by Isabel Jolie
“But you couldn’t call? Or text me back?” I didn’t want to sound like a whining kid, but sitting there, I needed to understand.
“What would be the point? An awkward hello that reminds us not only of the distance but that we’re in two different places in our lives? I’m a parent now. And you…you’re…a kid.”
“A kid? I’m a kid? You’re unbelievable, you know that?” I stood and brushed sand off the back of my pants. “It’s not like you thought I was a kid when you had your dick crammed down my throat.”
“Luna, that’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“Do I? I don’t think I do. Why don’t you spell it out for me? After all, I’m a kid, so better speak slowly and with extreme care.”
“You’ve got your entire life in front of you. That’s what I mean.”
“Oh, then by all means…go away for months, don’t get in touch.” I glared down at his bowed head. “I mean…I don’t know what I mean because I don’t know what you mean.”
He pulled his hair back and looked past me at the ocean, then stood and finally faced me.
“You know what I think?” I shook my index finger at him as anger surged. “I think you’re too chickenshit to put yourself out there. I think you hate missing people, so you wall yourself off. I think you don’t know how to express your emotions, so you don’t even try.”
“Maybe you’re right. Missing people, it hurts, and I hate it. But you’re wrong. I’m not afraid to try. I just…why would you even, at your age, want to date a guy like me? With a thirteen-year-old adopted daughter? Stop and think about it.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to date a guy like you? Look at what you’ve done with your life. You’ve devoted years to stopping illegal fishing practices in areas of the world where almost no one else gives a damn. You’ve helped women who couldn’t get access to the medical care they needed. You adopted a stranger because you knew she was in a dangerous place. And now, Poppy spoke to Gabe. She told me what you’re doing now as a lobbyist.”
“Those are all reasons to want to work with me, not date me. I’m more than willing to write you a stellar recommendation for your next job, or graduate school.”
I clenched my fists in my coat pockets and looked out over the ocean and up into the constellations.
“Okay. You want to know why I want to date you? My dad always told me I should find a guy who gave me butterflies and who shares my passions. You do that for me. Not that it matters. But, with you, I feel more.” I could have gone on and said more, but my cheeks burned. Embarrassment choked my words. He’d made it clear he didn’t feel the same.
“Did you feel more on your date the other night?”
“What date?”
“I saw you walking into the Shoals Club for dinner.” He buried his toes in the sand.
“It wasn’t a date.”
“He seemed interested,” he said, skeptical.
I huffed. “No. Not a date. Work.”
He puckered his lips thoughtfully then took a couple of steps forward. I followed along, and he pointed into the night. “See those bright stars? The ones that are a little brighter than the others? It looks like a W? Or an M?”
A million tiny pricks of light hovered far above. I didn’t see a letter, and I didn’t feel like hunting for constellations. “Yes, I see it,” I lied.
“It’s Cassiopeia. Have you heard that story?”
“It’s the one where she’s super vain and gets thrown up to the stars as punishment by Zeus’s wife. And Cepheus loves her so, and begs Zeus to be thrown up with her, and he does.” I’d spent enough time under the night sky to have heard a good number of stories about the stars.
“Those stars there…that’s Cepheus.” He pointed into the sky, but I gazed at the ship, anchored across the way, its light brighter than any of the stars above. Tate continued. “His wife, Cassiopeia, wasn’t perfect, but he loved her so much. And now they spend an eternity together, in love.”
For me, the beauty of the night sky lay in the collective whole, not in attempting to piece together bright spots and historic designs. I did not understand how my conversation with Tate turned into a constellation discussion but had no desire to continue talking about the stars.
“Thanks for dinner.”
He reached out, and I stepped back, out of his grasp. I couldn’t bear his touch, not when he didn’t want me. “See you later.”
“I’ll walk you home.” He gave the offshore floating light one more thoughtful glance before guiding me up the trail to my place.
Chapter 29
Tate
* * *
When we arrived at her cottage, she turned to face me on her front doorstep. This was where a friend would say goodnight. She fidgeted with the strap on her pocketbook. The moonlight reflected on her golden strands and cast an opalescent glow.
“Good night.” I didn’t move away. She leaned closer. I pressed my hand against the door, caging her in, surrounding her. Her honey brown eyes darkened to a mahogany in the shadow. The eyes I never wanted to forget. The familiar light scent of coconut wafted through the breeze. I bent closer, breathing her in. She remained still, but her chest lifted and fell at a more rapid pace. I hovered over her, the inches between us serving as a barrier between what I should do and what I wanted. Her tongue flicked over her bottom lip, leaving a sheen over the full pink curve.
“God, Luna, I’ve missed you.”
Her palm pressed against my chest, holding me away.
“Really?” The whispered question cut across the winter night. “I’ve missed you, too.”
Those dark eyes met mine, and her fingers grazed my jaw with a light touch. My restraint snapped.
My mouth claimed hers. Familiar and warm. I kissed her slowly, remembering. My heart pounded, and my body quivered, as emotion I’d locked down leaked through the cracks.
