Letters To Luca

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Letters To Luca Page 12

by M. R. Joseph


  “Yes. She’s my favorite. She holds a special place in my heart.” Oh, God, I just swooned over a female poet to him. He thinks I’m a weirdo, I know it. He places the book back down in front of him and speaks with his hand over his heart:

  “Love me sweet

  With all thou art

  Feeling, thinking, seeing;

  Love me in the Lightest part,

  Love me in full Being.”

  Ok, well, there goes another pair of panties ruined. Dear, God, why, oh why, oh why. The man is sinful. He’s beautiful, and sweet, sexy and quotes fucking Browning. This is going to be harder than I thought.

  “Well, what do you know, we have that in common. Interesting. Listen, I’ll be right back. You sure I can’t get you something?”

  “No…no thank you. I’m ah, I’m fine.”

  I’m not fine actually. I feel dizzy. When he smiles at me, those chocolate eyes of his dance. His perfect smile lights up his face. I hope he just fixes the damn door and I can go to bed, changing my now soaked underwear first, of course.

  Luca comes out within minutes with his tool box.

  “Can you go ahead and turn on your porch light for me, please?”

  I nod and open the door and switch on the light for him. The sound of thunder echoes in the distance. He crouches down to look at the lock.

  “Sounds like we may be getting a storm. Hope it doesn’t cause the power to go out.”

  Oh, shit. Two things I just cannot handle. Thunderstorms and the darkness during thunderstorms. Really? I run into the house to switch on the weather station for the latest update. Just my luck, flashes of red come across the map exactly where we are. Winds were going to get crazy and the bottom of the screen flashed that there is the strong potential for power outages.

  Ok, Leighton, you are fucked. Simple. You’re a goner. Luca yells to me over his shoulder as he pulls the lock apart, “What’s the weather report saying?”

  “Um, well, looks like we are going to get hit, maybe pretty bad.” I see him struggling with the lock and now I’m worried. He is sifting through his tool box and then he rises and comes in as I’m standing in front of the T.V.

  “Leighton, I’m sorry but it needs a new lock and all the stores are closed already. It will have to wait till tomorrow.”

  Just then a crash of thunder sounds through the living room and I feel the aftershock of the boom. I jump and drop the remote for the T.V. I’m shaking and trying to hide my fear from him. He bends over to pick it up.

  “Are you ok, Leighton? You look really pale and you’re shaking. What’s wrong?” Panic sets in and I don’t want to tell him, but I’m too far gone with fear not to tell him.

  “I, um, I have a pretty big fear of thunder and lightning. I have since I was a kid. It’s actually a condition. It even has a name.”

  “A name?” He asks looking somewhat confused. Another crash followed by a flash and I swallow hard and wipe my brow of sweat.

  “Ye, yes. It’s… It’s called Astraphobia. I usually have to take something to calm me, but I forgot to get my prescription filled before I came here.”

  “There’s actually a legitimate name for it?”

  “Yes. It’s the fear of thunder and lightning. This is not good.” I look at my trembling hands and I can’t stop them. The lights flicker and I feel like I may pass out.

  “Leighton, sit down, you’re scaring me. Let me get you a glass of water.”

  I sit on my sofa and try and stop my hands from twitching. “Thank you, but do you think you can replace the water with some vodka?” He smiles and chuckles slightly.

  “Of course.” He answers. He moves to my kitchen and sifts through the cabinets in search of some alcohol. He finds my vodka and pours some in a juice glass he found. He makes his way over to me, and I feel so silly and vulnerable. He hands me the glass and I bring it to my quivering lips. I take a long drink and almost finish it. It burns but I know within a few minutes it will calm me a bit. Then another loud crash and bolt of lightning turns everything black in an instant. I jump at the darkness and Luca grabs my hand.

  “Leighton, take a deep breath. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I have a flashlight in my tool box. Don’t worry, I’m right here. Let me grab it.”

  He tries to let go of my hand but I keep a hold of it like it’s the last thing I will ever hold in my life. He brings his other hand up to my face and strokes my cheek.

