. It flew parallel to the truck before extending its talons to attack its prey.
Laurie smiled. I gazed for a long moment at his profile as he drove. I knew he was handsome when we’d first met, but now…
“What’s that one?” he asked, pointing to the left. “The big brown one?”
The unmistakable movement of an enormous pair of wings had caught his eye. The nest was well-known to regional birders.
“That, my friend, is a juvenile bald eagle. That’s kind of a popular nest.”
He pulled to a stop. “For real?” He rolled his window down, and I leaned in to show him the nest and get a better look at which eagle family members were nearby.
He was warm now, and the feeling of his bare chest against my arm sent a shock of sensation through me. I wanted to kiss his warm earthy skin. I rested my cheek against his bare shoulder.
“See the nest up there?” I pointed to the treetops, where a basket of branches as big as an upturned Volkswagen housed the eagles and their offspring. “That’s the nest. And that’s a great spot for a beginner.” I patted his leg as I resumed my place.
He scoffed. “Who says I’m a beginner?”
“Well, you said you didn’t know much about birds, so…”
“Correction, Ms. Carolina Wren. I said I don’t know much about water fowl.”
I had to laugh. “I stand corrected, Mr…”
And that’s when I realized I couldn’t remember his last name. I knew he had told me. Where did it go? It would come to me any second!
His face fell. Then he stared straight ahead and whispered something.
“What’s that?” I said, afraid to ask too loudly.
“Bird,” he said. At least that’s what I thought he said.
I looked to the right. “Oh, the S
nowy? It’s up on the right a bit further. At least, that’s where it’s been hanging out. There are scads of them up in Chicago, all around the lake. This is the biggest irruption we’ve had in years, honestly—“
He cut me off, taking my hand. I had no idea what he was about to say.
“Wren Riley,” he said, speaking softly, a playful look in his eyes. “Of all the names to slip your mind. I can’t believe it.”
I was mortified. I felt horrible. Was I blushing? “I’m sorry.”
He started to open his mouth, then he closed it again. Why was he being so weird about his name?
Finally, he pulled his wallet off the dash, flipped it open, and pulled out his driver’s license. He handed it to me.
“I want you to say it, so I know you’ll never forget. I want to hear you say my name.”
I felt my face heat up. I was blushing for sure. He wasn’t picking on me too much for not remembering his name, was he? Why was he being such a…
Then I read it.
“Laurence Byrd,” I said.
“What’s that?”
“Laurie Byrd. Byrd, like a bird, like a birdy birdy bird.”
He took his license back, put it away, and patted me on the leg. “Great spot for a beginner,” he said, winking as he put the truck into gear.
Chapter Twenty
Laurie
We found the Snowy, and I wanted to pull out my book and sketch it, but I didn’t want Wren to think I was showing off.
She got out her phone and snapped a pic. “A little blurry, but not bad,” she said, showing me her handiwork. She leaned into me then, and surprised me by taking a selfie of the two of us. “Hrm. Do you ever smile?”
“Not since before Basic.”
She hit the delete button and leaned into me again. This time, I felt her fingers poking me in the side, so I managed a grin. “Better,” she said.
“Sorry. They threatened us in the military that they’d beat us if we smiled in our photos, and I guess I haven’t really learned to let that go.” I stopped short of telling her that Sylvia and my mother had griped at me for the same reason.
“You never smile in any of your photos,” Sylvia had written.
“We’re at war,” I’d replied. “It’s not a lot of fun.”
“Smile if you love me,” she’d said, and then…
Wren took off her shirt—my shirt, and handed it to me. She slipped into her own, now dry, asking something about food.
“What’s that?”
“So, you want to get some pizza? I know a great place, and I don’t think they’ll mind too much if we smell like the marsh.” Wren was giving me that dazzling smile and I decided to stay in the here and now, not lose myself to memories.
“Never say no to pizza.” I slipped my shirt back on and asked, “Mind if we get it to go? I don’t want to leave Hap in the back of the truck for very long.”
“No problem,” she said. “I love indoor picnics.”
“Point me to the pizza house, milady.”
Wren gave me directions, dressing as we drove. She pulled a zippered pouch from her purse and did her makeup in the mirror of a compact.
Not that she needed it. Still, I liked that she felt comfortable enough to put on lipstick in front of me. It felt like being privy to a secret.
“So, you were in the military?”
“That surprises you?”
“Well, I guess it explains the haircut.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I got used to having it short. It was really long in high school. Curly.”
“I bet that was hot,” she said.
I smiled, feeling myself blush.
“So…a soldier, a mechanic, and an artist. You’re kind of a renaissance man, Laurie Byrd.”
I felt embarrassed for a moment, and as we pulled into the parking lot of the pizza place, I realized why. “Look, Wren, I’m sorry about the first time we met.”
“Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for?”
“You reached for one of my paintings and I over-reacted. I’ve been too guarded about my work. It was silly of me to stop you from looking. Can you forgive me?”
I parked the truck in the only empty spot in the lot, and waited for her answer.