A frantic urgency swept over us. She tugged at my sweater and explored beneath it, roaming over my bare chest, the winter air nipping the exposed skin. I lifted her shirt and tweaked her nipple, and it hardened beneath my touch. We couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t bare enough.
She wrapped her legs around my waist, and I pressed her against the wall, dry humping her like a horny teenager until the squawk of a nearby seagull reminded me how exposed we both were. I reached down for the doorknob, and we tumbled inside.
I kicked the door closed as she lifted her sweater and threw it across the room. I followed suit, then began unbuttoning my jeans, eager to be free of them. She did the same. I paused, taking her in. She stood before me in white silk panties and nothing else. The moonlight coated her skin. The lines of her flat, smooth belly were accented by night shadows. Her nipples peaked above the pearly curve of her breasts and her hair cascaded down her shoulders, wild and unkempt. She was gorgeous and wild, and a better man my age would stay away.
I stalked toward her, intent on claiming her as mine. Screw being right. I angled her head up, my fingers tangled in her hair, and kissed her. As our tongues tangled, she gripped my cock, and the unexpected touch and pleasure almost sent me over the edge. I groaned, breaking our kiss, as the base of my spine tightened with need.
I pushed her down on the bed and crawled up her delectable body, kissing and sucking and biting my way up those long, toned legs to her apex. She lifted her hips to allow me to remove those prim and proper panties. And then I tasted her. Fuck, it had been so long. So long since I’d made her come with my tongue. Seen her body squirm as my fingers worked away on her. Heard her moan and twist and felt her quiver. So long since she chanted, “Th, th, th, th…Tate.” Our acoustic musical melody.
I grinned as she fell apart, then kissed my way up along her body, bit her nipple until she squealed and spread her legs wide, wrapping them around me, welcoming me in. Her warmth and tightness encapsulated my throbbing cock, and fuck, she felt like home. We felt too fucking good, too right.
“Fuck, Luna. You feel so good, so tight. If you keep moving
like that, I’m…” And then she tilted those hips up more as her fingers slid down and coaxed right above our joining. The sight of her working her clit combined with her moans and the tremors kneading my cock was all too much, and I exploded, pulsing deep into her.
I collapsed onto her, gasping for air. Kissed her shoulder, her neck, the soft skin below her ear.
“That was too fast. Sorry.”
“I came, too.” She ran her fingers to my hair and brushed her lips against mine. “It was perfect.”
We held each other, with soft, slow touches. Relearning our way around each other, as if neither of us could believe we were once again tangled together.
Once our heartrates had calmed, I pulled a light blanket over us and settled her onto my chest. I combed her hair with my fingers. “I’ve missed you. So much.”
She lifted her head, studied me, then bent down and bit me.
“Ow.”
“Could have fooled me,” she scolded. “What the fuck, Tate? A note? No text? How is that remotely okay?”
A weight fell heavily over me. How to explain the detachment I fell into when away? As if I slipped through a portal to another world. It felt monumentally difficult to communicate to the other side. She waited for my response.
“I thought the note was best.”
She pinched me, and I squirmed then caught her hand. “In retrospect, it was selfish. Cowardly. I didn’t want to say goodbye to you, Luna. Not ever. It felt too difficult. And then, when I was away, I missed you too much. It felt easier to shut it down and block it out.”
“Block what? Emotions?”
I teased her hair, combing out the knots.
“Yes…I suppose. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time, Luna.” I wanted her forever, but I loved her too much to lock her down when she had so much to live for, so many choices to make.
“You know that goes two ways, right?” She raised her head so she could look me in the eye. I loved looking into those eyes, observing the varying shades, from day to night. Holding her in my arms, a contentment fell over me, an ease and warmth I’d missed. For me, she was perfection. But, for her, while it might feel good to her, I had no business destroying her dreams.
“That’s a point we’ll need to agree to disagree on. One day, you’ll see. You’re going to want to be with a younger guy, someone who is free to do everything you’re supposed to do in your twenties. You have no business being saddled down with an old guy and his teenage daughter.”
She slapped her hand against me, and the loudness of her skin against mine in the quiet of the cottage startled us both. “Shit, did I hurt you?”
I lifted the offending hand and kissed her fingers. “It didn’t hurt.”
“Good.” She dropped a kiss to my chest. “Now, as far as this notion of yours that I’m going to dump you for a younger guy…I don’t know what to do with that. But I was with a younger guy while you were away, and I still wanted you.”
“You dated someone?” I wrapped a long strand of hair around my finger as I absorbed her words.
“My high school boyfriend. Brandon. He moved back home. To Florida.”
My lungs deflated. Jealousy twirled. An irrational response. We were apart. I had known, had been aware, at her age, she’d move on. A faint light glinted across her ceiling.
“Brandon and I…” I froze. “I haven’t had sex with anyone else since you. If that’s what you’re worried about, you know, since we just, you know, without a condom.”
That hadn’t been where my thoughts had gone at all. I hated the idea of any other man touching her.
“Brandon, he—”
“Stop. Don’t tell me.”
“I couldn’t forget about you. Brandon and my sister tried to get me to go out on a date or two, but I had no interest.”
