by Gina Sturino
“Charming, huh?” Dane nodded to an aqua colored hand towel that had been molded into the shape of a heart and placed on top of the bed. Two gold foil-wrapped chocolate candies sat in the center. He set his wine glass on the wooden mantle and flipped the switch to the gas fireplace. It flickered to life, casting a yellow glow against the cream-colored carpet. “Want to check out the view?”
I followed him to the sliding glass door that stood a few feet from the foot of the bed. Assessing the placement of the bed and the patio door, I guessed we could see the sunset from bed.
The small patio held a black metal table with two matching chairs and overlooked the frontage road. The beach and ocean were in the distance, beyond the parking lot and sidewalk.
Dane pulled a heavy iron chair out for me and positioned it to face the sea. The sun had begun its descent, igniting the sky with streaks of pink and red over the ocean’s white caps. I glanced to Dane, who’d taken a seat on the other chair.
“Beautiful view,” I whispered.
“It is.” His eyes locked on mine as he brought the plastic cup to his lips. He then abruptly pulled it away. “Wait! We haven’t toasted yet.” He sat still for a few seconds. “To you, the woman who has brought… goodness to my life.”
“You too, Dane,” I whispered.
Clinking glasses, we each took a sip from our cups. The wine was a dessert red, the kind I could only have a few tastes of before it became overwhelmingly sweet. I swirled the glass and brought it to my nose to sniff, thinking back to the first time Dane and I shared a glass of wine together on the night we made cookies. Only a few weeks in, and we’d already made a series of cherished memories.
I’d never forget a minute spent with this man.
I took another sip, then noticed Dane had set his glass down. “It’s good. You don’t like it?”
He watched me carefully, studying my face with an intensity that made my skin warm. I averted my eyes. When he spoke, his voice was so low I had to watch his lips as he formed each quiet word.
“You’re a kind of goodness I haven’t seen in a long time, not since I was young. Childhood seems so long ago. I’d forgotten what it’s like, what goodness feels like. Being with you takes me back. Makes me believe again. God, I want this. I want you, but—” He blew out a long breath of air.
“But?” I asked quietly.
“You’re a bright light. A bright star in a dark sky. My life has been dark for so long. I don’t want to be the one that burns you out, steals your light. But I can’t walk away.”
“Then don’t.”
“Nova, we haven’t known each other long, but I know you. I know myself. For the first time in far too long, I’m thinking about more than just me.”
“I don’t understand—” I snapped my lips shut, unsure what he saw in himself that made him feel so wrong for me, unsure whether I wanted to know. I stared ahead and sighed. “I don’t understand what’s holding you back. You’ve also brought goodness to my life. Two weeks, that’s all it’s been, but—” Now it was me hesitating, stopping because I couldn’t find the proper words to express myself.
Beyond goodness, Dane ignited passion, a deep stirring in my soul. A desire that transcended lust. He made me feel alive. He made me want more. A future, a family. Roots and plans.
Dane picked up the abandoned wine glass and gazed at the setting sun. “The tat on my chest—the bow and arrow—my buddy and I got them together before a mission. Nick’s is crossed arrows, a symbol of friendship. Mine’s a bow and arrow, signifying protection, a primitive way to eliminate a threat. I was Nick’s right-hand man, and the arrow on my shoulder pointed to him. I would have given up my life for him. As soldiers, we take an oath, but Nick and I went beyond brothers in arms. We were closer than brothers.”
The emotion on his face told as much of his story as the words he spoke. He stared ahead to the water which sparkled under the sun’s fading shine. The briny wind picked up, making Dane’s low, quiet voice even harder to hear. I leaned closer as he continued.
“Nick and I got these before a mission, a particularly tricky mission. One of the most important seaborne invasions in history, and everything had to align to make it a success. Strategists detailed strict requirements, silly as it sounds—the phase of the moon, the strength of the tides, the time in which we’d act. If any one of those factors weren’t perfect, the mission would be postponed. But, as fate had it, everything went as planned… until it didn’t. I’ll spare you the details, but war-time planning, no matter how detailed or strategic, doesn’t take into consideration human reaction, human emotion. Planning on paper doesn’t translate to planning in action. Nothing can prepare you for that chaos. The chaos of humanity.”
