Only Heaven Knows (Hell Yeah!) Read online

  “Yes, you did. A full quarter of an inch. Now, how about we go a little further. Hands tight on the wheel and ease your foot off the brake slowly.”

  Suddenly, Bryn’s excitement was replaced by uncertainty and doubt began to creep in.

  “Are we gonna go today?” Denver asked after watching her hesitate for a few moments.

  Bryn checked her mirrors once, twice, and then a third time. “Are you sure nobody is coming?”

  “Miss Bryn, this road has very little traffic. We could sit here all day and I’d be surprised if we saw a mule pulling a cart go by, let alone traffic.”

  Another mirror check was called for. “Okay. Here I go.”

  Letting her foot off the brake slowly, the truck began to move forward.

  “Good. Good. Just take it slow and when you’re comfortable, give it a little gas.”

  She did exactly as he said and when she felt comfortable, Bryn pushed down on the gas with considerable force and the truck took off, nearly lifting the front tires off the ground in the process.

  “Sweet Jesus!” Denver was instantly pinned back against his seat.

  In the panic of the moment, Bryn hammered the gas pedal even harder, burying the needle and they were off.

  “Brake!” Denver shouted as they careened toward the side of the road.

  Bryn went over what he had said in her head. “Left stop. Right go.”

  Lifting her foot off the gas, she brought it down hard on the brake and Denver slid forward, bracing for impact with a hand on the dash. “Sweet Jesus!” he repeated, feeling the crunch of his wrist as it bent backwards.

  “Oh, my goodness, Denver! Are you okay?” She looked on as the hunk beside her tried to right himself.

  “Brake!” Denver hollered again when Bryn lost focus and lifted her foot off the pedal. Again, he was jarred forward when she stomped on the brake one more time. “Could you please do me a favor, darlin’? Could you put the truck in park for a second?”

  Bryn scrambled to put the gear in P then took her hands off the wheel and sat back in her seat cringing. “I’m so sorry.” She watched Denver get out of the truck. “Denver. I am so, so, so sorry.” She raced around the front of the pickup to his side.

  Bent at the waist, Denver was clutching his damaged wrist with his other hand. “It’s okay. It’s my fault.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  Straightening himself out, Denver turned his back, so she wouldn’t see the grimace on his face. “It’s an old injury. I just aggravated it. It’s not your fault.” His wrist felt like a hive of bees was buzzing under the skin.

  Bryn felt terrible. When he turned around to face her, he tried to mask the pain with a smile, but she could still see it.

  “Let’s try again, shall we?” Denver said.

  “Let me see.” Going to him, Bryn reached her hand out and Denver gave his willingly.

  “See? I’m okay.” He let her touch it, fighting back the anguish when she moved it slightly. “It always hurts when I bang it or jam it.” Denver could tell she felt awful and he didn’t want her to feel even worse. “I bumped it the other day. That’s probably when it happened. Just re-aggravated it a bit, is all. I’m fine.”

  Bryn wrapped her tiny hands around his big wrist. “Your skin feels warm. Let me hold it still for a moment. This might help.” Concentrating her focus, she kept her face as neutral as could be, her mind dwelling on his pain. She didn’t do anything like this very often, Sister Mary Estelle had warned her how dangerous it could be.

  People won’t understand and if word ever gets out what you can do, you’ll never be able to do anything else.

  She understood what the Sister tried to teach her – but this was different – this was Denver. Giving his wrist another soft rub with the palm of her hand, she asked, “Is that better?”

  He lied, it still stung like hell, but Denver wasn’t going to admit it. “Yea, it is, actually.” He flexed it and covered the pain the movement caused. “So? Shall we try again?”

  Her enthusiasm for the moment had waned a bit, but Bryn was still eager to get back behind the wheel. “Are you sure?”

  Denver was already pulling open the passenger’s side door with his uninjured hand. “Do you know what you did wrong back there?”

  “I hit the gas too hard?”

  “Yes, and the brake too hard.”

  Bryn’s smile was now totally gone.

