by Marni MacRae
I can feel the anger in his kiss, the hurt and fear laced with desire, and I answer back with my own fear. Fear of losing him, of losing myself again. But mostly, I simply taste him, the sharp taste of hunger, the warmth that seems to constantly rest there at his mouth.
His arms crush me against his chest as he leans me back into the cab of the truck. Suddenly we are lying along the bench seat, Nick pressing down on top of me, bringing to life a fire that feels like it will burn through me, ignite the world with its heat.
Our mouths open to each other and I can’t seem to taste him enough, get close enough. He is lying atop me, but my hands pull at him, trying to bring him closer, as if we should be one, living inside each other, our skin too much distance between our hearts.
Nick pulls back slightly and I grasp him, “No,” I plead against his mouth. “Don’t go, please.”
“I’m not leaving Eve.” Nick lets out a low moan and continues to pull away. “I can’t do this.”
My heart screams, and I feel like he has struck me. His eyes catch mine, and they must reflect pain for he is back kissing me again, softer this time, but still with a gentle urgency that keeps my mouth opening to him, needing that wet heat.
“I mean,” he begins again, “I can’t do this here. On the side of the road.”
“Oh.” It dawns on me that anyone could pass by. Perhaps many have. I wouldn’t have noticed if they had gotten out and taken pictures. Nick is right. Not here.
“All right.” I nod slightly, my head almost hitting his we are so close. His mouth hovers just above my own, our breath creating one breeze that heats our faces and feeds the flames. Slowly, with his gray eyes locked on mine, Nick lowers his head enough for our lips to meet, and I sigh into him, pressing my body upward toward that heat I feel burning between us.
“Eve.” His mouth forms my name against my lips and I feel the sound of it inside me. The deep timbre of his voice sends a vibration down my throat to hum in my center that this is where I need to be. Right here, beneath Nicolas Donovan, on the side of Highway 83.
I smile against his mouth and whisper his name back to him. “Nicolas.”
“Hmmm,” he responds, and I wonder if he can feel my voice the way I feel his. “Time to go, sweet dove.”
But he doesn’t move. His eyes roam my face, ending on my mouth, and I see he has no intention of stopping, of driving me home or leaving the side of the road at all.
I nod my head in agreement with that thought and reach up to draw his mouth back down to mine. Heaven. We both moan in surrender, and our mouths seek each other in a dance that moves through our bodies until we are pressing into each other, searching for a release I can’t name but require to live. I know it. I will surely die if I don’t have him.
The sound of a honking car driving by silences that need, and I realize I won’t die of lack of Nicolas, but I may die of embarrassment.
Nick is still for a moment. Then I feel him shaking, followed by a deep chuckle that rolls up through him infecting me until we are both laughing. Slowly we disentangle and sit up, our arms still wrapped around each other, my heart full to bursting.
“You have me.” I breathe it against his neck, inhaling the scent of him and smiling as he turns his face to mine and kisses me slowly.
“You have me,” he repeats his earlier claim against my lips, and as the words tickle into me, I feel the depth of their meaning. I have him.
Chapter 16
My thoughts are all over the place on the drive back to Eve’s. I can’t seem to focus on one thing as I try to grapple with what just happened. Eve in the field, her face pale as if the blood had drained away. Kneeling in the dirt, shaking, and making a keening noise like she wanted to scream. Her eyes had been open and that had set the hairs on the back of my neck on end as if she hadn’t been seeing the world around her. Her mind was no longer in the field at all.
When she finally did speak, it was almost a scream. ‘No!’ The memory of her voice, begging someone to tell her her name, her fists striking at the soil as if she were beating at a wall. I thought I would explode. The anger that ripped through me was like lightning. Watching that scene was torture.
I had thought returning to the field would be a good place to start. Find a lead. Hopefully Eve would recall something that could point us in a direction. I hadn’t expected that, though.
