“Is it weird coming in here after you quit?” Shirley says, eyeing the shelves filled with hair dye trying to find the proper platinum shade. “Like do those bitches scowl at you? I would if I were them.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “It’s not even…anything. I never felt a part of this family. That’s what it is, you know? They’ve all been here so long they know the passers-through right away. I only worked here to help pay the nurses,” I say, swallowing hard. I miss my mom. I lay awake some nights trying to remember the last time she remembered. It makes my chest hurt and my eyes leak, and it never gets any easier. Time, I tell myself. It will get better with time.
Shirley notices and lays a hand on my shoulder. “You got the world by the tits, Malena. A hot guy is paying for her to be in a safe place. He cares about you so much. You’re like the royal princess of Bronze Bay.”
I shake off the memories. “Caleb cares for you, too. You’re here because he’s waiting your tables,” I remind her.
She smiles. “He’s good people. I know that. You know Leif is good people, too, right?”
I nod. “I mean, I would still be having sex with him even if he wasn’t paying for Mom to be in Garden Breeze,” I explain, grinning. “I hope it lasts. That’s what I’m worried about. I’m so in love with him I can’t imagine being without him.” A lump forms in my throat. Shirley picks up a box of dye and flips it over to see the photos. “Can I ask you a question? Between you and me?”
“Oh, fuck. What did you do?” Shirley replies, focusing her gaze on mine.
I roll my eyes. “Stop it. I didn’t do anything. Well, it’s something I didn’t do, I guess you could say.”
“Go on,” she says, looking down the aisle to make sure we’re out of earshot of anyone. She sets the box back on the shelf without looking. “I’m waiting.”
“Dylan,” I choke out. “He doesn’t know about the divorce. He knows about my infertility which was my biggest concern. He didn’t bat an eye at that. Leif even knows I was in a long-term relationship with a man named Dylan, but he has no clue I was married. Do you think that’s a big deal? How do I bring that up?”
Shirley blows out a long breath through pursed lips. “Is he the jealous type?” she asks like it’s the only logical question.
“Aren’t all men jealous?”
She lifts one shoulder. “Some more so than others. If I was a betting woman I’d guess Leif is a very jealous man. Beats on his chest, marks his territory with piss and all that. If he knows you were with Dylan, I’d just leave it at that. It’s not like you were married for a decade and made a billion sweet memories together. It was mostly awful. And he took off when you didn’t deliver on your promise to repopulate Bronze Bay and give him his football team.”
Folding my arms, I say, “You put my medical condition so eloquently.”
“I get something wrong in there? Just gave you the facts,” she states, grabbing the box she’s already picked up twice. “Got what I came for, you need anything?”
There’s a blueberry lip gloss hanging on a display, and I snatch it up. My mouth waters. “You got it all right, but you’re so blunt about it. I shouldn’t expect anything else,” I growl
“No. You shouldn’t. Real friends give real facts. Always.”
I tamp down on my annoyance about my friend dredging up old memories and realize she’s given sound advice. I don’t have any feelings for Dylan. I realize that what I felt at the height for Dylan, is not even a drop in the bucket of the overflowing, cascade of love I have for Leif. Telling him would do nothing. If it comes up, or he hears about it from someone else, I’ll tell him Dylan was so inconsequential that he wasn’t worth talking about. That’s it. This is the last time I’m going to worry about it. Shirley checks out, and I follow, trying to make small talk with the checkout employee, but it comes out all wrong and I’m sure she thinks I’m insulting her job. Floundering I try to say something nice and fail again. “Have a good day,” I mutter, and grab my lip gloss off the counter.
“You’re a real mess today, Malena,” Shirley says, laughing under her breath as we exit. “You need a night out more than I do if that little exchange has anything to say about your mental state.”
“You talk to people all day long, Shirley. Plus, you’re just mean,” I say, checking my phone. Still nothing. Sometimes Leif will check it if he has a spare second and get back to me. It’s the last time I look at the damn thing without being prompted by a ringer.
