by Dee C. May
We split a bottle of wine at dinner and, over clam chowder and lobster, I told him about the end of the school year and the summer. He never took his eyes from mine. It wasn’t long before I could feel the heat between us and by the time dinner was over, my body ached again with need. All I wanted was to be home alone with him and feel his hands on me.
I pressed myself into his side as we left the Galleon, and tried to keep my breathing steady. I waited until we got to the Jeep before turning into him and kissing him as he opened the door. He answered my need by pulling me closer.
“I think we should wait for tomorrow.” He whispered in my ear before kissing me back, his lips nibbling, almost playful. I sagged against the Jeep door and pulled him backwards into me.
“I’m okay. Take me home.” His hands ran up and under the hem of my dress, his fingers fluttered against the delicate fabric of my thong. I moaned, every nerve in my body intensified at his touch. “Please,” I begged, rocking my hips forward.
“Bloody hell, Wyn. You’re going to send me over the edge.” He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead on my chest while I tried to stop from panting. When he raised his head, I nodded to make sure he knew this was what I wanted.
In an instant, he lifted me up and over the door and into the seat. I blinked, and he was in the driver’s seat backing out of the parking lot.
“How do you do that?” I asked, breathless. He maneuvered deftly through the old narrow streets and flew down Second Beach Road toward his house.
“I have many hidden talents.” He grinned back wickedly.
“Well, hold onto your hat, Robin Hood, so do I.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.” I licked my lips, undoing my seatbelt, and scooted closer.
***
When I could finally breathe again, I opened my eyes to see the stars shining through the limbs of a tree. Beck lay next to me, his arm shielding his eyes. I sat up and surveyed our surroundings. I didn’t recognize anything, and the lack of a moon didn’t help. South of us, a field seemed to roll away endlessly. I turned around and barely made out the Jeep parked haphazardly under the tree.
“Where are we?”
Beck dropped his arm and grinned at me. “Good God, woman, that’s some hidden talent. You may be the death of me.”
“Look who’s talking,” I quipped, remembering the things his tongued had just done to me.
“You started it.”
He got up, throwing his shirt on in the process. My dress had wound up smushed around my boobs, convenient since all I had to do was pull it down. I gave up trying to find my thong in the dark.
“Where are we?” I asked again, trying to make out more of our surroundings.
“In someone’s field. I thought I was going to drive off the side of the road so I just pulled over. Sorry.” He held his hand out to help me up while brushing leaves out of my hair.
“No apologies needed here. That was new—which is always a nice surprise.”
He chuckled, leading me by the hand to the Jeep, carefully skirting holes and roots.
“Love, since the day I’ve met you, you’ve been surprising me. I’m just lucky to keep up.” I could hear the smile in his voice, even if I couldn’t see his face clearly. He closed the door behind me, leaning in close and inhaling. I leaned back toward him, feeling his cheek near mine, my stomach quivering. Then he was back in the driver’s seat, and we were on the road.
Chapter Seventy-Four
Beck—Home Again
I brought the Jeep to a stop, its tires crunching on the gravel drive, and glanced over at Wynter. She watched me, her head leaning against the headrest. I stared back, wishing I could freeze the moment. I reached out and stroked the side of her cheek. It warmed my hand. She brought her own hand up and covered mine. We sat like that for a minute.
I breathed in her scent but found it mingled with the smell of Marlboro cigarettes. Damn. Couldn’t I get just one whole weekend to myself with her? I must have conveyed something because Wynter bolted up, concern written on her face. “What?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. It’s just Quinn. He’s back a little earlier than I thought.”
She jumped out of the Jeep and headed for the porch, excitement obvious. I followed her, fighting a pang of jealousy.
He sat in his usual spot on the deck, smoking and drinking. Wynter bounded across the yard calling his name. I reached the deck as he stood, arms outstretched to embrace her. “Hey, doll.”
“Quinn. I missed you.” He swung her around and set her lightly back on her feet at my side. I scowled at him. I hated him for the ease with which he interacted with her.
“How are you doing?” He raised his eyebrows at me then laughed. “You couldn’t even get a room in a hotel, for god’s sake? How cheap are you?”
Wynter blushed. I could see her red cheeks even in the dim light of the porch light.
“How did you know?”
“He smells the dirt and grass,” I explained.
“That and the fact she still has leaves on her,” he added, reaching over and pulling a few out of her hair. I must have missed them on the ride home.
She smiled at me. “Well—some things can’t wait.”
“I’ll say,” he answered. She headed toward the door. “Where are you going, luv?”
She leaned back outside. “To the loo, as you Brits say.”
“Bite your tongue. I am not a Brit.” She laughed in response, closing the door behind her.
Quinn turned to me. “Good Lord, man, you guys tore this house apart. And it smells like damn sex everywhere. Except, thankfully, in my room.”