The sadness in Dane’s eyes brought tears to my own. I wanted to reach over, to grasp his hand, or cover his body with my own and take away his pain. But I feared the slightest move would break the spell, and I desperately wanted to hear more, to learn more.
“The mission was a success, yet I look back with regret. So much passes through you when you are thrust into the middle of war, when you witness death and destruction, when you are the cause of death and destruction. Following orders without question, doing what’s necessary to protect your brothers and yourself. At what cost? Being evil to defeat evil? How do I justify it? Those are the questions I can’t answer. Acting on emotion rather than logic—that’s the sin I cannot forgive.”
Sparse streetlights barely provided enough illumination to see beyond Dane’s face as the sun set. A single tear rolled down my cheek. A tear for him, his pain, and his regrets. I held no judgement, no fear or condemnation, only compassion for the man who was so obviously hurting from his past.
“After that mission, this tattoo,” Dane said, thumb jutting toward his chest, “came to represent something else. No longer my buddy’s protector, it came to symbolize the hunter I became. The need I felt on that mission to find and destroy, rather than serve and protect. Nick is the only one who knows this; he’s the only one I’ve been able to talk freely and openly to. Until today. Until you.”
“He’s alive?” I whispered. I had assumed Dane’s deeply rooted pain stemmed from Nick’s death. I breathed in, then delicately asked, ‘Your friend Nick, do you and him keep in touch?”
“I owe him a lot.” Dane turned to fully face me. A small smile graced his perfect face. “He’s the one that set me up with the studio in Milwaukee. He married your neighbor.”
I blinked upon Dane’s reference to Mirabel. Suddenly, clear as day, I recalled a conversation.
“You took a strange guy home? He’s there now? Some weirdo you met at the Metro Mart?”
“Weirdo, no. He’s like a freaking Greek god. I mean, seriously, you should see him. I could bounce rocks off him.”
I lifted a finger to my temple. The words grew louder and stronger as I closed my eyes.
“Mira, being good looking does not make someone a good person. This sounds really creepy. Who picks up women at a grocery store? Wait, did you say he’s a soldier? Mira, he’s trying to get laid. You know it, come on. Ditch him and meet me.”
“I, um, I warned her about him. I didn’t know him, but Mira and I were friends. Oh Dane, I remember now, a conversation I had with her. The day she met him, I told her to ditch him and meet me instead. He was a soldier on leave in Milwaukee, and I told her… I thought he was trying to get laid. Now they’re married,” I said in awe, then frowned, thinking back on how I brushed off her excitement. So wrapped up in myself, my career, I didn’t make the time or effort to meet my friend’s boyfriend. “I never really got to know him.”
“Well, to be fair, I’ve never met Mira. Tell me more about her,” Dane directed, watching my face as excitement flushed my cheeks. Talking about Mira brought a sense of security and contentment that warmed me. “You couldn’t remember her name a few days ago; now you’re recalling conversations. Did you guys have a falling out? Nick hasn’t told me much. They’re overseas. He warned interne
t and phone service was spotty. I haven’t been able to get in touch with him the last few weeks.”
“She’s—” I stopped, cocking my head in thought as my right hand gingerly swept along the scar at my temple. It trailed to the trio of freckles on my collarbone, then further down to my hip, stopping at my tattoo.
“She’s happy,” I said, rolling her name over in my head. Flowers and giggles. Mother and child. Peace and contentment. Try as I may, I couldn’t pull up more. “We didn’t have a falling out. We must’ve drifted apart.”
“It happens. There’s always time to reconcile, reach out and close the gap.” Dane pushed up from the chair. “I should grab our bags from the car. Let’s move inside. We can get delivery and eat by the fire.”
