Where We Begin

by B. Avery

  It wasn't until they were cleaning up for the night, the sign flipped to 'Closed', most of the lights extinguished, and she was still barely talking to him that he finally pushed. “Love,” he put his hands on her hips, holding her in place before she could dart away from him again, “What is it?”

  “I was just... thinking,” she said softly, sounding miserable.

  “So, I gathered,” he pointed out, kissing the back of her neck just to remind her that he loved her. She sounded unhappy, but it didn't seem to be aimed at him.

  “Do you... want kids?” she asked in the silence, turning around to face him, her face hidden by the shadows. “Or even- I don't know- do you have kids?”

  His heart ached at her question although he didn't know why. He'd never given any thought to it before. When he'd pictured their future, he'd always just seen the two of them, but of course Carmine would want children. “No. I don't,” he told her, twining a lock of her hair around his index finger.

  Carmine dropped her head, breathing in sharply, “Alright,” she whispered, her voice strangely muffled, and he realized she thought he'd answered her first question.

  “No, I don't have children,” he elaborated, “As for wanting them... Do you, love?”

  It was a blatant stall for time. Everything about her posture and tone answered the question for her, but she still nodded, “Yeah.”

  He looked down at her crown of chestnut hair, trying to picture her with a swollen belly, and his heart nearly stopped when he succeeded. She'd glow with happiness, the curve of her body telling everyone who looked at her that she was his- his wife, the mother of his children, his Carmine.

  And the children... a daughter who looked just like her mother, all flyaway curls and bright blue eyes. A son with his reserve and Carmine's smile. He could see them so clearly it seemed impossible that they didn't yet exist. “I'll give you anything you want,” he vowed, voice hoarse, “If you want children, we'll have a dozen.”

  She laughed at that, finally meeting his eyes again, “A dozen might be overkill,” she pointed out, “We're not starting our own soccer league.”

  He leaned down to claim her mouth in a kiss full of promise. One day they'd be a family.

  The kiss didn't remain sweet and chaste for long. Carmine parted her lips for him in invitation, and he couldn't resist, pushing her deeper into the shop until they reached the fainting couch that had played a leading role in the dream he still thought back on with regularity.

  She used his tie to pull him down beside her, and their clothes had disappeared much more easily in the dream, but they managed. She got his jacket and shirt off of him with practiced ease although he had trouble taking his hands off her long enough to rid her of her blouse. “I dreamed about this,” he confessed, filling his hands with her breasts and brushing his thumbs over her nipples. “The night before your dance, I dreamed about us here like this.”

  Carmine whimpered, then kissed him fiercely, her tongue plunging deeply into his mouth as he fondled her. “Is it as good as you dreamed?” she panted when she had to pull back to breathe.

  “Better,” he grunted, hands tearing at the fly of her jeans before he finally managed to get them off her, taking her panties with them. Carmine kicked her feet to get her shoes off, leaving her gloriously bare beneath him, her eyes shining in the dim light. He bent his head to kiss her breasts, muttering against her skin, “I don't want to sell this damned thing anymore.”

  She giggled, her fingers weaving themselves through his hair to hold him in place, “You never will; it's hideous.”

  “You make it look good,” he said salaciously. Indeed, the purple velvet set off her skin to great advantage, heightening its porcelain glow.

  “Flirt,” she laughed breathlessly, parting her legs for him in shameless invitation, and he took the hint and slid his fingers deep, feeling how wet she already was for him. He wanted to take his time, to taste her everywhere and make her scream his name, but Carmine was already moving against him impatiently, reaching out to cup him through his pants, and slow would have to wait until next time.

  She undid his belt and helped him shove his pants and boxers down past his knees, then he thrust into her, nearly wild with the need to make her his again. She threw her head back with a cry, and he buried his face against her throat, sucking at the place where her neck met her shoulder and her shirt would cover up a love bite.

  He was being rough, moving harder and faster than he should, but he couldn't seem to stop, and Carmine didn't seem to care, moaning happily with each deep thrust. He grabbed her leg, coaxing her to wrap it around his hip so she could take him deeper, grinding against her at the height of each thrust.

  It was too intense to last long, and when he tore himself away from her throat to gasp, “I love you, Carmine,” she shuddered and cried out, her climax tearing his own out of him as he poured himself into her with a deep groan.

  “Oh!”

  Carmine's eyes met his, wide with terror, and that wasn't her voice he'd heard. He tightened his grip on her, holding her protectively against him and making sure the intruder couldn't see her body before risking a glance back over his shoulder to see Shauna Heron standing less than ten feet away, her body angled away from them as she stole glances over her shoulder, her face a picture of surprise and disgust.

  They'd never gotten around to locking the door.

  Beneath him, Carmine was sobbing, hiding her face against his shoulder and he stroked her hair, trying to offer whatever comfort he could. “It's all right, love. It's going to be all right,” he whispered. Looking back to Shauna, he tried to sound as dignified as he could with his pants around his ankles, “Would you give us a moment please?”