I laughed quietly and dropped into an available chair. I was contentedly exhausted.
He settled back down on the bench. “A bit knackered, huh?”
“Uh-huh.” I smiled at him, not giving an inch. I knew he wanted details, but he wasn’t going to get them from me.
“Did you tell her?”
“Tell her what?”
“Why you came back?”
“Yeah. I told her about Lilly and all that.”
“Did you tell her about the other … connection?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Not exactly.”
“Scared she might think you’re crazy?”
“Maybe.”
“I think you should tell her. You never know what happens.”
“Why are you back here so soon anyway?” I asked, changing the subject. I wasn’t ready to talk about that. “Didn’t you say you’d be a few weeks?”
“Disappointed?”
“Absolutely. We were going to break in your room tonight.”
“Fucker.” He took a drag off his cigarette. “Ireland didn’t go as well as expected.”
“Why not?”
He paused, dragging again, and stared out at the night. It wasn’t often he was reticent. “Well…” he started but stopped.
“Because of me and Wynter?” I finished.
“You could say.”
“Not on the same page?”
“She’s not even in the same chapter.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Not as bad as that hotel bill you’re going to get. We tore the room up a bit.”
“Remind me why I support you?”
“Because you have some odd need to be a contributing member of society, and I unselfishly help you in fulfilling that goal.”
“Thanks. But I’m not made of gold, you know.”
“You could be if you ever sold that friggin’ coin or took Drew up on that offer.”
“Maybe you should go to work for Drew.” I didn’t bother to argue the value of the coin, as Wynter came through the doorway. She had thrown one of my sweatshirts on, and it fell almost to her knees, hiding her dress. I fought for control, imagining her naked under it. She climbed into the seat next to mine, beer bottle in hand, and held one out for me. I wanted to pull her onto my lap but judging from my body’s response to her in my sweatshirt, that would lead t
o more. I took the open bottle, drinking quickly and watching her as she curled her legs underneath her and settled back.
“I had a dream about this,” she commented then took a long swig of beer.
My drink lodged in my throat. Some surprises sucked. I swallowed hard.
“What?” Quinn asked.
“This. Just a few days ago. I dreamed we were sitting out here talking.”
My stomach clenched. I had the same dream, exactly the same.
“What’d we talk about?” I asked carefully.
She grinned, combing her hands through her hair and twisting it up into a knot, sending waves of vanilla and baby powder through the air.
“I don’t know. School, my classes, London. I’ve been having a lot of dreams since you left. With you, of course. A lot of times we’re on a beach.”
Quinn looked at me over her head, widening his eyes. I stared back equally baffled. What the hell did this mean? Could our connection from our unconscious states be translating into the real world? If so, why now? I wondered what Wynter would say if I told her. It was hard enough accepting the abnormal when it was tangible. It was another to believe in altered states where ghosts and sprits existed.
Wynter took another long swallow and smiled at me. My stomach unclenched, as it always did when I was near her. I smiled back. It would be okay. We had been through worse.
Chapter Seventy-Five
Wynter—The Far East
I woke up early, unusual for me. I lay in bed listening to the morning coming awake outside. The birds chirped. I turned to Beck’s sleeping form. He was usually the first one up so I’d never just watched him sleep. He looked peaceful, his hair messed up, one hand folded under his pillow, the other off the side of the bed.
I slid out of bed and quietly got changed for running. I grabbed my iPhone and searched for my headphones and sneakers, glancing at him now and then, but he was still sleeping. It was hard to believe he’d only gotten back a few months ago. The time we’d spent together had flown by, feverish summer nights giving way to cool fall ones, one day blending into another. Some mornings, we scarcely made it out of the bedroom, hardly registered the sun before we traipsed back to bed. He was more open with me now, divulging things he had done in his past, even sharing stories about the others he knew. There were still times he remained reticent and quiet. I tried to accept it, to not question him or doubt myself that he would tire of me. He’d chosen to come back; there was no reason why he wouldn’t stay.
It took all my willpower to head home to the city now that school had started. I dreaded leaving, and hated my empty bed in the apartment. We had agreed to spend the weekdays separate so I could concentrate on school. We kept extending the time, though, with him traveling down to see me on Thursdays and me going back with him and staying over Sundays. I knew my studies were suffering, but I couldn’t care. I’d waited a long time for someone to love like this, for someone to love me.
I found my sneakers under the bed and crept closer to the door, but his free hand gently reached out for me, resting on my calf. I wondered how long he’d been awake.
“Where are you off to?” He mumbled from the pillow.
“I’m going running. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“I spent the night watching you sleep.”
“Sounds boring.”
“Never.” He turned his head and cracked an eye open at me, grinning. “Can I interest you in coming back to bed?”
“No. I need the exercise.”
“Don’t I give you enough?”
“Ha. Plenty, and very satisfying, but I want to run this morning. Want to come?”