After Dane left to retrieve our suitcases, I sunk into one of the oversized lounge chairs and stared blankly at the crackling fire. I wondered whether Dane was right. Was there time to reach out to Mira? To close the gap? She’d just gotten married and was starting a new life with her new husband. What purpose would it serve, especially now, while they were in the honeymoon phase?
“You’re happy, Mira, and it gives me peace knowing that you’re finally happy.” I whispered the words into the fire, hoping that somehow, through the many miles, she’d hear my message.
Twenty-Six
After a late dinner of cashew chicken and egg foo young, Dane and I were too full and tired to do anything more than slip into pajamas and climb into bed. I woke the next morning tucked in Dane’s arms.
So, so much better than a suitcase.
“Morning,” Dane murmured into my messy mop of hair. “That’s the best sleep I’ve had since Monterey. Something about the wind and waves. Salt in the air. It’s a powerful force. I slept like a baby.”
Wind and waves. Salt and air. A powerful force. I stiffened, the reference feeling strangely ominous, oddly familiar.
“You okay?” Dane asked, loosening his hold over my rigid body. He shifted to peer at my face. “What’s wrong?”
Shaking my head, I closed my eyes, desperate to fill the blank spaces in my mind. The flashes came and went too quickly to decipher. My finger traced the faded gash at my forehead. “The doctor assured me there’d be no lasting damage from the concussion, but I keep having these weird memories. Snippets, here then gone before I can really grasp them.”
“Healing takes time,” Dane said. Now he traced a finger over the barely-there scar. “Your mind will mend. Don’t rush it. Vacation is a time to slow down.”
“No, no rush.” The world could stand still, and I’d be fine stuck in place with Dane.
“Oh, I take that back; I think Josie said breakfast is served until nine—looks like we have ten minutes. I’ll run down there and bring some pastries up. And coffee. Can’t forget coffee.” He leaned in, placed a kiss on my forehead, then jumped from bed. “Be back in a minute.”
The door closed behind him, and I rolled to my side, eyeing the sun-filled patio. Sighing from sleepy contentment, I smiled at how perfect my first vacation was going. The simplicity of coffee and pastries in bed with the man I… loved?
I love Dane.
Flipping onto my back, I grinned goofily at the vaulted ceiling. I love him. The fan spun, blowing over my face and making the wispy hairs along my forehead tickle my flushed skin.
It might’ve been quick using a word as strong as love, and things might’ve been a bit messy with Dane, yet I could not deny it. I loved him. Sure, we had obstacles, but did love ever come wrapped in a perfect package? My life was anchored in Milwaukee, and Dane had a long-term commitment in Monterey. It would require give and take.
I’ll take the good with the bad.
The door swung open, and my head jerked in its direction.
“Josie told me to take extras,” Dane called. A tray with two coffees and a plate piled with at least five pastries balanced on one hand as he pulled the key from the knob with his other. “I got one of each.”
Hoisting to a sitting position, I scooted back against the headboard. Dane set the tray at the foot of the bed. “In bed or outside?”
“Let’s stay inside,” he said, nodding toward the door. “The sunshine is deceiving. There’s still a fog over the sea. It’s pretty chilly out.”
He climbed next to me, and then reached to hand over a cup of black coffee. Steam rose from the liquid. I put it to my lips to savor its rich aroma and taste.
“It’s just not right,” Dane said, shaking his head. “You make everything look so damn sexy. Drinking wine, sipping coffee. I could watch you all day.”
My cheeks pinkened. I knew I was an attractive woman, but Dane made me feel so beautiful, so wanted, like a treasured piece of artwork. The way he studied me, not just my face, but each feature, as if trying to commit every detail to memory.
As if he worried, I’d someday be just that, a memory.
“After breakfast, do you want to hit up the beach? We can check out the Mavericks surf spot,” Dane asked, oblivious to the effects of his compliments.
“Mavericks?”
“Yeah, although Josie said the waves are unusually tame. With the current surf conditions, might not be worth the drive. We can check out some of the beach trails around here. Up to you. She gave me a few maps, circled some cool spots.” He shoved half of a chocolate donut into his mouth.