  “Leighton, relax. Come with me to the tool box. It’s right there. I’ve got you.” He pulls me up with him towards the tool box. It’s very dark but the light from the lightening illuminates the room every now and again. He quickly gets the flashlights and pulls me into the kitchen. He opens a few drawers and finds a pack of fireplace matches. We make our way back over to the sofa and we sit. He grabs the large jarred candle on the coffee table in front of us and lets go of my hand to light it. I instantly feel the loss of his hand in mine. When he lights it, it casts a soft glow and I relax a bit.

  “See, much better. I’m not leaving you as long as this is going on. The winds are picking up and who knows when the lights will go back on. Is it ok if I stay here with you? I’d feel better not leaving you alone like this.”

  I want and need him to stay. I’m so scared and I know this feeling of fear is not leaving me anytime soon. I can’t say no.

  “Yes, please stay. I can’t be alone. I just can’t.” I know he can hear how frightened I am and I hate feeling this way. I hate acting this way in front of him, but Mother Nature leaves me no choice. He smiles at me and his dark eyes glow by the candle light.

  “Good. It’s getting late. How about we try and get some rest? We can sit here on the couch. I won’t leave your side, ok?”

  I nod. He grabs a blanket beside him on the sofa and he drops my hand and bends over to remove my flip flops. My toes curl at his touch. He takes his shoes off and pulls me back to settle deeper into the cushions. He covers us both up with the blanket, places his arms around the back of the sofa and hugs my shoulders with his muscular arm. Unaware of what I was really doing in my current state of mind, I nuzzle my head into the spot between his shoulder and armpit and rest my head. He smells so good. Like a combination of man and spaghetti sauce. Weird combo, I know it, but it’s the truth.

  I relish in the thought of this exact moment. I am in Luca Ferro’s arms, during a summer storm. He strokes my shoulder and caresses my hand which is in my lap. I suddenly feel calm which catches me by surprise. The storm is still going on but I feel like I do when I take my pill to help me relax. Just his soothing touch, just the sound of his breathing, his scent, and the fact that he is here and not leaving, settles me into peacefulness. I feel Luca’s lips touch my temple, softly, slowly, and I hear him whisper to me, “I’m here, Leighton. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, if you need me.” I take a deep breath in and take in his words like they are the air I needed through the noise of the storm, as I drift off to sleep.

  The morning sun shines in my face and I blink a few times to adjust to the light. I look around confused as I’m lying down on Luca’s chest surrounded by his two strong arms. I look towards his face to see him still asleep. He looks like a slice of heaven. His dark curls tousled, his stubble showing on his bronzed skin, and he’s lying there in nothing but his shorts, his bare chest staring me in the face. How the hell did that happen? What happened for that matter? I watch him breathe and I see his long, dark eyelashes cast a shadow on his cheeks. I pull my hand up and slowly make my way to his cheek. I take the outside of my fingers and graze it lightly. I feel such a need to touch him. It’s overpowering, and I find it necessary. He stirs but I can’t seem to pull it away. He blinks his eyes open and looks at me stroking his cheek. He clears his throat.

  “Good morning.” He smiles at me and I pull my hand away.

  “Good morning.” I say back. I move off of him into a sitting position. I feel embarrassed at my behavior from last night and I need to apologize. He sits up a bit but is still
in a lounging position. I get a good look at his rippling abs and his smooth, soft skin. I see his tattoo of the Virgin Mary on his arm and I see the date even more clear now. It reads: 9/29/99.

  “Luca, I’m so sorry about the way I acted last night. I forgot how bad the storms can get down here. I should have known better living here all my life. You must think I’m a freak.” I look away and I feel his hand go to my chin. He turns my face to him.

  “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t be sorry for something you can’t control. There are some things in life that we feel that we can’t control. I don’t think you are a freak, Leighton. I think you’re absolutely, positively, adorable.”

