Page 14 of Rest In Pink

“They run a single rope around some trees in a big circle. Students stand at it with a small piece of rope and tie knots.”

“And the whole time you thought about this?”

“Pretty much,” I said, concentrating on the problem at hand.

“You didn’t know me then.”

“It was theoretical.”

The problem was the old rope that held up the swing hanging from the oak tree on the river bank. It was proving difficult to untie from the eye bolt in one side of the board. I should have prepared this beforehand, but what with Thacker in town, George’s ass in the wringer, and being promoted, I’d had a busy day. And really? A knot? If necessary, that rope was going to die by the blade.

I reached to my side and pulled my Leatherman out of the case on my belt and used the point of the blade to get leverage, a last chance before I cut it.

“I hear mosquitos,” Liz said.

“Too early in the season,” I replied as I pressed the point into the knot.

“You’ve never been in Ohio in the spring,” Liz pointed out. “How do you know?”

“I had a meeting with the head mosquito,” I said. “Told him we’d be hitting the mattresses, and not in the way you like, if any of his goons got between me and my dame tonight. War to the death.”

“Going to shoot them all?” my dame asked.

The rope loosened. “I’m an expert marksman.”

“Did you know Cincinnati ranks number twenty-five on the top fifty mosquito-infested cities in the country?”

I paused. “You googled it?”

“Once you mentioned this, I wanted to be prepared. Be careful where you lick, I’m covered in DDT.”

Of course she googled it. But I don’t think she was really prepared for what I had in mind.

I pulled the rope apart and put the Leatherman back in the case. I turned to Liz triumphantly, holding the loose end of the rope, which was looped over a branch fifteen feet above our heads. I crooked my finger. “Come hither, dollface.”

Liz licked her lips and did what I said. I slid the loose end through the cuffs, between her hands and body. Then I slowly pulled it upward, raising her hands. While staring into her eyes. She didn’t blink.

We had a safe word, of course. Liz had insisted it be something neither of us could inadvertently scream in the throes of passion. She picked “Gladiola” just to annoy me. My jeep is a Gladiator and . . . never mind, you had to be there. I’d told her no and changed it to “Lug Nuts.” She said, “No,” but I figure that just means we now have two safe words.

We’re flexible like that.

I brought the rope up over her head, lifting her arms. Not too far, but enough that she had very little wiggle room and couldn’t get away from me. While still looking in her eyes, I blindly tied a taut hitch, using both my hands. As I did so, my body pressed up against hers. She wasn’t wearing anything under the sundress and I’d taken my shirt off. All that time in the rope corral at Camp Darby proved worth it as I cinched the knot tight.

She made a little sound, like a quiet breathy “oh,” but moaned. It’s been my favorite sound for about five weeks now.

“You sure about this?” I asked.

She nodded even though she had no idea what was next. “Oh, yes.”

I smiled and knelt in front of her. I lifted her sundress up.

“I thought—” she began but I hushed her, my mouth against her warm stomach. I slid my tongue down along her flesh and found what I’d been thinking about all afternoon.

And then she started making that little moaningohsound again, and I stopped thinking.

Chapter Seven

Twenty minutes later, I was cradled in Vince’s arms, damp and breathing hard and gloriously naked as we stretched out on a thick blanket on the riverbank. The blanket was Army green, of course, but the important part was that it was thick. The man was always prepared.

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