The Spark of a Kiss

by Sarah Gay

She relaxed her elbows into the counter and studied him for a minute. “You got that?”

  “Of course. It was cute, but not humorous. Our captain was the first man down.”

  She feared his answer, but forced the question out, “Is that how you see it?”

  “That’s how I saw it.”

  Her heart raced. “And how do you see it now?”

  Dax plated the fried eggs and slid them in front of her. “I’m already lost, but it feels like I’ve found paradise. A paradise I don’t ever want to leave.” He touched her hand. “You don’t have to say anything.” Light permeated his eyes, causing them to brighten to a tawny yellow. “I just want to spend time with you.”

  “I’m good with that.” Her voice was steady, but her body burned, and her mind blurred and swirled with hope.

  This could be the real thing.

  Dax scrutinized the bullseye on Julia’s bathroom window. Julia had recently drifted off to sleep, or he would have asked her to explain it.

  Something felt off. He had an unsettling feeling that he couldn’t seem to shake. Julia and Abi were now using their alarm system, and the front door alarm worked. He assumed if the windows were triggered, they would effectively siren as well.

  He clenched his fists as he made his way to the kitchen. With his hands chopping, he would forget the patient convulsing in her hotel room last night. Her friends screamed as he stabilized the teenage girl, but her prognosis didn’t look good. Drugs. He slammed a fresh chicken onto the counter, its bones cracking under the weight as he pressed down then cut the limbs off. He took in a deep breath as he placed the pieces of chicken in the pot of boiling water he had started before checking on Julia. He could have used some calming conversation, but maybe it was better she slept, not having to witness his “therapy session” with the piece of meat that would become chicken broth.

  After an hour of dicing and simmering to smooth music, Dax had reconciled his brain with the events of last night. He carried the tray carefully to Julia’s room. She was still low on fluids; soup would do the trick.

  Julia stirred when he lightly knocked on the door before entering her room. “Hey,” her eyes blinked at the light filtering in through her window as she sat up.

  He set the tray on the dresser and adjusted the shutters to divert the streaming light. “I made you some soup.”

  She groaned.

  “You don’t like soup?”

  “Not chicken soup.”

  “Well that’s good, because this is hot and sour soup.”

  “Like spicy and super acidic?” She contorted her face into an expression of fear. “I thought you were trying to make my stomach better.”

  He laughed. “I am. It’s the ultimate heal quick soup. It has ginger, garlic, mushrooms…” He tapped his finger on his chin as his eyes went to the ceiling. “…eggs and tofu for protein.”

  “Okay.” She waved for him to bring it over. “Sorry if I seem unappreciative. I am grateful you’re here and would love to try your soup.”

  He settled the tray over her legs.

  “Two bowls? You eating too?”

  “You better believe it. This stuff is delicious.” He sat next to her in bed, then pulled his iPad off the nightstand. “Abi said you would want to watch a Rom-Com, so I picked one out.”

  Dax signed in to his account and brought up the movie. As it started into the first scene Julia grunted.

  “The Green Mile?” she said with scrunched brows. “You consider that a Rom-Com?”

  “Thought it was right up your alley. Attorneys and jails.”

  “And darkness and misery.”

  “About that, there is this amazing guy who has this power and saves people but then is wrongly accused and executed.”

  “Touching story—how it echoes Christ’s life, but not real. It’s Hollywood. In real life, the evidence convicts the perp.” She slowly took her first spoonful of soup. “Oh, that is so good.” She stared down into the bowl for a minute. “But so was the chicken soup.”

  “You’re getting better. Eat more,” he encouraged. “Can you tell if someone is innocent or guilty just by looking at them?”

  “What kind of a question is that?” She took another large spoonful. “The law is: innocent until proven guilty.”

  “Right, but can’t you sometimes sense someone’s goodness?”

  She gave him a crooked smile. “You’ve been talking to Abi.”

  He put his hands in the air to signal his surrender. “Do you really see light in people?”

