Wait for the Rain

by Murnane, Maria

He picked up a laminated list of drink specials and studied the options. “Hmm. How about a Treasure Chest? Or a Booty Drop?”

  She gave him a look. “There’s really a drink called Booty Drop?”

  He pointed to the menu. “Swear to God. I couldn’t make up something that bad.”

  She smiled. “Okay then, I’ll try a Booty Drop. Why not, right?”

  “Do you want to know what’s in it?”

  “Not really. I prefer not to know, actually.” I’m scared to know, actually.

  He arched his eyebrows. “Going in blind, are we now? Are you always this adventurous?”

  She smiled. “Not really. Maybe.” I want to be. I used to be.

  “I like your attitude. Why don’t you grab one of those high tables, and I’ll order the drinks.”

  “Sounds good.” I’m liking my attitude too.

  She climbed onto a wooden stool and observed her surroundings. The place was about half-full and hummed with conversation, but it felt downright subdued compared to the mayhem they’d just experienced. The demographic here was also noticeably older than that of the Castaway, and Daphne felt like she’d left—make that escaped from—a college fraternity party to join an adult cocktail party. Civilized, calm, and pleasant. She loved it. This is much more my style.

  As if on cue, soft island-style music began playing in the background. Daphne smiled, and for the first time wondered why she’d been so fixated on turning forty. Yes, it was a big milestone, but the earth was still rotating. She was also pretty sure the sun was going to come up in a few hours. Maybe she’d let this birthday take on too much symbolism? Maybe it was time to stop being so afraid of starting over?

  Clay approached with their drinks. He took a seat and handed her a glass, then raised his to hers. “Happy birthday, Daphne White. Here’s to a long and happy life.”

  She clinked her glass against his. “Thank you, Clay Hanson.” Clay Handsome.

  Without realizing it, Daphne found herself studying him as they each sipped their drink.

  “What?” he finally said, touching his cheeks and chin. “Do I have something on my face?”

  She laughed and shook her head. “No.”

  “Then what?”

  She took a deep breath. Just say it.

  “To be honest, I didn’t expect to be ringing in my birthday with the likes of you.”

  Clay narrowed his eyes. “The likes of me? Am I that unappealing?”

  She blushed. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. It’s just that . . .” She looked down.

  “Do you think there’s a warrant out for my arrest or something?”

  She laughed and regained eye contact. “I highly doubt the police are on your heels. What I was trying to say is that . . .” Do it!

  She took another deep breath, then continued. “What I was trying to say is that I haven’t been out for a drink with anyone since my ex-husband and I split up. Not that this is a date or anything, but I’m just feeling a little out of my comfort zone even being here. I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

  “When did you get divorced?”

  “We separated over two years ago, but the divorce wasn’t final until recently.”

  “Do you have kids?”

  “A daughter, she’s fifteen.”

  “For real? You look way too young to have a fifteen-year-old daughter.”

  She laughed and pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Tell that to her.”

  “You haven’t been on a date in more than two years?”

  She blushed and cast her eyes downward. “No.”

  He finished his drink and set the glass on the table. “Then let’s call this a date.”

  “What?” She looked up at him.

  “You heard me. I’m a man, you’re a woman, we’re having a drink, on the beach in St. Mirika, I might add.” He gestured to himself and then to her, then pointed toward the ocean. “I say we label this a date.”

  She felt her cheeks flush and stared at the table again, too flustered—and thrilled—to respond. Is this really happening?

  Before she could say anything, the unmistakable roar of thunder shook the Pirate’s Cove. They both looked out at the ocean, then up at the sky.

  “It’s going to pour,” Clay said. “Happens all the time here.”

  Daphne gazed wistfully toward the water again. “So I’ve heard.”

  “Do you like rain?”

  She tapped her fingertips on the table. “I didn’t used to, but the rain here is different. It’s so warm, and soothing. I find it . . . enchanting.”

