by A. S. Teague
Just as quickly as she dropped, she leaps to her feet, holding a tooth high above her head, shouting, “I found one! Look, Bronn!”
She waves the tooth in my face and I can’t help myself, I let out a bark of laughter at her exuberance.
Living on the coast my whole life, I’d found hundreds of teeth, but I don’t think I’d ever been as excited to find one as Grace is. She continues to dance around, waving the tooth like it’s a championship trophy.
I’m swept up in her excitement.
In her elation.
In her.
“Bronn, do you think there are more?” she asks breathless, her face hopeful.
I’m sure of it.
I make a show of looking around, pushing the sand around with my toe and tell her, “I mean, yeah. Probably. Want to look for a few minutes?”
She nods vigorously and I tell her, “Okay, so this is how you find them—“
“Hey!” she interrupts, her hands on her hips. “I just found one, thankyouverymuch! You think I need pointers from you? First the hot sauce, and now you’re a tooth-hunting expert.”
Her eyebrow is arched, her face ridiculously adorable, and I smirk. “Can’t help that I’m good at everything.”
She harrumphs, a devilish smile turning the corners of her mouth up. “How about we make this a competition?”
“Oh, you’re gonna regret that.” I wave my hands at her. “Bring it.”
She glances at the watch on her wrist. “Person that finds the most in the next ten minutes has to buy the loser coffee.”
I blink at her slowly. “Is that it?”
“Uhh…coffee and dinner?”
Stroking my chin, I look her over. “You’re on. But I gotta warn you, I’m pretty good at this.”
She rolls her eyes before turning away from me. “We’ll see about that,” she mutters.
Dropping to all fours, she begins crawling around, slinging sand in every direction, and generally going about it all wrong. But I press my lips together and begin looking for teeth myself.
I come across a couple, but pretend not to see them, and a few minutes later she lets out a whoop when she finds them herself.
“Found two!” she shouts.
Thankful that my back is to her so she can’t see my smile, I say over my shoulder, “Don’t go getting too cocky now.”
I scoop a couple more off the ground and then turn to where she’s searching. Her brows are pulled in tight, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth.
Every so often, she pauses to pick something up, her face falling slightly when she realizes it’s just a piece of broken shell or rock.
I’m forced to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing as she angrily tosses them aside and continues her search.
I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun doing absolutely nothing, and as I continue to watch her my mind swirls.
I don’t know what the hell we’re doing here, what this thing between us is, but I fucking like it.
I like the way I feel. The way she makes me feel. The way she keeps me on my toes, giving me shit, but also opening up to me as though she’s known me for ages.
I like that she can confide in me, that she wants to tell me the things that she’s obviously not talked about in a long time.
But more than that, I like her.
It may be cliché, but she’s different than other women. Unlike anyone I’ve ever met before, she’s not afraid to be herself. And she makes me unafraid to be myself as well.
She stirs things in me that haven’t moved since my dad died.
Grace’s watch sounds, indicating the time is up, and she jumps to her feet and races over to where I’m sitting on a large rock.
Her hands are balled in tight fists and she’s grinning. “How many did you find?”
I shake my head. “Uh-uh. You first.”
Beaming, she sticks her arms toward me and opens her hands, revealing two handfuls of teeth, all various sizes. “More than you I bet!”
Putting my poker face on, I command, “Count them.”
I know she’s found way more than me. I stopped looking almost as soon as I started. I’ve only got five in my hand, but I want to make her sweat.
She eyes me carefully and then settles on to the rock beside me, her thigh brushing mine. I grit my teeth to keep the contact from working me up.
I tell myself that it’s only because it’s been a while since I’ve had any action that I’m so easily excited, but the truth of the matter is that it’s just fucking Grace that turns me on. Even if it is just her smooth, toned leg pressed against mine.
She silently counts her haul and I twist my body away from hers as I pretend to count mine as well. When I feel her hand on my shoulder, I turn my back to see her peering over my shoulder.
“Hey! No peeking!” I scold.
She giggles and then sighs. “Just tell me how many you found!”
Relenting, I angle my body back to where she’s seated and tell her proudly, “Five!”
Her eyes bug out of her head. “That’s it? Five? You suck! I’m glad I didn’t listen to your pointers.”
Laughing, she tells me, “I found thirteen!”
Feigning disappointment, I grumble, “Guess that makes you the winner. Coffee’s on me.”
She leaps to her feet and grins. “Wanna race back to the coffee shop? Double or nothing? Coffee and breakfast?”
I stretch my legs out in front of me and they protest the movement. “Hell, no.” I groan. “I was hoping you’d run back to your house and come pick me up in your car,” I confess.
“Awww, poor Bronnson,” she says in a sing-songy voice. “Can’t keep up with a girl?”
I shake my head. “Oh, I can keep up. Want me to prove it?” I wag my eyebrows, and her cheeks turn pink.
Not able to resist any longer, I grab her by the wrist and pull her in to my lap. I wrap an arm around her waist, using my free hand to bring her face to mine.
