The Mechanic

This titular owner of the establishment was so named because he had appeared the year before on Mark's doorstep on August 9, looking for all the world like several miles of bad road. The cat was hungry, dirty, and at the point where it was so desperate that it was willing to take risks it otherwise never would have. Mark stepped aside, opened the door, and the cat walked in. After a meal of tuna and juice, the animal opened its mouth wide, yowled once, and curled up on the sofa. He had been a deeply-loved member of the household and Sir Roger's good friend ever since.

"Hello, this is Mark," he answered.

"Mark, this is Parker Scott at Prism Designs. Do you have a few minutes...I need to talk with you."

"Certainly," he responded. "Please go ahead. I remember you from when Lauren and I came by her office several months ago."

He recalled Parker very clearly among several others of Lauren's staff because she was definitely what he called a 'traffic stopper.' The young woman, Lauren's office manager, was a dark-haired beauty in a short red sleeveless dress cut toward a fully encircling collar and displaying her creamy smooth shoulders. She had a remarkably dense growth of body hair on her legs beneath her light stay-up hose. Generous bushes of black fur curled from beneath her lovely arms, and Mark, who had never cared much for women who cultivated rather than shaved their hair, was aroused to the point of embarrassment. Parker also had a memorable chest stored braless beneath the thin red dress. To top off her unusual gifts, she had fingernails that were, according to his mother, five inches long from roots to their well-manicured tips. They curved sensuously, gracefully, like the talons of a hawk and were painted red.

"Mark, last night your mother was attacked as she arrived at home. It was an attempted rape, but she pulled some unexpected moves that Larry had taught her, and the predator hit her hard several times, then ran away. She is in pain, she has been under a lot of job pressure, and this sweet lady desperately needs a break. This really scared her. Can I drive her to your home tomorrow and leave her for at least a week?"

"Absolutely! Do you know how to get here, Parker? I can text or e-mail directions to you if you don't. Or should I drive up there to get her?"

"You're thoughtful, Mark; yes, I have your location programmed into the GPS in my Lexus. I can be there in several hours. I'll go over to her place now and help her get ready. We should arrive there tomorrow morning around eleven."

"How is she, Parker? Is she all right? Is anything broken? Is there anything special I ought to get in order to be ready for you two?"

"No, and I appreciate your implied invitation. I may be able to stay for a while if it's okay with your mother, but we can talk about that when we get there. I'll be handling the office and business while she's with you, although I know she has some ideas we want to present to you. She and I have talked over a few contingencies we'd gotten ready some time ago for an interruption similar to this. And frankly, Mark, she needs some serious time away from here. This place runs like a well-oiled machine under her leadership, but I want her away from this grief about your father and this unending strain. You are the mechanic for this."

"I understand, Parker, and I agree completely. Thank you for being a real friend to her and to me. I'll be here waiting for you tomorrow. Do not hesitate to call for anything; you two are number one on my list!"

They disconnected, and Mark swung into full operation mode. He tousled Roger's fur, at which the dog again threatened to unscrew his tail, wagging it furiously; addressed the cat that once more yawned its concern; phoned Kimberly Brennan at his office; then called Karen-Anne Jellicoe who ran the massive Tally-Ho service plaza and 24-hour murder-mart out on Highway 41 with a list of items he'd pick up in an hour. Finally, he hustled around the house to re-make the bed in the second bedroom. His own larger room also served as his office and the repository for his safe. Since he typically kept his area at college, on the rig, and now here at home ready for what Kimberly termed "an inspection at all times," he didn't have that much to do. But he'd always figured that when you care a lot, you offer your best.

He made one phone call to a number he dialed only infrequently. "Sam, Lauren was attacked last night in West Palm. A friend is bringing her down to stay with me for a while. I don't know if I'll need your help for anything serious, but if I do I wanted to give you a heads-up."

"I'm here if you need me, my friend," replied a hard voice on the other side of the state. "You know I have the equipment; you do, too, so whatever arises, send up a smoke signal. I'll be there. I've got the friends you've already met, so don't worry about support. Take care of that lady. And watch your six."

