“Hello, Darlin’. You look pretty.” Priscilla kisses my cheek, the smell of wine on her breath.
“Here, we brought you a glass.” Lainie says as she pushes past me and presses a glass into my hand.
I’m stunned they are coming in; the men are expecting us in about five minutes. “Um…don’t we have to meet the guys?” I questioned, pointing behind me and meaning much further than the door.
Claire is seated on the edge of my bed, her legs crossed, leaning back on her left hand. “Audrey, one thing we will show you is how to make a gentleman anxious to see you.” She took a drink as the other ladies nodded in agreement.
“Those men are sitting around the bar, ordering a beer and talking about three things.” Lainie added, pointing her glass in my direction. “First, they are talking about how their bikes handled the trip,” Claire spoke. “Then, about how Austin is acting like a long tailed cat in a rocking chair factory.” I had noticed his nervousness when we pulled u, but ignored it. “And third, they’re discussing what happens if Chase makes you cry again…they’ll break both his legs.”
“And for that reason, we are going to relax up here for a few minutes, giving them all the time in the world they need to talk about us while we talk about…you.” Priscilla has such an eloquent way of arranging her words to not only convey what she needed to say, but also to hide her intentions until it was too late.
“The boys have shared the basics with us, how you came to work for them and such. That dreadful woman from the shop dropped a few more facts about you, but we have questions of our own.” Clarity is a monstrous thing, bringing with it not only the understanding of something you’re seeking, but also others true meanings. These ladies possessed class—a fact which doesn’t exclude them from being busy bodies. Each was gifted with a fierce love and devotion for their family, and were willing to do anything, and everything, they could to protect it. I was a literal stranger in their eyes and they would not stop until they dragged the information from me.
“Such as?” I remained respectful, yet sent a message of my own; I was not going to cower at their feet and cry.
“Relax, we have good intentions.” Claire tried to soothe. I knew all too well the kind of goodness this family represented. With loyalty comes passion and protection, all swirled together to create a force so mighty, it’s tough to beat, and even less forgiving when wronged.
Giving nothing away, I fixed my focus on the leader of the pack. “Audrey we all know you had a difficult upbringing, it’s written in the fibers of your personality. Setting the hardness aside, what did you want to be when you grew up?” I had expected the time-honored speech about avoiding anything to hurt or shame Chase and the family. Asking something so personal never hit my radar. “What did you dream of doing when you were a little girl?”
My first grade teacher, Mrs. Goodson, was an elderly lady who commanded a room like an Army General. She had such a passion for reading, which she shared with all of her students. Every day she would pull us into a circle and read to us. Not just reciting the words from the page, but making the characters come to life, changing her voice and, on occasion, wearing different hats or glasses. I would go home and tuck away in a corner, trying to imitate her and the way she spoke. Toward the end of the school year, she had us make up a story of our own. We went around the circle, each adding to the words of the one before us. It was that summer I created my first children’s book. As I grew older, my tastes changed with my age, but the love of a good book has never left me.
“I’ve always been a storyteller, creating pictures in my mind, and then putting them to paper or sharing with the four walls around me.” When I started seeing Lucas, he made fun of my reading, said any decent book is made into a movie so you might as well just watch television. I didn’t argue with him, even though a multitude of incredible books wait on the shelf and have never, or will never, entertain us on the big screen.
“I’ve always wanted to write children’s books.” Memories flood my mind as I say the words; puppies and kittens playing with children as they tumbled and tried to solve the mysteries I created for them. “But I didn’t know how to get started. Instead, I began thinking I could go to school to be a chef, working in resorts like this one, and create art using food for people to enjoy.” I’d started culinary school here in Charleston when Granny got sick and I had to take care of her. Family, who had once surrounded her at supper and dinnertime, couldn’t be found when she was sick in bed and dying. Years of hateful words and being cussed at, and I was the one who held her hand as she took her last breath. “But the culinary world is dominated by males, which is kind of ironic if you think about it. History has shown us women spend their days in the kitchen, preparing meals for their family. Yet, to be famous and considered a chef, you stand a better chance if you’re male.”
Priscilla wrinkled her brow, jerking her head several times, “You know, I’ve never really thought about it, but you’re right.” Taking the last of her drink, she set the glass on the granite table top, her mind still pondering my theory.
“You know if you wanted to get into writing, I could build a webpage for you. I’m sure my boss will cut you a good deal, since he knows you.” Having a pretty webpage is nice, but when you have no product, that’s all it is, something nice to look at. “And Heidi has a few friends who are trying to build their portfolios. I bet if you give them credit, they would draw any picture you wanted.” They made it sound so simple, but if living as I have for the past few years has taught me anything, its favors come with a price.
“Okay, we’ve overwhelmed her enough. Audrey you have an entire team ready to help, just say the word. For now, let’s go soak up some vitamin D and have a cold drink with some hot men.” You never know what to expect out of Priscilla, never a curse word and most definitely not the phrase, “hot men.”
