Twist Into Me

by Devon Ashley

  “God, Owen. This is crazy beautiful. What kind of wood is this on top?”

  “Mango.”

  Mango. Didn’t even know that was an option. My fingers ran along the floral pattern, impressed he could do this kind of craftsmanship. I didn’t even want to know what kind of price this table would fetch because I’d never be able to afford it.

  “I can’t believe you know how to do this. I saw some of the things you whittled growing up, and believe me I was impressed, but I can’t believe you went from doing tiny pieces to this. Did you do all this by hand?”

  “Sort of. The areas around the flowers I was able to use an electric knife to cut down. Saves a lot of time. I only shape the actual design.”

  “Which has to take a million days.”

  “Not anymore. I can shape pretty quickly these days if I use the right kind of wood.”

  I nodded my head and began strolling through his barn. “Do you have finished pieces lying around, or do you just make what’s asked of you?”

  “Mostly what’s asked. Sometimes I make something if I don’t have anything going on. Why?”

  “I was cleaning the store today, thinking about how maybe we should freshen up the place with new pieces. It made me think of you, and that maybe you’d like to display some of your furniture there. You could use the shop to sell your work and we could continuously refresh our look as they get replaced.”

  He grabbed two beers from his minifridge and headed my way to share. “Did you run this idea past Louise?”

  “Like she wouldn’t agree to it,” I said, taking the beer he opened for me. Our bodies were so close flutters took flight in my stomach, bouncing off the walls like an endless game of Pong. Why was I so nervous around him now?

  His endless gaze was piercing. I put my body into motion again exploring his barn. Once I put a few feet between us, I added, “And besides, I’m co-owner now, and she wants me to make these kind of decisions moving forward.”

  “You’re co-owner?” he repeated dully, unsure of whether or not to believe me.

  My hand bounced from tool to tool as I passed one of his work tables. “Yeah. We had discussed it before, but since she had that scare, it was the first thing she focused on when she got home.” I couldn’t help but notice that as I circled my way around his workshop, Owen parked himself right in the center of it, that way I was always within equal distance of him. Guess it was obvious I was avoiding.

  He took a long swig of beer. “So this is why you stopped by tonight? To talk about furniture?”

  “Well, no,” I stammered, coming to a stop full circle at the table again. Realizing what happened, I hesitantly admitted, “I went for a drive and just kind of ended up here.”

  “That,” he blurted with a strong voice, using his finger to point at me when he said it. “Right there. I want to talk about that.”

  I bit down on my bottom lip, my heart jumping madly for a few paces. “Owen…” I said by way of argument.

  “No,” he replied firmly, leaving his beer behind as he made his way over. I hadn’t even tasted mine yet, my hand cold and wet from gripping the long neck. I set it aside on the work table nearest me, not wanting to risk a water stain on his newest piece. By the time I used my jean shorts to wipe dry my hand, he was already before me, and he was not backing down. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

  There was easily three feet still between us, but I suddenly felt hot and suffocated anyway. I swallowed hard as my heart revved up, my insides twisting in ways I didn’t like.

  “Tessa.”

  I silently groaned. No way I was getting out of this conversation. The tension built up inside me. All aghast, I blurted, “Doesn’t this feel weird at all for you?”

  “It did at first,” he calmly admitted. “Not so much anymore. My brother would want me to be happy. He’d want you to be happy.”

  “But happy with each other?” I questioned quietly. I still found that hard to believe.

  The palms of my hands flattened against my face, covering it in its entirety. My fingertips rubbed my eyes, then my temples, before finally spreading out to settle along my hairline, my palms still squished against my cheeks. “I don’t know, Owen, I just don’t know. Part of me says yes, part of me says hold up.” My hands weakly fell away.

  He crossed his muscular arms and leaned against a work table. “That’s fine, I’ve got all night. Just tell me when the part saying yes is in control for the evening. I’ll make my move.”

  “What if I’m not even sure what I want?”

  He was so cool-minded when he challenged, “Then let’s find out, shall we?”

