Pocketful of Sand

by M. Leighton

Which is pure craziness.

  Within five minutes, Cole is back, carrying an armful of wood–some big pieces, some little–through my door. “I had some for across the street,” he explains, making his way into the living room. He sets his load in front of the fireplace and deftly builds a fire. It’s lit and already starting to crackle within just a few minutes.

  “You must’ve done that a lot,” I comment, curling up on the end of the sofa nearest the fire. I can already feel myself relaxing.

  Cole shrugs. “Once or twice.” The curve to his lips is like chocolate for the eyes. It’s sweet and darkly sexy at the same time. Much like Cole himself.

  Watching the flames, Cole stands, strips off his coat and lays it across the chair. Rather than taking a seat, though, he just returns to the fire, staring down into it like he can see the future. Or maybe the past.

  He’s not too close. But he’s close enough. My whole being reacts to him. Pleasure, excitement, contentment, and curiosity are all swimming through my blood in equal measure.

  The flicker of the fire highlights the angles and planes of his face–square chin, straight nose, high cheekbones, bold brow. He’s magnificent. It’s the one thing that never changes.

  “I was seventeen when I met Brooke. She was fifteen. We were just kids. Stupid kids,” he begins, his voice a soothing vibration in the quiet. “I got a football scholarship to Texas Christian. That probably should’ve been the end of us, but she kept coming to visit on the weekends. I think she didn’t want to break up because I was her big-time college boyfriend. I think I didn’t break up because I was a guy. I could have my highschool sweetheart and the college girls, too, and no one would be the wiser. And that’s pretty much how it went. Until she got pregnant.” The silence is broken only by the hiss and spit of sap from the burning wood. “I married her. Because that’s what good guys from Texas do. At first it wasn’t too bad. She kept me on track with school. I graduated in three years. The coaches backed me when I told them I wanted to go out in the draft. Got picked second round. It was like a dream come true for me.” His tone is almost wistful as he speaks. “So, we packed up and moved out here to New England so I could play pro football. We set up house there once we found the perfect place to raise our little girl. Her name was Charity.” His voice cracks when he speaks it aloud.

  A lump of emotion clogs my throat. I know what’s coming. I know that no matter how perfect, how beautiful his life once was, the dream ended in tragedy.

  “She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Emmy looks so much like her it hurts. Black hair, big green eyes and she had this perfect little mouth. Like a cupid’s bow.” In profile, I can see Cole’s lips quirk at the memory. It only lasts for a few seconds, though. Soon, they’re pulled down at the corners again. “I spent every minute I could with her until football practice started, but then I had to work. After that, my life was all about the game. Nobody tells you that it can consume you if you’re not careful. They don’t tell you about the pitfalls. They don’t warn you about all the attention and all the parties and celebrating. The fans and the groupies. And I was too young to know. Or to care, really.”

  Heavy. The air feels so heavy with dread that I could probably cut it if I had a knife.

  “I’d practice during the week, but on the weekends, it was a whole other world. Drinking, parties, private jets. But I was with my teammates, so it was work. Teambuilding. At least that’s what I told myself. It got to where I rarely ever saw my family. I felt guilty. Guilty as hell. That’s why I started bringing Brooke and Charity up here. We’d play house for a few days, build sandcastles, cook burgers and that would buy me some time until I felt bad again.” He pauses and a small smile tugs at his lips, briefly. Like before. “When it was good, it was really good, though. Brooke and I got along. And Charity…I could never have asked for something more wonderful. We’d stay on the beach for hours building sandcastles. She loved it. And before we left, she’d stuff sand in my pocket. Every time. She said it was so we could take some of the happy with us.”

  I close my eyes, emotion welling within me. Now it all makes sense. And my poor heart feels like it might collapse.

  When I open my eyes to focus on Cole, I see that his lids are closed. Closed against the pain, against the memory. Or maybe he’s savoring those happy times. Happy times that ended so, so badly.

  I get up, hesitating for less than a heartbeat before I step closer to him, drawn by an irresistible force. A force named Cole. He continues as though I never moved, as though he’d lost in the past.