Her lips part, her tongue darting out to wet them, and as her eyes flutter shut, her breath whispers across my skin. I’ve been aching to feel her soft lips on mine since I laid eyes on her this morning.
Without another word, I bring my mouth to hers and run my tongue along her lips.
She sighs and wraps her arms around my shoulders, kissing me back in the early morning sun. The sound of the water lapping along the shoreline fades away, the only sound I hear is Grace’s sigh.
The longer I hold her, her tongue gliding along with mine, the further I begin to fall.
Falling into what, I’m not sure.
But I’m no longer interested in trying to catch myself.
Whatever happens when I land, I’ll take it.
Paper cup of the best coffee I’ve ever had in one hand, Bronn and I walk side-by-side back to my house, my other hand nestled in his. The simple act is something I’d taken for granted until Bronn had begun to hold mine on our first date. Now, I couldn’t get enough of his fingers laced through mine. Or the feeling that washed through my body every time he was the one to reach for me.
It’s only a little after nine a.m., but the humidity and heat is already bordering on unbearable, the sun having fully risen during our impromptu fossil-finding expedition.
Our pace is about that of a turtle stuck in mud, but I keep my comments to myself, the pain of our run written all over his face.
It was obvious that he wasn’t a runner, despite his insistence otherwise, but I’d enjoyed his company so I didn’t say anything. The way he is limping down the street though is causing me to feel bad about not calling him out on it before we started. Or taking it a little easier during the actual run.
Bronn slows even further, coming to a stop beside his truck and pulling the driver’s side door open. He hands me his coffee and gingerly climbs into the cab, groaning with effort.
I press my lips together to keep from laughing, and he catches me, his eyes narrowing.
“Ha, ha. I know,
I know. It’s my own damn fault,” he laments, wincing again as he settles into the seat. “Listen, I gotta get home and take a bottle of aspirin.”
“You need to take an Epsom salt bath,” I offer. “And maybe try ibuprofen instead of aspirin.”
He shakes his head. “No tub. And what I need is a damn bottle of muscle relaxers. And a time machine.”
I arch an eyebrow and hand him his cup, propping my hip against the open door. “Are you really that much of a wimp? That route was like two miles, that’s nothing.”
His eyes practically bug out of his head, and I laugh as he moans. “You were running at full speed.”
I rake my hand over my face, attempting to conceal the smile, but I’m not fast enough.
“You knew I wasn’t a runner.” His voice is laced with disbelief. “You did that on purpose!”
I lift a shoulder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He shakes his head, putting his coffee in the cup holder. I watch his slow movement, wondering if our workout somehow hurt his arms, too, when a bag catches my eye.
I lean across him, aware of the fact that my breasts are brushing against his lap, and grab the plastic baggie.
“Hey, hey!” he shouts, his own hand trying to reach the bag before I do.
“Are these…” I trail off, studying the bag of sharks’ teeth in my hand. My stomach falls, humiliation washing over me. I take several deep breaths before lifting my eyes to his.
His face is guilty, a sheepish smile on his lips.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Did you plant those sharks’ teeth at the beach?” My voice is shaky.
He crosses his arms over his chest, using my words against me. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do!” I say, my voice nearly a squeal. I wave the bag in his face. “You put those teeth there!”
My stomach feels hollow. I’m angry. And humiliated. I’d been convinced that I was finding all of these teeth, but instead I’d just been making a fool of myself.
He relents, uncrossing his arms and taking the bag from my hand and tossing it on the seat beside him. Sliding his hand in mine he sighs. “Fine. Yes, I did.”
Taking a deep breath, I ask through clenched teeth, “Why?”
His eyes cut away and he stares out the cracked windshield of his truck. “I dunno.” Blowing out a breath, he explains, “I guess I just wanted you to finally find a shark’s tooth. And it wasn’t going to be the same with me as it would have been with your dad, but at least you could say you did it.” He looks back at me, the honesty on his face taking my breath away. “And I wanted to be with you when you did.”
His eyes are intense, his voice low, when he asks, “You mad?”
Yes!
Or at least I was.
I feel like an idiot, getting so excited over finding planted sharks’ teeth. I’m sure I looked ridiculous crawling around in the sand, looking for something that he knew was there.
But, how the hell could I be mad at him for doing something that he knew would make me happy? He’d remembered the random memory I’d shared with him, seen what it meant to me, understood the importance of it, and tried his damndest to fulfill it.
My chest swells, my throat thick with emotion, and when I open my mouth to speak no sound comes out. So, I shake my head.
Bronn breathes an audible sigh of relief and whispers, “Good.”
I bring his hand to mine, kissing his fingers one by one, my eyes never leaving his. When I finish, I lean forward and brush my lips against his.
He curls a hand into my hair, holding my head still as his mouth devours mine, the taste of coffee on his lips. The kiss is slow, his tongue in no hurry, knowing that I’m not going anywhere. I press my body into his, wanting to be as close to him as possible as his mouth continues to explore mine.
I want this to last forever, the feeling of his soft mouth contrasting with his hard body pressed against mine, but all too soon he pulls away.
Panting, I rest my forehead against his and softly tell him, “Sorry I pushed you so hard earlier.”
