The Best of Me

by Tina Wainscott

  “Sure you don’t want to talk about it?” he asked as they headed up the boardwalk.

  “You know what I want to do? I want to just sit here and look at you.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, but his expression was one of pleasant surprise. “You’ll be bored in thirty seconds.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  They reached the deck that circled their half of the boathouse. He walked inside long enough to take down the hammock and lay it on the deck. She wanted to sit so that he would be in the full moonlight, but the moon was directly overhead. It cast its silvery light down over them, over their hands as they linked the moment they sat down.

  No words. What good did they do anyway? He cared about her. She loved him. It got them nowhere.

  She pushed all words from her mind, concentrating on Chris, on the curves of his face, the way his curls moved in the breeze, the shape of his mouth. He still wore his white, cotton shirt, unbuttoned to show a slice of tanned skin. They sat cross-legged, knees touching. Heat flared up where their palms pressed together, where the moisture sealed them.

  She could feel that touch rise up her arms, a tingling heat that crept through her body like the burning fuse of a firecracker. She let desire twine through her body and curl between her legs. Her fingers tightened on his, and he mirrored the movement. Their expressions remained passive, or at least she hoped hers didn’t show the pain, the desire or the love flowing through her.

  It amazed her how simple this was, sitting here, not saying anything. How simple, yet profound. She wanted to believe that he had shared more with her than with those other women.

  His fingers tightened again, as if in answer to her doubts. Had he seen the question in her eyes? God, she loved this man. The words echoed through her body, constricting her chest, and coiling through her limbs. How was she supposed to let him go? How could she walk away and be content to go on with her life as though he’d never touched it?

  He closed his eyes, and his breathing became even. Just when she wondered if he’d fallen asleep, his breath hitched.

  “Wicked man,” she whispered, running her finger across the chin that looked strong yet hinted at vulnerability.

  He opened his eyes, and she felt the impact of that gaze right to the pit of her stomach. The pain of goodbye in her heart was mirrored in those eyes. Her hand trailed from his cheek to the curve of his mouth as she remembered their kisses. He pressed her palm to his mouth, tickling her sensitive skin with his tongue. She ran her fingers down the column of his neck to his bare chest and over his firm stomach. She had loved this body, had touched everywhere, and would remember the smell and taste of him forever. Not a fling, this. She knew in her heart this was more than that, for both of them.

  He knelt over her, allowing her to reach up and touch him as he loosened her top and slid it over her head. He ran his hands down her face, through her hair. She would have closed her eyes in pleasure, but she didn’t want to take her eyes off him. He looked ethereal in the moonlight, the dolphin that came out of the sea to become a man during the full moon.

  His hands skimmed over her breasts. He touched her sides, following the line of her waist and hips, sliding her shorts down in one smooth movement. His shorts were next to go, and she realized how comfortable she was being naked with him. Even that first night they’d spent in the hammock, there was nothing self-conscious it.

  He raised one of her legs and ran his fingers down it, kissing the sensitive skin behind her knee. If she had felt numb earlier, she felt alive now. Alive and pulsing and hungry. She wanted to savor every moment, to make it last until morning when she had to pack and leave. She pushed the thought from her mind just as his finger slid over her most feminine part, making her suck in a breath.

  He kissed and nibbled down her thigh, across her hair and over her stomach as he pleasured her until she went over the edge on a breathless gasp. Her fingers twirled through his curls as her body shuddered and tensed in one long jolt. And then the sensations started all over again as he circled her breasts with his tongue. Feather-light touches pushed her to another edge, and then over again.

  Her head rocked back as he kissed the hollow of her throat and then up until she captured his mouth and kissed him crazily. She wanted to give back the pulsing, hot pleasure he’d given her, and as her tongue stroked his so did her fingers stroke him. He let out a growling noise that echoed in their joined mouths, and she smiled at success.

  Then he made love with her in the deepest way possible. He slid in easily, filling her, possessing her. Her fingers tightened over his back as those wicked sensations started again, rising from a high peak and taking her even higher. In that cool, balmy night everything exploded inside her, and she clung to him the way she wanted to cling to his heart and soul. He held her just as tightly, telling her without words that he didn’t want to let her go, either.

  When their breathing stilled, they stretched out beside each other washed in a glow more magical than moonlight. No words. She loved that about making love with him. They didn’t need words. Their bodies knew instinctively what the other needed, wanted. They moved in a synchronous rhythm the way waves washed in and out of the lagoon.

  He reached out and touched her cheek. His mouth opened slightly, though no sound emerged. He closed his eyes and pulled her closer until their bodies melded. She felt safe and content in his arms. If only she could stay awake until morning so she could relish the feel of his body, of every hair and bone that she felt pressed against her bare skin.

  What have you done to me? Whatever it was, she knew the damage was irreparable.

  LUCY THOUGHT she was dreaming about Liberty. She could hear his playful whistle, hear him splash beneath her. Chris sat up, rubbing her leg in a subconscious way. She sat up, too, and followed the noise that was no longer in her dream.

  “Liberty!” She scrambled to her knees and leaned through the railing.

