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  “Are you all right, Anita?” Emmet asked her, concern in his voice. She looked as if she were a million miles away.

  Anita blinked and gave him a crooked smile.

  “I’m fine, Emmet. Just fine,” she said.

  They continued eating, each quietly daydreaming about the upcoming weekend.

  It was sure to be something special.

  Chapter 23 ~ Friday Arrives

  By Friday evening, John Bowen was still more than a thousand miles from his daughter. Getting rides had been difficult. He should have showered, shaved and got a haircut before he attempted the journey. But he had been drunk and not in the best state of mind after George dropped him.

  He stood outside the gas station the last driver dropped him off at, then walked inside. It was a mini-mart offering the usual fare of foodstuffs, chips, cigarettes and beer. John looked at the beer case longingly as the young man behind the counter eyed him, his brown eyes raking over his dirty clothing. What a bum.

  “Can I help you?” he asked John curtly.

  “I want to use the restroom,” John replied.

  The young man frowned.

  “The restrooms are for paying customers only,” he informed John. No way was he going to let this guy in his clean bathroom.

  “Fine,” John snarled, picking up a piece of bubble gum from a small bowl and slamming it down on the counter.

  He pulled a nickel out of his pocket and tossed it to the clerk, who had turned quite pale at John’s small but violent action. The young man reached under the counter and handed him the key, which was attached by string to a long, flat piece of wood that had “Men” etched on it.

  “Here you go sir,” the clerk said nervously.

  His hand was shaking.

  John snatched the key out of the clerk’s hand, headed out the door and around the side of the building, his duffel bag hoisted on his shoulder.

  “Little bastard,” he growled as he stuck the key in the door and opened it, flicking on the light. It was a tiled, neat little bathroom, toilet paper on the roll, paper towels in the dispenser and even a large bottle of antibacterial soap on the sink.

  “This’ll do,” John said to himself, setting his duffel bag on the floor and beginning to unbutton his shirt. If he wanted to make it to Anita before the end of next week, he’d have to look more presentable on the road.

  About forty-five minutes later, John Bowen emerged from the men’s room, leaving his discarded clothing stuffed in the garbage can. They were too smelly to put in his duffle bag. The bottle of soap on the sink was significantly lower than when he first entered. But he was clean, dressed in a denim jacket and jeans and his hair was combed.

  He entered the store and brought the key to the clerk, who had been walking outside from time to time and listening at the door to see if John had left. He heard the water running and didn’t dare knock. The guy seemed to have a bad temper.

  The clerk took the key and looked at John. At least he was clean now.

  “A lot of traffic pass by here?” John asked him, scowling.

  “Not a whole lot, but yeah,” the clerk replied as John picked up his gum off the counter, unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth. He looked back over at the beer case again and licked his lips. But he had to hang on to what little money he had.

  Suddenly the door opened and in walked two young ladies, one blonde and one brunette, both wearing rather tight fitting jeans and blouses that showed ample cleavage. They weren’t gorgeous, but not too bad either. They looked to be around twenty-five or so. John Bowen eyed them as they headed directly for the beer case. It was easy to see they had already had a few.

  The blonde plunked a case of Bud Light down on the counter.

  “Ring it up, Bobby,” she said to the clerk, who was staring at her breasts. He smiled at her.

  “All right, Sarah,” he replied, stepping over to the register. The brunette walked up with a bag of potato chips and put them down next to the beer.

  “Add that too,” she said in a slightly slurred voice.

  “Sure, Alicia,” Bobby responded, adding everything up.

  John Bowen exited the store and stood outside studying the vehicle the young women had arrived in. An orange and black 1964 Ford Fairlane. Nice.

  Both women exited the gas station and walked over to the car, Alicia opening the back door and sliding in the case of beer as Sarah walked around it to get in on the driver’s side. John made his move.

  “Um excuse me,” he called to the women. Both looked at him, doors opened.

  “Yeah?” Sarah said, frowning slightly.

  Alicia, on the other hand gave John a rather crooked smile.