  “Your hands are enchanting,” he said. “Very elegant.”

  Caught off guard by the non sequitur, she stopped tapping and looked at her fingers, suddenly self-conscious. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  “And for the record, I wasn’t just saying all that to be nice,” he said.

  She slowly looked up at him. “You weren’t just saying what?” She practically whispered the words.

  “When I said that you look great for any age, or that you look way too young to have a fifteen-year-old.”

  She felt her cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink. Acknowledging her age was one thing. Discussing it was another.

  “Am I making you uncomfortable, Daphne White?”

  “A little. Maybe we can change the subject?”

  He put a hand over hers. “Sure. How about we talk about how I was serious when I said we should call this a date?”

  She swallowed and felt her insides stir at the touch of his skin on hers. Oh my gosh. This is really happening.

  He began to move his thumb over her hand. “Does it make you nervous that I find you attractive? You seem nervous.”

  She swallowed and pulled her hand away from his to pick up her glass. “A little.”

  He chuckled. “You’re totally nervous right now. It’s cute.”

  She took a sip of her drink. “So . . . what happened to the girl?”

  “What girl?”

  “The blonde one you were with at the Castaway?” The pretty one hanging off you like a necklace?

  He shrugged. “She was nice enough, but not for me.”

  Daphne sipped her drink again. “Is that so?”

  “That is so. Plus, if you hadn’t noticed, I’ve had my eye on someone else tonight.”

  She gave him a playful look. “Hmm. Interesting.” He likes me!

  He stared at her. “Yes, interesting. I know you’re older than I am, Daphne, but if it’s not obvious by now, I don’t care about age. To be honest, I like you because you’re older. It makes you different.” He began to stroke her forearm with his fingers, and she felt a flurry of tiny sparks flashing throughout her body.

  He kept stroking her arm. “That younger woman tonight? I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find her attractive, but with you . . . let’s just say there’s something appealing about dealing with . . . a more sophisticated buyer.”

  She laughed. “So I’m a harder sell?” If you only knew how unsophisticated I feel right now.

  “In a way, yes. Now dance with me.” He set down his drink and reached for her hand, then pulled her onto the tiny dance floor. He put his hands around her lower back, and together they began to sway to the reggae music. Just one other pair shared the space, a married couple Daphne guessed to be in their fifties. They gave Daphne and Clay a friendly smile before returning their attention to each other.

  “The way you carry yourself is elegant, like a ballerina,” Clay said. “I noticed that right away when I saw you on the beach yesterday.”

  “I used to take dance classes when I was younger,” she said.

  He pulled her closer to him. “I can tell. It’s sexy.”

  She looked up at him. “So you like a challenge? Is that what this is about?”

  He tucked
a free strand of hair behind her ear, then returned his hand behind her lower back. “Let’s stop overanalyzing it, okay? I find you attractive, period.”

  She smiled. “Really?”

  “Yes. From the moment I saw you, I was interested, and that’s only grown as I’ve gotten to know you a little bit. You’re pretty, and you’re fun to talk to, but I don’t want to talk right now.” He pulled her even closer, then leaned down and gently touched his lips against hers. She was too surprised to resist, not that she wanted to. As she’d just admitted to him, she hadn’t kissed anyone in years. Her body responded accordingly. Please do that again.

  The tiny sparks she’d felt had been one thing, but the heat that was now buzzing inside made her a bit dizzy. His lips were warm and soft, and her body instinctively pushed against his.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered into her ear.

  You smell so good. She inhaled deeply to breathe in his scent. She was entranced by it, and she wanted to drink it in.

  “Mmm . . . so hot.” He nuzzled her neck, then kissed her shoulder before moving back to her lips.

  They kissed for a bit longer, then Clay began to caress the back of her neck with his hand. She caught her breath. Oh my God that feels so good.

