Deliver the Moon

by Rebecca J. Clark

  This was so thoughtful. He really was sweet. As she watched, Gabe turned and met her gaze from afar. Although he was too far away to see clearly, she was certain his eyes were intense. Brooding. She giggled and waved to him. He waved back, then pointed his finger sharply at her as if to say, “Get to work!” She laughed and waved again, before attaching a piece of paper onto the easel.

  She wasn’t sure how long he’d been gone, but when he returned, she realized it had been long enough to be caught off guard at how good he looked today. He’d taken off his shirt and had threaded it through a belt loop so that it hung in an upside down V at his waist. Her gaze traveled upward from there, to his bare chest and the way his muscles rippled under sun-kissed skin and a dark smattering of hair.

  Swallowing hard, she forced her gaze away, otherwise he would surely see the want in her eyes, if he hadn’t already. She concentrated on her drawing as she heard the crunch of pebbles with his approach.

  “No Arty and Sarah yet, eh?” He scanned the shoreline and upper part of the park.

  “Not yet.”

  “Hmm. How’s it coming?” he asked as he sat down beside her.

  She hugged the easel toward her chest. “Don’t look. It’s not done yet.”

  He grinned and grabbed a cold pop from the cooler. “Want one?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Oh. Sure. I forgot you brought some.”

  He handed her a ginger ale. Her favorite. “Too caught up in your work, eh?” He adored the sweet blush that covered her face as she nodded. “Well, don’t let me keep you from finishing. I’ll just take a quick snooze here. Wake me when you’re done.”

  He’d just stretched out onto his stomach, when something cool drizzled onto his back. “What—?” He started to push himself back up, but Louisa’s hands over his shoulder blades pushed him down again.

  “Sunscreen,” she explained, understanding his cryptic question. “I’m sure you forgot to put some on, didn’t you? Don’t you know this is the worst time of day to be in the sun?”

  He did know that, and was about to tell her he’d already applied sunscreen, when her hands started rubbing the cool lotion into his warm skin. She began in the middle, between his shoulder blades, and worked her way out. Her touch was firm but gentle as her fingers glided over him. He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the feeling of her caressing his bare skin.

  As she worked the lotion into his upper back and shoulders, she asked, “When did you become so buff, Mr. D’Angelo?” Her tone seemed carefully light.

  Gabe didn’t want to read anything more into her question than she’d meant, so he kept his voice equally light as he said, “I started working out with weights as physical therapy for my back after the accident, and I got hooked. Staying fit motivates me to stay away from the booze, too.” He would have elaborated, but her hands slipped downward and slid across his waist, right above his jeans. He didn’t trust his voice to speak again.

  He heard the lid snap onto the sunscreen bottle as Louisa said, “Well, you look great, Gabriel. I meant to tell you that before.”

  He rolled to his side and propped himself onto an elbow. “I thought you said I looked old.”

  There was that blush again. “Older. I said you looked older.” She pulled a towel from her tote bag and wiped the lotion from her hands. “There’s a difference.”

  He watched her with narrowed eyes as she picked up her art box and set it back on her lap. Without looking at him, she waved his gaze away, hinting she wanted to finish her drawing.

  He sighed and rolled back to his stomach, resting his face on his hands. He couldn’t let himself be affected by her words or by the way she’d so carefully rubbed the sunscreen onto him. Nor could he be affected by the way she’d looked at him as he’d approached. There had been no mistaking the desire in her eyes and in the parting of her lips.

  No matter how much he might like to satisfy that desire—not to mention his own—he wouldn’t. Their past and the old problems hung between them like a broken bridge. Until it was mended, if that was even possible, he certainly wouldn’t be the one to make the first move. He’d given her his word.

  ****

  Gabe woke up with a gentle nudging on his shoulder. He rolled over groggily. “Did I fall asleep?” he asked as he swung up to a sitting position.

  She nodded and grinned. “Only for about an hour.”