Shirley and I make brownies while we wait for her roots to turn blonde, and then we spend way too long doing our makeup and selecting what to wear. It’s like we’re teenagers again getting ready for a party in secret, except now I have this whole house to myself, an entire life that I never thought was in the cards. I settle on a backless tank and a pair of shorts. Shirley borrows one of my black dresses and makes light work of uncorking a bottle of wine. We’re riding our bicycles down to the spot so we can have a drink or two before we set off.
Cleaning the kitchen, I carefully package some of the brownies to take to my mom tomorrow when I visit. I put the container in the bag which contains a few photo albums. The nurses told me that even if she doesn’t remember who is in the photos, she’ll enjoy looking at them, and they might help her. I do anything I can to be helpful now that I feel so useless with regards to Mom’s care.
“You handling everything okay? Seems you are, but I’m not sure if it’s the orgasm haze. Are you really handling it, or are you distracted?” Shirley says, sneaking up behind me as I load the bag.
“I’m okay,” I say, nodding. I tell her I know it’s been coming for a long time. “The real kicker is sometimes I wonder if it’s going to happen to me. I look at these albums and can’t imagine not remembering my life. It’s scary.”
She puts her arm around my shoulder. “You know they told you it may not happen.” “But it might,” I say, shaking my head. I tell her what her doctor told me about statistics, and she poo-poos them by trying to convince me doctors only say things to cover their own ass. When the wine-fueled conversation turns to something happier, we mount our bikes, turn the headlights on, and peddle toward the ocean. It’s an easy ride, the sidewalks are wide, and the traffic nonexistent. The salty air turns my hair into a wavy mess, and the humidity covers my skin in a dewy glow. There’s no point in trying to go for a matte makeup look in Florida. It’s impossible. I grab the half-empty wine bottle from my basket and my cell phone as we park our bikes at the long bike rack adjacent to the field that everyone uses as a parking lot. Shirley has a head start, walking toward the path down to the spot.
I’m momentarily distracted by the wine buzz and making sure my bike is secure when he sneaks up behind me, wrapping his big arms around my waist. I jump and let out a tiny yip. “There you are. You’re late,” he rasps at my ear, the heat from his body enveloping me fully.
We are late, but he never messaged me back, so I didn’t know if he was coming. “Shirley and I got caught up at home. How was work? I missed talking to you today,” I reply, setting the wine back in the basket.
He kisses my cheek, and then spins me to face him and plants his lips firmly on my mouth. It turns scandalous fast, his tongue invading my mouth as his hands trace lazy circles on my exposed back. “I missed you too,” he says. “So much I had to do that so you would know just how much.”
“You could have just said it, but I enjoy kissing you,” I reply, my lips brushing his as I speak.
Leif licks his lips, pulling me closer. I exhale every pent-up worry and relax into his strong frame. “Work was crazy today. Lots of meetings. The thought of seeing you tonight was what got me through. Can we go somewhere?” he asks, tilting my chin up to take my mouth again. “I need you now.” His hard-on is pressing against me, in an unbearably noticeable way. “Any which way I can have you. As soon as possible.”
He’s not usually this forthright or savage in his need. Don’t get me wrong, if he catches sight of me naked, it’s over. We’re h
aving sex. If my shorts slide up when I bend over, we’re fucking as soon as an opportunity arises. If skin touches skin, he’s touching me, kissing me. The attraction is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. Leif looks at me with dark, hungry eyes, and I know he’s not just talking.
“Where?” I reply, the bundle of nerves between my legs pulsing from his heady gaze.
He looks around frantically. “Follow me,” he whispers, tugging my hand and keeping me close. The wine makes me a little slow and cumbersome on my feet. The peddles on my bicycle were easy compared to walking. There’s a lifeguard stand in the distance, at the beach nearest the spot. It’s illuminated by a domed beacon on the top and after a few seconds, I know it’s where we’re headed. Leif picks up the pace and at this point, I’m running to keep up. We kick off our shoes, leaving them where pavement meets sand and rush the white ladder. He hoists me up and climbs up quickly himself, using every few rungs because his legs are so long. It’s unlocked because no one locks anything in Bronze Bay. That’s the best part of staying in this small town bubble. I can pretend that life outside it doesn’t exist.