  Liberty bobbed his head, and she knew his smile was true now. His mate was a distance away, waiting for him.

  Chris slid into his shorts and climbed through the railing to drop into the water. Lucy went into the boathouse to put on her bathing suit and followed. Liberty jumped out of the water in a graceful arc, but never looked at Chris for a reward. Chris checked him over for any abrasions. Lucy put her palm out, and Liberty touched a snout unmarred by bruises to it.

  “Oh, look at him,” she breathed.

  Chris’s satisfaction was written across his face. “He’s doing great.” He looked at the fin in the distance. “She’s probably telling him to get a move on.”

  Her face brightened. “Do you think it’s a she?”

  “I know it. And we’d better let him go to it.”

  She nodded, turning to climb back on the deck. When she turned back, Liberty was watching them.

  “Thanks for coming by and letting us know how things are going,” Chris said. His expression softened as he looked at the dolphin for a moment. “Bye, Liberty.”

  He walked away from the railing, and Lucy followed, trying hard not to turn back to see if he was still there. She knew he was, though, because she could hear him moving in the water. Chris walked into the boathouse and peered around the corner of the window. Liberty was looking for them, and Lucy’s heart nearly broke. She started to say something, but he pressed his finger over her lips.

  Those lips were stretched into a frown as she watched Liberty. The dolphin remained for several agonizing minutes, calling to them with his whistles, tilting his head. Her fingers curled around the window’s edge so tight they hurt. So unfair, so unfair, the words chanted through her mind as she tried to blink away the tears. Finally Liberty turned around and headed back to his partner.

  “I don’t want him returning when I’m gone. If the people who stay here feed him, it could set back Liberty’s untraining.”

  She sighed, her insides a knot. “I know, but he was so cute. And so sad, looking for us when we walked away.”

  “Call it tough
love.”

  She met his gaze and had the feeling he was talking about more than the dolphin. “It is tough.” She pulled her gaze away, looking out the window as the two fins joined a few more farther out. “It’s so hard letting go.”

  “Yes, it is.” He touched her cheek, then turned to get towels.

  “He must have asked the pod to pause so he could stop in and say hi.” Her frown returned full force. “And we walked away from him.”

  “It’s for his own good. You remember that clean-break theory, don’t you?”

  She kept her gaze at the water. “Yes, I know all about it. It’s a good theory, but it hurts like hell.” She turned to him. “You’re going to do the same thing to me, aren’t you? You’re going to ignore my letters, never call and convince yourself it’s for my own good.” When he didn’t answer, she said in a low voice, “Aren’t you?”

  “Remember when I said all or nothing?”

  “But you never asked me for all.”

  His expression was somber. “Because that woman inside you who loves the city and money and material comforts would never be happy with me.” He looked out over the water, his voice so low she could barely hear it. “When I work with dolphins, I know in advance that they have to go. If you decided to give everything up to be with me, I’d take that as a forever thing. A commitment to the dolphins and me. Watching you walk away would kill me ten times as much as watching Liberty leave.”

  “So it’s not only me you’re protecting….” She let the sentence die when he shook his head. She wanted to hit him, but her frustration lay in herself, not in him. Because he did have her thinking about forever. She would be the one giving up her life as she knew it, because she would never ask Chris to do the same.

  AS THE TIME TO LEAVE loomed ahead, Lucy became almost anxious to get the pain over with. They both showered and dressed, she packed, and they headed into town for lunch. The banana he had fed her earlier sat in her stomach like a lump, and the shrimp on her plate looked as appetizing as some of the other creatures she’d seen beneath the water.

  “Eat,” he ordered.

  “Are you treating me like one of your dolphins?”

  “Are you going to toss a ball to me with your snout?”

  She couldn’t even muster a smile, but dropped her gaze to the shrimp and spicy rice on her plate. He hadn’t eaten much of his sandwich, either, though she didn’t know if it was for the same reason.

  “There’s a guy who gives helicopter tours for the tourists,” he said after a few minutes of silence. “He’s going to take me up a few times to check on Liberty before I leave.”

  “Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?”

  He shrugged. “Just talking.”

  “Since when do you talk so much?”

  He tilted his head. “Since you look so down.”

  “I don’t want to hear about you going up in a helicopter or seeing Liberty or anything.” She shoved away her plate and met his gaze. “Unless you write me about it. Or call me.”

  He didn’t answer. All or nothing. Ask me for all! She wanted to hear the words, yet the prospect of giving up everything in her life scared her to death.

  “I’m ready to go.” She stood, feeling restless and frustrated and bad that she was acting so petty.

  “But we’ve got two hours before your flight.”

  “I just want to check in and get it over with.”

  They hailed another cab to the airport, the place she’d been dreading ever since she arrived a week ago. After her luggage was checked in, she turned to him.

  “I don’t want you to wait with me.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

  She felt as lousy as she did when she’d turned her back on Liberty. “Yes,” she forced out. “Clean break and all,” she added, not meeting his gaze.

  “Not completely.”

  She looked up to see him handing her a business card. She blinked hard, trying not to let the damned tears come.