The minute she knelt on the ground I had a bad feeling. When her eyes glazed over, my concern shot straight into fear that we were messing with her mind. She chose to forget. Dr. Eston had said it was psychological. What were we thinking trying to drag to the surface something purposefully buried?
The fear that she would meltdown, never come back, that I would lose the woman I knew as Eve to a place in her own mind she didn’t want to go, sent me down on my knees in the cornfield. Grabbing at her. Begging her to hear me. It was like I wasn’t even there. Her eyes had focused on me for a second and then gone hazy again.
When she fainted, I felt the anger consume me. Someone sent her into those woods. She ran for a reason. Forgot who she was on purpose. What the hell were we doing back here two days later to try and find something that clearly should remain forgotten.
I had scooped her into my lap and sat there. Pissed at myself for not thinking things through. For not asking someone who would know better how to handle the delicate state of an amnesiac’s mind. I had already promised to talk to Dr. Leesing. Sitting there, staring at Eve’s pale face as she retreated to a safe place inside, I knew I needed advice.
I couldn’t shake the anger. Eve stayed out for about five minutes, but it felt like hours. Each second ticking by made me wonder if she would come out of it. Should I take her to Dr. Eston? Take her home? I had no clue what to do. Would waking her up do damage? Would not waking her up do damage? I wanted to hit someone, something. But I knew I was more mad at myself than anything else. I brought her here. I let this happen. If I ever found whoever made Eve run, I swore to myself I would make sure they paid.
When Eve’s eyes flew open and she sat up, I sent a prayer skyward thanking all the angels she came back to me. Walking out of that field I couldn’t move fast enough.
Never coming back here. I would tie her to a chair before I let her come back.
I tried to talk myself down. I realized I was scaring Eve when I hit the truck, but I had no way to vent the fire that raged. Then I kissed her.
I had promised myself I wouldn’t. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop if I started. But it was too much, holding Eve as I carried her away from that spot in the field, looking at her sweet face as she tried to apologize. For what? Being hurt? Being scared? Being a victim? It was too much. So I kissed her.
The second I tasted her, the anger left. The heat inside turned to need, and I couldn’t get enough. I crawled on top of her, for Christ sake. And Eve returned every kiss, she pulled at me like she wanted to climb inside me. No man on earth would have been strong enough to resist that. Thank God that car blew its horn, or we would still be on the side of the road. With fewer clothes.
She said she was mine. I don’t know if she was quoting the words I had said earlier or if she meant she was mine. But it fixed everything. The anger, the fear, the helplessness. It all went away in an instant.
When did I turn into this guy? I’m a builder. I work with my hands. I like to fish, watch sports, hang out with family. Date now and again. I was never this guy.
But the need to protect Eve is like a calling. Her touch like a drug.
I shake my head and keep my eyes on the road. We haven’t spoken since we pulled away from Jensen’s field, but Eve has refused to strap into her seatbelt. She scooted across the bench seat to sit beside me, her head against my arm, the heat from her body searing us together like a welding iron. I try to stay in one gear to keep from disturbing her. I don’t want to move my arm to shift, afraid she will leave and break the connection, slide back over to the passenger side, and leave me empty and cold. I don’t know If I can handle
not touching her for a while.
As I pull down the long drive to Ms. T’s, Eve lifts her head from my shoulder and looks out the windshield. She doesn’t speak, and it suddenly occurs to me that as crazy as my thoughts are, Eve must be struggling to figure things out as well. I can’t imagine what she was feeling in that field, but I know it wasn’t good.
I pull the truck to the side of the main house and shut off the engine, turning to Eve who is now tilting her head up to look at me. Damn it. I can’t resist. I lower my head down to meet her lips with my own.
It’s amazing how perfectly our mouths fit together. She is so slight and soft, yet her little frame melts to me like we are a set. Standing, I tower over her, I sometimes feel like a brute beside her small stature, big and brusque and bumbling next to her natural grace. But when we touch, we fit. Perfectly.