  “I wasted so much time. On alcohol and parties. On people who never mattered. Time I could’ve been spending with her. It…” Cole sighs and shakes his head like he’s shaking off a bad thought. “I haven’t touched a drop since she died. Not one. Until last night.” Another pause. “Until you.”

  I don’t know what to say to that. I feel like I should defend myself, but I don’t know how. I don’t know what I’ve done or even if it’s really my fault that he fell off the wagon.

  “When Jordan told me that Jason didn’t come home the night he came here…when I saw his truck parked here in the morning…Jesus! I wanted to hurt somebody. Jason mostly. The thought of him putting his hands on you…his mouth…” Cole closes his eyes as though the vision is physically painful. “I haven’t felt anything in a long time. Anything. Except grief and loss. And that’s the way I wanted it. I felt like it was…it was…penance almost. Like I owed that to my little girl. Never to be happy again since she couldn’t be here. But then I met you.” When he turns, his eyes melt into mine, his lips twisting into a wry smile. There’s no humor there. Like he said he didn’t want me in his head, I get the feeling that he doesn’t exactly welcome what’s between us. “You make me feel all sorts of things. Too many things. Things I never wanted to feel. But you just wouldn’t stop. You just. Wouldn’t. Stop.”

  I take a deep breath. “I-it’s not like I’ve done this on purpose, Cole,” I say, becoming angry. Why is he making this out to be a bad thing? And my fault, no less? “I didn’t come here looking for anyone either. I just wanted–”

  My words are cut off by his finger coming to rest against my lips. “You didn’t have to do anything. You just had to show up. With your big gray eyes and that lush mouth. God, that mouth! I thought I’d go crazy if I couldn’t kiss you. Just once. But then once wasn’t enough.” His expression turns dire. “I was furious. With you. With myself. So I went and got some Wild Turkey from Bailey’s. Jordan must’ve taken that as a green light because she showed up later with more. I didn’t say no. I should never have even started. But I was so…God!” He runs his hands through his hair again, his eyes fierce.

  My stomach sinks. “So she did stay? Jordan, I mean?”

  “Just for a little while, but then I made her leave.”

  “S-so there’s nothing between you?” I ask hesitantly. I want him to say no so badly.

  He looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Me and Jordan? God no! She’s sweet, but she’s…just no.”

  I shrug. “I didn’t know.”

  “No, you wouldn’t know that you’re the only woman I’m interested in. You wouldn’t know that you’re the only woman I’ve been interested in in a very long time. That’s why I was so angry about Jason.” He takes a deep breath, his eyes pleading. “Please tell me that there’s nothing between you two.”

  My heart is pounding so hard I wonder if he can hear it. It’s thumping in my ears and vibrating in all my fingertips. “No, there’s absolutely nothing going on between me and Jason.”

  He looks visibly relieved. No less intense, of course, but definitely relieved. “I don’t think I could stand it if there was. I couldn’t…just thinking about it…Shit!”

  “Well, there’s not, so don’t give it another thought.”

  “It was making me crazy. You are making me crazy.” I know I shouldn’t thrill at his words, but I do. I do because, in his own way, Cole’s been making me crazy, too. �
�Do you think you can ever forgive me for what I did last night? If I could take it back, I would. You don’t know how much I regret it, Eden. I–”

  It’s my turn to shush him with a finger to his lips. “Let’s just forget about it, okay?”

  He nods.

  “It will never happen again. You have my word.”

  “I believe you, Cole.”

  And I do. This is the man I thought him to be. This is the man I had hoped was underneath the broken and brooding man on the beach and across the street. This is a man that could change everything for me.

  We stand in silence, practically nose to nose, for at least two full minutes. I realize as I stare up into his ocean blue eyes that I could drown in them and die a happy woman.

  When his gaze flickers down to my lips, I wet them automatically, every part of me yearning for his kiss. “I don’t have anything to give you, Eden. I’m broken. More than I ever thought I could be. But you can have what’s left of me. If you want it. You can have what little I have to give.”

