My Skylar

by Penelope Ward

  Kevin whispered in my ear. “That—right there—is precisely why I don’t want kids.”

  I wished I could explain to him that Henry couldn’t help it, that his autism trapped him inside his body and that he had tantrums because he couldn’t express his feelings. Instead, I said nothing. A gnawing feeling continued to eat away at me as we waited in line.

  ***

  My mother was president of the Kevin Blanchard fan club. Why wouldn’t she be? She knew how messed up I was when I left town, and she’d always been grateful to him for saving her little girl from the depths of despair. She also admired his success, and the fact that—unlike Oliver—he was loyal.

  She put her arm around me at the dinner table. We had just finished up her birthday cake. “As much as I hate to see you move away from me again, this job Kevin has accepted is one hell of an opportunity for both of you.”

  Kevin held up his wine glass in a salute. “Thank you for your support, Tish. I know Skylar doesn’t want to leave you, but I appreciate your understanding.”

  I downed my wine as my mother and he discussed the future being laid out for me. They had no clue that my mind was somewhere else completely.

  I hadn’t been able to get the encounter with Mitch today out of my head. It felt like my two lives collided in that grocery store. It was a physical manifestation of my mental tug of war: on one side, Kevin who was my brain and my perfect, safe haven…on the other, Mitch who was my heart and my flawed, deepest desire.

  “Tish, would you consider relocating out West in a few years?”

  “I might, if that’s definitely where you’ll settle.” She put her hand on my knee. “And if my daughter wants me around, of course.”

  It felt like my clothes were getting tighter by the second. Needing a breather from this conversation, I got up.

  “Excuse me. I need to use the bathroom.”

  I ran upstairs to my old bedroom, which was now my mother’s sewing room. Feeling like I might hyperventilate, I closed the door and clutched my stomach. When my breathing calmed, I noticed that Mitch’s bedroom light was on across the street. It was a comfortable summer night, and his window was open. I stared out into his room, which looked empty. A thin curtain blew in the breeze and slightly obstructed my view. My body flinched when his shirtless, statuesque frame suddenly appeared at the window. He stood facing me. Then, he waved.

  He saw me.

  I waved back. I couldn’t help but giggle.

  Mitch put something in his mouth, and I saw the light of a small flame at the tip. He was smoking something, but I couldn’t tell what it was.

  My phone was in my pocket and buzzed. I answered.

  Mitch’s voice sounded raspy and sexy as hell. “Are you stalking me, now?”

  “No, not really. What is that you keep putting in your mouth? You’re smoking something?”

  “Why are you so interested in what I’m doing with my mouth?”

  I closed my eyes. “Ugh…”

  “Sorry. Joke. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “So, what is it?”

  “I’m smoking a cigar, actually.”

  “I didn’t know you smoked cigars.”

  “I only do it once in a while. It calms me down when I’ve had a long day.”

  My mouth tingled at the thought of tasting cigar on his tongue. I shook my head to stop that train of thought.

  I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry about what happened earlier with Henry.”

  “Don’t be. He was fine by the time we got home. He’s fast asleep now.”

  “Good. I was worried about him.”

  “Where’s your guy?”

  “He’s downstairs.”

  “Why are you upstairs talking to me, then?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You sound like me when I got caught stalking you.” He made fun of his own excuse. “Gee, I don’t know what I’m doing here, Skylar.”

  “Except I’m not wearing a creepy hood and carrying explosives.”

  The sound of his deep laughter in my ear soothed me. “True. Very true. Seriously, why are you alone upstairs looking out the window?”

  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about things, about what happened today, about your job proposal. I needed a breather, so I could think straight.”

  He was silent for a while, and then I saw him take a puff of the cigar again. His voice was low…sexy. “I wish you could come over right now.”

  “Mitch…”

  “I know. I’m overstepping my boundaries again.”

  “That’s not what I was going to say.” I couldn’t believe what I was about to admit. “I wish I could come over, too.”

  He didn’t say anything, but I could hear his breathing quicken, and he seemed frustrated as he ran his fingers through his hair.

  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, Mitch, and I’m really confused.” I exhaled. It was the first time I admitted my feelings to him.

  “Skylar…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Take the job. Come to Virginia Beach with me.”

  I was silent.

  “Please,” he urged.

  He had just made what I already suspected abundantly clear: this wasn’t just a business trip. I knew it was so wrong, but my entire body was buzzing…because I had made my decision.

  “I’ll go.”

  CHAPTER 25

  MITCH

  It felt too good to be true. As I threw my clothes into the suitcase, I still couldn’t believe that Skylar agreed to go away with me. It would only be five days, but I would make the most of every last second.

  The logistical planning went into effect from the moment she said yes. That night, I literally put my cigar out and immediately went searching for beach rentals on the Internet. I had a hard-on the entire time just thinking about being alone with her away from here. I was going to need to control myself, or I’d blow it.

  With such late notice, properties were either unavailable or expensive. I eventually contacted a realtor the following week, and she found me the perfect place on Sandbridge Beach that cost an arm and a leg. The second I saw the photos of the inside, though, I knew it was the one. It didn’t matter how much it cost at that point.

