“There are lots of things I’d like to say and do right now, but I won’t. I realize this is big for you. Congratulations. Another one bites the dust.” I wink but don’t say a thing about the quiver of her lips as she smiles. I reach for my sweatshirt, which is slumped in a heap covering the bottle of bourbon and two glasses I found in the cooler on our deck earlier. Thank you, Clara and Wild Bill.
“Oh my goodness,” she whispers when I hold up the bottle and both glasses. “You are really something.” She swipes her thumb under one eye, catching a tear.
I set the bottle on the deck and trace the same line under her other eye. “You’re doing great. Look at you soar.”
She takes a deep breath and says, “Thanks. My list is shrinking.”
“You’re doing it. Before you know it, that whole list will be a distant memory.”
“I hope so. I’m trying to replace some crappy memories… I need to make new ones. Thanks for being here for some of them. For encouraging me to be the girl I want to be.”
“What kind of girl is that? Tell me again.” I hand Happy both glasses.
While I twist the top off the bottle, she says, “You know, brave. I’m going to be brave about everything. Delicious and wild and free! This skin condition and my past be damned! I mean, let’s face it. Is there really a choice? I can’t continue to fear the stuff I want. I’m going to conquer this shit!”
“I know you are. I hope I get to be involved in all of it. And I really mean that…all of it.”
“Baby steps,” she says.
I pour a spill of bourbon in our glasses. “Here’s to baby steps.”
We take a few sips in silence. I’m not going to rush anything with her. One wrong step and her entire view of me could fall apart. I’d be one more thing crossed off her list. For all the wrong reasons.
Happy flashes a brief smile then says, “So, what’s your talent?”
“I have a few. And I don’t share them with just anyone.”
She shuffles her legs under her body as she sets her glass on the deck then shoves both hands through her hair. Her well-toned arms and the tops of her breasts catch my gaze.
“I’ll let you choose which one you’d like to experience.”
“My interest is piqued. Multiple hidden talents?” She grins, her whole body relaxing as her shoulders sag.
I tiptoe my fingers toward her hand and brush my knuckles against hers. “I’m not going to bring up the naughty ones.”
“Probably best,” she says, her stare fixed on our hands.
I wish she’d tell me something about the way she’s feeling.
“Do share,” she tells me.
“I can lip-read. Share a sleight-of-hand or let you experience my high pain tolerance.”
She rolls her eyes. “And those aren’t the naughty ones?”
“Not even close.”
“They all sound dirty.” She splashes me and snorts as I sip my bourbon.
Water hits my face and echoes like music. “Anything can sound dirty if you want it to. Mind in the gutter?”
“A little.” She flashes her teeth in a half smile.
“Liar.”
“A lot in the gutter. Fine. You caught me. Tell me the dirty talents, then.”
I grip her hand and flip it over, my thumb massaging her palm. “You want me to elaborate about how good I could make you feel?”
“You don’t mess around, do you?” She inches away from me.
I capture her wrist and pull her close. “Oh, but I do. In fact, I’d love to. You need your virgin cunt fucked more than you need your next breath. Tell me how much. Tell me how bad you need me filling you. You want it, but you can’t get over something. Let me help you get over it.”
“God, you are so filthy, and a mind reader too? You’d probably have your fun with me then move on once my skin condition made its way up my neck and across my face then down my legs. I know how it’ll go.”
“And how’s that? And why am I getting lumped into that bag of dicks? I don’t want you for your skin. I want what’s inside. Yes, you’re beautiful on the outside, and yes, it may change, but so will everyone else. Me included. I want you, all of you, and I’m not a dick because of it.”
“I didn’t say you were a dick.” She shakes her head, then fidgets with her hair while looking past me.
“No. But you think I’ll become one if I get anywhere near you.”
“Yeah. A little lip-reading. And then boom: sleight-of-hand.”
“Ouch. And here I thought we were making progress. I’m a big, bold guy, so how is it you can make me feel small sometimes?” I grab her ankles when she pulls her knees to her chest.