  “It isn’t always a sure thing. For instance, I’ve had clients that were sociopaths. They didn’t, or couldn’t, feel empathy. The prisons are filled with them. They were neglected and abused as infants or toddlers and this is the consequence.”

  “How did you know they were sociopaths?”

  “They were eventually certified by a licensed doctor, but I knew before. It’s hard to explain.”

  “Try. I’d like to understand.”

  She waved her spoon in the air. “When someone does something against their conscience, they feel guilt, and their light wanes. For sociopaths, they don’t feel guilt. They don’t care if they hurt others. Their faces are innocent and clear.” She took another sip of soup then played with the spoon in her mouth for a moment. “But they don’t shine like people who love those around them.” She paused. “But their countenance isn’t dark either. They seem like nice people, and their victims don’t know to be on their guard.” She shook her head. “Does that make any sense?”

  “Absolutely.” He blew out a breath. Her insight floored him. “But are you convinced they don’t get a sick thrill out of hurting people.”

  “I’m sure some do, but I hate to think that way.”

  “Tell me about that bulls-eye in your bathroom.”

  “It’s nothing.” She stuck her hands under the covers as they began to shake. “Just some neighborhood kids with spit wads.”

  He didn’t like how she was brushing off her fear. Yes, confront fear and don’t let it rule you, but take caution and talk. He’d pull it out of her.

  “You sure that’s all it is? Because if someone’s messing with you, we need to put an end to it. Right here. Right now.”

  “No one is messing with me.” She sighed. “I think it’s time for a pick-me-up with a happy ending.”

  “I’m here for you when you need me, but I’ll also make sure you get the space you need.” He could tell she wouldn’t budge, and he didn’t want her to see him as another controlling guy. He’d keep a close watch from here on out. “Touching Rom-Com movie?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  He willed a straight face as he pulled up the next flick. “How about this one?”

  “Seriously?” She tilted her head down and gave a dramatic blink of her eyes. “Shawshank Redemption?”

  “What?” He shrugged as she punched his bicep. “It has a happy ending.” He had ten similar movies in his cue to tease her with, but why stop there? He could do this the rest of his life.

  She pulled the iPad from his hands. It only took her a minute to pick out a movie. “Here.” She demonstrated the screen to him. “How about this one?”

  Dax scrunched his nose at her selection. “Let’s do it.”

  He settled back into the pillows before studying Julia’s profile as she drifted off into Jane Austen’s world of Pride and Prejudice. He couldn’t stand that show, but she liked it. If watching a Jane Austen with her would make her happy, he’d do it. But could he watch chick flicks with her for the rest of his life? He groaned as he rubbed his face. This girl had his head spinning. He shouldn’t be thinking about marriage this early on in the game. He never thought about marriage, and he needed to figure out his issues before he allowed that notion to infiltrate his mind again.

  Dax rolled his eyes as Julia released a cooing sound when Mr. Darcy crossed the dance floor. Why did girls swoon over such girly men? He’d try to get her to watch a Die Hard movie next, then she’d see a real
man in action.

  The screen to his phone lit as he pressed his thumb to unlock it. It was time to search for flights to Brazil and make peace with his past.

  9

  Julia repositioned the lawn chair in her back yard to face the sunlight. At fifty degrees outside and sunny, it may as well have been a mid-summer’s day in Park City. She could forego her vitamin D supplement today; half an hour of basking in the sun would provide her with the nourishment she needed.

  After her bout with the flu last month, the atypical early February thaw was sunshine on a stick. Half the snowpack had already melted, leaving her yard to suffer the brunt of it. It mimicked the murky canvas of an Impressionist artist, with muted sections of swirling green grasses, tumbling weeds, and ashen ice patches.

  Trees speckled her yard, with one very large and ominous tree mocking the others with its thorny branches. The sprawling shoots at the base of the tree shook as three jackrabbits scattered across her lawn as if fleeing a predator.