“Oh, I don’t know, Laurie,” she said, her expression. “If ripping my clothes off in your truck and kissing you in a public park isn’t the first sign I’ve forgiven you, I don’t know what is.”
“Mmm, maybe I’ll stiff you with the check next.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, flashing those flirty eyes at me again.
I shrugged.
“Only because the punishment is so very, very sweet.” I leaned forward and touched her cheek, and pulled her into a kiss. She tasted and smelled terrific, muddy lake or no muddy lake. I felt something inside me letting go as I held her tighter, kissing her. I started to slip my hands beneath her shirt, and she moaned when my fingers touched her skin.
“WOOOOO, BABY!”
I looked up, and some woman was giving us the fist pump, laughing and cheering. She was joined by a taller gentleman in field dress, with a pair of binoculars around his neck. “Get ‘im, girl!” Her voice could have shouted down a foghorn.
“Friends of yours?”
Wren laughed. “Yeah. Sure are. C’mon, and I’ll introduce you to Rhoda and her husband.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Wren
Janice called while I was driving back to Chicago.
“What up, girlfriend?”
“Oh, just driving.”
“You did the bird thing today?”
I thought about Laurie. I thought about telling Janice that I almost did the Byrd, but I knew she wouldn’t get it and I wasn’t sure I was ready to talk about this guy yet.
“Totally did the bird, baby. Those birds got diddly doodly done, honey.”
She cracked up. “God, I’m going to miss you when I move.”
“Did you set a date?”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m calling. The board asked me to go ahead and start this week, so I was hoping you could swing by the house tonight for a little going-away shindig.”
“A shindig? When do you know me to ever pass up a shindig?”
“Never! I knew I could count on you, Birdy.”
Birdy. Byrd. Could it be the same guy? My mind probed to make the connection between the artful letters I’d found and the man with a similar name. The artist with the kind eyes.
“You still there, Birdy?” Janice asked.
“Yeah, I’m still here…sorry…just something on my mind, I guess.”
“What’s his name?”
“Who said anything about a he?”
Janice laughed, but her tone was more caring then mocking. “For real, Birdy, what’s his name.”
I sighed. “Laurence.”
She cracked up. “Oh no you didn’t! You didn’t meet a man named Laurence in the middle of the swamp! I swear to God, there ought to be a mandatory chaperone for you every time you leave the city! You come back talking with a twang and hooking up with farmers, I might not even help you find a job in the Big Apple, you hear me?”
I laughed. “I hear ya, girl. I guess I’ll let you go.” I started to reach for the “end” button on my phone, but Janice was still talking.
“Don’t you dare hang up on me, Wren. Tell me about this Laurence guy. Is he a farmer? Did I offend you—oh my God, he is! He’s a farmer!”
Her panic was hilarious. “Janice, Janice! No! He’s not a farmer. And he doesn’t go by Laurence. He goes by Laurie, like the character in—“
“Like Laurie in Little Women?”
“Yeah.”
Janice took a deep breath. “Wait. That’s the guy you texted me a photo of a few weeks back. You saw him again?”
“I did, Jan. And I think there’s something there.”
“Is he really a farmer?”
I laughed. “No. He’s an artist—and a mechanic. And an Army vet, I guess.”
“Shut the front door, Birdy. He sounds hotter than hell. Is he tall?”
“Over six foot.”
“Is he one of those guys who does the push-ups and sit-ups and all that stuff to keep in shape?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t ask! He’s built like a soldier, though, so I guess that’s possible.”
“Stop it! Next time text me a pic of his six pack, girl. Is he nice, or is he one of those small town cocky jocks you dated in high school?” Count on Janice to remember every sordid detail from our freshman year gab sessions in the dorm.
“He seems really nice, actually. He was training a puppy.”
“Fuck me,” Janice said. “Did you pack his shit?”
“Excuse me?”
“I assume you are moving the boy to Chicago to be your permanent in-house love machine, right? Because he sounds about as perfect a man as you’re ever going to find.”
“You think?”
“I think I’ve never heard you talk about a man this way. Usually you rattle off their attributes like you’re fixing to fricassee the poor sons of bitches. God help the poor bastard you ever fall in love with.”
“I’m not sure how to take that,” I said, a little hurt.
Janice laughed. “I just mean you’ve kissed enough frogs, sweetie. That’s all. You’re due to meet a prince.”
“Maybe I’m tired of princes.”
“I don’t mean corporate princes, Wren.”
“Don’t you don’t think I should marry Troy Parker and be the next dynamic duo to reign terror over Chicagoland?”
This time Janice’s laugh was a combination of amusement and sadness. “You’re gonna do who and what you want, Wren, ain’t nobody ever been able to stop ya and nobody better ever try. You’ve got great things in your future, I’ve always known that. The only question is, who do you want? If it’s Tee-roy, it’s Tee-roy and I’ll totally support ya—you know I will. But I think we both know you’ve just been toying with him until you find something better. And maybe you have, you know?”