He contemplated this. “More than you know.” He smiled slyly with his eyes closed.
“Dirty mind, I meant running. I’ll be back for breakfast. Quinn promised to fight with me this morning. We’re working on my side kicks. You can come down and give me tips, too.”
“No. That’s okay. He is a better fighter than I am. Just don’t tell him I said so.”
I stepped through the doorway. “Hey,” he called, “be careful out there. Don’t get hit by a car.”
“Its eight a.m. on a Sunday. I think I’m fairly safe.”
“Yeah, I know.”
***
It was sunny with a cool breeze that ruffled the turning leaves: the perfect morning for a run. Stretching out my back as I walked up the driveway, I pulled my arm across my body, waiting for that familiar twinge then smiled. I just kept forgetting. I didn’t need to do that anymore. It hadn’t hurt for months now. I thought about the other change since Beck attacked me. My dreams. I’d had lots of nightmares after the accident, but lately, my dreams had changed. Not only did I see Beck, but now a third guy sometimes showed up and stood on the beach with us. Some guy I recognized but sure as hell didn’t remember from where. It was weird. I shook my head to get rid of his image. I was with someone who was basically supernatural so a few strange dreams were nothing in comparison.
Scrolling through my playlist on my phone, I touched the screen and the opening bars to “Viva la Vida” hummed through my earphones. I turned off the dirt road and onto the street, my feet falling into the rhythm of the music pulsing in my ears. I smiled again, this time thinking of Beck’s response if he’d heard the volume of my music. I couldn’t hear my own feet, much less a car on the road.
It was hard to believe that one night in a New London bar had become this. I remembered the night I’d stood on his deck and we talked about Christopher Columbus going off course. A lot had happened since then.
It had taken us a while, but we had finally found the Far East. I smiled, sprinting up Green End Avenue before making the final turn back to his place. We were not a great love story, and I was good with that.
Chapter Seventy-Six
Beck—The Future
I lay in bed after she left, thinking of her naked body. I stretched out and, closing my eyes for a second, listened for her heart. Once I heard it, I relaxed.
I hadn’t yet told Wynter about meeting before, or our mutual dreams. I knew I had to come clean with her, but I didn’t want to jeopardize anything. Besides, I figured it might be easier if I had more information before I divulged the new weirdness that permeated my life. Why was it, once one area of life worked out, another area went out of whack?
I thought about the last few months as I showered. Despite these bumps in the road, things had been good. I wouldn’t have believed it, but I loved her more now than when I had crossed the field at the wedding to kiss her. I wanted her with an intensity I would never have imagined, and worried about her constantly.
The phone rang as I stepped from the shower. I listened for Quinn to answer, but all was silent below so I grabbed it. “Beck,” I answered. There was silence. “Is this a cold call?” I barked into the phone.
“No. It’s Sara.” Her tone was clipped and businesslike.
“Sara. How are you?” I asked, wishing Quinn had picked up and understanding why he hadn’t. I bet he turned his cell phone off trying to avoid her. She must have been desperate to call on this line. She wasn’t one to back down. He hadn’t said much since he had returned, though once or twice I had heard his voice raised in frustration and anger. I assumed he had been talking with her. Only Sara could make him that angry.
“I’m not speaking to you, Beck, until you end this stupidity.” I wondered how long this would go on. I had no intentions of going back.
“Sara. Cut me some slack. I’ve made my decision. You’re just going to have to live with it.”
“I don’t think so, Beck. I don’t think so. Are you really telling me you aren’t going to work anymore? You’re going to walk away and never do another drop. I call bullshit on that.”
“Sara, I know Wynter and I are different, but that doesn’t mean it won’t work.”
“The fuck you do. Have you told her about everything you’ve done? Have you told her how you met?”
Damn it, Quinn! “I’ll get him for you
,” I bit out through clenched teeth. So much for the new tact.
“Thank you.”
I pounded on the basement door until Quinn answered, his eyes at half mast, his hair in disarray.
“What?”
Holding the phone out, I smiled at him sarcastically. He started backing up. “She knows,” I mouthed and handed him the phone. He grabbed it, gesturing at me furiously as I retreated quickly.
I made coffee while contemplating what Sara had said. I didn’t know where our future lay, and I certainly didn’t know about our past and our dreams. I wasn’t stupid or blind. I knew beyond all those strange occurrences that, at a basic level, there were some things that couldn’t be bridged or fixed. I had spent the past year lost in those differences. But I also knew that, when I was with her, all the problems and issues seemed to fade into nothingness. Before her, my life had been violence and death and, though I knew it wasn’t over, at least now I felt some meaning and some peace. I didn’t want to lose her.
She had been right that night on the deck. We were different—but we saw the same horizon—a horizon I knew bridged this world and some part of the next. We had been there together. Maybe it couldn’t make up for everything, but it was a start.
The End
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