Brown Eyes in the Storm

** ** ** ** ** ** **

"Hey, John?"

The gentle hand on my shoulder woke me more than my name. Blinking, I looked up at Wendy. She was in her pajamas. Tobias was sitting on the back of the couch, between her and me, looked down at me as if he had never seen anyone fall asleep on the couch watching hurricane coverage on the Weather Channel. I sat up slowly, feeling those too many hours on the bike in my leg muscles and back.

"Come to bed, John. I change the sheet in the spare bedroom." She gave me a smile. "Come on, don't worry, the news won't change before tomorrow afternoon."

Getting up with several groans I saw her sympathetic smile and then she was taking my arm and leading me, despite the fact that I knew the way. She leaned her head into my shoulder all the way down the hall and then stopped us at the door to the spare bedroom. Wendy looked up at me and reached up to brush my hair back from my eyes. "You really need a haircut now. You never got one since April, did you? Yeah." She sighed. "I might have to move back north just to see to it you get a decent meal and taken to a barber every once in a blue moon. You need to find you a wife already; you're twenty what? Two or three?"

"Still twenty-two." I bit my bottom lip in the corner. "Same as you."

She chuckled, that deep chuckle that I had long liked to hear. "You must have fallen off you bike and hit your head. I promise no matter how young Jason may like his women, I was not two when Martin was born! My Ex maybe pushing pedophile status with this latest girl he's dating, but ... well he wasn't like that back then. Besides, I was pretty enough for him back then. He didn't mind a wrinkle or two."

At the sad look that passed over her face, and then her down-turned chin that took her dark eyes from me, I felt a wedge of compassion-pain lodge in my throat. Wendy had always been such a wonderful woman to her husband. I had watched her worship that man as if he walked on white roses, in golden gowns of silk, handing out miracles. And then she had treated their only son the same way and where was she? Deserted by them both. Alone down here on the coast to face a fucking hurricane! Alone!

Alone, but for ... me. Just me. Fuck it!

My hand was in the tight tangle of grey and blonde hair, at the base of her neck, turning her startled face up towards me even as my lips touched her. Those brown eyes were wide and so close they looked like one as I kissed her. But then my eyes were closed and I pulled her closer to me. Her hands were on my chest for a moment, palms-flat pushing, but then that push faded and she began to kiss me back. Hesitantly at first, but then with a warming desire to be kissed. A desire I met, matched, and then raised to higher levels. My hand caught her hip and I pulled her tight into me. Her breasts, free of a bra under a thin layer of flannel pajamas, were pressed into my chest. Twin soft points of warmth. She gave a low moan when my fingers spread across part of her ass. For a half--second she pulled me closer, mashing my growing hard on in against her belly, gripping me fiercely tight. But then she paused and took a quick step back, out my arms.

"John ... ah ... goodnight, John." Wendy fled down the hall to her room and closed the door. Gave me a quick look as it was closing, yes, but left me standing there looking at a closed door none the less.

Licking my lips I tasted again her lips. I took a deep breath, let it out and took another one. As I walked into the spare bedroom and stripped off my leather pants I could not be sure if I had done a bad thing or not. While it had been rash, impulsive, and partially driven by the fear of what was coming, I can't say it had the feel of a mistake. Not to me.

Not yet anyway.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

The sound of light rain on my window woke me. Then a light knock on the door made sure of it.

"Yes?"

"Can I come in?" asked Wendy through the door.

"Sure."

Sitting up, I lifted myself till my back was against the bed's headboard and made sure the soft, white sheet was across my waist. The door opened and Wendy made her hesitant way into the bedroom.

"Good morning," I said with a soft smile. "Or as good as it can be given what is coming at us, huh?"

"Yeah ... I mean yes it is. A good morning that is. Ah, John I think...."

"Wendy, come have a seat." I smiled and patted the bed next to me. "Please."

With slow steps she crossed the room and sat down, with a posture that said she was seconds away from hopping up if she needed to. Reaching over, I tried to take her fingers but she pulled her hand back from mine before they touched. Her eyes went to mine when I sighed and then she looked even more uncomfortable. Taking a deep breath she moved her hand back and took my hand in hers.

"John, I ... I'm not sure what I need to say here. Ah. Last night, in the hall, ah ... well."