Leaving the comfort of the air-conditioned hotel, the glass doors slide apart, letting in the heat and humidity of the Florida beach. The roar of the ocean waves drowns out the music coming from one of the bars around the massive pool. Waitresses in the same blue from the pillows scamper around the pool deck, delivering ice cold beverages to sun worshipers. The unmistakable fragrance of sunscreen, coconut, and other tropical mixes, fills my senses with memories of summers spent in Savannah. Our neighbor spent most of her day in the back yard covered in oil. I’ve avoided the sun as much as possible, fearing the pain of sunburn, which always comes when the sun sinks below the horizon.
Wet bodies glisten in the bright sunlight, but four particularly handsome backs stand out in the sea of tanning skin. Chase and his brother’s lean against the far edge of the pool, beers in their hands, and sunglasses covering sensitive eyes. I now have a unobstructed view of the ink that had peaked out of the top of his collar. In an old English script are the letters, USMC. The top edge of the filigree M is what teased me for the past five hours. His right arm is filled with various designs and symbols, including a rosary intertwined with a slideshow of his past.
“Audrey?” Claire calls my name, grabbing my attention away from the man who has so much to offer, and even more to lose being with me. Lucas is a bottom dweller, he steals, lies, and cheats, but when he thinks he’s been wronged, he’s like a pit bull, sinking his teeth into something and not letting go.
Patting a chair beside her, as the men wading through the water joining their girls along the side. “Where’s your suit?” Priscilla questioned as I sat on the edge of the lounger, tucking my dress under my legs.
“I don’t own one.” I respond honestly. Being poor isn’t a sin, but lying about it will send you straight to hell. I’ve spent enough time there.
“Well, come with me and let’s rectify this.” Priscilla swings her bare legs to the side, but I’m quick to stop her.
“No, thank you, Miss Priscilla. I’m perfectly fine as I am.” She’s someone who is used to fixing her problems with a swipe of a credit card or handing over cash. I’ve found doing without
never killed anyone. If I’m going to stand a chance at taking my life back, I’m starting with opening my mouth and giving honest answers. Priscilla must recognize determination when she sees it, as she resumes her position on her chair, wide brim hat now covering the delicate skin of her face.
“Lainie Faith, get over here and let me remind you how much I love you.” Austin and the guys were now less than two feet away. All four were looking like they were carved out of marble, everything chiseled perfectly. Lainie rose from her chair, bright orange bikini highlighting what god gave her. As she nears the edge, Austin holds up his arms and catches her as she jumps into the cold water, smothering her with a smoldering kiss that receives a round of applause.
“Audrey,” Claire scoots over to the chair Lainie vacated, her baby blue bikini giving her perfect skin a glow. “Something you said upstairs got me to thinking.” She glances quickly at Dylan who has taken a phone call, his back to us now. Chase is talking with Dean about something on his phone. “You wanted to be a chef, but didn’t because of the whole male thing? The same thing is true in nursing, most are women so I guess that balances it out.” She chuckles, swatting at a fly that landed on her tan leg. “How do you feel about the traditional family from years ago? You know when the mother stayed home and took care of not only the cooking, but the house and kids?”
I looked past her at Priscilla, the June Cleaver of southern parents. She raised three boys with a gentle soul and a powerful spirit. “I believe if the mother is able to stay home with the kids, she should as long as possible. At least until the children are of school age where they don’t need as much parental involvement. I like the idea of a warm house with dinner on the table, pressing pause on the world outside and coming together as a unit. Mom’s and dad’s being more than just team captains, but true role models of how we should treat one another, living every day the way they preach to their children.”
Claire’s smile is electric and when I turn back to the men in the pool, all eyes are on me, listening to the idle rambling of a poor girl with big dreams. She doesn’t wait for Dylan to invite her over, she takes the two steps and slides into the space between him and the edge of the pool.
“Momma?” Dylan calls. Priscilla slides her sunglass down her nose slightly as Dean motions for her to join him. “I wanna know how much it set the two of you back to have Miss Audrey made just for Chase?”
Everyone stayed quiet, looking between Chase and Dylan. “Shut up, Dylan. My Audrey is priceless.” Chase moved his sunglasses to the top of his head, his blue eyes intense against the color of the pool and the brightness of the sun. One look, a single gaze, and I know he really believes it, that I am something precious to him.
“C’mere, for a second,” he motions to me, patting his wet hand on the side of the pool, leaving a rough outline of his massive hand behind. “I need you down here with me, Audrey—” he pauses long enough to think for a half second. “What is your middle name, Sweetness?”
Rising from my chair, I make my way over to him. “I have two middle names, after my mother’s two best friends from school…Faith Lynn.” By the look on his and his brother’s faces, there has to be something wrong with having two middle names.
“Awe, Daddy, you always did look after the boys for me.” Priscilla says, her face turned toward heaven as she kisses the tips of her fingers, and then sends it off into the air above her. Dean pulls her close, whispering something only she is meant to hear, while she nods her head as he rubs her shoulders.
“Audrey Faith, will you please join me?” I go willing, more out of curiosity than anything else. Tucking my skirt around my legs, my feet and ankles are submerged under water. “Do I want to know why my middle name upset your momma?” I lean over to whisper into his ear.