  “I wonder if I might ride with you a few miles,” John said, looking as non-imposing as possible.

  “Where you headed?” Alicia asked him. John told her.

  “Whoa, we’re not going that far,” Alicia said as Sarah continued to frown at John, “We’re just going to my house to drink some beers.”

  ”I see,” John said, hoisting his duffel bag on his shoulder, “Thanks anyway.”

  He started walking toward the highway.

  Alicia looked after him for several moments, then at Sarah, who scowled at her.

  “No,” she said.

  “Aw, come on, Sarah. He’s cute,” Alicia pressed.

  “He’s old enough to be your father, Alicia,” Sarah said, shaking her head and getting into the car. Alicia got in on the passenger side. She closed the door as Sarah started up the Fairlane, threw one arm over the seat and looked behind her, backing up.

  “Saaaaaraaaaaah,” Alicia whined as she threw the car into drive.

  “No, Alicia. No more picking up strange guys for quickies. You always do this when you’ve had a few beers,” Sarah said, passing John as she prepared to make a right on to the highway. Alicia turned around and looked back at John.

  “I want him, Sarah. Shit. It will be the last time. I swear it,” she pleaded with her friend.

  Sarah sighed and looked in the rear view. He was older, but yeah…he was kind of cute in a rugged kind of way. She gave in.

  “Fine, Alicia…but this is the last time,” she said, but Alicia was already hanging out of the window, motioning at John to come on. He broke into a trot.

  “Bingo,” he thought as he opened the door, pushed the case over, slung in his duffel bag and got in.

  “Thanks,” he said to Sarah, who snorted.

  “You’re welcome,” Alicia replied, her brown eyes drifting over him slowly.

  John had been around the block a few times. He knew when he was being sized up as a potential fuck.

  “What’s your name?” he asked Alicia.

  “Alicia,” she replied, “What’s yours?”

  “John,” John said, arching an eyebrow at the young woman.

  “Well, John…are you in a hurry to get where you’re going?” she asked him.

  Now John was the one doing the sizing up.

  “It depends,” he replied.

  “Depends on what?” Alicia asked him.

  “Whether or not a delay would be worth it,” he said, meeting her eyes directly.

  Alicia licked her lips.

  “It could be. Feel like coming to my house and helping us with this case?” she asked him.

  John looked over at Sarah, who was looking at him through the rear view as she drove. She didn’t look happy about his being invited over to Alicia’s to join in with the drinking. Hell, he’d wanted a beer.

  “Sure,” he said shortly.

  Alicia gave him a big smile as Sarah rolled her eyes. Damn Alicia’s horny ass. This was the last time she did this for her. Shit, for all they knew John could be a serial killer.

  Sarah slowly leaned forward and felt under the seat for the piece of steel pipe she kept for emergencies. It was there…cold, hard and reassuring. If this John character got out of line, she’d crack his fucking head open.

  “Pass me a beer, would you?” Alicia asked him.
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  John opened the case and passed Alicia a can of beer.

  “Don’t you know drinking and driving is illegal?” he asked Sarah.

  “I’m not drinking now,” she said.

  True, she had a few beers but she could hold them better than Alicia.

  “Besides, Alicia’s daddy is the Sheriff,” Sarah added. “We never get in trouble.”

  John looked at Alicia as she lifted her can toward him in a little toast.

  “Yep. And I’m daddy’s little girl,” she said, bringing the can to her mouth and taking a chug.

  Daddy’s little girl? Hmm.

  John kind of liked the idea of fucking a cop’s daughter. He took out a beer for himself, popped the top and chugged it down in one go. He lowered the can and let out a belch.

  “Excuse me,” he said.

  “Wow,” Alicia said, appreciation in her eyes at his dubious ability, “You certainly can put them away.”

  John gave her a small grin.

  ”I was dying for a beer. Being on the road, you go without a lot of the things you enjoy,” he said, licking his lips as he looked at the brunette. It wasn’t hard to tell what he was referring to.

  “Step on it, Sarah,” Alicia said, never taking her eyes off the man in the backseat.