  She hesitated for a full minute, clearly not wanting to leave Carmine alone with him. Then with a guttural noise of disgust, she walked back towards the door, leaving them with the illusion of privacy. He sat up, pulling Carmine into his lap as she trembled, sobbing apologies with every breath, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It's my fault.”

  “No,” he kissed her forehead, holding her as tightly as he could, “Don't be sorry. I'm not.”

  He cradled her face, forcing her to meet his eyes, “This doesn't change anything. No matter what happens, I love you, and we are going to be together.” It was agony to let go of her, but they didn't have much time. He helped her gather her clothes before getting back into his own.

  Wiping her eyes, Carmine pulled herself together, reaching up to knot his tie for him. “I love you,” she whispered, holding his gaze with her own, “No matter what.”

  Bending down, he claimed her mouth, trying to memorize her taste. When they broke apart, he adjusted the chain of her necklace, hoping that having it would be a comfort during whatever was coming. Then he caught her hand in his and together they went to face Shauna.

  He squeezed Carmine’s fingers in reassurance, feeling her trembling as she let go and stepped away, disappearing through the door of the shop into the night.

  He watched until she was out of sight, then gave his attention back to Shauna who was looking at him like something she'd like to crush under her heel. ““You’ve known her since she was a child, haven’t you? How long has this been going on?” The rest of her words bled together and his heart began to pound painfully in his chest. “Come with me and don’t you dare try to deny anything. I’m sure the Deputy will have a few questions for you down at the station.”

  ****

  Deputy Arby looked horrified when Shauna marched Smith into the office. “Um... Shauna?”

  “He's sleeping with Carmine Mayberry!” she snarled, rounding on him with almost as much anger as she'd shown Smith himself.

  “Oh.” The sheriff's eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. “She’s not a minor, Shauna.”

  “I caught them together!” Shauna hissed, “I don't care how backward the laws in this town are; She’s been working at his goddamn shop over a year. God knows what this man has been
doing to her since then. I demand that you investigate this matter thoroughly.”

  Her words made Smith grind his teeth as he sat down on the narrow bench, wishing he had something to do with his hands.

  Inexorably, his mind turned to Carmine. The memory of the despair in her eyes curdled his stomach. He hoped she wasn't blaming herself. Her parents would be furious. There would be so many questions, and regardless of the truth, people would hesitate to believe it.

  Locking the damned door would no doubt have helped, but it would only have bought them time. He clasped his hands in front of him, staring fixedly at his own fingers as he let the argument between the sheriff and Shauna fade into background noise.

  He honed that thought obsessively for the next hour as he submitted to questioning. He didn’t have to but he did, for Carmine’s sake. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him break down. Carmine was strong and sensible. He had to trust that she'd be all right until he could get them out of the mess.

  Even so, he was not at his best when a redhead swept into the sheriff's office a few minutes later, a gleeful smile on her face as she dismissed Arby, leaving the pair of them alone. “I heard about your little misadventure,” she cooed, taking a seat next to him.

  “Yeah, Angelica, you did more than just hear about it, didn't you?” he growled, unable to find his usual cool detachment. The redhead was a competitor who had been after his shop for years but had never quite managed to get her hands on it.

  Her eyes widened in mock innocence. “Whatever do you mean, Mr. Smith?”

  “You know exactly what I mean. Miss Heron wasn't at the shop because she wanted to browse. You sent her.”

  “If something suspicious is taking place, it's my duty to my fellow townspeople and loyal customers to help,” she smirked.

  The thought of Carmine being in any danger at his hands was laughable. She was the one with the real power in their relationship. She held his heart in her hands, could destroy him with a word, and from the satisfied expression on her face, Angelica was well aware of that.

  “Why don't we make a deal?” she suggested when it became obvious he wasn't going to respond to her taunt. “I could make these questions go away.”

  She dangled the bait in front of him, and he did as she wished and sniffed at it, “And in exchange?”

  She shrugged, “All I want is your shop and its contents. At a very reasonable price.”

  “What are you asking me?” he demanded, already frustrated with the nonsensical conversation. “You know I would never sell to someone like you.”

  “You won’t?” she smirked, and it didn't sound like a question,

  “No,” he bit out.

  “Maybe you need more incentive.” A malicious smile crossed her face, “Maybe you’ll lose that girl of yours. What a shame. After all, nobody really knows what happened behind the doors of your shop all these years. Twenty years between you both too.”

  He was on his feet before he realized he'd decided to move, clutching the bars of his cell in bloodless fingers, his teeth bared. “You will leave her alone,” he snarled.

  “Or you'll do what?” she mocked, her voice high and childish, “You're the one on trial, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  She was just out of reach, which might have been for the best because if he could get his hands on her, Smith was reasonably sure he'd snap her neck. He'd stew in jail for the rest of his life before he let her lay a finger on Carmine. “I won't be for long,” he threatened.

  “These things take time,” Angelica pointed out, “Who knows what could happen while you're here?”

  That was the crux of the problem. He was powerless to protect Carmine from whatever she had in mind. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, stalling for time. “Is the shop really worth ruining a young girl’s life?”

  “I don't like to share.” She folded her hands neatly in her lap, one eyebrow raised.