There’s an old lamp, a pair of binoculars and a system that must be a radio for communication purposes. There’s also a small stool that swivels. We’re both eyeing that at the moment. We can hear the party raging on the other side of the tree line. I take a seat on the red worn out stool. “So, you had to have me. Here I am,” I say.
Leif swallows hard, his neck working. “Malena,” he says, eyes darkening even further. A crease forms between his eyes as he appraises me.
I nod, waiting for him to make the first move. “Leif,” I toss back. “Mr. Andersson. My hero. The love of my life.” Smirking, I try to gauge his reaction to my words, but he’s a blank canvas. His chest works as he breathes heavily and he runs both of his hands through his hair and down his face. Shaking his head, he grasps whatever resolve he’s searching for and confuses me even further. “Come here, Leif. Tell me what’s wrong.” I rise to my knees on the stool so I can reach around his neck instead of being eye level with his dick.
He obeys, letting me circle my arms around him. Leaning down, Leif inhales my hair. “I need you,” he says.
Looking up at him I wrinkle my brow. “You have me.” No one else has ever had someone so completely in the history of time.
He shakes his head. I don’t have long to ponder what that means because he’s kissing me, his large hands stripping me down until there’s nothing left but skin. I help slide his shirt off and he drops his shorts and steps out of them. He doesn’t take his eyes off mine. There’s a desperation that I’ve never seen before. A wicked gleam of something sharp, painful.
As he runs his hands down the sides of my body, I ask, “What’s wrong, Leif. Talk to me. I can tell something is off.”
He silences me with a kiss, tilting my head to the side and running his hands through my hair. Picking me up, he steps forward until my back is against the floor to ceiling window that overlooks the ocean. We’re like fish in a tank. Anyone looking up has a view of my ass. He enters me the next second, and I wouldn’t care if the whole world was watching. Crying out, I tuck my face into his neck and ride the thrusts as he pumps, hard juts, as deep as my body will allow him.
“You’re mine,” he says, teeth grating along my shoulder. “Always.”
The act of forming coherent words isn’t something I’m capable of when Leif is this wild with lust, or I’d confirm his sentiment. My skin makes squeaking noises as he fucks me against the clean glass. His grip is firm on the sides of my thighs as he uses that as leverage. The noise intensifies as he brings both of us closer to orgasm. My stomach tightens and my arms feel limp as the pressure at my core builds to a fever pitch. We come at the same time, him letting out an exasperated sigh as I sink down on his shaft when his grip loosens a bit with his release.
The high is always intense after we make love, my body craving his touch, his warmth, all of him. “I love you,” I say, tracing the edge of his ear with my lips. “That was amazing. It’s always amazing with you.”
He breathes heavily in favor of replying. He needs a few moments to collect himself. Almost as if his brain needs to switch from one mode to another. He lets me drop to the ground, disconnecting our bodies as he goes. My back is sweaty and has left an imprint on the glass, a lovely heart shape where my ass was just pounded. “Malena,” Leif rasps. Different this time than when we first began this tryst.
“Look at me,” I order, placing my hands on each of his shoulders. “You have me.” I reach between my legs and draw my hand back when it’s coated with his seed. I hold it up. “Yours,” I say, wiggling my fingers. “Always yours. Why are you acting like I’m going somewhere?”
Then it hits me. This has nothing to do with me going anywhere. My stomach sinks and my legs shake a bit. A little from my intense orgasm, but mostly from the knowledge that he’s about to tell me something I don’t want to hear. Bad news. It’s something I can sniff out. “Spit it out,” I prompt.
He finally lets his gaze flick up to meet mine. It’s pained. “I’m leaving, Malena,” he whispers. “And I shouldn’t be upset because this is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for. I’m going to get the bastard this time. But that means I have to leave you. Here. For a long time.”
I stutter, try to begin a sentence, but close my mouth and think for a few more beats. “This is your home,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “You said you weren’t moving away from here.”