"Done." Mark tapped his phone to off and went out on the porch to eat a frozen meal as he thought. The night closed in around the cabin, rich with airborne scents, the glint of fireflies, sounds of small critters in the darkness and the moans, groans, and growls of larger animals in that incredibly wonderful wilderness.

Finally, he stood, locked up and went to bed.

Chapter 5

New Business

The next morning Mark woke with anticipation. He rose, made waffles and fried eggs with bacon, momentarily fended off Sir Roger who was the world's premier mooch, then surrendered three pieces of bacon to the happy dog as August looked on with disdain. Mark was never sure whether that gaze by the cat was for him or the retriever.

He dressed in a pair of black denims, pulled on a pair of black Tony Llama boots and shrugged into a short-sleeved blue denim shirt. He stood before the mirror brushing his wavy black mane until it curled deliciously about his face. Its weight down his back always aroused him, and today was no exception. He decided to wear it unbound rather than in its usual massive pony tail. Then he made a mug of coffee and went out on the porch to wait for his guests. The atmosphere was heavy with honeysuckle and the grapey scent of kudzu somewhere on his property. He'd have to kill that stuff, he knew; you could actually stand and watch it grow, and given half a chance, it would take over everything.

The wetlands out there hummed with life, the wiry sound of cicadas winding up and falling off into silence, a scrapey 'braakk' from a passing blue heron, and the hammer of a woodpecker determined to drill out the forest one tree at a time if necessary. Mark had named the bird, appropriately, Jack Hammer. Periodically it took up a position on the corrugated metal roof at the side of the house and thundered away at the bright object. Things rustled in the brush fifty yards beyond the house, and it occurred to Mark that he was still undressed. He went inside, retrieved his Sig-Saur P226 with its holster from the safe, inserted a magazine of .40 caliber Smith & Wesson rounds, charged the weapon, added a second magazine to the pouch in front and clipped the Galco carrier onto his belt beneath his shirt. Now he felt fully clothed.

The sound of a distant vehicle approaching on the graveled road brought him back to the present from his reverie. Parker's Lexus rolled into view and came to a stop in front of the house. Mark descended his steps to open the passenger door for his mother, but she had already exited the car even before he could get to her. He swept the laughing woman off her feet and whirled her around before setting her down and enfolding her in a bear hug.

Then he noticed the bruise that half-circled her throat and those dappling her upper arms.

"Lauren, the attacker did this to you! If only I had been there. I am so sorry, my Love."

The hint of his true feelings was out without his been aware of its closeness to the surface. He recovered with another gorilla-like squeeze and said, "Welcome, gorgeous woman, to our humble digs!"

"This is perfectly lovely. You are so beautiful. I am so thankful to be here! Parker, come over here and meet Mark...all over again." His mother looked at him suggestively and whispered, "Angel, I'll tell you about it later. Please don't worry about the bruises; that's why I'm here...so you can take care of me. I want you to fix me, Marcus."

Things were moving so rapidly that, as he later thought back on that morning, he was impressed with several things. His mother, Lauren, was more beautiful than he remembered. Her long black hair was now shot through with strands of gray and white, giving her an aura of raw mature sensuality that oozed from her with a tangible heat. And when she kissed him, it wasn't on the cheek; she lingered on his mouth and flicked her tongue between his lips. He recalled the delicious electric charge that zipped through him there in the sunlight.

"Mark, this is Parker Scott, my director, my friend, my literal right arm, and...and so much more. Parker, I know you two have met, but this is Mark. My precious Mark."

"Good morning, Parker. You are so gracious to come all this way." He offered his hand, but the lovely young woman moved close to him and slowly put her arms about his neck. She kissed him on the mouth, yet it did not seem presumptuous. It was more an intimate statement of a familiarity that had no long history but was nonetheless tenderly erotic. She softly raked his face with her long nails, a gesture that expressed sensuality. He recalled later that as his glance passed over Lauren, she was looking on with pleasure and a broad smile.

"Parker, let's get her bags inside, then we'll have a drink of lemonade, Coke, or whatever you ladies want. Us here, we're good for anything." Sir Roger gave a confirming bark as if he had been following the conversation in detail. The cat looked on with analytical disdain from its perch on the porch shelf.