He chuckles. “It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have pretended to know what the fuck I was doing.”
“True,” I agree.
I don’t tell him that I’m only pretending to know what the hell I’m doing, too.
With our schedules conflicting, I’d only seen Bronn a handful of times since our run two weeks ago, and both times had been nothing more than quick coffee dates at Dani’s shop before we had to go our separate ways. He hadn’t tried to run with me again, opting to just wait for me, coffee in hand, after I finished.
I’d been busy trying to adjust to working nights, something my body seemed to have strong opinions against, and Bronn had been busy with his bar, and even though we both wanted to see each other, there seemed to always be something that came up last minute.
He’d have an issue with staffing at his bar; I’d need to pick up an extra shift at the hospital.
Despite not being able to see each other much, we’d talked and texted daily. He’d also followed through on his promise to answer my calls when I left work, even though he had worked in his bar until the wee hours of the morning.
It is Saturday morning, and I’ve just finished my last shift for the week and am heading home to sleep for a couple hours.
My phone to my ear, I climb into my car, waiting for Bronn to pick up. After three rings, his sleepy voice comes across the line and a twinge of guilt hits me.
“Hey, Bronn,” I say softly. “You know, I don’t have to call you this early every morning.”
He sighs, and in the background I can hear sheets rustling. “Yes, you do. I like hearing your voice.”
His own voice is gravelly, the deep timbre sliding over my skin like honey. My mind starts to wander to what he might be wearing lying in bed when his voice brings me back to reality.
“What are you doing today?”
I groan. “I’m going home to sleep for a few hours before I head back to Columbia and visit Nana.”
I hadn’t shared with him everything that was going on with my grandmother, not wanting to think about it myself. This last few weeks had been an escape from reality, almost like a vacation, and I hadn’t wanted to think about real life. But I’d missed the last Saturday visit with her, so I was overdue and couldn’t put it off any longer. Besides, this was my reality now, so I needed to face it.
“Oh, yeah?”
I hesitate only briefly before sharing, “Yeah, she’s…dying.”
There’s no way to sugar coat it. I don’t even bother trying. She may be my last living relative, the only blood I have on this earth, but she was not an easy person to live with, and impossible to love.
“I’m sorry,” he says, the sincerity in his voice warming me.
“It’s okay.” Realizing how callous that sounds, I continue, “Well, I mean, it’s not, but, you know, it will be.”
The line is quiet and the silence spurs me on, so I ramble. “She has dementia. And her health is declining rapidly. I visit every Saturday. But I missed the last couple of weeks.”
“I see,” he mumbles, the rustling of the sheets again causing a pang of jealousy to course through my veins. I want to be in bed, too, especially if it meant I could be nestled next to Bronn.
Worried that I sound heartless, I rush out, “I sound selfish, don’t I?”
He chuckles. “Not at all.”
“It’s just, well, I told you about how strict she was. But I didn’t tell you about how cold she was. After my mom died, she took over raising me. It was, well, let’s just say that I was more of a burden than a joy to her.”
“Grace,” he interrupts my rambling, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
“I know, I just don’t want you to think—“
He cuts me off again. “I’m not thinking anything, trust me.”
“Okay,” I whisper in relief.
I’d been devastated when Nana
had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, but not for the reasons that most people were. I was sad that my last living relative was going to be gone soon and I would be all alone in the world. Even though she was a hard woman and never been one to show me affection, she was still family.
But the weekly visits to see her had become increasingly difficult, with Nana becoming nastier over time. The doctors tried to assure me that it was the disease and not the person, but they were wrong. She’d meant the nasty accusations she spit at me whenever I went to see her.
“Anyway, I’m almost home,” I tell him, pulling up to the curb. “I’m going to go inside and sleep for a while. I’ll text you when I get on the road?”
“Sounds good,” he rumbles. “Will you be back tonight?”
“Well, I hadn’t planned on it.” The drive isn’t a bad one, especially in the spring when the weather is nice and I could do it with my windows down, but I always left from my visits feeling drained. The last visit was the one that I made before driving to Beaufort for the first time, the day I’d met Bronn, and it had been particularly brutal, with Nana all but telling me that I was the reason my mama had died so young. I don’t think it would be smart to try and drive back late at night after having very little sleep.
“If you change your mind, come by the bar. I should be able to get out of there at a decent time for once.” He drops his voice to almost a whisper. “And, I’d like to see you.”
His words cause my stomach to melt. Even though I know I’ll be exhausted, mentally and physically, I tell him, “I’d like to see you, too. I’ll come home. It’ll be late though.”
“Don’t drive back if you’re tired, Grace.”
After his declaration, I could be dead and would still find a way to get to that damn bar tonight.
“I’ll be okay,” I tell him. “Let you know when I’m on the way,” I assure him before disconnecting the call and dropping my phone into my bag.
I’m climbing the steps, digging through my purse for the keys when my phone rings again. Pulling it out, I see Riley’s number on the screen and my heart lurches. It’s too early on a Saturday for him to be calling, so I put the phone to my ear, bracing myself for what he’s about to say.