  “You’re brand new, Bryn. It was a reasonable mistake, baby. Don’t beat yourself up over it. Okay? I probably did the same thing my first time and so have millions of other people. Don’t get so down on yourself. Like anything, it takes practice. There’s a lot going on and all at once. Driving well takes time, but I know you can do it. So, let’s saddle up and try again.”

  “I’m sorry,” Bryn reasserted when she was behind the wheel again and buckled in.

  This time Denver fastened his seatbelt. “Don’t worry about it. Now, whenever you’re ready, pull us out.”

  Bryn was laser locked on what she was doing this time. She went through her list of things to remember, there was no way she would make the same mistake twice. Slipping the truck into gear, she let off the brake and when the truck started to move, she gently put her foot on the gas.

  “I’m doing it, Denver! I’m driving!”

  Denver was grinning from ear to ear. He had to reach out once to make sure she was pointed in the right direction, but Bryn took to driving quickly and they eased down the road at a comfortable pace until she wanted to pull over and turn around.

  By this time, the pain in Denver’s wrist was completely gone. The relief didn’t register with him until Bryn asked if they could turn the radio on while she drove.

  “Sure. A little background noise never hurts.” Denver stuck out his injured hand and flipped on the radio. His confidence in Bryn’s driving was growing by leaps and bounds. He even felt comfortable enough to suggest she drive them to her place.

  Pulling the truck into her driveway, Bryn was beside herself with excitement. “I just drove myself home.” She put the vehicle in park and turned to Denver. “Oh, thank you, Denver. You have made me the happiest girl in the world.” To heck with what people might think about her exuberant gratitude. Scooching across the seat, she locked her arms around his shoulders and gave him the biggest hug she could manage.

  “You did good,” Denver told her when she pulled back. Looking right at her lips, he wanted to kiss her so badly he ached. Only the memory of her rejection kept him from trying again this soon. He didn’t need a gratitude kiss, he ached for her to need him as much as he wanted her.

  Bryn froze, thinking he might kiss her. Hoping he might kiss her. When the moment passed, and he didn’t, she was filled with disappointment.

  When he began to speak, she trembled a little.

  “I was thinking I could come replace a few boards on your porch one night soon. Would that be okay?”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to take advantage of our friendship.”

  He opened his door and climbed from the truck, coming around to help her out. Putting his arm around he, he walked her to her door. “I’m doing these things for me, Bryn. I worry about you. I lay in bed at night thinking you might step through your porch and twist your ankle or something.”

  Bryn flew back into his arms. “You are so incredible, Denver Bolden. The day I met you was the best day of my life.”

  Denver cradled her to him, trying to calm his body. He wanted her so much. “You’re welcome, love.”

  When she stepped out of his arms this time, Denver took his leave, promising to call her when he could finalize their plans.

  “See you soon.” She waved a goodbye.

  Once he was in his truck, he lifted a hand in farewell. “See you later, little girl,” he said, watching her reflection in the rearview mirror until he could see her no more. “You’re gonna be the death of me yet,” he whispered as he rubbed a hand over the rock-hard erection in his jeans.

  *
* *

  Sitting on the floor by the bookcase, Bryn ran a dust cloth over the leather binding of a thick book. Sister Mary Estelle’s brother, the last person who lived here, seemed to have loved books. There was a wide array of titles in his library. This one was A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. She’d also dusted Mark Twain’s Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. Next in line was Earnest Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea. “I’ve always intended to read the classics,” she mumbled, thinking how her only reading material before had been the Bible and the various writings of the saints.