Eve makes a small moaning sound that threatens to undo me, and I decide I don’t want to kiss her in my truck. No more hospital hallways or side of the road kisses. I want to hold her in my bed, any bed. At the very least, inside a home where we can be guaranteed some privacy. I pull back slowly and quickly catch Eve’s small hands as they reach up to pull me back to her.
“Let’s go inside, little dove.”
She smiles almost sleepily, and I can’t help returning her grin.
“OK, yes, inside.”
I open the driver door and step out as Eve slides across the seat toward me. I want to grab her, carry her into her house. Keep as much contact as possible. But I let her step down to the ground and content myself with taking her small hand in mine. Ezra and Ms. T surely have eyes peeking out windows. No need to feed more of the gossip chain than necessary.
As we approach the front porch of the carriage house, Eve’s head perks up and she raises the hand not clasped in mine to wave excitedly. “Laurel!”
I can’t help but feel disappointment at the sight of the tall blonde striding down the steps toward us. But Eve seems pleased to see her so I smile as she reaches us, clapping her hands together and nodding in approval.
“Well, you two are just about the hottest thing I’ve seen since Brad and Angelina.”
Eve tilts her head to the side and looks curiously at me, then back at Laurel. “Hot? Um, well…yes, I feel…warm. Who’s Brad and Angelina? Are they friends?”
Laurel looks stumped for a moment and the expression on her face makes me laugh. “No, Eve, they aren’t friends. They’re actors, like in the movies you watched.”
“Oh. OK.” She still looks a bit confused, but I decide the explanations of “hot” and reference to Brad and Angelina are best left to a woman.
“Laurel.” I nod and continue down the walk to the house, Eve still connected to my hand.
“Nick.”
Laurel winks and directs a pointed glance at our connected hands. I roll my eyes and climb the steps to the front door.
“What are you, twelve? We’re not in junior high.”
“Oh, yeah, sure. But I can say I haven’t held a boy’s hand since junior high.”
“Then Tuck is slacking.”
“Hmm, I’ll pass that along.”
Laurel skips through the door behind us, and Eve lets go of my hand to slip off her jacket. I hate that our moment is broken, but I have no intention of leaving so I settle in for a visit with Laurel. Eve and I have unfinished business. I’ll wait all day if I have to. I’m not leaving before I make it perfectly clear to her she is not ever going back to that field.
“Are you hungry?” I take Eve’s jacket and turn her face up to me with a finger under her chin. I need to see her eyes. Make sure she is coping. That the darkness has passed. Perhaps a visit with Laurel is the best thing. Kissing is a great distraction, but talking things out can be more therapeutic. Man, you sound like mom.
“Starving.”
Eve smiles up at me, and I see humor dancing in her eyes. Darkness gone. Eve is back.
‘Well, I can’t promise a gourmet five-course meal like Ms. T, but I order a mean pizza.”
“I haven’t had pizza. Is it good? Why is it mean?”
Laurel laughs and grabs Eve’s hand to pull her down the hall. “Show me the kitchen, sweetie. We’ll order pizza and beer and have a nice, long chat.”
Beer. Best thing Laurel has said yet.
It takes a few minutes of digging around to find a phone book, but I finally locate one in a desk drawer in the office. I spend another few minutes arguing with Laurel over who delivers and who has the best menu.
“Hey, wait a sec, Tuck dropped me off and was going to come back to meet Eve. I’ll have him grab the pizza and stop at the store for beer.”
“OK, just make sure he orders one with meat. No Hawaiian nonsense.”
“Hey, Hawaiian is the best. We’ll get two.”
Laurel pulls a cell phone from her purse, and I watch as Eve steps closer to watch her punch in the number.
“How does that work without a cord?”
Eve looks at me as Laurel grins and whispers, “It's magic,” then steps out of the kitchen to talk to Tuck.
“Well, do you want the short answer or the long answer?”
“I want to understand, so whichever one will do that.” Eve walks to the kitchen island and perches herself on a stool.