  I stood there dumbly. “What? How?” I inhaled a sharp breath. That was a really bad question because it only made him eliminate the space between. I took a step back, but I had nowhere to go. My eyes got caught up in his as they grew closer.

  And I thought my nerves had a hold on me before... I had no idea every pop, hiss, pull and sizzle could increase its game exponentially. I almost felt sick to my stomach when his hand reached up to caress my cheek.

  My eyelids shut out the imagery. His fingertips tickled my cheek. His thumb rolled along my bottom lip.

  “In order for this to work, you’re going to have to kiss me back this time.” My eyes bravely opened again. His face was so close we could’ve grazed noses. “Are you going to be able to do that?”

  Possibly. Probably. Maybe… My heart was so freaking spastic I couldn’t focus on anything else, the pounding beats echoing in my ears. I took a deep breath. “Feel my heart.” My crazy, crazy heart.

  His head tipped slightly. His eyes moved downward, the hand on my cheek slowly sliding down my face, my neck, and down my chest to settle over my heart. I could feel the unbridled beats throwing themselves madly at him, like my heart ached to connect in a physical way, and no prison of ribs or layer of skin was going to stop it. “Hmm… Think you could calm it down a bit? I want to kiss you, not resuscitate you.”

  My mouth parted as I felt my eyes narrow. His thinned to match mine in a mocking way, daring me to respond, successfully thwarting my mood. I was no longer nervous. Now I just wanted to smack him.

  “There you are,” he teased. “That’s the Tessa I’m looking for.”

  He made his move. Like last time, our kiss was slow and deep. But this time something was different. Yes, I was just as hesitant, just as afraid to push the boundaries of what we had, but something stirred inside me. All those crazy and erratic feelings seemed to join forces. Individually, they unnerved me, strung me out in so many directions I didn’t know which way to go. But then they came together for a common goal. They pulsed like the beat of my heart, growing dense and warm inside my core. Suddenly I could imagine taking the risk, letting the sensations guide me through the scariest of unknowns.

  My mouth came alive and pressed back. My hands crept upward, slowly sliding up his chest and around his neck. My right stayed low, my left moved higher to comb fingers through his hair. His hands slid around my ribs and pressed us tightly together. I gasped just long enough to pause my kiss, then pulled his face down closer. The intensity of our kiss grew, as did the way my insides yearned for more. Owen was feeling it too, both of our bodies trying to get a little bit closer, our hands getting a little more greedy.

  His hands slipped south to cup my cheeks, lifting me up to the edge of the table top. It gave me just enough height to equal us out, and my legs spread wide to let him closer. Suddenly, we were over the hump of that first kiss, like it was the catalyst that kicked our desires into full gear. His hand gripped the back of my neck possessively as he leaned me slightly back, his body continuing to press into mine. My legs slipped around his hips, trying to keep me balanced. After several heavy, deep kisses we came up for air. My heart was pounding, my head felt like it was swimming.

  He gently sucked my earlobe. “Still weird?” he whispered. It was more of a tease, because obviously, judging by the state my body was in, I wasn’t agains
t what we were doing.

  I licked my lips and swallowed. “No.” Pressing my forehead against his, I voiced a very real fear that still lingered within my head. “But I’m still afraid. I don’t want to lose what we have.” Because I can’t lose this. Not you.

  He gingerly swept his fingers across my cheek, brushed my hair behind my ear. “We’re not going to lose anything. We’re going to make this better.”

  “Promise?” I barely whispered.

  He nodded, then his lips moved to convince me in their own way. The moment my hands swept around his shoulders, my body took flight, his hands sweeping underneath to carry me through the barn. He kicked open the door to the hidden room and dropped me onto a bed I didn’t even know was out here. The light from the workroom seeped inside the partially opened door, and was all we needed to move by. Despite the eagerness we felt before, we took it slower, minutes passing between each piece of clothing lost to the floor. Every caress was memorable, every kiss sensual, and I was long lost to heaven once we finally fell asleep.