  He’s searching my eyes and all I see are his big brown orbs raking over my face. His hand stills on my chin. As his thumb strokes the edge of it, I close my eyes and melt at the touch of his hand on my skin. My temporary euphoria shakes me to my core and I remember that I cannot let this man affect me the way he does. I need to fight it. It’s the hardest thing I’ll have to do, but it’s for my own good.

  I pull away and rise up off the sofa. The sight of him putting his t-shirt back on in a slow, methodical way makes my pulse race, my heart speed up, and my mind is clouded by the sight of his body. Every muscle, every inch of skin stares me in the face. He was there for me and I appreciate it, but I’m feeling things I shouldn’t feel, and can’t allow myself to feel.

  “Thanks again for last night, Luca. For being there for me, and not judging me. I’m sure you need to get to work, and I know I have some emails to attend to so…” I sound so cold and I don’t mean to but I need him to go. My body can’t take the way it reacts to him. He looks at me and I suddenly can’t breathe. He looks disappointed but his gentle ways over take his expression. He rises off the sofa and motions towards the shirt he just placed back on his body.

  “Sorry, I took this off. With the electricity going off, it got hot in here with the air not working, and you fell asleep on me, and well you were … hot.”

  “I’m sorry I fell asleep on you.” He grins at me as he grabs his shoes.

  “I’m not sorry.” I feel my knees go weak at his confession. “Listen, I’ll be on my way. I’ll head to the hardware store to get you a new lock and have it fixed before I leave for work, ok?”

  “Thank you again for everything.” He nods to me and makes his way out the door towards his place. I fall back onto my sofa and notice my hands are shaking. I woke up in the arms of Luca Ferro and it felt, well, it felt right, like I belonged there, like I have always slept in those arms. He took care of me when I was defenseless, exposed, and weak. His touch, his words, his movements are still burning in me, on my skin, in my mind. Why after all this time has he been brought back into my life?

  Maybe everything is not what it seems. Maybe this isn’t just a lustful attraction. If Michael were here last night he would have shoved a pill down my throat, rolled over, or bolted out the door. Luca took the time to calm me, hold my hand, make me feel safe. Safe. Could I feel this way forever? Safe and secure? Wanted and needed by someone other than just to sleep with? I wonder. Could I be fooling myself? Could these feelings be something I need to explore? I hear a knock at my door and the slider pulls open. It’s Luca and he pokes his head in.

  “Leighton, I’m sorry to bother you but I forgot to tell you that I’m having a party Friday night here at the quad. I’d love for you to come and bring your friends. It should be fun.” He smiles at me as I’m still frozen on the sofa. “Oh and by the way, you are beautiful when you wake up with the sun shining on your face. I just wanted to tell you that.” He slides the door shut and walks away. Oh, God Leighton, could this really be happening? Could Luca Ferro have feeling for you? Time to get my head out of my ass and find out.

  Last night a beautiful girl slept in my arms. I’ve never felt anything so fucking good, so fucking real in all my life. She let down that damn guard of hers and it was so good to see her like that. I didn’t like that she felt so helpless, I liked, no I loved the fact that she let me in. She let me calm her, caress her, hold her. I’m the one who felt helpless. I did what I could and I’d do it a thousand times over for her. I still smell her scent on my shirt. I feel like I can still feel her silky hair on my fingers. I need to show her more. I have to be myself though in my truest form.

  I make my way to the hardware store to get the new lock for her door. I’m back in no time. I expected her to hiding somewhere inside since she kindly asked me to be on my way after last night. She’s sitting on her porch, two plates sit in front of her, along with small glasses of juice and coffee. She must be expecting a friend for breakfast. I approach her with my tool box and new lock. She smiles at me. I set down the tool box down next to the door.

  “Hey there. Looks like you’re expecting someone so I’ll be quick with this. It just pops in.” She smiles that gorgeous smile and her eyes squint in that adorable way when she does.

  “I’m not expecting anyone Luca. I made breakfast for you, for us really, as a thank you for what you did for me last night.”

  She made me fucking breakfast. I’m stunned and I really don’t know what to say. I look over at the dishes that look beautifully prepared.

  “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I made banana pancakes, cheese omelets, and eggs sunny-side up.”

