The Flyer by Marjorie Jones Read Free Book Online Page B

frowned. She was about the most skittish creature he’d encountered in quite a long while.
    “Hurry, Paul. Catch up with her. She shouldn’t walk all that way alone,” Doc urged. “I’m going to take these ladies home and talk them out of a piece of lemon pie, I think.”
    “Something tells me you’ll be having more fun than I will.”
    It took only a few short moments to catch up with
    Helen. She hurried along the street, clutching her bag, wearing that cute little hat that covered all of her hair except for small upward curls at the ends. What would she do if he stroked one of them again, without severe injury or too much to drink as an excuse?
    She gave him no chance to find out, increasing her pace along the street.
    “You walk pretty fast for a little thing. What’s your rush?”
    “Why are you following me?” She didn’t look at him, keeping her stern gaze focused directly in front of her.
    “Doc told me to. He didn’t want you walking home alone.”
    “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Mr. Campbell.”
    “Paul.
    “What?”
    “My name is Paul.”
    “Of course. Paul. You can go collect your motorcar, now.”
    “So, you will go for a drive with me?”
    “No. That’s not what I meant.”
    “I’m not leaving until I see you safely home or you agree to spend the afternoon with me.”
    “You are persistent, aren’t you?”
    “The worst. I don’t know how people put up with me.”
    “Neither do I.”
    Clipping her words short, she turned a sharp left and dropped off the boardwalk and into the street.
    “Watch out!”
    The cry came from the opposite side of the roadway where three workmen were loading a stack of lumber into the back of a horse-drawn wagon. The boards twisted and fell with an enormous crack.
    The horses reared against their harnesses, stamping on the dry earth as they landed with a heavy thud. Billows of dust clouded around their pulsing bodies a second before both animals lunged forward. Out of control, the team ran into the center of the road, toppling their load into the path of an oncoming roadster. The driver of the roadster swore over the din, turning his wheels sharply and pointing his massive vehicle directly at Helen.
    Helen froze, her mouth opened as though she would scream.
    The driver obviously stomped on his brakes, but the loose dirt of the road wouldn’t allow the wheels any traction.
    Pushed by panic and fear, Paul jumped off the walkway and wrapped himself around Helen’s much smaller body. They landed in a crumpled heap of twisted arms and legs, but they were safe while the car shuddered to a stop nearby.
    Helen’s breath came short and fast, her eyes still wide. Her mouth was open, her lips in a full pout beneath bright red lipstick.
    “Are you two all right?” the driver’s panicked voice shouted.
    Paul couldn’t look away from Helen’s face if he tried. She was frightened, yes, but there was something more. Something hot and exciting that reached out to him as he lay atop her, his arms still holding her from harm.
    The danger had passed, he realized. He should release her, but he couldn’t seem to make his arms agree. She fit him. Even in the unceremonious position they must present, it felt more than comfortable. It felt right.
    He wasn’t expecting that.

    Helen couldn’t move. She couldn’t think, and most importantly, she couldn’t breathe. And she didn’t care. She knew the people on the street were gathering around, staring, wondering what had happened to bring two people into such a position on a public roadway. She didn’t care about them, either.
    Paul’s weight overpowered her. Worse, it overpowered her desire to do anything besides stare into the beautiful blue of his eyes and pretend nothing else in the world existed. Was that so wrong? Would it be so terrible to allow him past the careful shield she’d erected before she’d left her home?
    The voice of reason reared in the back of her mind.
    Of course, it was wrong!