Falling Under by Delka Beazer Read Free Book Online

truck. Brown grass, waist high, with stubborn slices of green life immediately swallowed half of me.
    I grimaced, pushed it aside and followed Jake who got out his toolbox. A few yards up ahead a backhoe was busy digging out the foundation of what would once again be someone’s home.
    Jake stopped beside the backhoe, waved, “Hey, Mack! Good morning. Ready to switch?”
    The driver waved to us then finished scooping up another great pile of bronzed dirt from the foundation of the home site. Large lumps of dirt trickled from the jaws of the machine as it lumbered over to dump it onto a twenty-foot mound.
    Jake looked down at me, his eyes were soft this morning, warmth left over from the intimacy of last night.
    “Mind hanging out by yourself for a few hours?” he asked.
    I scrunched my brow, gave him a tart look, “you dragged me all this way just to dump me?”
    He flashed a grin, one that relaxed the stiff muscles of his lean cheeks and put green fire into his eyes, he cocked his head and searched my eyes. I didn’t spot his intentions until it was too late.
    His mouth on mine was soft, delicate, a touch of air that teased at my lips. I stopped breathing. Tried to savor each touch of him.
    He lifted away too soon, his eyes narrowed, his bottom lip plumped from the brief contact.
    His smirk widened, “Shush.  You talk too much.”
    I harrumphed, flustered by the warmth in his voice, “since you don’t need me now, I’ll head over to those trees until you do.”
    “That’s a date,” he walked off to the empty backhoe.
    I flushed bright red as I turned on my heels. I threw a look at Mack who was climbing down from the vehicle. Had Mack had seen our little têtê a têtê. Hurriedly I scooted towards the trees.
    Embarrassment forgotten, I laughed in delight as I broke into the clump of pale green leaves. Creamy blossoms with tiny flecks of crimson in the center greeted me. I reached out gently and skimmed my finger reverently over one.
    Apple trees. In bloom.
    I walked slowly around the fifteen foot beauties all around me. The trunks were thick and sturdy, dark with maturity.  The orchard must’ve been at least two decades old.
    A perfusion of white blossoms formed a cloud over my head. An old ladder parked up against a gnarled, ancient trunk called to my eyes.
    I went over and climbed up.  My head burst the top of the tree, the sun hit my face, I closed my eyes and turned my face upwards to it. I soaked up its soothing warmth.
    Opening my eyes I looked around me, my breath caught.  The blossoms were spread out like an uneven floor, light and floating in the sky.
    I stayed still for dozens of heartbeats too content to move. Then reluctantly I began to descend. Halfway down, I cried out and stopped. An old, dead branch had caught my elbow, scraping away some of the skin. I reached across and snapped it off with ease. I searched the tree and found dozens more.
    I smiled in grim determination. It turned out there was something here for me to do after all.
    Time passed. The sun hit the middle of the sky, then its glare began to fade. I moved from one tree to another and another. A small pile of dried leaves grew in the middle of the apple orchard.
    I started down the ladder of my current victim when I felt him standing below.
    He was waiting for me, his hands open, his eyes unreadable, “jump,” he commanded.
    I gaped, I was still ten feet in the air, “You can’t be serious!” I snapped.
    His eyes flashed hard, I swallowed. He was.  “Trust me. I won’t let you fall,” the words seemed like a promise.
    What the hell! I closed my eyes and pushed off. I cried out as soon as I felt myself plummeting through air but it was only a millisecond and then I was in his arms, caught tight and hard against him.
    “Open your eyes,” he said harshly, he was panting as if he too had just been scared out of his mind.
    I opened my eyes, shocked by his tone, I glared at his hostile face, “You’re mad at me?” I cried,