  My eyes were slow to adapt to the morning light. I knew exactly where I was, but I had never seen the room before. A single window original to the barn was the only source of natural light. It was curtainless, and the morning sky was already filled with a collection of white clouds. The room was a long rectangle, with two doors off to the left. I assumed they belonged to the bathroom and closet, but I couldn’t be sure. They were both shut. A dresser I recognized from Owen’s room growing up sat opposite of us, a flat screen sitting on top of it. It sat directly in front of the original barn back doors, which were sealed, but still looked like they could be opened if I tried. The bed we were in was a queen, the only linen covering us up a single sheet. The room was a little warm, even with the fan in the corner directly blowing wind our way.

  So Owen actually did live in the barn these days.

  I sighed contentedly and closed my eyes. From behind, Owen’s exhalation matched mine, and he began to stir. It felt like we were sharing the same pillow, his body flush and pressed up behind mine. His breaths tickled the back of my neck. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “For what?” he mumbled, still half asleep. He followed it up with a yawn.

  “I’m a mean sleeper. I don’t mean to be. I probably should’ve warned you. I don’t like to be touched when I sleep.”

  “Didn’t seem to bother you last night. You were fine.”

  “I kick and hit.”

  His arm slightly shifted above me, his hand moving to lay on my hip. “You didn’t. In fact, I don’t think we changed positions all night.”

  I didn’t? That was so unusual. Usually I was pretty restless. Every morning my bed looked so disheveled, like I went a few rounds with it. Most nights, I think we both lost the fight.

  He squeezed me tightly. “Mmm… You smell like flowers. Did you know that? Even your hair.”

  My smile slowly came alive. “You sound drunk.”

  “If I am it’s because I’m high on the hair I’ve been breathing in all night.”

  I twisted within his grasp and settled down facing him. His eyes hadn’t bothered to open until now, and they were as lazy as the smile he was trying to give me. I brushed the side of his head with my fingertips. “Not a morning person either?”

  “Not a sleeper. But heck if I didn’t sleep last night.” His eyes moved to the ceiling. Mine followed, and I realized somewhere in the room he had a clock that projected the time onto the ceiling. Seven-thirty eight.

  “Shit!” I cried, sitting up in bed. I jumped out of his grasp and picked up all my clothes. “I’m late.”

  He groggily sat up. “For what?”

  “What do you mean for what? For work. Shop opens at nine.” I pulled my underwear on.

  “You mean that little shop where the hours posted say it’s open when you get around to opening it?”

  I pulled my shirt on, not even bothering with my bra. It wasn’t like this was what I’d be wearing to work anyway. Owen snagged my wrist and held on, locking his gaze with mine. “You can spare a few minutes.” He smiled wickedly and reined me in. I couldn’t help but grin, help but allow him to pull me to his lap, and help but straddle and share a few kisses with him.

  The softest of love bites traveled up my jawbone, making me moan sweetly. “As much as I want to continue this conversation with you…” He bit harder into that sensitive part between my jaw and neck, successfully blocking my train of thought for a moment. “…can we do it later?” He groaned his disapproval, but still kept kissing his way across my skin. “If I don’t get home soon, Nana will think she needs to open up.”

  He groaned again, but this one was different. It screamed surrender. He stopped trying to turn me on and abandoned my neck. “Alright,” he said, laying one last kiss to my lips before releasing his hold. I climbed off and continued getting dressed. Owen reached for his clothing to do the same.

  “What are you going to do today?” I asked, buttoning up my shorts.

  “Oh, I’m going with you.”

  I paused trying to slide my bare foot into my sneaker. “Really?” I replied suspiciously.

  His jeans already pulled over his feet, he stood to get them on the rest of the way. “No way I’m missing you tell Louise why you didn’t come home last night.” He winked before pulling his shirt on over his head and headed out. I was pretty sure Nana already knew this was coming, but he was right. It would be fun to tell her.

  We drove over in separate cars, so Owen parked out on Main Street and waited for me to disengage the alarm and unlock the door for him. He had given up the spare set of keys to Nana once she came home.