  “Thanks,” she whispered, her throat already thick with them. Christopher Maddox.

  “Bye, Miz Lucy.”

  He hugged her, which loosened a few tears on his unsuspecting cheek. He kissed hers away before touching his lips to hers in a gentle goodbye kiss. She wanted to fling herself against him and hold on like a drowning victim, but she maintained her self-control and moved back.

  “Goodbye,” she said in that thick voice.

  He turned and walked away, like he had with Liberty. She knew it hadn’t been easy for him that morning. Was it any harder now? No, she would not let herself think about it.

  She took a deep breath. It was over. For good this time. No running back, no visits. This hurt too much. Hurt? It ripped her guts out. She sat down, her gaze dropping to the card in her hand, already worn down the way he’d worn hers down. She tucked it in her purse with trembling fingers.

  17

  BACK IN HER WORLD, Lucy felt the way Chris had once described a captive dolphin: a nobody who belonged neither in the human world nor the dolphin world. Tropical music flowed from her stereo as she looked out at glass-and-steel buildings outside her windows.

  People looked at her as though she were different, treating her as someone with a terminal illness. They talked quietly around her, weighing what they said. She had no connection with anyone there, and she had no connection with anyone in Nassau, either. No more park, so no Bailey to call for updates. No phone at the boathouse, even if Chris were still there. It had been three weeks since she’d left, and there was a good chance he was home now for however a brief time. She pulled out his card and rubbed the laminated surface, something she’d had done when she realized how often she would take it out and touch it. It felt warm beneath her touch.

  Every night, alone on her bed, she would take her father’s dog-eared maps and spread them out on her bed. He had penciled notes here and there, and she once again imagined that romantic wandering life she always thought he’d led. How much of his blood flowed through her veins? Deep inside she longed for that kind of adventure, but her conditioning for stability and success was so strong, she’d never even felt it before. Before Chris came along and turned her world upside down.

  She shook her head, forcing herself back to the present and to her drawing board. A proposal for a men’s underwear ad had turned into dolphins in a business card layout for the Free Dolphin Society. By the afternoon, she had a whole kit prepared: a brochure, new card and a letter to new members.

  She shook her head. “Lucy, you’ve really lost it.”

  “What the devil are you working on?”

  She jerked around to find Tom staring at her board.

  “What are you doing, sneaking up on me like that?” Her face was flushed hot and red.

  “I knocked, but you were apparently in the clouds.” He glanced disdainfully at the dolphin layout, which looked pretty good if she didn’t say so herself. He flicked his hair out of his face. “Luce, we need to talk.”

  She turned her chair around and leaned against the board. “You’ve got my attention.”

  His tone softened. “People are talking. You walk around like you’re lost. You haven’t gotten a new account since you came back.” He picked up the underwear ad ideas that had slipped to the floor, a brief covered with tiny dolphins. “This is garbage. You’re working for a client we don’t even have.” He started to pick up the dolphin ad, but she snatched it back and set it on her board. “You look like a zombie. Even your mother is worried—”

  “You spoke to my mother about me?”

  “I thought she could shed some light on the situation. Apparently she’s as baffled as I am. You’re not acting like yourself.”

  “And who is it that I’m supposed to be acting like, hmm?”

  His eyes widened, and he took a step back. “Luce, you need help.” He said it slowly, softly, so as not to upset her. “Maybe I pushed you a little hard. Maybe the divorce was too much to handle. Either way, I feel responsib
le and I want to make things the way they were.”

  She crossed her arms in front of her. “You want to know what’s wrong with me?”

  “Yes, yes I do.”

  “I don’t know who Lucy is. That’s why I can’t be her anymore.”

  He rubbed his jaw. “Did you experience an alien abduction? A possession?”

  “More like the latter, I think.”

  “It’s this dolphin guy, isn’t it? You had a fling and now you can’t get over him, is that it? Luce, we’re still friends. If you need some…companionship, I’d be glad to help.”

  She held back a bark of laughter. “You think I’ve lost myself because I’m horny?”

  “I don’t know. Obviously it’s a woman thing. I admit, though, that I get a little…distracted when it’s been a while.”

  “Forget it. I’m not interested.”

  His lower lip puckered out. “Are you in love with this guy or something?”

  She knew it sounded silly, but the word “Yes” came out of its own accord. “And I know it wouldn’t work out because we live different lives at different standards, so don’t go lecturing me. But you know what, Tom? I keep looking around and asking myself what I’m doing it all for? To have the nice apartment? The Beemer? The fancy watches, clothing, five-star dinners? Do you ever ask yourself what it’s really about?” She gestured toward his new Rolex watch glittering in the overhead lights. “Does this make you happy?” Her fist went to her heart. “Really happy, satisfied and content deep inside?”

  He frowned again, looking hard at the watch. “Yes, it does.”

  “It’s the Great Green Lie, Tom. All of it. You get satisfaction coming in here and showing it off to me, maybe. You’re happy when you’re rubbing my nose in your success. But if you take away all this, the clothes, the car, the office…take it all away, and what do you have? Tell me who Tom is.”

  “You have gone mad, haven’t you?”