Lost and Found by Trish Marie Dawson

hugged tightly to his
     legs, leaving not much for the imagination. Not that I didn't already know every inch
     of his naked form, but the outfit and his newly fresh look was a giant tease to every
     one of my senses.
    Feeling uncomfortable on the wooden stool, I wiggled around, crossing and uncrossing
     my legs. Unable to find a position that worked, I gave up and walked over to the couch.
     My body was still sore from the bike crash and the scabs along my jaw seemed destined
     to stay awhile. But even with the wipeout a recent memory, my mind felt as if it had
     taken a beating.
    "So," Connor said, blowing at the steam that rose from the top of his cup, "I take
     it you got what you needed for the horses?"
    I nodded and leaned deeper into the plush cushions. "We got what we needed. But we
     won't be returning back to the same farm." I shivered at the mental picture of the
     severed horse head and tried to replace it with something less gruesome. It didn't
     work.
    "Why? Was the place wiped out?"
    "No. Something bad happened there. We'll find another place to rummage through next
     time," I answered, keeping my tone level and my gaze on the fireplace across from
     the table my feet rested on.
    "Hasn't something bad happened everywhere?" he asked, clearly knowing I didn't want to talk, but pushing
     anyway.
    "It was a different kind of bad. I'll talk to you about it later," I looked up at
     him, meeting his charmed appearance with a smile. Inside my mind, I chanted over and
     over: Do not jump him, do not jump him . But after he moved from the kitchen to the neighboring chair, sitting with one leg
     hooked casually over the other, sipping that damn cup and looking sexy as hell, all
     I could think about was ripping his clothes off.
    Since I knew that was exactly what he wanted to happen, I rose instead and walked
     away from the sitting room, not speaking again until my hand was on the wooden staircase
     banister, "I need a shower, keep your eyes out for Kris, okay?"
     
    ***
     
    The cold water gave me goose bumps, but I still felt flushed. As I stood beneath the
     streaming water, my mind was full of thoughts ranging from borderline indecent as
     far as Connor was concerned, to graphic and gory horse parts and on to fear and frustration
     that too much time had already passed since I decided to look for Mariah. She was
     out there, lost somewhere in a dead city. Finding her had become an obsession and
     I knew why. I had sent them away. I had killed her brother. Sure, it was self-defense, but that didn't keep the guilt
     at bay.
    Someone had to care about her and for whatever reason I didn't understand, that someone
     was me . It was illogical. It was border lining on stupidity. The thought that I would locate
     any trace of her in a city as large as Los Angeles was absurd, but - and I knew this
     to be true - if it was me out there, I would want someone to come and find me, or
     to at least try. Connor had to understand that, or I'd end up going alone.
    Not that I couldn't go alone. It's not as if I didn't think about it, but that would
     create an unnecessary problem and probably a small war between Connor and me. A war
     I wasn't sure I'd win. If I stayed in San Diego, I would be unhappy. If I left for
     Los Angeles, Connor would be unhappy. It wasn't a matter of right vs. wrong, it was
     a matter of who won this round. As I scrubbed the smell of horse and dry hay off my
     skin with my lathered loofa, I repeated one sentence over and over again in my head
     until I truly began to believe it: I will win this fight .
     
    ***
     
    "Feeling better?" Connor placed a glass of an antique bronze-colored liquid in front
     of me as I slid onto the barstool. I intentionally came downstairs after my cold shower
     in just a loose top - no bra and a short pair of running shorts. It seemed that neither
     of us was above using our sex appeal on each other.
    I let the water drip off the ends of my hair onto the floor underneath the