  ***

  I got to Virginia Beach a day before she did. I had booked her a plane ticket but decided to drive down myself.

  Skylar was set to arrive at the work site any minute. A text came in from her when the plane landed. She had rented a car at the airport and went straight to a home improvement store to pick out paint. I’d already given her a copy of the floor plan, so we weren’t wasting time.

  The keys to the beach house were burning a hole in my pocket. I’d take her there tonight after our work ended for the day. I couldn’t wait to see her reaction.

  The weather was perfect, so we kept the front door to the property open while we worked to let the balmy, dry breeze in. The house smelled like sawdust and primer, so it was good to air it out. My guys had made great progress before I arrived, and everything was on target to be completed by the end of the week.

  A Steely Dan song played on an old boom box that was splattered with white paint. There were empty beer bottles everywhere. Technically, we weren’t supposed to be drinking on the job, but I let it slide this time. This job couldn’t have been more different from all previous ones. Case in point: every head in the place turned toward the doorway when Skylar walked in. She waved awkwardly when she realized the guys were all checking her out.

  She wore a short, gray skirt and a sleeveless blouse that had a bow in the front that begged to be untied. She looked very business-like, which was a huge turn-on. That get-up was like a grown-up version of the Catholic school uniform.

  I introduced her to all the guys and tried to ignore the once-overs they gave her as she shook their hands. What I did make sure to catch was the once-over she gave me. I was wearing beige cargo pants and no shirt. I couldn’t really tell what Skylar was thinking
lately when it came to everything else. The one thing I did know: she was as physically attracted to me as I was to her.

  She flinched when I put my hand on the small of her back and led her into the first completed room. “You made it in good time.” I reluctantly slid my hand slowly off of her.

  “Yeah. I was actually able to find some neutral paint colors in the bargain mistake section, so that will free up some money for other things.”

  I hadn’t realized how obvious my staring was until she interrupted it.

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Yeah. Paint, right?”

  “Yes. We should be all set. I put the gallons out front whenever you’re ready for them. I marked each can with a label indicating which room it’s for.”

  “You’re so organized. You want a full time job when we get back?” I joked.

  “And what would that be?”

  I wiggled my eyebrows. “You can be my personal assistant.”

  She looked down at my hands that were covered in primer. “And what exactly would that entail?”

  “It requires full-time residency, actually.”

  “Oh…in your house?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I see. What else?”

  “There’s sort of a dress code.”

  “Let me guess…a lack of dress?” She laughed.

  I fucking loved flirting with her.

  I hadn’t intended for this conversation to veer in the direction it had, but this was a good sign. It surprised me that she was playing along…until she cut it short.

  “I should head to the fabric store.”

  “Hey. You know I’m playing around with you. I promise to be good this trip.”

  She smiled. “I hear you.”

  I leaned against the doorway and as she walked away, I said, “Unless you tell me you want me to be bad. I’d be up for that, too.”

  She turned around briefly, her face flushed. “Goodbye, Mitch.”

  Getting through the next fifteen minutes without killing someone seemed like an impossible task because all of the guys wouldn’t shut up about how hot she was. They didn’t know anything about our past, although they should have put two and two together based on the massive tattoo of her name on my chest. Getting arrested for assaulting an employee was not on my list of things to do while here, so I gritted my teeth and controlled my fists as best as I could.

  It really did impress me how fast Skylar operated that first day. She decided she’d make all the curtains herself to stay within budget, borrowing a sewing machine from the wife of one of the local volunteers. She came back that afternoon with a massive amount of material and planned to spend the entire day tomorrow sewing at the beach house. She also visited a local consignment shop and scored some artwork for next to nothing.

  That night, we worked later than I had hoped in order to stay on deadline, but it would be the only late work night. By the time 10:00 rolled around, I was exhausted but exhilarated, knowing she’d be following me to the beach house. I threw my navy hoodie over my bare chest.

  She was hanging a couple of pictures on the wall of a room that had been fully painted. Her hair, which was perfectly coiffed earlier in the day, now fell loose and messy. Sexy. It was how I’d imagined it would look after sex. Fuck. I needed to get that thought out of my head before I got hard.

  “Ready to go?” I asked.

  Too late. Hard.

  She stepped down from the stool. “Sure.”

  Skylar followed me in her car. When I pulled up to the rental, my palms got sweaty because the place was a shitload nicer than expected. She would have a tough time believing that this was the house HM Construction paid for. Every red cent had come out of my own money.

  We parked next to each other on the gravel driveway and got out.

  She slammed the car door. The ocean air blew her hair around in wispy strands. She spit one out of her mouth. “What is this?”

  “What do you think?”

  “What’s going on?”

  I must have looked guilty as shit. “What?”

  “This house is—”

  “Let’s go in.”

  I reached into my pocket for the key and opened the front door.

  Her jaw dropped. “Okay…this is like that show Cribs on MTV minus the ten cars out front. Exactly how much money did your company spend on this place?”