“OK, well”—I check the fridge for snacks to take the edge off while waiting for the pizza and hand Eve a bottled water—“ ‘cell’ is short for cellular, though I never understood why they call them that since that infers it is an organic living thing with cells. But what it does is it takes Laurel’s voice, “I nod to the hallway where we can hear Laurel chatting away about pizza toppings to Tuck, “and turns it into an electronic signal.”
The fridge holds a few kinds of cheese and some deli meat, so I take them out and set them on the counter while I hunt down a plate.
“You wanna open those? So then,” I continue, “the signal is sent by radio waves to a cell tower. That’s like a really big antenna. Cell towers are tall, metal things that are on hills all over the place all over the planet. The cell tower then sends the signal to Tuck’s phone and that phone turns the signal back into Laurel’s voice so Tuck can hear what she’s saying.”
“Oh.” Eve thinks about that for a second while she opens the cheese and meat packages, setting them next to the large plate I found in a cupboard.
“Um, what is a radio wave?”
I place the cheese and meat on the plate and start searching for the pantry, hoping to find crackers or bread. “Radio waves are like an invisible electrical sound wave. Like, um, well it’s hard to explain.” I realize that although I regularly use cell phones, radios, and electricity and have a working knowledge at a basic level of what they are, putting them into words is quite difficult.
“Radio waves are electromagnetic waves. Please don’t ask me to define that.” I stop Eve with a grin as she opens her mouth, then closes it. I shrug, “I’m only a layman here so bear with me. So, these waves have different frequencies that can be used to transmit sound. If I have a receiver, like a radio, and a transmitter like a radio station, then I can send music out over that frequency as far as my transmitter will allow. The stronger the transmitter, the further it will travel. So, then I could turn on a radio, tune it to that specific frequency and pick up the music. The sound comes out through the speakers and voila. Music and dancing.”
“You know,” Laurel pipes up from the hallway where she had been leaning against the doorjamb, “I never understood that till now. I mean, I think Mr. Peterson mentioned it in science class, but he should have told it like that and I would have remembered.”
“I had Peterson for science.” I grin at Laurel. “He did tell it like that, which is why I remembered.”
She laughs and walks over to pilfer from the cheese and crackers plate. “Well, I may have skipped that day. You know, Eve…”
She scoots onto a chair next to Eve who is happily eating crackers and sipping at her water with a thoughtful expression.
“You don’t have to know everything. I mean, no one really knows how cell phones work. We simply use them happily and take for granted that someone else thought them up.”
“But I want to know. It’s really interesting. Don’t you think it’s fascinating that radio waves are all around you, but you can’t see them?”
“Um, well, not really, but,” Laurel smile is wide, “I love that they bring on the dance.”
She hops from her seat and starts wandering around poking in cupboards and opening doors along the hallway.
“You have to have a radio in this joint. Nick, where’s the radio?”
I sigh and shrug my shoulders. “I like that you’re curious, Eve. Ask anything you want. I clearly may not have the answers, but if you stump me, we’ll Google it.”
“What’s Google?”
I choke on a cracker as I laugh at the question. “Wow, your list must have been really long before you started asking.”
“You have no idea.” She sighs and looks around the room. “Some of these things are just off to me.” She nods at the refrigerator. “Like that. I know what it is, what it does, but it’s so different than it should be in my mind.”
I look at the large stainless steel fridge with its double doors and ice and water dispensers. “Well, that one is pretty cool. It’s one of the latest models. If you had something older, then that would look quite different to you.”
“Why do you say ‘cool’, and why did Laurel say ‘hot’ to reference things that are not especially defined by temperature?”
I run an explanation through my head about colloquial speech before I offer an answer, but just as I open my mouth to speak, music blares from the speakers above the cupboards.
I hear Laurel call out from down the hall, “Found it!”
Coldplay is claiming he used to rule the world as Viva la Vida rings out through the whole house. Of course Ms. T would have a home stereo system with speakers in every room.