"I kissed you."

"Yes, you did. Why?"

The little squint that came to her brown eyes when she was puzzled was so beautiful I thought as I gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Wendy, unlike your Ex, I happen to like women that don't have pig tails and pop bubble gum as a recreational sport. You are a very sexy woman, who I like, and who--in case you haven't noticed this yet--happens to be single."

"And twenty five years older than you!"

"Twenty four." I shrugged. "Remember, I'm about eight months older than Martin. But seventeen, eighteen? I can't say that matters to me in the least. Kissing you is something I've thought about doing for several years, and well, last night I decided to just do it. I figured, at worst, you might get mad and throw me out, but who knows." I grinned. "The other side of that coin, after all is a lot more pleasant. For a moment or so I could tell you were enjoying it."

"Yeah, till I came to my senses about whom I was kissing. John, I've watched you grow up." She took back her hand. "I've probably fed you more meals in the last ten years than your mother. I ... well, I in a way see you as almost my son. Yes, I'll admit that, for a second or two, I was enjoying the kiss but that's simply me being lonely down here." She turned and looked out the window at her garden. "I keep hoping I'll meet someone down her my own age, a person that shares my hobbies, some of my likes, my passions. That I can talk to."

For a second I thought she was crying then I realized she was softly chuckling.

"For a man that wouldn't see my trying to take care of him, make his life easier, as trying to manage him." She absently picked at a stray bit of fuzz on the fitted sheet under her. "Call me old fashion, but I sort of like to take care of the men in my life."

"Wendy. I want you to take a moment and think of what you just said, and then see if every bit of it does not easily apply to me." Leaning forwards, I saw her eyes go to my bare chest. "I love it when you take care of me, makes me feel like someone gives a damn about me. I certainly enjoy sitting and talking to you. Hell, that's all we did for days back in April, yes?" I shrugged, "Can't say I know much about gardening, but if it was working with you I would find it a pleasant way to spend the day."

"John! You're Martin's best friend. Even if I was thinking of you in that way, there is no way in hell. You would wreck years of friendship."

"Wendy, I like Martin. I really do. Your son is one of my better friends on this earth." I leaned back against the headboard behind me. "And I would do a lot for him, if he asked. But with this? Well, if he can't handle the fact his mother is now single and going to attract a man ... that's his problem. Not mine." I held out my hands and smiled. "By this time tomorrow morning this house may be rubble and we may both be dead. The least of my worries right know is that Martin might find out I think his mom is hot."

She blushed at the look in my eyes and looked away. Leaning down, she picked up my leather pants. Gave a sniff and held them out from herself.

"These reek of exhaust. How do I clean them?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I can do it," I said, reaching out for them.

"No, no. You said you like me taking care of you. Well how do I clean these? Leather polish? Sorry I'm all out of saddle soap."

"Well, to really get them clean, yeah saddle soap and some leather conditioner are best. But just to get them to not smell, wipe them down with a baby wipe," I shrugged, "or ten. That's about how many it usually takes me."

"A baby wipe? Okay, that I can do. Now, while I do that, there is breakfast on the stove. Help yourself."

"I can't do that without my pants," I said.

"John. I had both a husband and a son. Trust me, I have seen a man in his underwear walking around the house before." She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah ... but I don't have any of those."

For a half second she looked confused, and then her eyes dropped to the sheet covering my waist alone. My bare legs and bare chest caught her eyes then.

"Are you telling me I have been sitting in here talking to you and you're naked under that sheet?" At my nod she turned ten shades of red and looked away from me. "John! I asked if you were decent."

"Actually, you only asked if you could come in?" Smiling at her discomfort, I leaned over on the bed resting my head on my hand. "Which I had no problem with you doing."

For a second more she looked away, then her lips pursed and she looked back at me shaking her head. "You know, I should call you on this joke. Pull that sheet away and make you own up to all this flirting with me crap, you've been doing. See how funny you think teasing me is, when you have to look at an old naked woman, and find your bluff called."