  “An hour?” It had felt like two or three minutes, tops.

  “You obviously needed it. I mean, you didn’t sleep much last night, thanks to me waking you up.” She dropped her gaze.

  He wanted to hold her in the worst way, tell her he could be there for every storm if she’d have him back. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. “No Arty or Sarah?”

  She shook her head. “I think maybe this was deliberate on their part.”

  “You mean they’re giving us a taste of their own medicine?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  He shrugged and thought about that, none too upset that the other couple might not be joining them. He nodded to her drawing. “Let me see what you’ve done.”

  She reached for her artwork. When she turned back toward him, she looked about to say something, but finally just handed over the heavy paper.

  He studied it with narrowed eyes for several moments.

  “Well?”

  He finally lifted his head. “You haven’t touched a pastel in five years, yet you come up with this?”

  “You like it then?” She spoke the words slowly as if unsure of his meaning.

  “Lou, it’s fantastic. I’d forgotten how good you are.” He glanced around. “Did you draw this from memory, or—?”

  She shook her head. “The kids in the picture were playing in that driftwood over there,” she pointed behind them, “and I was able to sketch them out before they ran off.”

  The drawing was of two children, a boy and a girl, sitting in the shade of a gnarled piece of driftwood, the sun glinting off their hats and the white shells they were using to dig in the sand. She’d captured the innocence and charm of the moment with simple strokes and soft use of color.

  He shook his head. “You have to start painting again, Lou. You have too much talent to let it go to waste.”

  Smiling, she took the paper back from him, laying it carefully inside the wooden carrying case and shutting the lid. “I didn’t realized how much I’ve missed this.” She sighed, a dreamy expression on her face. “You know what I would love, Gabriel? I’d love to be able to draw or paint for a living. To have my own studio, get up in the morning, throw on an old smock and dive into my art.”

  “What’s stopping you?”

  “Oh, just the small matter of needing to pay the bills.” She gave him a pointed look from beneath the brim of her hat. “I can’t sell my work for thousands of dollars unlike somebody else I know.”

  He leaned onto his elbow. “What about after you marry Evan?”

  “What about it?” She kept her eyes lowered as she tidied up their things.

  “He’s a successful guy, couldn’t you afford to paint full time once you’re married?”

  She bit her lip and didn’t answer for a moment. “I hadn’t really thought about it,” she said slowly.

  “What does Evan say about all this?”

  She turned several shades of red as he watched. “Not, uh, much.”

  “You’ve never told him about your dream, have you?”

  She rose and brushed sand from the backs of her legs, sand that had crept onto the blanket with the wind. “It’s never come up.”

  He stood up beside her. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve wanted to be an artist. You went so far as to major in fine art in college. You were always painting or drawing, Lou. How could such a passion never come up with your fiancé?”

  She stepped off the blanket and waited for him to do the same, then she reached for the nearest corners. “I know what you’re implying, Gabriel, and I don’t appreciate it.” />
  He grabbed the opposite corners of the blanket and helped her fold it up. “What am I implying?”

  “You’re trying to point out flaws in my relationship with Evan.”

  Is that what he’d been doing? He grabbed the folded blanket from her and picked up the cooler with his other hand. “I didn’t mean it to come across that way. I’m just amazed Evan doesn’t know about your incredible talent.”

  Louisa contemplated his sincerity a moment, then nodded her head. She peered at him from under her lashes. “You really think I’m good?”

  “I really do.”

  “Thank you, Gabriel.” He had a way of making her feel so good. She clamped a hand on her hat as a gust of wind blew through them. “And thank you for the gift. It was very sweet.”

  The simple words seemed inadequate, so she touched his shoulder, stood on tiptoes and kissed him. It was just a flicker of a contact, hardly a kiss at all, but it was enough to smell the salty air on his skin, enough to feel the warmth of his mouth. Enough to hear his soft intake of breath.