  After running the cloth down the side of the case, her eye landed on one book that looked a bit different from the rest. “Oh, my goodness, gracious, chicken-n-gravy,” she whispered as she pulled a large paperback from the shelf. “Uncle Sanford, you’ve been holding out on me.” With wide eyes and an open mouth, she lifted the front cover of The Joy of Sex. “Mercy, mercy, mercy,” she chanted as she looked at several photographs. The models were a very handsome man and a beautiful woman. At first, the photos showed the couple fully clothed, then they quickly graduated to depictions of them kissing with clothes unbuttoned. Bryn licked her lips as she turned the page, seeing the man kissing the woman’s breasts, then kissing her belly. With shaking hands, Bryn turned the book sideways, as if the photograph would reveal more if she faced the book a certain way. “Oh, bless me, Father,” she mumbled after turning the page and finding another picture of the same couple with the man on top between the woman’s legs, the man’s face was contorted with some deep emotion. Bryn looked all around her, feeling immensely guilty about what she was seeing – but she couldn’t look away. The next picture wasn’t so different from the last, except the woman’s head was thrown back and the look on her face was not one that could be mistaken for anything other than pure ecstasy.

  Bryn’s whole body jerked as she tried to imagine what wondrous pleasure the woman was feeling to put such a look on her face. With trembling fingers, she turned the page to find the heading Gourmet Lovemaking.

  Slam!

  Bryn shut the book, fully expecting it to burst into flames.

  She had no idea such a book existed. With great trepidation, she leafed through the pages again, not stopping on any one, just verifying that there were many more pictures and most of the models were very naked and they were doing things that Bryn hadn’t even imagined people would do.

  But like opening Pandora’s box, she couldn’t un-see any of it. “Oh, Bryn, Bryn, Bryn…” She giggled. “I don’t think you’ll be reading the classics anytime soon.”

  Unbidden, she thought of Denver. Did he know these things? Had he done these things? Her cheeks grew so hot, she placed her palms on them both to hide their blazing color. Did he want to do these things with her?

  Just the thought made her feel…different. She felt warm all over. Parts of her were fizzing like a carbonated beverage. Deep inside her core, Bryn felt an odd vacancy, like something was missing, something she craved. She felt an urgent ache to do something… Bryn rolled to her back and ran her hands over her body, not knowing how to stop this strange hunger. To her embarrassment, Bryn felt the need to touch herself. She let her hand glide down to her waist, then lower…

  Ring! Ring!

  As if caught with her hand in the cookie jar, Bryn jumped up and tossed the large book on the floor. She grabbed her phone and pressed the Accept button. “Hello?”

  “Bryn, Bryn Harmon?”

  “Yes, this is Bryn.” Her heart was pounding, and her mouth was dry. She didn’t recognize the woman’s voice. “May I help you?”

  “This is Tricia Yeager. I got your phone number from Avery McCoy. She said her husband Isaac spoke to you about your need for employment.”

  “Yes.” Bryn took a deep breath. “I’m looking for a job.”

  “Good. Avery and I own a flower shop called Tricia’s Treasures. It’s downtown, on Main Street. At the moment, we’re looking for a temporary employee. Although, I can tell you the hours will probably be longer than usual for a temp job. I’m in a bit of a bind right now.”

  “I’m interested. I can start whenever you say.”

  “Well, we’re closed tomorrow. Do you think you could come in the next day…at eight in the morning?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I can teach you everything you need to know.”

  “Thank you.” Bryn sent up a little prayer. “I’ll work hard, I promise.”

  “Good. I look forward to meeting you, Bryn.”

  As soon as the call ended she squealed and jumped up and down. She was jumping and carrying on so much, it was a few seconds before she realized the phone was ringing again. This time, the screen announced the caller.

  Bryn hit the button. “Denver! I got a job! I got a job!”

  Denver smiled. “I heard. I gave your number to Isaac this morning to give to Avery. Congratulations!”

  “Tricia Yeager called me. I start the day after tomorrow! I’m so excited!”

  He laughed. “I can tell. Will it be okay if I bring over a load of lumber and some take-out after work?”

  “Yes, please. Come, but don’t bring the take-out. I’ll cook!”

  Her voice was so full of happiness that Denver ached with the need to hold her. “Okay, sweetness, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Once he hung up, Bryn danced around the room, thrilled and relieved. “Things are looking up for me!”