Lauren wore a sleeveless fitted white denim jumper with a short skirt displaying those gorgeous bare thighs and curvy calves, and a pair of heeled basket-weave summer shoes. The jumper top was unbuttoned to a point below her breasts, and her cleavage was memorable. She wore no bra. He strove mightily to not stare and failed miserably. Nor could he resist wondering if she wore anything under that very short skirt.

Parker, slightly shorter than Lauren, wore a cropped yellow sweater top that fit like a second skin and the tightest pair of jeans Mark had seen on a woman. If she'd had a dollar bill in her hip pocket, he could have made out George Washington's facial outline. There was that sexy thick, black hair flourishing from beneath her arms, and a healthy trail of dark grass rose above the waistline of her jeans, ran up her tanned abdomen and disappeared beneath the short top. She, too, had a chest that had to be a nine on the World Jiggle Scale, and the sweater top barely concealed the lower curves of her breasts. Her nipples were pointed and easily visible, and when she moved, her sweater was a riot of motion.

One small part of his mind asked, "Oh...my! Just who are these women?"

This time her incredibly long fingernails were painted a luminescent white. Mark strove mightily to figure out why this appealed to him sexually, but he couldn't. They were simply completely erotic and brought a delicious arousal between his legs. He wanted to touch them.

"I, uh, want you to...umm...feel at home here," he stammered as they went inside. Lauren turned with a lascivious grin and quipped, "Mark, Honey, we are so at home already. We are truly grateful that you like what you see in us. It's for you." Both women laughed, and the sound seemed to brighten the cabin. Mark flushed, then decided that it would be better to go along with these two than to pretend he didn't know what they meant.

"Look, you two gorgeous people, we live a normal life around here, Sir Roger, August and I. Then you show up with physical assets that a company of men and women would die for, you jiggle out of that Lexus, and you think I can ignore it? Not stare? Not in this lifetime!" he laughed. "But it's for you," he mimicked his mother's last remark with a grin and winked at her.

Both women looked pleased at the compliment from this attractive man. Mark rolled Lauren's travel bags into her bedroom, and Parker began introducing herself to the golden retriever and the cat. August yowled his acceptance of her and began the ceremony of wrapping himself around her ankles, marking her as his property. Lauren followed her son into the bedroom where she turned and quietly said, "Mark, thank you." The two came together without hesitation, and this time their kiss was intimate, moist and passionate. When they parted, his mother was breathing heavily and her piercing blue eyes cut to his soul.

"Oh, Lauren, please don't think...," he began, but she waved him off. "Mark, I enjoy what I think about you, it is extremely passionate, and I'll tell you soon. I am just happy and excited to be here."

"Okay, you two, knock off the close family stuff," Parker laughed. "I've got lemonade and some chocolate chip cookies for all of us. That porch of yours is incredibly inviting." With that she paraded authoritatively through the screen door and took a seat in the double swing. Roger curled up at her feet, licking both of them in her open-toe sandals and tickling her into laughter.

Mark and Lauren sat together on a comfortable bench he had built one afternoon the week before. He had no porch furniture and when he fell out of his hammock that he'd strung from a support post to the door frame, he decided that the time had come to take action. He checked several diagrams, then hauled out his tools and constructed a swing, a bench for two people, and an adjustable chair.

The volume of small talk that followed indicated that all three were relaxed. Mark asked Parker about her work and she spoke with interest about developments at Prism Design. She described Lauren's work at length, remarking that, "She won't tell you these things, Mark, because she doesn't want to sound as if she's bragging. But the development of our company into even more sensuous areas, our starting classes for the young and older people we have modeling for us, and the personal relationship Lauren has with every one of our thirty staff members in Palm Beach tells you a lot about her capable leadership of this company."

As they spoke, he felt his mother slowly slip her fingers into his. Her short skirt rode high enough up her thighs to reveal a small portion of her muff's raven curls, and Mark also noted that Parker was eyeing her slightly parted legs with interest. 'Ole buddy,' he remarked to himself, 'these two women are dynamite. And this lady is going to spend a week with me. I am definitely turning that into a month!'