  She pulled back to see his reaction. His eyes were narrowed, his jaw set. He didn’t make a move toward her, didn’t suggest in any way that they continue the kiss, but she felt herself leaning forward, drawn in by his eyes.

  Still holding on to her hat with one hand, her other hand resting lightly on his shoulder, she leaned in and met his lips for another brief kiss. But this time she didn’t pull completely away. She stayed close enough to feel his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of her mouth.

  Louisa knew she should step back and continue gathering up their things, but she desperately wanted to feel his mouth against hers again, if only for a moment.

  Her eyes were closed, so she didn’t see him move. But the tingle on her lips told her he was going to kiss her.

  Gabe’s mouth closed softly over hers. Her heart pounded in her chest and the blood raced through her veins to shift her pulse points into high gear. Her body reacted to him with even this chaste little kiss, she thought dimly. She flicked her tongue out, just wanting to see how he tasted, to imprint it into her memory so she’d never forget.

  He must have taken her move as an invitation, because suddenly he persuaded her lips further open, his tongue pressing in to taste her, thrill her. She held her breath as he slowly explored every part of her mouth, his tongue gliding over her teeth then softly licking and nibbling at her lower lip.

  It was a gentle, slow kiss, but all empowering in its intensity. Louisa’s hand fell from her hat to dangle helplessly at her side. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, wanted to feel his arms around her, but she was powerless to move. Except for where her fingers grazed the top of his shoulder, their bodies didn’t touch. But they might as well have been pressed tightly together from the way her skin burned.

  The wind blew onto their flushed faces as they kissed, a stronger gust coming up from the water to nudge the hat from her head.

  The spell was broken.

  Louisa retreated a step, watching as Gabe somehow managed to catch the hat before it blew away.

  Wordlessly, he handed it to her. She pulled it firmly down on top of her curls, keeping her eyes lowered. She finally glanced up at him, her lips quivering from his kiss.

  She knew she must have a medley of emotions dancing through her eyes. From the way he looked at her, she figured he must see her uncertainty.

  “Lou.” He brushed a finger along her jaw-line. “Just consider that a kiss between old friends. Nothing more. Okay?”

  Is that all she wanted it to be? She nodded and forced a smile.

  “Shall we head back?”

  Her cheeks burned. “I’ll meet you up in the park,” she said. “I’d, uh, like to stay down here a few more minutes if you don’t mind.”

  She was pretty sure they both needed to compose themselves. And she needed to do her best to erase thoughts of his delicious mouth from her mind and heart.

  Gabe grabbed their things and started up the path, leaving her alone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After staring out over the water for countless minutes, trying to catch her breath, Louisa headed up into the park.

  The beautiful grounds were filled with people now, everyone out enjoying the balmy weather on this holiday weekend. Families, picnics, Frisbees, children . . . As if on cue, a delighted shriek floated down from the play area, drawing Louisa toward it like a magnet.

  She rounded a giant rhododendron, her fingers flitting over the flowerless branches, and was greeted by swings, monkey bars, and slides. All full of children. Happy children.

  Her step was slow as she climbed the hill. She loved watching kids play. They were so carefree, so innocent. So . . . alive. With a deep, shuddering breath, she headed toward a dark green glider swing in view of the play area.

  Placing the tote at her side, she pushed the swing into a gentle glide using the plank at her feet, letting the rhythmic motion soothe her taut nerves. A little girl ran past the swing, laughing and screaming as a boy chased after her. She scurried onto the monkey bars in an obvious attempt to get away, but the boy was relentless. He caught her at the top and gave her a big smacking kiss on the cheek. The girl shrieked and wiped her face with the back of her hand, calling out, “Mommy, he kissed me! Tell him to stop it!” The little boy laughed and climbed down to find another conquest.

  Louisa smiled through blurry eyes at the boy’s antics, realizing he was about the age Joey would be now. A tear spilled onto her cheek, rolling unaided until it dropped onto the front of her shirt.

