“Oh,” I breathe and check out Stone’s body, which is slick from the rain. Even sitting down, he’s got a six pack. Even in the cold, his giant penis is still giant and pushing against his dark blue boxer briefs. I worry that the flood of adrenaline is warping my good sense. I have to clamp down my attraction for Stone. More sex with him is just going to make it that much harder to cope emotionally. I’ve got to shut this down…if I survive.
I squint to see clearer. Ahead of us, Bark is on Tucker’s head, and his cart is slowing down. However, we’re on a slight incline, and Ruby’s cart is groaning against the strain. “It’s slowing down,” I say.
“Piece of shit can’t do ten miles per hour,” Stone complains. “Take the wheel.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
He leans over and picks up my legs, shoving them over to the pedals. Then, he takes my hands and places them on the wheel. “Ready?” he asks.
“No. What’re you doing?”
“All right. Here we go.”
Like a Captain America-Aquaman combo, he jumps out of the cart in the pouring rain and runs full out in his bare feet toward his carjacked cart and the bank robber inside it. In Ruby’s cart, I scoot over into the driver’s seat and press the gas pedal down as far as it will go, but Stone is running faster than Ruby’s golf cart can putt-putt.
Ahead, Bark is on the escaped criminal’s head, and Tucker’s swatting at the dog. His cart slows as we get close to the plaza, and Stone makes up the rest of the distance, leaping onto his cart. It’s a blur from there. Stone manages to get hold of the gun and throws it outside the vehicle. He punches the chainsaw killer in the head, which confuses Bark, who jumps on Stone’s head. The cart swerves as we reach the plaza, and it stops short. Caught off guard, I ram the back of it, and we hit the plaza’s fountain, breaking off a major chunk of the ugly landmark.
Stone and Tucker tumble into what’s left of the fountain, while Bark manages to hop out of the cart and yaps his head off while he stands in the middle of the plaza. I’m slightly stunned by the crash, but I manage to turn off the cart and get out. I watch as Stone pulls the criminal up and sucker punches him. I hear the crack of fist against chin, and Tucker goes down backward.
As he loses consciousness, the rain finally stops and the wind dies down to a light breeze. Sirens replace the noise, as Summer Island’s firefighters and police force approach.
Five minutes later, I’m wrapped in a blanket from the fire department, and the police have Rock Tucker in handcuffs. “You caught him, Stone,” the police chief says, shaking Stone’s hand. “You did a great job.”
I’m hustled away to get checked out at the clinic and Stone is hustled away to make an official statement. While we’re put into different emergency vehicles, we glance at each other but don’t say a word. I want to jump on him and never let go, but I tell myself that the quicker I let him go, the easier it will be for me.
***
Capturing an escaped bank robber during the storm of the century is the biggest news on Summer Island since Eleanor Roosevelt mentioned the island at a cocktail party for a women’s orange picking labor union. Millie and Cade, who run the local paper, have interviewed me three times, and the Society for the Preservation of the Fountain has threatened to sue me for the fountain’s destruction.
I take care of Bark at my place until Ruby comes home at the end of the weekend, and when she does, I offer to clean up her place. “It’s already done, doll,” she says when I show up with Bark. “Stone fixed everything. Even the glass in the door.”
“Oh.” Stone hasn’t contacted me since we had sex and almost died, but he had enough time to clean up Ruby’s house, I think, feeling rejected. Now, he’s on his boat on a long fishing trip, according to Marcy who got the skinny at the diner while I was recuperating at home during the weekend.
“Honey, you look like all the joy was squeezed out of your body,” Ruby tells me and insists that I join her for tea and an Entenmann’s raspberry Danish. Ruby is about seventy years old with a very modern wardrobe. Today, she’s wearing skinny jeans and a silk camisole. She slices me a big Danish and pours a dollop of milk in my tea.
“I’m sorry about your Juicy pants and your sweater. The clinic tossed them when they cleaned me up,” I tell her.
Ruby puts her hand on my leg. “I’m just happy you weren’t tossed.”
I think about the silence from Stone and realize that I have been tossed, but I don’t want to share that humiliating information with Ruby. It’s best to forget the roll on her rug with Stone and continue my life like it never happened.
“I had a long talk with Stone when he was here,” Ruby says, pouring another cup of tea. My ears perk up.
“You did?”
“When I got back, he was moving in my new couch. I love it. It’s red, which is a very powerful color.”
“That was nice of him.”
“He’s a good man,” Ruby says. “And you’re a good woman. You risked your life for Bark.” At the sound of his name, Ruby’s dog jumps on her lap. I pat his head. “Anyway, Stone said that you two are close friends.”
“He’s my brother’s best friend.”
“And you love him.”
I gasp and spill some of my tea. I mop it up with a napkin. “Did he tell you that?” I ask, startled.
“No, but I got the impression that something happened between you two. Something besides the bank robber.”