  Sarah shook her head slightly and stepped on the gas.

  *

  Emmet arrived at Anita’s room promptly at seven, a piping hot pizza topped with sun-dried tomatoes in his hands. Balancing it carefully, he knocked on the door, which immediately opened.

  “Hi Emmet,” Anita said, smiling and kissing him on the mouth lightly.

  Emmet fumbled the pizza a moment, then grinned at her sheepishly.

  “Hi Anita,” he replied, following her in and setting the pizza on the coffee table as she closed the door.

  She was comfortably dressed in a pair of gray cotton sweatpants with a drawstring and a white t-shirt that fit her quite nicely. Her hair was in a ponytail. Emmet couldn’t help but notice how curvaceous she was. At work she always wore a jacket or blazer. He preferred her home wear immensely.

  Anita walked past him and sat down on the couch, patting it so Emmet sat down beside her. She opened the pizza, the aroma filling the room.

  “Mmmm,” she said, taking out a large slice, folding it and biting into it. A long string of cheese led to her mouth as she pulled the slice away. She slurped it into her mouth, clearly enjoying it.

  Emmet took out a slice too, and the pair ate in relative silence…relative because Anita was making all kinds of pleasurable sounds as she ate, Emmet watching her surreptiously. After the first slice, Anita licked her fingers, picked up the remote and turned on the television. Then she picked up another remote and turned on the DVD player. Dragonheart was on disc as well.

  “This is going to be good,” she said to Emmet as the previews came on.

  They both ate another slice of pizza, then settled in to watch the movie. Anita sat very close to Emmet, lifting his arm and placing it around her shoulders and snuggling in. Her hair smelled like flowers, and Emmet spent much of the time sniffing it.

  “You can tell that little bastard is bad already,” Anita said about the young prince as Dennis Quad was giving him early sword lessons. Emmet chuckled.

  After a while it was easy to dislike the young prince, particularly when he ripped the crown out of his dying father’s hands. Still, Emmet couldn’t help but feel a twinge of empathy when he fell into the pike, or whatever it was that pierced his heart when a redheaded peasant girl fell into him. But, like the movie’s namesake he was restored with half a dragon’s heart…which was when the movie really began.

  There was quite a bit of adventure and comedy in the movie. Emmet took a liking to the poem-writing monk. He saw a bit of himself in the friar, particularly when he was in battle. The monk was a natural-born archer, but hedged at the idea of taking lives, so shot the enemy in rather painful but harmless places, enough to put them out of fighting commission.

  When the dragon was killed, Emmet was aware of Anita crying, wiping at her eyes as the dragon transformed into motes of light and flew into the sky to join the other dragons as a star in heaven, forming the constellation of Draco and watching over humanity from above. He couldn’t help but tighten his arm around her.

  “I’m so silly,” she sniffed, “I’ve seen this movie at least fifty times.”

  “No. No, it was really moving,” Emmet said comfortingly, “Draco was a noble animal. It was sad to see him sacrifice himself to save the kingdom. Especially since the knight didn’t want to do it. He was his friend.”

  “That’s what made it so much sadder. He had to do it,” Anita said, sitting up and wiping at her face. She drew in a breath.

  “What a great movie,” she said, “It really was a happy ending…as happy as it could be anyway.”

  Emmet nodded as the end credits rolled over the screen. Anita sat there a moment, then stood up.

  “I’ll be right back, Emmet,” she said.

  “All right,” he replied, watching as she walked into her bedroom.

  Emmet began to feel a little nervous. The movie was over and now it was just he and Anita. He cupped his hand over his mouth and breathed into it to check his breath. It smelled like pizza. Well, Anita liked pizza…so it shouldn’t be a problem. He was glad she liked sun dried tomatoes and not fresh garlic.

  After a few minutes, Anita returned. She looked a bit nervous as she sat down next to Emmet.

  “Are you okay?” Emmet asked her, concerned.

  Anita looked at him, then cleared her throat a little.

  “How okay I am…or will be depends on you, Emmet,” she said softly.