“Sure, sounds good.” I took a bite of a vanilla frosted long john.
“People usually come here for the big waves, but Josie said when the sea goes still, you find peace in Half Moon Bay.”
I stopped chewing.
“I guess I see her point. It’s calming.” Dane shrugged and took another bite.
“Say that again?”
“It’s calming.” He popped the rest of the donut in his mouth.
“No, the other part. What did Josie say?” I whispered, heart thumping.
Dane watched me carefully, taking a moment to swallow his mouthful of food. He cocked his head. “When the sea goes still, you find peace in Half Moon Bay.”
I’d like to think it’s a coincidence, but I’ve come to learn nothing is ever a coincidence.
The words echoed in my head again, but instead of heeding it as a warning, I pushed into the inn’s lobby, certain weird forces were at play.
Josie was hunched over the refreshment station. Her turquoise and white chiffon cardigan floated over a short sundress. Gold bangles at her wrists clinked against one another as she continued to pile coffee cups.
“Josie?” I asked. My stomach twisted into knots. “Sorry to bother you.”
She turned around, smiling with a knowing tilt of her chin. “Good morning, darling. Sleep well?” Her chestnut eyes matched the curls that drifted over her shoulders. In the daylight, she appeared a lot younger than I originally thought.
“I did, thank you. But, um, I’m wondering, is there a place around here with live music? Someone who sings… Do you know…” I trailed off, hesitating.
“Live music?” Confusion creased her brow. “Sure, there are a few places. I have my favorites, of course—"
“Do you know someone named Neal?” Dane interrupted.
After an obvious pause, she said, “I didn’t realize it last night, but now I see the resemblance.” She began to smooth the pile of napkins, turning so her back was to me. “I know Neal.”
And Neal… I fear far greater for him. Words from the past echoed in my head, along with a vivid yet quick flash of Lucille, the caution in her tone and the concern written on her face as crisp as a picture. I gasped, and my hand shot up to press against the scar at my temple.
“Nova, are you okay?” Dane’s hand touched my elbow, steadying me. “Here, sit. Josie, do you mind getting some water?”
Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes, desperate to calm myself. Over the last few weeks, memories seemed to flutter nonsensically in and out of my head, but now they were coming quicker and harder. The voices and images becoming clearer and stronger.
“Here, darling.”
Josie offered a glass of water. She leaned in to hand me the cup. Her trio of gold bangles slid down her arm to her hand, exposing the inner part of her wrist where I could see three dots that formed a perfect triangle.
Instead of grabbing the offered cup, my hands flew to cover the matching freckles on my collarbone.
Josie studied me, eyes round with remorse and concern. She set the cup down.
“Nova?” Dane crouched beside the chair. “Come on, let’s get you up to the room.”
“Oh, darling. Are you okay?” Josie asked, her fingers gently skimming my bare arm.
“Where can she find Neal?” Dane cut her off. They locked eyes before both turning to me.
“He sings every night at the Broken Board Café,” Josie replied softly. “Every night, Nova. I hope you can help him. And maybe he can help you too.”
Dane led me back up the stairs. My legs shook from the weird images that continued to plague me.
But more so, my entire core shook from the knowledge that Neal was here.
Neither Dane nor I acknowledged the bizarre exchange with Josie. We crawled back into bed where Dane held me tightly until my body released the tension that had built up between my temples and shoulders.
Once my breathing leveled, Dane spoke. “Do you want to see him?”
“I need to. Oh, Dane, how did he and I drift so far apart? He’s my brother for goodness-sake, my twin! Did you see how Josie looked at me? He needed help, and I was too focused on my career to make sure my own twin was okay.”
Dane drew in a breath, and then released it slowly. The cozy scent of coffee and donuts brushed against my cheeks, and I closed my eyes, immediately feeling less overwhelmed.
“Let’s take a walk. You’ll probably need a light jacket. The fog’s starting to lift, so it should warm up soon. Fresh air will do us both good.” He lifted my chin with his index finger, then leaned in to kiss my forehead.