  It was a little after eight when we stepped into the kitchen. I hung my keys on the kitty cat wall art that turned their tails into hooks. Owen immediately spotted the difference in my set, his hand reaching out to hold the fish he’d once taken the time to whittle for me. “Where in the heck did you find this?”

  “Turns out I accidentally left it here. Nana kept it in the drawer for me.”

  “Man, this is rough. I seriously need to take this back and make you a new one.”

  “Don’t you dare!” I exclaimed. “You made me that when we were just kids. No way you’re taking that from me. I love it.”

  He put his hands up once I smacked the one away from my keys. “Fine. But if anyone asks, I did not make that.”

  I softly giggled. “Come on. It’s not that bad. Pretty damn good for a kid just learning his craft.”

  “If you say so.” He stood there crossing his arms. “So are you going to go wake her?”

  I waved him off and went to gather ingredients out of the refrigerator. “Nah. If she’s awake she’ll be down soon. If she’s asleep then I’d rather let her rest a bit longer.”

  “Okay. Breakfast it is,” he said, kissing me on the cheek before disappearing around the island in search of the right skillet.

  Twenty minutes later I had been poked, tickled and teased endlessly, but we still had a gorgeous spread of pecan waffles, pan-fried bacon and a hearty fruit salad ready to go. I snatched a sample of his bacon on the way out of the kitchen and got snapped with a towel to the butt for my theft. I giggled all the way up the stairs, savoring the salty meat as I went.

  Nana’s door was still closed. I gently knocked before entering, whispering, “Nana?” as I stepped in. Her room was still pretty dark for the morning hours, but more than enough light provided my route to her windows. I yanked her curtains open, filling the room with cool light, calling her name out a little louder. She’d been sleeping in a little since she returned home from the hospital, so it didn’t really surprise me that she was still out cold. She’d been so exhausted lately.

  I sat down on the edge of her bed and smiled as she peacefully slept. She wore her hair loose, and a few of the long waves were covering the side of her tipped face. As I brushed them away with my fingertips, my smile slowly faded.

  Her skin was too cold.

  “Nana?” I gaspe
d, choking on air. “Oh, no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no…” I don’t know how many times I repeated that word, but I was caught in an infinite circle, my mind incapable of anything else.

  I felt her arm… Too cold.

  Her neck… Too cold.

  I placed my hand over her heart. At first I whimpered, but as the seconds passed by and I still didn’t feel her heart beat against my hand, I began heaving uncontrollably. Tears flooded my cheeks, falling fast to the white sheets below. “Nana?” I choked out. “No-no-no-no-NO!” I gripped her arms roughly and shook, but her body was heavy, determined not to move.

  No-no-no-no-no. I buried my head on the linens that covered her. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I just got her back. We survived the scare…we survived it! She was supposed to stay with me forever. Or at least until she was a hundred and three! She was supposed to stay! Why did everyone keep leaving me?

  She was never going to open her beautiful sapphire-shaded eyes again and flash me one of her trademark looks. She would never again be able to tease me, or hug me. Her lips would never again smile, her mouth never again open to let out that infectious laugh of hers. Her arms would never again embrace me the way she did when she found me just nine months ago. Nine months wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough.

  I fisted my hands more tightly on the blanket. Fisting in and out… In and out…

  I never heard his steps hurry their way up the stairs and into the room. I could barely hear him call out my name – I was bawling too hysterically at that point. One of his hands found my back as the other reached out to inspect Nana’s neck. Owen pulled his phone out of his back pocket and dialed, but I already knew it was way too late. We were way too late.

  The autumn air was cool on my scalp as the breeze came out of nowhere, tossing my hair wildly for a moment. In my haste to get all the flowers into the car, I had forgotten to grab my knit cap, so my head was already at the mercy of the cold front moving in. Owen and I had already laid flowers on the graves of his mom and dad, and now we were standing before Nana’s – Louise Eleanor Wilkerson. I placed a bound handful of pale pink peonies on the ground, her favorite.