Her eyes say she’s scared as shit; her body says fuck me seven ways till Sunday. “I’m sorry. I’m not a mean person. Just an honest one. I would not ever try to hurt you. You’ve only been kind to me. But my fear overrides everything.”
“I want to point out that you are several feet away from my naked body and I have not made one move, with the exception of touching your hand, your wrist, and your ankles. Not an easy feat when an alluring woman is within reach. I’d like to wrap your ankles around my neck, but I won’t. Yet.”
She slides out of my grip. Thank god the tub is small and feels intimate regardless.
“Let me read your lips. Tell me anything, I’ll answer you.”
“Good luck. I’ll bet you a horseback ride you’ll have no idea what I’m saying.”
“I’ll bet you that ride and raise you something else on your list. Anything you want.” A deaf sister equals expert lip-reading.
“You’re on.” She taps her toe to mine.
“You’re fun to play with. Naked. Start talking.”
A light sprinkle of rain dots the water, Happy looks to the sky, then reaches over and swoops her glass up. After a long sip—all the while piercing me with a glare I can’t read—she mouths, “I want you so badly, but I’m afraid.” She chases bubbles popping on the water’s surface with her palm.
“Why do I scare you?” I smile in satisfaction and receive a rich blush in her cheeks along with a twist of her mouth.
“You really can read lips.”
“I said I did.”
She nibbles on her pinkie for a few seconds then silently says with barely moving lips, “I can’t afford to break again. Because I don’t know if I could go through that kind of hurt for a second time. You’ll leave me eventually. Nothing is forever.” She taps the deck with her fingertips. Each one meeting a beat of my heart in a race.
“I don’t want to hurt you. Would you give me a chance even if it meant it were just that? A chance? No one can promise forever. No one can promise anything more than their heart and the idea of opening it to someone else. I would do that for you, if you’d do the same for me.”
“Did you read my journal?” Her wide-eyed expression stabs me in the gut, and the rain changes from a sprinkle to an all-out pour like a sign from above.
“No, I read your lips.”
“You’re lying. I left it open under my pillow, and just before I came out here…it was closed. I thought you were just bringing me flowers. Sleight-of-hand is right. Looks like I will be crossing a few things off my list tonight.”
Chapter 29
I am the light I want to bathe in
Happy
Everyone has it all wrong. Love corrupts, not power. Don’t fall. It’s a long way down.
Hunt picks up his glass, his lips touching the rim, the entire scene between us an angst-filled test. Twisting my earlobe into a pretzel, I edge away from him, across the tub, needing room for my mix of chaotic emotions. I’m not convinced I have it in me to strong-arm what I’m going through. I want him; I wish I didn’t, but my god, I do.
His Adam’s apple bumps up and down, the tickle of tension wrestling in the space between us growing by the second.
What I ought to be doing is getting the hell out of his pull. Temptation as thick as tar, though, keeps poking me with her silen
t flirtations. He’s irresistible, not only to my libido, but also to the hollow ache in my heart.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have read it,” he says hoarsely.
“But you did. I wondered, when I saw it was closed, and for a second I thought you read it. But I trusted you instead, and I came out here.” My throat tightens, and I climb out of the tub. Upon peeling my drenched robe off the deck, I yank the wet sleeves up my arms as I decide what to do next.
“Goddammit, Happy. Stay…talk to me.”
I pivot to face him, my teeth chattering, but the sound is drowned by my thudding heart. I want to trust him, but this is making it tough to do.
“You can’t even respect my privacy and what I’m trying to overcome.”
“Is there more? Tell me already. Tell me everything!”
“I’ll tell you something, as of now, you are just another fucking red line in my plan.” I shake a fist at him. “What was it you said before? Another one bites the dust? How’s that fall feel?”
I meant those last words to be rhetorical. Or maybe reflective, since I’m the one falling. Again.
As I stomp away, he says one word. “Deep.”