Wrapping his arms around my thighs, pulling me forward until my legs are parted and practically straddling him. The chill of his skin from the water against my heated flesh, sends a shiver up my back and around to my belly.
“Granddaddy came to our house every day of our lives. He was at every game and graduation, he missed nothing. When it was time to have the important conversations every man has to sit through, he was right there as Daddy told us about life. When I made the decision to join the Marines, he pulled us all aside, filled our cups up with Hennessy and gave us these.” He fingered the corded band around his wrist, dark green and black cording intermingled to make a thick bracelet. In the center, sat a silver plaque with the word Faith in the center.
“He gave each of us one of these and said as long as we wore this, we would always have faith. He believed when you lost it, you lost a part of yourself.” His eyes remained fixed on the scratched surface of the metal. “He wished for each of us to find a good girl,” his eyes traveled up and locked with mine, “named Faith.” His eyes shifted back and forth as his smile grew on his face. Lips that look so soft and kissable, surrounded the straightest, whitest teeth I’d ever seen. “So, to answer your question, Sweetness, there is absolutely nothing wrong with your name.”
Golden tones color his skin, kissed by the sun, and decorated by ink from a skilled artists hand. Tiny droplets of water scurried a path down his pectoral and arm muscles, his hair wet from the swim he took to get to this side of the pool. His brown hair looked almost black, but not quite as dark as Austin’s. A tiny scar was visible under his left eye, circular in shape, and I wondered what could have cause the mark. My fingers move on their own, tracing the Marine insignia on his left peck, taking my time with each star above and below. “Why four?” I asked before I could pull it back.
“One for every man I’ve killed in combat.” The moment is heavy and my fingers want to pull away, but he places his cool hand over mine flattening my palm against his beating heart. “I fought a war I didn’t start, against men I never knew. The men I killed had never wronged me; that is why they have a place on my chest, near my heart.” I could feel the definition of his abdominal muscles flex as he moved closer to me, touching the skin of his stomach against the skin of my inner thigh. Being this close to him is more intimate than any act of sex I’d ever had. Having nothing between us, no barriers to divide and shield me from his touch, should terrify me, but the thought of the moment when he’ll back away, taking his gentle touch and soothing skin with him, causes the bile to bubble in my gut.
Just above where my thigh is pressed against the tight muscles of his ribs, is the word trust, written in elegant script. Just the single word, no symbols or clever anecdotes. I resist the urge to touch it, confirming the word is real, but I’m afraid of breaking the bubble and shattering this moment into a billion tiny pieces. “Trust is something we are forced to extend to our team mates. It’s the hardest thing for someone to earn from me, yet having my life in constant danger forces me to rely on the guy next to me. Now that I’m home, I can be more selective and place it where I want to, instead of where I need to.”
A waitress kneels down, asking if she can get us anything, it’s enough of a distraction to sever the electricity we had flowing between us. “Yes, Ma’am, a new one of these.” Chase taps the side of his empty beer, “and whatever this gorgeous creature wants.” Our waitress is wearing a white mini skirt and with the angle of her legs, I wouldn’t be surprised if she is trying to show off her assets.
“I would love a diet coke with a lime, please.” Chase smiles as he gives her his room number to charge our drinks to. Dylan and Austin have Lainie and Claire on their shoulders playing a pushing game. Chase smiles as he watches the girls laughing as one tries to push the other into the water.
“You know, I’ve never been one of those girls who buys into the fantasy of the larger than life war hero. Preparing to do anything to gain his attention, if only for a night or weekend, and then plunging into the deep end of the depression pool when he doesn’t call or return a text message.” He leans in as if my words are meant only for him. I’m being honest, giving him every opportunity to keep our relationship as it is; friends.
“I’ve never cared for the girl who spends more time trying to change the face in the mirror, instead of facing life, armed with a full set of brain cells, all of which get along and are useful.” His hand finds mine and he wraps his fingers around my much smaller ones, bringing them up to his mouth as he places a gentle kiss on top of my knuckles. “Listen, I know we agreed to eat dinner at a chain, but I did a search a minute ago, and the closest place is eighteen minutes away. By the time we get a car delivered and drive there, I could have taken you to one of the many restaurants here at the resort.”
I know this is a battle I’m not likely to win, but perhaps with the questions I have swirling around my head and no doubt his own, maybe a private place would be better. “Whatever you choose will be fine.” With the ease of an Olympic swimmer, he pulls himself out of the pool with one hand, water splashing against the tile and across the cement.
“Okay, I’m going to go shower this chlorine off me, you can stay here with the family or you can come with me to my room.” His offer is enticing, but I know if I go up to his room, it will mean something different for him than it does for me.
“Actually, I am going to choose plan C and have a quick look around this place. Maybe walk along the beach for a little bit.” He pulls me up to stand beside him, the weight of the water making his shorts cling to his muscular thighs.
“Audrey, will you do me a favor?” His eyes are pleading as his fingers find my elbow, sliding down to my fingers with the opposite hand. “Save the walk on the beach for after dinner, with me.” I nod in affirmation as he squeezes both of my hands as he turned and walked toward the hotels entrance.
Absolute Valor (Southern Justice #3) Page 14