  “That’s all I want, Cole. That’s all I want.”

  SEVENTEEN

  Cole

  OUR EYES ARE still locked as I tilt my head and draw closer to her. I watch her lids flutter shut just before mine, before my lips meet hers. When they do, it takes every ounce of my willpower not to go crazy. The taste of her…sweet Jesus! It’s the most delicious thing that has ever touched my tongue. As I sweep along the inside of her mouth, I have to fight harder and harder to go slow. Every fiber, every nerve, every muscle wants to strip her down and ravage her. Lick every surface, test every opening, taste every juice.

  I can’t remember wanting something this badly. Not once. Everything about her sings to me. Her eyes, her smile, her laugh, her body. I want to lose myself in her. And I am. I’m not thinking of anything other than Eden right now. And the reprieve from my usual pain is almost overwhelming.

  I feel her hands come tentatively to rest on my chest. My pecs flex in response to her cool touch. I run my fingers into her silky hair and hold her head still as I dive deeper into her mouth, wishing I was already inside her.

  When her palms trail from my chest down to my stomach, my cock fills with blood so fast it’s almost painful. I groan into her mouth and she digs in with her fingernails.

  I jerk my head up, feeling like I’m about to lose control. “Eden, you can’t do things like that.”

  “Things like what?” she asks, her eyes wide and innocent, yet dark and sexy.

  “Touch me like that. It’s…it’s been a long time.”

  I feel the huff of her breath against my chin as she stretches up to brush her mouth against mine. “It has for me, too.”

  She runs her hands around my waist and presses her lips to my throat. I feel the plush mounds of her breasts rubbing against me and I grit my teeth to keep from doing something stupid. I feel like a bomb, getting ready to explode and take out a damn city block.

  “Eden, I’m serious.”

  “I am, too. I don’t want you to hold back with me.”

  “But I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t hurt me.”

  “I-I don’t have any protection. I wasn’t planning to…”

  “I haven’t been with anybody in a long time. I’m clean,” she tells me.

  “Me, too. It’s been a while.”

  “And I have an IUD.”

  That one short sentence…holy God! I feel it like a punch to the gut. Just the thought of being inside her slick heat with nothing between us, just the idea of shooting come way up inside her, of spilling every last ounce of myself into her, is nearly my undoing.

  “Eden, give me this one time and I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Next time, I’ll go slow. But tonight…”

  I barely hear her breathy Okay before I let go. She said not to hold back, but if she hadn’t, after telling me that she has an IUD, I probably would’ve had to leave and come back later. It has to be all or nothing. Those are my only two speeds right now.

  I wind my arms around her and crush her to me from her lips to her knees. I feel every softly rounded contour of her body against mine as I lay her down on the rug in front of the fire. I think to myself that I’ll take my time and enjoy every inch of her after this. But right now, I have to get inside her.

  I reach for the button and zipper of her jeans and flick them open quickly. Our tongues tangle in the most delicious way and I can feel her heat all the way through the denim of my own pants. My cock is throbbing for her. My whole being is concentrated on her–the way she smells, the way she tastes, the way she feels underneath me.

  I pull away just long enough to drag her jeans and panties down her legs. I lean back to look at her, the skin between her spread legs glistening, all pink and wet, in the firelight. My mouth waters reflexively and I bend to run my tongue into her crease.

  I only meant to have a quick taste, just because wondering about it has been driving me nuts, but my throbbing dick gets put on hold the instant her flavor hits my tongue.

  She’s as sweet here as she is inside her mouth. Sweet and soft and silky. For a few seconds, I forget everything except how she tastes. She’s like a mind-altering drug. An aphrodisiac. Intoxicating. Addictive. Suddenly driven to taste more, to taste all that she has to give, I find myself sliding my hands under her, gripping her plump ass and holding her to my mouth, like I’m drinking from a cup of sugar water.

  I slip one thumb inside her, the wetness of her coating it and making my cock jump against my zipper. I pump it into her, anxious to feel more, taste more, take more. I push her legs wide and eat, like a starving man might eat.