After closing my screen door and dropping the canvas shade down, I strip out of my soaking-wet robe. The slosh of it hitting the floor is akin to how I feel inside. A musty scent collides with the loamy moisture in the air, enveloping me while I stand naked facing the full-length mirror.
I whisper as tears roll down my cheeks, “You know what you want. He just gave you an excuse. You were waiting for one.”
I stare at my breasts. How long will it be before they’re entirely blotchy? A feverish rash hangs on my cheeks like an embossed wallpaper the longer I stare.
I grind my jaw and lose myself to the event that changed me, closed me, and ultimately made me realize love is for everyone else. Love is for people who know how to deal with something fragile and fraught with potential catastrophe. That girl in the mirror doesn’t know how to handle something so delicate.
I close my eyes to that girl and hear Sebastian as though he’s right behind me, talking into my ear—his low, beautiful voice, velvety and dark. His hands on my shoulders, those handsome, warm eyes piercing mine. I open my eyes, certain I’ll see him looking at me in the mirror.
“I love you,” he said. “Always will. So many things will always be sacred between us.” Then he told me how he’d fallen in love with my sister, how they’d been together throughout our engagement. He shared details that were beyond my comprehension. He hadn’t meant to hurt me, he said, but he was leaving me for her and for the baby she was carrying. His. Even though it was about five years ago, it’s fresh…still. When will that stop?
I told him I wouldn’t let him out of our agreement. Our secret. We could manage this. I’d forgive him. I’d let this one go, this time. I could do that. She could have the baby, fine. We’d find our way. He could finally live near me, in California, while I finished school. I told him that I’d tell her and the police about the things he’d done if he didn’t stay with me. He begged me to let him go then threatened me as I stood my ground. He had another secret, he said. Bigger than ours. One that would hurt more than his betrayal.
Impossible, I thought. More pain than this? What could have been worse than his leaving me for my sister and their baby?
“Fine,” I said. “Try and see what else you can take away. You can’t possibly have a bigger secret than this one. You could go to jail.”
Then he told me. And it happened. The event that broke me. The event that took me—the woman I was—and made a different woman. The woman I’m trying desperately to reinvent and love.
“Fear will no longer be my cage,” I say, letting out a big sigh. “Yeah, right.”
I never did think I’d meet a man who would catch my attention the way Hunt has. That first night at the club, when I heard him talking on the phone, I never should have listened in. Though his voice alone could start a sexual revolution.
I snag my fleece yoga pants and my crewneck off the footboard and slide into their fuzzy warmth. After flopping on the bed I reach under my pillow for my journal and my marker. Do I cross him off? Or leave him in my plan and let him wonder if I did ditch him? I doubt he’ll ever peek in my journal again.
I stare at his name, and the words next to it, while tapping my marker against the lined page. Then I cross Hunt off. And fall in love. Cross off, as in they never should’ve been part of my plan in the first place. Shit, I’m going backward. I jump off my bed and plug in my Christmas lights.
Let go. Dammit, what is wrong with me? I need to take a chance on me and him. Which girl do you want to be? The girl stuck to her plan or the fancy-free girl?
“I am in charge of my happiness,” I mutter. No one else can control the way I feel—not a man or the universe or the pain inside me. Damn it to hell! “Fly, Happy,” I whisper, then grab my journal and a marker. I doodle an open cage and a pink bird with a crown on her head flying out the door. And then I write fall in love with Hunt, let him be the one. Trust him.
I pick me.
The thwack of his screen door startles me. We’re both silent, then Hunt’s bed squeaks.
“Hey,” he says.
A lump rises in my throat upon hearing the deep vibration of his voice combined with seeing the outline of his hand pushing its way onto the canvas, trying to reach me.
“Hey,” I answer. I want to place my hand on his, but I don’t, though I do try to imagine what it might feel like if he entwined his fingers with mine while lying with me. I’m sure his grip is fierce and tender and the sort of thing one would feel everywhere.