  I run my hands through my hair and shake my head. I’m still speechless. Her face changes and I don’t know exactly why that is.

  “I’m sorry. You don’t like pancakes or eggs, right? Damn it, I should of made French toast and bacon.”

  Leighton turns away and starts to grab the food-filled dishes off the table. She thinks I don’t like any of it. Oh, God, I need to stop her. I grab her hand and take the dish out of her hands and place it back on the table.

  “Leighton, I think you have the wrong idea. I love everything you made. Believe me, I eat like a horse. The thing is, no one since my mamma passed away has ever made me breakfast before. This is unexpected, unnecessary, but probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I did what I did last night because I wanted to, not that I had to. There’s a difference.” Her face softened and I felt better.

  “Ok. I’m sorry, Luca, I just wanted to do something nice for you. I read it wrong.” I focused on her beautiful eyes. They captivate me and all I want to do is kiss the hell out of her for being so perfect, so sweet, but I can’t. I need to slow it down.

  “It’s beautiful, Leighton. How about I pop this lock in and we sit and eat?” She nods to me and I hurry to fix the door. She disappears inside for a few moments. When she reappears, she has a book in her hand. I finish with the lock, go inside and wash my hands. When I come back out she’s sitting at the table and motions for me to sit.

  “Dig in.” She tells me and I do just that.

  “These pancakes are phenomenal. How did you learn to make them like this? I can taste the vanilla and nutmeg.”

  She finishes her bite and says with a shrug, “I dated a French pastry chef a few years ago and he taught me.” I fucking hate that. Some asswipe showed her how to make these fantastic pancakes. My thoughts go to him probably speaking French while he was fucking her. Gross. I can’t even picture someone else’s hands on her beautiful body, touching her, making love to her. I’m jealous.

  What is going on in my head?

  “So I guess in your line of work you meet a lot of interesting people and by the sounds of it, date them too.” Damn I sounded cold, I can’t help it. I find myself feeling jealous of people in her past. Her eyes grow wide as saucers and then she smiles. I smile back and apologize for saying it like that.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to sound that way. I just meant-” She interrupts me and chuckles a bit.

  “No, Luca, it’s ok. Yes, I meet a lot of interesting people. I supervise lots of interviews. We do a ton of them for restaurants, chefs, and hotels. I met Francois on one of them. It didn’t last long. He was a bit of a playboy. I’m not into that. I’m a one man woman.”
r />   “Good to know.” I say my mouth stuffed with eggs now. I point with my fork to the book sitting beside her. “Whatcha got there?”

  She jumps excitingly and hands me the book.

  “Oh, it’s my prized possession. The Complete Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. I’ve had it since high school. I wanted to share it with you.”

  Could this girl amaze me anymore? I lick my lips and take the book from her. I open to a few pages and some are highlighted.

  “I’m guessing that some of these sonnets are your favorites? That’s why they’re highlighted?” She smiles and nods at me.

  “Thank you. I’d love to read it. My Browning book is small. Nothing compared to this. So when did you discover you loved poetry?”

  “When I was in the ninth grade. I’m a romantic and I feel like poets say what love is all about best. How about you? Don’t take this the wrong way but it’s a bit unusual for a guy of your nature to enjoy poetry.”

  I give her a grin and sip my coffee.

  “No offense taken. I know it’s a bit odd. My friends make fun of me for it. I guess senior year in high school. Something happened in my life that turned me on to it. It kind of changed my life.” That’s all the info I was going to give to her about it. I’m not ready to tell anyone about letter girl. She doesn’t ask either. She’s kind and doesn’t appear to pry. I must respect people’s privacy. Maybe someday if things work out between us, I can tell Leighton about my first love, until then, I’ll just enjoy the memory myself.

  I stuff another piece of egg into my mouth and wipe it with the napkin. I look down at my watch and I know now that I have to get showered and head to work. It’s almost noon.

  “Leighton, I’m so sorry but I have to go. I hate to eat and run.” She stands in front of me. I grab my dish and hers and make my way into her kitchen.

 

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