  I set her hips down and run two fingers up inside her, feeling the tight clench of her body. I growl against her as I reach for my own zipper, knowing that if I don’t get into her now, something embarrassing might happen.

  With my cock out, I stretch out full length on Eden, taking her lips in a kiss that sets my blood on fire. I wedge my hips between her spread legs and cage her upper body with my forearms to take some of my weight off her. I hear her sharp breathing and I tremble with the effort it takes not to slam my body into hers.

  The head of my dick finds her entrance with an unerring precision, like I’ve been here before. Or maybe that I’m meant to be here. Like I know her body already.

  I slip in a couple of inches and meet resistance as her body stretches to accommodate me. “Oh God, Eden. You’re so tight. So tight…”

  At this point, I don’t know how I’m holding out. I must be stronger than I thought. And it’s a good thing, or else I might not have felt her hands grabbing at my shoulders. Because they aren’t holding me to her. They’re pushing me away.

  That’s when I realize that the little sounds she’s making aren’t sounds of pleasure anymore. They’re sounds of fear.

  I jerk away from her like she burned me, memories of her reaction last night rushing back, all too clear.

  I lift my head to look down at Eden. Her eyes are wide and afraid, full of tears. She’s staring at me like I’m a stranger and she’s stiff as a board beneath me.

  “Eden, did I hurt you? God, I’m so sorry.”

  Her breathing is erratic and her voice trembles when she answers. “Y-you didn’t. I-I’m sorry, Cole. I just… I can’t do this. Not yet. I…I don’t…” She starts to cry, soft sobs that rip through my heart. What did I do?

  “I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I…I…God, I’m such an asshole!”

  When I lever myself completely off her, she scoots away, drawing her legs up to her chest protectively. “Can you go? Cole, please. We can talk tomorrow, but right now…just please. Please go.”

  “Of course,” I tell her. What else would I say? I feel like shit and I don’t even know what I did. That’s arguably the worst part. “Eden, I–”

  “It’s not you, it’s me, Cole.”

  I straighten my clothes and roll to my feet, reaching to take my jacket form the chair. I can’t take my eyes of
f her. Something about the fear in her, the vulnerability that I feel blowing off her like cold air, slices through me. Through skin and muscle and bone. And goes right into my heart.

  More than anything, I want to pull her into my arms and hold her, to tell her that whatever it is, it’ll be okay. But she doesn’t want that. I can see it in the white of her knuckles, in the stiffness of her back. In the tightness of her face. She’s freaked out and she just wants me out of here.

  As I start past her, I pause. I want to bend down and kiss her so that this can end on a good note, but I don’t. I get the feeling nothing can salvage this night. I just don’t know why.

  She doesn’t say another word to me as I go to leave, not even as I close the door behind me.

  EIGHTEEN

  Eden

  MY HEART IS slamming around in my chest like an eight-ounce pinball. I can hardly breathe and memories assail me like demons in the air, running at me from every direction. I tell myself over and over that it’s in the past, that he can’t hurt me anymore. I tell myself that Cole is different. But his words…they resonated within me. Like a scream reverberating through an empty cave. Through the hallway of time.

  I don’t bother dressing. I simply roll onto my side and curl up into the tightest ball that my body will make. I close my eyes and concentrate on the heat of the flames. I picture it like comforting hands, reaching out to gently touch my face. I picture them warming me, chasing away the cold, soothing away my fears. And the darkness. And the demons.

  I don’t know how long I stay this way before I finally doze off. An hour. Three. A week. A lifetime.

  When I wake, it’s with a start. I’m flat on my stomach, face turned toward the dwindling fire, and my pulse is pounding. As though someone spoke the future right into my ear to rouse me, I have the crystal clear realization that I just let something amazing slip through my fingers. All because of something awful in my past. How long can I let Ryan haunt me? How long can I let him decide my future? How long can I be a prisoner of yesterday? And how many tomorrows will suffer because of it?