The smile slipped off my lips. "Wendy, I'm not teasing you. This is no joke ... I wouldn't do that to you, not to mention the timing of it would suck." I pointed to the rain on the window. "When I said you were sexy and hot, I meant it. I think you are certainly both. Always have really. Only now ... you're single, sexy, and hot." Swinging my legs around off the side of the bed, I stood up, the sheet falling away from me. "And I never bluff."

Leaving her there, with her mouth on the floor, I walked across the room and towards the hall to the bathroom. But, I stopped by the doorway though, and looked back at her still sitting there on the bed holding my leather pants. "You can take your time with those if you want. By the way, what's for breakfast? Besides the bacon I smell?"

"Ah ...oh, umm, cheese eggs and buttered toast." Wendy's eyes went from my face to my crotch and then hurriedly back to my face. "Everything is ready, but might be getting cold."

"I won't be long."

"Oh. Um, yeah ... I mean okay. Ah ... John?" she stammered.

"Yes?"

"We have to get the shutters unstuck." Again I saw her about to look down and she stopped herself. "After breakfast I mean."

"Then I will need my pants by then. Thanks again."

"No ... thank you." Her voice was little husky.

"You're very welcome." With a grin, I left the room.

** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

The step ladder I was standing on was meant to be used in the kitchen to reach high cabinets. Not to be outside, with a man my size standing on it, trying to get forty year old storm shutters unstuck from where their hinges had been painted over.

Way too, many times painted over as I soon found out.

The rain was a light misty drizzle that had my hair plastered to my neck and a cold, wet drip going down my spine. My tank top shirt was tight as a second skin across my chest. From the waist down I was dry though. Leather sheds water like a duck when properly treated.

Throughout the morning Wendy and I worked on her house. Doing all the things that they were advising people to do. Well, except we didn't fill up rubber maids with water. I pointed out that there was a swimming pool not twenty feet out the back door that had a near endless supply of water for things like flushing toilets.

Wendy had wrapped her hair in a scarf and put on a light rain poncho, taken from out the trunk of her car, kept there to use if she needed to change a tire in the rain. She was handing me the tools I had to keep switched from to try and chip paint, free a saltwater rusted bolt, or oil a hinge and we went window by window.

Around a house with fourteen windows.

Once I looked back and caught her eyes on my ass. When she looked up, I winked. She blushed and kept her eyes on the surrounding neighborhood after that. Not that there was a lot going on to see. Most of her closest neighbors had taken heed and headed away from the storm. Down the street we could see some people nailing plywood across their windows. And beyond that was a guy walking case after case of water into his house, from out the back of a blue pickup truck.

Twice county sheriffs drove by, lights on driving slow. The second one nodded to me and Wendy and then stopped at the guys with the plywood, and then again at the next guy with the water, talking to them from out his car windows.

"Wonder why he didn't speak to us?" Wendy asked.

"No idea. They're a little closer to the beach than your house, but not by that much." I pulled and the last shutter gave up its forty year death grip on the house's siding and moved. "There we go." Manhandling it around, I hooked the antique wrought iron latches. "All done."

"Good, let's get out this rain."

"Sounds like a plan I can get behind." Folding up the ladder, I carried it around and placed it back on the wall in the garage not far from my bike. Wendy closed the rollup door behind her, and I left my boots beside the door to inside of the house while she got out of her poncho. I stopped though before I walked in through behind her and stood looking at her car.

"Let me get you a towel. John? What is it?"

"Had an idea. When the wind starts to get bad later, it might be a good idea to back your car till it's touching the garage doors, that way the wind doesn't blow them in."

"You really think it's going to get that bad?" she asked, fear quavering her voice for the first time. Even if only a little. "I mean I know it's ...."

"No, Wendy you don't know. Neither do I. The only people around here that know, have all run like crazy to get away from this thing. Thank you." I reached out and took the towel from her hand. Moving to where her laundry room door was open, with clothes going in both the washer and drying in the dryer, I pulled off my tank top and started to dry my chest. "Truth be told, that fact alone scares the hell out of me."

"John ... would you please do me a favor? Leave. I'm not scared for me, but I don't like your being here. I can't bear the idea of you getting hurt because of me."

Looking back at her, I saw her standing there holding her elbows, arms tight over her breasts. Dropping the damp towel beside my wet shirt I moved over and took her in my arms, pulling her in tight to my chest. I let my cheek rest on her hair, flattening the hairspray stiffened curls.

