Outer

corrected May

corrected May harshly.
They walked on in silence another quarter of a mile, until they passed a couple entwined in a heated embrace under the shade of a peach tree a small way off the path. Raising his eyebrows at them, Carlisle broke the silence by saying, “They really are uncommonly friendly here. I think it’s high time we located Sheila. I suspect the sooner we get out of here the better for all of us.”
“Amen to that.”
“When we find her, I don’t want you to let her out of your—” Carlisle stopped short on the path and cocked his head to the side.
“What is it?” asked May, stopping along with him.
“What color was that dress Sheila had on this morning?” He gestured up and down the length of his body and scowled disapprovingly, “You know the one I mean.”
“Gold, I think. Why?”
“That’s what I thought,” he said. He took three large steps backward, glared in the direction of the peach tree and darted off the path.
Carlisle had the boy by the scruff of the neck when May finally caught up to him, breathless. He yanked the young man onto his feet and gave him a shove that sent him reeling. May caught a brief glimpse of the boy’s handsome frightened face as he glanced over his shoulder at Carlisle, before finding his feet again and scrambling away.
Sheila slipped behind the peach tree and clutched the trunk, her lips cherry red, full and flushed from the kiss.
“You don’t even know him,” Carlisle yelled, following her around the tree with his hands on his hips as she sidestepped around the trunk. He stopped and dashed the other way with the same agility and speed that had allowed him to out-fox Fowler.
Sheila shrieked, left the tree