“I really am sorry. I’m sure you can’t trust me for shit now. I don’t blame you. If you want me to try to find another tent so you don’t have to see me for the rest of your trip, I can do that. I don’t want to hurt you or make you feel more uncomfortable around me than you already do.”
I flip to my side, my eyes pinned on his hand. His forefinger strokes the canvas.
“That’s nice of you to offer, but this is your tent. I’m not exactly sure how Cece landed me in it anyway, it was either lots of string pulling or kismet. Do you believe in stuff like that? Kismet?”
“Tough not to.” He chuckles. “We keep getting thrown together by some kind of force. Even if it is your friend, and my sister.”
“I placed a picnic outside your door, it’s in a cooler, so don’t worry about it getting wet if the rain picks up again, though the storm seems to have moved on. I was going to take you for a ride tonight along with it, but I would imagine that’s the last thing you want to do.”
“Um, thanks. Are you still going for a ride?”
“Yeah, I am. Dawn and sunset are my favorite times to ride. The shifting color of the mountains, changing so fast you want to believe angel wings are doing all the work. Something about it feels renewing. Like summer camp swims, you know? The birds feel it too, with the way they sing. The crickets and toads creating a backdrop that’s damn near a lullaby.” He clears his throat. “Anyway. Your dinner is outside your door like I said, anytime you want it. Clara from the kitchen made it for us. You.”
Hunt drops his hand from the canvas wall, and I place mine where his was.
“Sounds like a movie,” I say, wishing he’d return his hand.
“Yeah? Well, that’s about right. Feels like one too. It’s pretty epic.”
My body becomes rigid with tension as the thumps of his feet sound on the floor.
I clear my throat as I hear him shuffle papers around. “Any chance you might need a co-star, cowboy?”
Chapter 30
Clue~ my bad *sorry
HUNT
I grin, crumple, then slam dunk the note I was going to write for Happy into the garbage can. Minutes ago, I would have sworn I’d lost her for good. I have no doubt she crossed me off her list, but that doesn’t mean I can’t find a way to get back on it.
“Under one condition.”
�
��What would that be?” she says, giving a low laugh, relief in her tone.
“Let me come over there and tell you in person.”
Seconds after I knock on her door, she flips up her canvas shade.
“What’s the condition?” she asks.
“Can you come out here? I want to give you something.”
“It’s not a trick, is it? A sleight-of-hand?” she says, arching an eyebrow.
“No, I promise.”
The door creaks as it opens, and she makes her way out. With her hands crossed over her chest, she stares at me, a tiny smile forming a thread between us.
“Can I hold you?”
“That depends…can I trust you?”
“Yes, c’mere.” I open my arms, my heart beating rapidly.
She bites her bottom lip then takes one step toward me. Then a second. Her arms slip around my waist in a fierce hug as I wrap mine around her. We inhale in unison. Her face pressed to my chest, mine to her ear. I slide one hand up her back and feel her shudder. I stop at the base of her neck, pulling her tighter to me.
“You can trust me. And I’m sorry,” I say at her ear. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just want to get to know you. Maybe too much. I really like you. Like being with you.” I swallow. “There’s something about you, something so lovely I want to solve and be a part of. Something you may not see in yourself. Sometimes I rush into things, go with my gut too much. But this feels like more than my gut. It feels like my heart. I know you’re afraid of relationships and abandonment. I know how real those things are. The timeline you feel you’re working against with vitiligo. That’s a lot of pressure. Maybe I can help, if you let me in.”
“Do you mean into my pants?” She looks up at me, then bursts out laughing.
We’re so close. So close that, with one small move, my lips would be on hers. A first kiss. What I wouldn’t give.
“I’d love that,” I answer, “but please tell me you know you’re more than that to me.”
Her eyes, blue and blazing, search mine as color deepens in her cheeks. I press my lips to her forehead then pull away. I can’t scare her amid my desire to touch her. Hold her. Talk to her. Trust.
Of Winged Creatures & Nesting Grounds: (A Quirky, Sexy, Dirty Doctor Romance) Page 13