  Suddenly aware of what was happening in a very public place, she opened her eyes and glanced around to see if anyone was watching them. The older couple was gone now, and as far as she could tell, no one else there was even looking in their direction, which helped make her a bit less self-conscious. The alcohol also served to dim the glow of self-awareness. She tried to remember the last time she’d behaved like this in public, much less on a dance floor, but her memory didn’t reach that far back.

  Her mind was also too distracted at the moment to focus on anything besides how good his hands felt on her, how good his lips felt on her. Please kiss me again.

  “I love your body,” he murmured. “And your posture. I thought maybe you were a yoga instructor.”

  She laughed. “Definitely not.”

  “Well, whatever you’re doing, it’s working.”

  She smiled but didn’t respond to the compliment. If he only knew how her muscles already ached. She really needed to start exercising more often, especially now that she knew guys like Clay Hanson were paying attention.

  Just then they heard another roar, followed by the crashing din of raindrops hitting the roof.

  “There it is,” Clay said as he looked up. “Don’t you just love that sound?”

  Daphne closed her eyes and nodded. “It’s beautiful.”

  He leaned down and spoke softly into her ear again. “You’re beautiful.”

  “I could listen to the rain all night,” she said, her eyes still closed. I could stay like this all night.

  “Can I spend it with you?”

  She pulled away from him and opened her eyes. “What?” Had he read her mind?

  He gave her a suggestive smile and pulled her back toward him. “You heard me.”

  She did her best not to giggle like a teenager, but she couldn’t help herself. “Is this how it works now? I’ve been out of the loop for a while.”

  “You tell me.” He began caressing her shoulder, then lightly ran his fingers up and down her arm.

  She closed her eyes again, so glad she’d worn a sundress, savoring the touch of his hands on her skin. She pressed her cheek against his firm chest, listening to the drumming of the rain on the thatched ceiling above them.

  They swayed like that for few minutes before he spoke again. “Please take me home with you,” he whispered into her ear.

  The question sent a sizzle down her spine. The familiar yet unfamiliar sensation of attraction, mixed with anticipation, stirring something warm inside her. I forgot what this feels like.

  Their bodies pressed together, they continued to slow dance. The rain poured around them in sheets, nearly drowning out the soft sound of the music.

  After a few moments, she spoke quietly in his chest. “Okay.” Come home with me. Make me feel alive again.

  He lifted her chin with his fingertips and smiled down at her. “Is that a yes?”

  She glanced out at the beach. Her friends were long gone by now, and for the first time she wondered if any part of the group’s separation had been intentional. If it had been, she was grateful to whoever had orchestrated it. She turned her eyes back to Clay and felt her lips turn up at the corners. Then she nodded ever so faintly. “That’s a yes.”

  When Clay and Daphne reached her beach house, soaking wet from their walk home in the rain, all the lights were off save for a small one on the back deck. The inside was still and quiet. Daphne peered in the window, then turned toward Clay and put a finger over her lips.

  Clay eyed her with suspicion. “Do you want me to be quiet so we don’t wake them, or so they don’t know I’m here?”

  Daphne tried not to giggle but couldn’t help herself. “Both. Will you take those off?” She pointed to his flip-flops before awkwardly removing her own. “I think you got me a little tipsy.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “So you’re saying I’m taking advantage of you?”

  She reached for the door handle. “Only if you want to.” Please take advantage of me.

  He laughed and scratched the back of his head. “I’m not sure how to take that. That’s hardly a glowing invitation.”

  “Any invitation is better than no invitation, am I right?” She quietly opened the glass door and stepped inside the dark house.

  “Touché,” he said as he followed her.

  “Oh my gosh, it’s dark in here,” Daphne whispered.

  He put a hand on her lower back and kept his deep voice hushed as well. “I like dark. Lead the way to the bedroom so I can get you out of that wet dress.”

  “Scared I might catch cold, are you?” She reached behind her and took his hand, then carefully led him through the living room toward the hall, tiptoeing across the tile floors. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m so glad I’m doing this.