  Once she calmed, she picked up The Joy of Sex and solemnly walked it to her bedside table. “I have some reading to do.” If she was going to live in this new world, she wanted to understand it. There were some things she’d never have, things she couldn’t have – like a family or a marriage. Those things weren’t possible because of her gift…or her curse, she wasn’t sure what to call it. Sister Mary Estelle had always taught her to protect other people from the knowledge. For her to bear it was one thing, to burden someone else with her secret was another thing entirely.

  But…just because she wasn’t allowed to feast at the banquet table of marital bliss, didn’t mean she couldn’t read the menu. She hungered to know the mysteries of what she’d only heard in whispers before. And who knows? One day, she might get a chance to try a sample.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “I made lemonade and ice tea. Would you like some?” Bryn knelt next to Denver as he hammered the last nail into the top board of her new steps. “This is so nice. I won’t have to be careful anymore.”

  “Oh, yea, you should always be careful.” He wiped his forearm across his brow. “Lemonade sounds good. I’m pretty warm.”

  He might be warm, but he looked hot. A very good kind of hot. Just as she’d envisioned yesterday, he was shirtless and sweating, his muscles rippling, his skin glistening. Bryn was finding it hard to breathe. “Let me pour us a glass, I’m feeling a bit faint myself.” Her malady wasn’t from the sun, she was overheating from pure excitement. After reading that book until all hours last night, she now knew what all the fuss was about. Sex was a big deal. And the sexy man sitting in front of her represented all her fantasies rolled into one. Jumping to her feet, she ran to a table near the front door. “I appreciate you doing this so much, Denver. I just can’t thank you enough.”

  He laid down his hammer and pushed his hat back on his head. The work might be tiring, but the reward was well worth the trouble. He was enjoying spending a few hours with Bryn. They’d celebrated her good news over dinner. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and chocolate cake. Now, she was floating around him like a butterfly, lighting here and there. Every move was graceful. At times, it seemed like she was dancing to the laid-back music of the country station that played softly in the background. “I told you before, just knowing you’re safe will be thanks enough.” He patted the floor next to him. “Come sit by me.”

  She brought two tall glasses filled to the brim with icy, sweet liquid. He took them from her until she could sit down next to him, then he handed one back. He waited until she took a sip, just so
he could see her lick the residue from her lip. “What?” she asked, noticing his scrutiny.

  “Nothing, I just like looking at you. You’re pretty.” He smiled when she blushed. “This world is so messed up. How can you be so unspoiled and sweet?”

  Bryn closed her eyes, her lashes fanning out on her smooth cheeks. “I’m not. I don’t know.” She felt flustered. “I’ve just tried to grow where I was planted.” Bryn repeated a phrase she’d once heard in a Bible class. Growing flustered, she gazed around at the repaired porch. “You’ve done a lot. There’s not much left to do. I’ll help you finish. I’ll bring the boards to you and hold them while you saw and hammer.”

  “You’re a good helper,” he told her. “The best I’ve ever had.”

  “Really?” The simple compliment made her happy.

  While they were quenching their thirst, the music took center stage until a voice broke through. “Next up, we have a song dedication to Rose Ellen Morris from the man who wants her to say yes. This is from Rodney, Rose Ellen, Heaven by Kane Brown.”

  “What does it mean when they do that?” She pointed to the radio.

  “It’s a romantic gesture, I guess you could call it. In this case, Rodney is hoping Rose Ellen is listening to the radio. I think he’s probably asked her to marry him and he’s waiting for her answer. This is probably their special song.”

  “Oh, how lovely.”

  Denver watched her face go all dreamy as they listened to the country ballad about a man who was convinced heaven couldn’t be sweeter than having the woman he loved in his arms.

  Bryn sat back on her heels and swayed to the music. “I don’t know how heaven could be better than this,” she whispered, repeating the sentiment of the chorus. “What could be better than being with you on a night like tonight?” Spreading her arms out wide, she stared out into the early evening sky as if she wanted to hug the moon. “I’m so happy, Denver. I didn’t ever think I could be this happy.”