  Emmet looked at her, not comprehending. Anita took a deep breath.

  “I don’t want you to go home,” she said to him.

  “I wasn’t going home yet,” he said, “I want to…to spend some time with you.”

  Anita nodded.

  “I know that, Emmet. I mean I don’t want you to go home at all tonight. I want you to spend the night with me. I’ve been thinking about it all week, and I really, really want to…to…”

  Anita faltered…not because she was shy, but because she wasn’t sure how to tell Emmet she wanted to fuck him without giving him a heart attack…but it was too late.

  Emmet was already hyperventilating.

  “Emmet!” Anita cried as he panted heavily, fighting to catch his breath. “Breathe slow, Emmet…try to breathe slow!”

  She took off his glasses, set them on the coffee table and patted him on the back, not knowing what else to do. Actually she did know what to do, but seeing Emmet like this just made her mind go blank for a moment.

  “A…a…bag!” Emmet gasped at her. He was horribly red from his efforts.

  “A bag?” Anita repeated blankly before what Emmet was asking for sank in, “Oh, a bag!”

  Anita looked around and grabbed the greasy brown bag on the coffee table that contained a few hard leftover breadsticks. She dumped them out and handed Emmet the bag. Still panting, he crushed the bag then put it tightly against his lips and began to breathe in and out, the bag partially filling then collapsing repeatedly as Anita looked on, still rubbing his back and urging him to breathe slowly. Finally after about five minutes, Emmet was able to take the bag away. He looked at Anita.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, “I just…just…”

  ”It’s all right, Emmet. I guess I could have found a better way to ask you than how I did…coming out of the blue like that. I suppose you want to go…” she said, standing up, ready to walk him to the door.

  Emmet hesitated, then caught Anita’s hand and swallowed as he looked up at her.

  “No. No, I don’t want to go, Anita. I want to stay,” he said, his heart pounding in his chest, “I really want to stay.”

  Chapter 24 ~ Into the Bedroom

  Anita looked down at Emmet…at his eyes. He didn’t have on his glasses and his brown eyes were a mixture of sincerity and un
certainty.

  “Emmet,” she said softly, “If you stay, more than likely we’re going to have…sex.”

  Anita winced slightly as she said this, afraid Emmet was going to start hyperventilating again. He didn’t. He just looked at her for a moment.

  “I know,” he said shortly. Emmet felt as if someone were beating on a drum next to his ears. It was a wonder he could hear Anita at all.

  Anita looked at him.

  “Do you think…think you’re ready for this?” she asked him.

  Emmet stood up slowly, not letting go of her hand.

  “Anita, I’ve thought of almost nothing else but you since last weekend. You’re so…so beautiful and you make me feel…”

  Emmet faltered. He didn’t know how to tell Anita he wanted to kiss her and touch her and just lose himself in her until he didn’t know who he was anymore.

  “How do I make you feel, Emmet?” she asked him.

  “You…you make me want to stay the night,” he said lamely.

  The book he had read had suggestions on what to say at moments like this…but Emmet didn’t want to tell Anita things he’d read in a book. He wanted to be honest. He’d just have to wing it and hope he said things she liked to hear.

  Anita smiled at Emmet softly.

  “All right, Emmet,” she said, placing her arms around his neck and drawing him closer. She kissed him gently.

  Emmet’s arms automatically wrapped around her waist. He held Anita lightly, still feeling as if she might break if he embraced her any harder. Her mouth was soft, warm and moist against his own, and the curves of her breasts pressed against his chest combined with the press of her loins against his own made his blood feel as if it were boiling in his veins. Before he could help himself, Emmet slipped his tongue between her lips, wanting to taste her mouth again.

  Anita let out a little moan that shot straight to his groin as she felt him invade her mouth. Emmet wasn’t demanding, but he was insistent, tangling his tongue around hers, then scouring every inch of her mouth, not realizing he was pulling her tighter against him and pressing his swelling organ against her urgently. Emmet was shifting into automatic now, though he had no idea of it. He just wanted to get closer to the woman in his arms and feel her soft body moving against him.