  “I feel like we’re sneaking into your parents’ house,” he said. “If we get caught, are you going to be grounded?”

  Daphne giggled again. “Shh.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d giggled. She also couldn’t remember the last time she’d tiptoed in the dark while holding hands with a man she barely knew. This is so much fun.

  When they reached the kitchen, she noticed two empty bottles of wine on the counter—and two used goblets in the sink. She pointed to them and was about to say something when Clay pulled her toward him and kissed her deeply, stroking her hair as he did so. When they finally broke apart, he gently touched her cheek.

  “I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you,” he whispered.

  She smiled up at him but didn’t say anything, trying to catch her breath. Her mind, at the moment, was consumed by a single thought. Please do it again.

  “You had to know that,” he said.

  “I wasn’t sure.” I hoped, but I didn’t know.

  He put a hand over his heart. “You’re killing me.”

  She put her hand over his. “That’s a criticism of me, not of you. I’m sort of out of practice at this, if you couldn’t tell.”

  He slipped his hands around her lower back, then leaned down and kissed her bare shoulder. “Maybe that’s why I’m so attracted to you.”

  She smiled up at him. “You find it attractive that I can’t even tell when a guy’s flirting with me?” I find that sort of . . . pathetic.

  He grazed her forehead with his fingertips. “I find you attractive because you don’t try too hard. A lot of women my age . . . they try too hard.”

  She cast her eyes downward. A vision of Janine from earlier suddenly flashed before her. I used to be like that. I don’t want to be like that ever again.

  She knew now that by
default women Janine’s age were beautiful and attractive. They didn’t have to try. Youth really is wasted on the young.

  “You smell so good.” He nuzzled her neck. “What perfume are you wearing?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not. Must be my shampoo, or maybe the body lotion I put on? I just grabbed whatever was in the bathroom.”

  He stroked her cheek again. “Another example of not trying too hard. It’s what makes you so sexy.” He lightly tugged at the strap of her sundress. “I think this is sexy too. Simple, yet beautiful.”

  She glanced downward. “You like it?”

  He put his finger on her chin and gently lifted it. “Very much. However, as nice as it looks on you, I think it would look much nicer crumpled up next to the bed.”

  She laughed, then quickly covered her mouth and lowered her voice. “That’s a pretty good line, I’ll give you that. Did you get it from the same guy who gave you the tequila jokes?”

  “I actually came up with it all on my own, so take that as a compliment. Now can we please go make out?”

  Daphne smiled and put a finger to her lips, then gestured for him to follow her down the hall. As silently as was possible for a man his size, Clay tiptoed behind her. A sliver of light shone underneath the door to KC’s room. Skylar’s room, located at the far end, was completely dark. When they arrived in front of her room, Daphne reached for the doorknob, but Clay stopped her before she touched it. He turned her shoulders, then gently pressed her back up against the door.

  “You’re so sexy, Daphne.”

  Before she could respond, he leaned down and moved his lips softly along her neck and shoulder. “You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered.

  Again she felt intoxicated by his scent, by the tingling sensation of his mouth against her skin, by the seductive sound of his breathing. The feeling is mutual.

  After a few moments he lifted his head, stared intensely into her eyes without speaking, then quietly opened the door and pulled her inside.

  Chapter Nine

  When Daphne woke up, the first thing she saw in the soft morning light was Fred. The gecko. Perched on the ceiling directly above her. She smiled at him. Hi, Fred. Can you see me? She was about to stretch her arms over her head, then caught her breath as the memory of the night before hit her. Along with the realization that she wasn’t wearing pajamas. Oh my gosh. She slowly turned her head to the right. Clay lay on his back, sound asleep, breathing deeply. She bit her lip. Oh my gosh. What do I do now? She shut her eyes tight, then opened them and looked back up at the ceiling, trying not to laugh. Fred, tell me what to do!