  She was threatening Carmine because she wanted his shop? The woman was insane. “Then this is between us. Leave her out of it.” He inhaled deeply, hating what he was about to do. He lowered his head, deliberately taking a submissive posture. If the woman wanted power, let her think she had it over him. Swallowing a mouthful of bile, he added, “Please.” It was as close as he could bring himself to begging, but perhaps she'd be satisfied.

  Angelica inhaled, her eyes going curiously blank for a moment, her face waxy, “Fine.”

  Smith blinked, thinking that had been far too easy. “You'll not hurt Carmine?” he pressed, wanting to be sure she was agreeing to what he'd asked.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Angelica replied, a hollow note in her voice.

  “Then I believe this conversation is over,” he pointed out, waving a languid hand at the door before reclaiming his seat on the cot, dismissing her. She left without another word, leaving him to try to make sense of the bizarre interview. She'd gotten him to beg, and she hadn't lorded it over him. It went against everything he knew about her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  He'd heard nothing about Carmine, but Shauna was very careful never to mention her within earshot. He was counting the minutes until he could see her again and verify for himself that she was alright.

  Shauna stood in front of him, a thick sheathe of papers in one hand. “Here,” she thrust the papers at him, “You'll want to read these before you go anywhere.”

  He took the packet, quickly skimming the words. “It's a restraining order,” she informed him like he was incapable of reading, “If you get within two hundred yards of Carmine Mayberry, I'll have your ass locked up so fast you won't have time to smirk. No phone calls. No emails. No texts. No contact. Her parents are furious and they’re willing to do anything to keep you away from their daughter until the truth comes out.”

  He thumbed through the packet, his heart sinking. He didn't know how she'd done it, but Carmine’s parents had made sure he wouldn't be allowed near her. How had they managed to convince her to agree to all this? To get a restraining order against him. Shauna handed him a key through the bars, and he realized it was Carmine's shop key. “She doesn't work for you anymore.”

  His hand tightened around the key as he clenched his jaw, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing him react. Resentfully he wondered if she'd given any thought to how Carmine was supposed to pay for her final semester without her income from working summers at the shop. God knew her parents couldn't afford it.

  He took the key and walked out of the station without a backward glance, ignoring the people milling around outside. There was only one face he wanted to see, and he couldn't imagine she'd been allowed to be there. Even so, he stole glances at every brunette he saw on the walk home, willing her to have found some way to let him see her.

  Her presence was denied him, and as soon as he'd locked himself in his house, his shoulders slumped. There had to be a way out of this, but he felt so beaten down he couldn't think of anything.

  He closed his eyes and leaned against the shower wall, letting the scalding water wash away some of the grinding unpleasantness of the last few hours and trying to pretend this was all some kind of nightmare. He'd walk into the bedroom to find Carmine curled up and pouting at him for taking so long, and they could get back to enjoying their life together.

  He shaved and dressed, unable to spend another moment in the empty house. The shop was equally unthinkable. He didn't even want to imagine having to be there without Carmine's constant presence. That left only the cabin, which wasn't much better. No matter where he went, he'd be inundated by memories of her. Once he'd loved the fact that he could feel her everywhere he went. Now that she'd been taken from him, those images were nothing but torture.

  Still, he had to go somewhere, and he wasn't about to show his face in town. The loss was still too raw, and he didn't need the local gossips calling attention to it. Instead, he drove.

  The air in the cabin felt different as soon as he walked in, Carmine's presence an almost tangible thi
ng. It seemed that if he just turned his head fast enough, he'd catch sight of her, ready to throw herself into his arms and make a fuss over his sojourn at the station.

  He avoided the stairs and headed straight for the kitchen, taking down the teapot in hope that the tannins would settle his nerves. As he took off the lid to fill it, a flash of white caught his attention. Reaching down, he pulled out an envelope, his fingers trembling.

  Tea forgotten, he sat down at the table, turning the envelope over in his hands. It was from her; it had to be. A faint smile crossed his face as his brain finally started working again. Carmine had handed over her shop key to Shauna, but she clearly hadn't volunteered her keys to the cabin or the house. They could make this work for them.

  Unable to wait another moment, he ran his finger under the seal, withdrawing a letter written in Carmine's looping script.

  I tried to talk my parents out of the restraining order, but they were very insistent. They threatened to disown me. I told the sheriff that was our first time, and I seduced you, and that you had never been inappropriate with me, but I don't think she believed me. I'm sorry I wasn't more help.

  He brushed his fingers over the words, unable to help his affectionate smile. Even after all this, she was still trying to protect him.

  Dad's watching me like a hawk, but I'll be able to get away sometimes, even if it's just to exchange letters. I hate the thought of not being able to talk to you for a year. I'll miss everything else too, but I think I'll mostly miss the talking. This doesn't change anything for me. I'll wait for you. Once I graduate, I’ll get a job and an apartment, no one will be able to get in the way again.

  Such a clever girl, he thought with pride. She'd thought of a way around the no-contact order that had never occurred to him. A letter was small comfort when he wanted to hear her voice and see her smile, but it was a thousand times better than no contact at all.