"Only if you will come with me." I felt her sigh against my bare chest. "I'm not leaving you, Wendy."

"I won't ride on a motorcycle. Never again. I did it once when I was a little younger than you. I had nightmares for five years after that once ride. Never again." She shivered and snuggled in to me. After a moment she moved her cheek, and then chuckled. "Now this is the way to flirt with me. I have always liked men with a hairy chest and a smooth back."

"Wendy, may I kiss you again?"

"No." She moved her head away from my lips, but then hugged me tighter. "But you can hold me till both our legs get tired of standing here."

Or until the buzzer on the dryer went off, five minutes later. But that was the sweetest five minutes I can recall in a long time. She was a comfortable warmth, soft and scented in the most delicious way. Wendy, despite the work we had been doing, smelled of vanilla chi spice. It was in her hair, in her perfume. All marshmallow and cinnamon. Then, when I turned my face into her hair I caught her own scent, a pheromone-laced cocktail of female odors that brought to mind the old rhyme. Sugar and spice and everything nice. Well, she was far more than nice. When that damn cicada-loud buzzer went off I wanted to cuss.

"I need to get that. John?"

"My legs aren't tired yet," I said not moving a muscle.

She chuckled. "Well, mine are getting that way. How about this? If you will turn me loose then, yes, you can kiss me again."

Looking down into those deep brown eyes, I saw my fate reflected back at me. It didn't scare me. "If I kiss you again, I may never want to turn you loose."

Her hand moved on my back, following the ridge of muscle down my spine. "John ... please."

The soft sound of that single word. Breath delivered, almost a begging for my lips, showed me things then. The thoughts behind those dark pools were of us not of the approaching storm. Her shiver was not in fear. Or perhaps it was. Fear that she would also never want to be turned lose.

Leaning down, I turned my head at the last moment my lips passing like butterfly wings across her cheek. Right by her ear I whispered ... three soft words. I felt them impact her like waves on the coast; they made her lean back and look up into my eyes.

Mine held no secrets, just promises. Promises that left her shocked to the core.

Leaving her there--unkissed but with the echo of those three words still singing to her--was the hardest thing I have ever done. I felt my heart thundering in my chest all the way down the hall and to the living room. Sitting down on the couch, I leaned back for a moment, felt the furry weight of Tobias come to settle on my lap, and then closed my eyes to rest them.

The strain of that long, hellish ride and then this morning's struggle was still taking its toll on me. And the warm purring weight certainly didn't help, I was asleep in moments.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

The emergency broadcast signal woke me. And that ear-splitting tone is one hell of an alarm clock to wake up to.

[The National Weather Service in Mobile has issued a tornado warning for South Baldwin County and South-West Alabama and South Escambia County and North-West Florida till2:30pm Central Daylight time. At 1:34pm Central Daylight time the National Weather Service Doppler radar indicated a severe thunderstorm capable of producing a tornado over the Gulf of Mexico about 17 miles South-East of Pensacola Pass moving at 55 miles per hour. The tornado producing storm is expected to be near Pensacola Pass by 1:50pm Central Daylight time. Johnson's Beach and Perdido Key by 1:55pm. Perdito Beach and Josephine by 2:00pm. Oberta and Midland by 2:05pm. Repeating: The National Weather Service in Mobile has issued a tornado warning for South Baldwin County and South-West Alabama and South Escambia County and North-West Florida till2:30pm Central Daylight time.]

Sitting up rubbing my face, I looked around. There was still light rain on the windows. My feline lap warmer had left me at some point. And the house was eerily quiet.

"Wendy?"

Getting up, I walked barefoot through the house looking for her. There were still clothes tumbling in the dryer, I noticed in passing, and then I walked past one of the windows and saw her out in her garden. Stopping, I looked out there. Wendy was in her rain poncho again, digging up plants putting them in black plastic pots. Her garden wheel barrel was filled with them already. Moving to go see what was going on I stopped by the dining room. The Amazon rainforest might have more plants per square foot, but that room was running a real close second.

With a shake of my head I moved to the glass sliding back door. She had moved the wheel barrel by it and was gathering an arm load, as I slid it open. She looked up and smiled.