Tension seemed to almost visibly slip away from his mother. Lauren was affected by the quiet of the woodland, and Mark felt her body relax as she snuggled closer to him. He welcomed the intimacy of her touch, and memories from years ago seeped into his consciousness, memories of his hunger for this gorgeous woman.

A flying wood boring beetle had set up shop in one of the porch support posts. Parker felt it either land in her hair or brush by her head and keep on going, for she raised her arms to brush at the insect. Mark felt a stirring in his body at the sight of her lush black underarm hair; he had never seen such large patches of fur on anyone before, and to him the sight was sexually arousing for reasons he couldn't describe. When she resumed her relaxed position in the swings, he could still see the fur bushing out in front and in back from beneath her arms.

After half-an-hour of conversation, Parker stood and said, "Well, you two, this is the perfect location for both of you. Lauren," and she placed her hands tenderly on her face, allowing her long nails to curve around Lauren's neck, "you will get rest here. You will enjoy more than one week if I have anything to do with it, and you will not do anything I wouldn't do!"

"That leaves an extremely wide playing field," laughed his mother.

"Exactly!"

"Mark," said the younger woman as she turned to Mark, "you will take care of this gorgeous woman. You will protect her, and you will do whatever it takes to keep her here...for months, if necessary. And I will be back, you can count on it. Let's do next week for starters. Is that oaky?" With that promise she embraced him, slid her tongue softly between his lips, and held him longer than required for a decent goodbye. This time he returned the pleasure. He felt her softly pull those talons across his face and neck beneath his mane of hair, then they parted. Her expression was one of intimacy and desire.

He whispered, "Parker, you can come down here any time you want, and we'll be waiting. Next week is perfect." When he glanced at Lauren, she was smiling again.

He held open the door of her Lexus for Parker, then they waved at her as the coupe disappeared down the graveled lane. He and his mother turned and laughed with anticipation at the prospect of their time together.

Chapter 6

A Tender Evening

"Lauren, about this time every day I take a walk around the property for exercise, but mostly to check to see if anyone has been around who shouldn't be here. Want to go along, Dear?'

"Of course I do!" she exclaimed with delight. Guess I'd better change into something with long legs; the mosquitos come out about this time. I'm going to need all the blood I've got for...," and her voice trailed off as she glanced coyly at her son.

"Yep!" he concurred. "I guarantee you, beautiful woman, you'll need blood, energy, determination, endurance, passion and good humor if you're gonna make it around this shack!" He laughed and kissed her lightly. "Go change; I'll get my staff. Otherwise, Sir Roger and I are ready for all comers."

She disappeared into the house, was gone for about five minutes, and reappeared wearing a pair of long khaki-colored denims and a coarsely-woven long-sleeved peasant-style blouse. Through the opaque cloth Mark could see everything; its deeply scooped neckline displayed her breasts, bared much of her nipples and allowed him complete view of her cleavage as it jostled with her movements.

"There, now!" she said brightly. "Am I ready for what comes next?"

"Mother of mine, I believe the beasts of the field and the fowl of the air out here will all have a simultaneous heart attack at the sight of this stunning beauty invading their domain." He laughed as he waxed poetic in response to her sensuality. He took her hand. "Let's go."

The retriever bounded ahead and then took off into the rough as they moved through the soft approaching twilight. Lauren was quiet at first, but she began commenting on the sights and sounds of the wilderness around them. Mark described some of the animals native to that area, then he made a very serious observation.

When his mother had arrived and got out of the Lexus he noticed the bruises on her neck, upper arms, and on her left breast. He had said nothing until now, but he could no longer contain his anger at her assailant. "Lauren, I see the bruises. They'll go away in time and with my very tender care," he grinned like a lustful teenager, "but are you all right? I mean from the standpoint of hurting anywhere now?"

"Thank you, Sweetheart, for your concern. No, other than some soreness from being thrown to the ground and grabbed so hard, nothing really hurts. The doctor said that I was blessed in being able to fight and escape before he raped me. There have been several of these attacks in that area, and I want to talk with you about moving. If you think it's wise, I will. I'll need your help...oh, lord, Marcus, I always need your help."