  “I shut the door. We got a good deal. Don’t worry about it.”

  She dropped her bag lazily and walked around in awe. “This kitchen is way better than mine at home.” She ran her fingertips along the granite of the countertop. “I’m gonna make a nice meal for us tomorrow night.”

  Fuck. Yes.

  “That sounds great.”

  She covered her mouth and walked in silence over to the one thing I had been waiting for her to notice. She sat down on it. I walked over and joined her on the plush cushion. She turned to me. “I can’t believe you did this.”

  “Did what?”

  “You picked this place out and paid for it, didn’t you?”

  I sighed. “I did.”

  “Why?”

  Our faces were just inches apart. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen one day from the next with you, and I hate not being able to control that. I just wanted to have some time with you in the best possible place I could imagine. When you were sick, I never forgot where you told me your happy place would be: a reading nook overlooking the ocean. When I saw online that this house had one, I didn’t give a shit what it cost. I knew I had to get this one for you.”

  She lay back into the wall, kicked her feet up onto my lap and closed her eyes. She opened them and looked out at the waves crashing in the distance. “I don’t know what to say. I feel like I don’t deserve this.”

  “This is for me, too.” I looked out the window. “Do you remember where my happy place was?”

  She nodded. “Anywhere I am.”

  I lightly squeezed her shin. “I just want to be with you even if it’s just for a few days. No other expectations, okay? Please don’t worry about that. I want you to have a good time.”

  “Was any part of this trip really about the job?”

  I couldn’t lie to her. “What do you want me to say?”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “The Holiday Inn down the street.”

  She looked conflicted. “I know there’s plenty of room, but I can’t offer you to stay.”

  “I understand, believe me. I would never expect that.”

  “This is wrong, Mitch. This whole thing: my lying to Kevin, my taking this offer when I knew deep down it was more than work.”

  “Don’t you dare feel guilty, Skylar. After everything we’ve been through, we deserve this break even if it’s nothing more than that.”

  “I just wanted to spend time with you, too. I don’t know what it all means.”

  It pained me to have to lift her leg off of me and stand up. “Tell you what, it’s been a long day. I’m going to head back to the hotel and let you get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll call it quits with work early, do dinner and enjoy the beach. Don’t overthink this. We only live once. If we want to spend time together, that’s not a sin. Nobody’s getting hurt by that.”

  She stood up. Her blouse was wrinkled and halfway untucked. She was a beautiful mess.

  I licked my lips, wanting to kiss her so badly. “Make sure you lock up tonight.”

  “I appreciate all of the effort you put into this. I hope I didn’t come across as ungrateful.” She walked a few steps toward me. “I never thought I’d actually get to visit my happy place. Thank you for giving that to me.”

  If I didn’t walk away now, I’d never leave. I headed straight for the door. Then, I turned to look at her one last time. “Thank you for giving me mine.”

  ***

  The next day seemed to drag at work even though we’d gotten a lot done. All of the rooms were now drywalled and painted. Skylar had spent the entire day shopping for dé
cor or at the beach house sewing drapes. I missed her. I kept checking my watch to see how close it was to 3:00.

  I got to my hotel at 3:15 and took a quick shower. As the hot water beat down on me, my thoughts turned anxious. I only had four more nights with her. This trip was my chance to get her to see that we belonged together. But I promised her there were no expectations, and I didn’t plan to pressure her. I just wanted us to get closer organically, but there just wasn’t enough time.

  Skylar was expecting me at 4:00. She was making dinner, and we were going to take a walk on the beach at some point. I was giddy with excitement and a need to see her, to smell her, to touch her even if it were just a brush of her hand.

  I put on a black button down shirt and some dark jeans. I sprayed on cologne and slicked my hair back with gel.

  When I arrived at the rental, she opened the door, and my heart immediately started beating out of control. She looked good enough to eat in a tiny peach-colored dress. I wanted to wrap her in her my arms but instead tightened my fists and said, “You look nice.”

  “Thanks. So do you.”

  I walked toward the kitchen. “What is that I smell?”

  “It’s Chicken Cacciatore. I remembered you used to like it when your mother made it. I hope this is just as good.”

  “If you made it, I’m sure I’ll love it.”

  “Are you hungry now?”

  My eyes drifted down to her mouth and then her neck. “I’m starving.” I wondered if she could tell I wasn’t referring to the food.

  Her heels clicked against the tile floor as she walked over to a bottle of red wine on the counter, opened it and poured it into two stemless glasses. “Cabernet okay?”

  “Love it. Thanks,” I said, taking the glass from her and making sure to skim the skin of her hand. I took a sip. “Mmm.”

  “You want to take these up to the deck?”

  “Yeah, I’m dying to get up there to see that view.”

  She smiled and nudged her head to follow her. “Come on.”

  Two white Adirondack chairs sat on the gray wooden deck that overlooked Sandbridge Beach. It was like they were made for the two of us to sit in. We sat down and quietly sipped our wine. We gazed out at the rolling waves and listened to the sound of the seagulls. I stole glances at her beautiful side profile.