  Julia lay back down, rotated onto her stomach, and enjoyed how the sun toasted her bare arms and shoulders. Her chest warmed at the thought of spending the evening with Dax. Who needed sun? All she had to do was think about her boyfriend for her temperature to spike.

  She marveled at the complexity of their young relationship. She had never experienced anything quite so profound or scintillating before. Not even with Chase. She had planned on breaking off the weeklong romance with Chase, but, when she suddenly fell ill, resulting in a horrible stint in the hospital, he had nursed her back to health. She grew to appreciate and love him, but the attraction wasn’t strong. For eighteen long months, she willed those sparks to glow between them, but they never did. When she broke it off, he didn’t take it well, but she still mourned the loss of his friendship and worried she would never find someone to light her fire, until now. If Chase was a match, then Dax was a forest fire. Julia now understood the importance of friendship coupled with fire.

  It had happened so effortlessly. She and Dax had fallen silently into an exclusive relationship. Never formally discussing their wishes or affection, they simply slipped into the comfortable routine of seeing each other every day, minus the long days and nights at the station—but even then, they communicated through texts and Facebook. Dax’s Facebook posts and messages were infrequent, but always more tender and intimate than their phone conversations or texts. He had even disclosed how he wished he could be more of a man for her; take on a supportive role by becoming more involved in his family’s jewelry business. His overall income was comparable to hers, and she could more than support herself on her own, but he seemed to be unsatisfied with their current situation.

  She turned on her side and contemplated the majestic peaks sprinkled with sugary snow. Her skis would hit the back-country hard at the next sign of precipitation.

  A sharp light penetrated her cornea, interrupting her happy thoughts with temporary blindness. She blinked and sat up, shifting her head to avoid the dart of light continuing to threaten her eyesight.

  Her eyes followed the light’s trail to a clump of bushes a few feet beyond the Russian Olive tree. Her first instinct was to run inside the house, but curiosity and anger won over her initial impulse. Instead of running away from the light, she jumped up and ran toward it with a commanding shout. “Hey!”

  Julia pushed through the prickly tree limbs and thick brush with concerted effort, leaving her legs with several burning scratches that wept hot blood. When she reached the light’s origin, she took in a sharp breath. The ice-patched, open grassy area behind the bushes was littered with candy bar wrappers, crumpled soda cans, and a broken mirror the size of her hand. The perp had recently been there and dropped the incriminating evidence. She whipped her head up and spun in a slow circle, straining to hear the perp’s movements, but her heart thumped hard against her chest, drowning her ears with its beat. He had fled, the coward.

  She leaned down to retrieve the mirror, but, when she noticed a fingerprint on the glass, she grabbed a twisted stick next to the mirror instead. She contemplated contacting the police, but no crime had been committed, other than trespassing and littering, and this section of woods wasn’t her property. She decided to return with few plastic bags to recover the evidence. She would crack this case herself. Hopefully the perp would turn out to be little kids pretending to be spies. She had done her own spying as a kid. And the aluminum cans contained soda, not beer.

  She took a few minutes to carefully make her way to her house through the itchy underbrush to get the evidence bags. She didn’t want any additional bloody scratches. The bushes rustled behind her. Infuriated that someone was still watching her, she turned abruptly, screamed a war cry, and waved her stick in the air as she ran back to the open lair beyond the bushes.

  When she reached the clearing, fear took command of her chest for a second time, rendering her unable to breathe. The mirror, along with the candy wrappers and soda cans, had disappeared.

  Heavy footsteps pounded the earth behind her. Julia spun around, swinging her stick in the air at her head’s height. Dax ducked, but his quick movement caused him to slip on the muddy snow. Julia wrapped her arms around his waist to steady him. Not one of her best ideas. They tumbled to the ground, their arms and legs tangled up like the twisted tree at their side.

  “Jules!” Dax took her face in his hands. “You okay?”