  The swing moved, and she knew Gabe had joined her without having to look up. She didn’t bother wiping her cheek, figuring he’d probably seen the wetness already.

  “I put the things in the car,” he said quietly.

  She nodded without glancing his way. He said nothing more, but helped her glide the swing to and fro.

  “It’s so unfair,” she whispered, finding her voice. Nodding her head to the boy who fought with another boy over a swing, she said, “Joey would have been about that age. He would have been fighting with other kids, chasing girls and kissing them.” Her eyes full of tears, she glanced at Gabe. “Why did it happen? Why?” The last word came on the edge of a sob.

  A dull knife turned sharply in Gabe’s gut as Louisa turned away from him again. What could he say? He’d asked himself the same question for years. He’d asked that question about a lot of things in his life. He feared the pain would never go away.

  She cried silently, big tears rolling down her cheeks, her small chin trembling valiantly. The old blame crept up on him, from where it was always hiding just beyond his reach, lingering over his shoulder.

  Her hand rested on the glider between them, and he covered it with his. When her shoulders began to shake, he interlaced their fingers and squeezed softly, wanting to comfort her, but unsure what she would accept from him.

  When the little boy ran in front of them, laughing and screaming in delight, she covered her face with her free hand, then finally pried her fingers from his grasp and turned her shoulders away. With a heavy heart, he watched as she composed herself, coming to grips with her emotions without his help.

  He breathed a ragged sigh and stepped off the swing. When she didn’t look over, he walked stiffly away.

  ****

  Gabe was leaving. The knowledge drifted into Louisa’s consciousness as she pulled herself together. She closed her tear-stung eyes.

  Gabe was leaving. She swiveled on the seat and watched him disappear around a hedge, heading toward the park exit. A slow burn raged through her veins, culminating in her clenched fists and shallow breaths.

  Grabbing the tote from her side, she jumped from the swing, catching up with him just as he skirted the wrought-iron entrance gate. “Where are you going?” He turned as she grabbed his arm. “Why do you always walk away?”

  The sadness and surprise on his face were quickly covered by that impenetrable mask. “You didn’t want me there, Louisa. You n
eeded your space.” His deep voice was cool, controlled. No sign of the emotions hidden deep inside.

  “So you left.” The old frustrations slammed her in the chest, and her vision swam behind tears, her breathing ragged and shallow. “Damn you, Gabriel,” she cried softly. “Why can’t you talk to me? You’re closing me off again, just like before.” A sob bubbled in her throat, catching her voice. “Why do you always have to leave?”

  He closed his eyes. When he finally opened them, the mask was gone. In its place was an inordinate amount of pain. “Because you’re always pushing me away.”

  She opened her mouth to spit a denial, to defend herself, but nothing came out but a startled gasp. When she finally found her voice, all she managed was, “What?”

  “Every time I try to comfort you, you push me away.”

  “That’s not true!”

  His soulful gaze tore at her. “Isn’t it? Last night during the storm, you practically sprinted out of my arms. And just now at the playground, I knew what you were feeling because I feel that way every time I see a child Joey’s age. But you wanted nothing to do with me. It was the same way after the accident.”

  She frantically tried to process his words. She’d been pushing him away? No. It wasn’t true… She took a calming breath. “I could say the same thing about you, you know. You were so unreachable, you wouldn’t talk to me. You were always gone, spending more time with your precious camera than with me.”

  “I know I have a tendency to withdraw into myself when something upsets me, but I’ve always been like that.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’m tired of taking all the blame for this, Louisa. I just can’t do it anymore.”

  “All the blame?” she cried. “You should take all the blame. You left me, not the other way around.”

  “I would have come back in a heartbeat if you’d asked. Instead, you sent divorce papers.” His voice caught, and he tried to cover it with a cough.

  “W-well, I wouldn’t have sent them if you hadn’t left in the first place. Don’t blame this on me, Gabriel. Don’t you dare blame this on me!”