He shakes his head, placing his hands on my cheeks. “I’m not moving from here. Think of this like a deployment, Malena. Back before the war, I’d go overseas for months at a time. Now I’m heading to place here in the states…and I have to be there for a while. I’ll come back. I’ll always come back to you. Here. To Bronze Bay.”
I shake my head. “How long?” In my fucked up fairytale, I think he’s going to say a few weeks. Maybe a month. I should know better.
“A year.” His voice shakes.
My eyes must look incredulous—scary, because he takes a step away from me. “It’s a lot of reconnaissance to prepare. It’s the largest mission the Teams have done yet. It might be the mission that stops the war for good. The end of it. No more attacks. No more terrorists lurking next door. Malena, you have to understand.” Leif steps toward me, reaching a hand out, but I take another step back, the sting too encompassing to let him feel it. “This is why I chose this career path. Why I’m a SEAL. This is how I make a difference. How I rationalize my life choices. We can end the war,” he repeats himself.
How do I tell him that I don’t care about the war? What about my heart? What about the promises he’s made to me? The war isn’t in Bronze Bay and maybe that makes me out of touch, but I’m not thinking clearly right now. “I understand,” I whisper.
He shakes his head, looking toward the low ceiling. “We can talk every day. Or, most days. This isn’t me saying I’ll never see you again. I’ll be back.”
I drop my head and cover my face with one hand. “A year, Leif. Do you know what happens in a year? Everything. You won’t be able to visit me? You’re not going overseas. It’s not like a real deployment. You’ll be a quick flight away.”
“No,” he says, taking my hand from my face and capturing it between both of his hands. “It’s more important than a real deployment. Once the ball gets rolling and we involve ourselves, no one in our lives will be safe. I’ll have to stay away. That said, there are ways we can communicate.” His face changes, a scowl piercing all the way to my soul. “You won’t wait for me then.” It’s not a question.
“Of course I’ll wait for you!” I yell. “That’s what makes this so bad! I’d do anything for you Leif and this is breaking my freaking heart. Sure we can communicate ,but we won’t have this,” I say, motioning between our bodies. “That’s painful. I’ve had a taste of it and I’ve fallen so madly in love with everything about you that I’m not sure what is going to be left when and if you finally do come
back to Bronze Bay.”
“I’m coming back,” he states. “I love you, Malena. I. Love. You. There’s nothing that can keep me from coming back.”
I slide my panties back on and sit on the stool. “Except war. That can stop you from coming back home to me.”
I watch his neck work. He’s deciding the best way to lie to me. “I’m coming back,” he says.
“In a body bag?” I fire back. I regret it the second I say it.
He winces and looks down to the floor. “I’ll do everything in my power not to.”
I spin on the stool and look out to the water. It’s a smaller beach, with tree lines on each side of it. When I was small, my father took me here. Another memory tainted by his abandonment. “When?” I whisper.
“I leave in the morning,” Leif says.
I nod, a sardonic gesture. “A year,” I repeat, trying to wrap my brain around that time frame. It’s not a week-long business trip. It’s an ocean of time that can change so much. Hearts. Minds. Bodies. Personalities. One can change completely in a year. My mother’s mind was stolen in half a year, a little going each week. “I’ll wait,” I tell him, spinning back to face him. “You really think you can end the war?”
“I fucking hope so,” he says, voice brightening now that his bad news is out of the way. “They said this is the last line of terrorists and we’re going to attack them full on, as quickly as possible.”
I want to say a year is not a quick timeline, but I don’t want to sound like a catty woman. Supportive. That’s what I need to be. He’s done so much for me. In the big scheme of things, don’t I owe him this?
“When did you find out about this?” I ask, trying to search for the answer from his gaze.
He puts one hand behind his head, his bicep bulging at the slight motion. I try not to let it affect me, but it does remind me of how much I’m going to miss out on. “This week the wheels were spinning, but today it was confirmed. I was sort of ignoring my phone today because I wanted to tell you in person.”
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