  “Sure.” She suddenly felt like a complete idiot. She jumped up and attempted to dust herself off, but the mud on her capris merely smeared at her touch. How would she explain this? “Why do you ask?”

  Dax stood with a shake of his head. His hands slid down from her shoulders to her upper arms and held her firmly. “What are you doing out here yelling and swinging a stick around at ghosts?”

  She sighed. “I saw a light.”

  “A light? Like how you see light in people you think are good?” His face held an expression of concern. “You were chasing a ghost? I was just kidding about that.” He cradled her into a hug.

  “No.” Her body relaxed at his embrace. “Someone was directing sunlight into my eyes with a mirror. I followed the light to this clearing and found a broken mirror.”

  He pulled at his ear as he scanned the ground. His eyes hardened as they settled on her. “Someone was out here?”

  “Yes. But it could have been kids.”

  “Wait.” His tone changed to anger. “You’re telling me that someone was out here watching you and you ran toward the guy? I thought we agreed you’d run away from danger, not at it.”

  “Whoever they are, they want to scare me. I won’t let him/her/them.” She shook her head. “Just like the red darts.”

  Dax clenched his fists. “Red dots? The bullseye?” The birthmark on his neck flushed to the surface. “This guy has been out here in your backyard stalking you for over a month, and this is the first time we’re talking about this?” The vein in his neck bulged. “I’m not leaving you. I’m not going to Brazil tomorrow.”

  She wiped the mud from her palms onto the back pockets of her pants. “That’s ridiculous.” She held his hand as they made their way back through the thorns to her house. “It’s just some kids playing around.” If she could convince Dax, then maybe she could convince herself it was nothing. “I’m fine. You can explore those business options, and you’ll be back in a week, on my birthday.”

  “Then come with me,” Dax begged.

  Her gaze remained focused on her house. If she looked into those golden eyes, she might cave, say yes, and blow off her career. “I can’t. You know I have court this week.”

  “Call one of your lawyer friends to take your case,” he suggested.

  She removed her muddy shoes and socks at the back door. “It doesn’t work like that.” Her body chilled instantly in the shade, causing a flurry of goosebumps to erupt down her arms and legs. “I can’t just call one of my sushi buddies to cover my shift.”

  “Why are you blowing this off?” Anger returned to his voic
e.

  “It’s nothing. I can take care of myself!”

  “I know you can.” He threw his hands in the air and turned in a slow circle. “But why would you want to.” He patted his chest. “You have me now.”

  “If you think I can take care of myself then let me.”

  “But it’s my job to take care of you now.”

  “No, it’s not.” She shook a finger in the air. He had no right to try and control her. “I never asked you to do that.”

  He rubbed a palm across his forehead. Of course you didn’t, Jules. No one should ever have to ask someone they care about to protect them. I need you as much as you need me.”

  His hands found hers and his demeanor softened. “When I’m with you, all of the trash I have to deal with at work washes away. You’re the soothing balm of home. You give me comfort that I haven’t had in so long. Please let me take care of you. Let me find out who’s been stalking you and beat the daylights out of him.”

  She pushed his hands away. “So, violence is your answer?” She cocked an eyebrow. “We have no evidence that I have a stalker.” She straightened her back. “I won’t ever allow another man to control my life.” She pointed at him. “Not you or anyone else. I care about you, but I don’t need you.”

  Dax clenched his fists at his side. “I don’t want to control you, Jules!” He turned and stomped to the front door before looking back at her. “You really don’t get me.” His eyes shadowed with pain.

  She hadn’t meant to hurt him. If only she would allow herself to wrap her arms around his neck and apologize to him for being so stern, but she couldn’t. She had to stand her ground. What would she have to do to get him to understand that she wanted him, but she didn’t need him?

  “Please don’t leave angry, Dax,” she pleaded.

  “Protecting someone is not controlling them.” He kicked at an icy snowbank as he walked away.

  Julia leaned against the wall, releasing her remorse in a shower of tears. She may have just made the biggest mistake of her life.