Conflicting emotions swirled. A caveman desire to tell her she couldn’t date anyone else, she couldn’t be with anyone else, fought with a childish impulse to push her away and punish her for dating. But her naked form pressed against mine. The internal and the external clashed. Too much to take. “I’ve got to get going.”
She draped her leg over mine and straddled me. Comprehension of my emotional state eluded her. The proximity of her still wet center had my cock twitching.
“Don’t do that.”
“I need to go.”
“Don’t block me out.”
“That’s not what—”
“Listen.” She blocked my words with a finger pressed to my lips. “Too many relationships end because there’s too much worry about what will be. Don’t do that. Give us a chance.”
I flipped her over onto her back to gain control. Those dark eyes glistened. I dipped my head and traced kisses down her neck, over her beating heart. She skimmed her calf along my thigh.
“Do you agree?” she prompted. I’d almost forgotten what we were talking about.
“No worry? Focus on now?” I asked. She grinned. God, to be that young and optimistic.
“You’ll be gone in less than a year, right?”
She reached between us and tugged on my half-erect cock. “That’s a year away. Who says you and Jasmine won’t move with me? She’s going to need a bigger community and friends. Let’s take it day by day. See where life takes us.”
I watched the magic of her hand, pressing my hips into it.
“Tate?”
“Yes?”
“Look here. In my eyes.” I tore my gaze away from her hand. “I fell in love with you. I don’t know what it will be like a year from now. But how about we take each day as it comes? Together, okay? And I wouldn’t try to be a mother to Jasmine. But I’ve thought about it, and I can still be an important person in her life. I can be a mentor or a friend. I can be a woman she can rely on. You care about her, and you are giving her a new life. And I can be there for her too. No matter what happens between you and me, I can be there for her too. For both of you.”
And fuck if I didn’t explode in a completely different way.
Some time later, I kissed my girlfriend goodnight, promising to deliver her golf cart to her in the morning. My girlfriend. It felt like a juvenile label, and clearly the hormones had engulfed my head, because I felt a strong urge to magnify that descriptor.
It wasn’t until the gravel ground beneath my feet as I made my way back to Jasmine that the reality of what I’d agreed to weighed down on me. Taking it day by day made all the sense in the world at twenty-two. But in my thirties, with an adopted teenager, it didn’t. Did it?
My phone glowed on the countertop as I closed my front door with care. I tiptoed inside, overly cautious given Jasmine slept three floors above.
I picked up the phone, expecting a goodnight text from Luna.
My entire body froze. Ice.
Photo after photo. From an unrecognized number. Jasmine on the golf cart. Jasmine eating an Icee. Jasmine on a surfboard. Luna on the path beside my cottage. Luna and me on the beach. Earlier tonight.
Chapter 30
Tate
* * *
I dropped my phone. Plastic cover on tile. The thud shattered the dark’s stillness. Three by three, I ascended the stairs. With a shaky hand, I twisted the knob on the third floor. A body lay sprawled out on the bed, covers kicked off.
I gasped for air. Relief overflowed. Her chest rose and fell in peaceful slumber. I closed the door. Stopped by the second floor and locked my balcony door. Double-checked the locks on the double-hung windows overlooking the bedroom balcony. Reason informed me the lock on the door and the windows were essentially useless, as all someone would need to do was shatter the glass and step right through. Downstairs, I repeated the futile process, locking the windows we opened and closed throughout the day and never locked. But with that text, everything changed.
We weren’t safe here. But we’d be safer together. I jumped on the cart and pressed the accelerator flat down, garnering as much speed as one could on an old battery-operated golf cart. The faint hum o
f the battery engine blended with the shrill cry of crickets and the dull, constant beat of waves.
As I ascended the hill to Luna’s, the beacon light from the ship offshore caught my attention. I shivered. I rammed my fist against Luna’s front door while simultaneously twisting the knob and discovering it unlocked. She popped up in bed, rubbing her eyes.
“Come on. Get your stuff. You’re coming back with me.”
“What?” she asked, dazed.
“You’re in danger.”
“Huh?”
She wasn’t moving. Panic flooded my thoughts. I had to get back to Jasmine. An empty suitcase rested in the corner, and I flung it open, then one by one, opened the six dresser drawers and threw items in.
“Grab your toothbrush. Whatever you need.”
She sat on the bed, head cocked sideways.
“Now. We’re going. Now!”
She flinched. Then moved. She exited the bathroom with a toothbrush wrapped in toilet paper on one end. She threw it in the open suitcase, and I zipped it up.
“Let’s go.”
Barefoot, in a t-shirt that fell mid-ass, she followed me out to the golf cart. I turned and almost lost it.
“It’s winter. Shit, Luna.” In a flash, I re-entered her cottage, snatched up her coat, and threw it at her.
The icy wind penetrated as we sped back home to Jasmine. Luna’s sleep fog lifted.
“What’s going on?”
“They’re on the island.”
“Who?”
“Zane’s men.” The ship’s beacon seemed to follow us along the street. An eerie awareness lingered. The panic gripping my ribcage eased as the street sloped downward behind the rows of houses dotting the shoreline.
“What do they want?”
“I’m going to guess money. I don’t really know.” But those photos. I knew his tactics. We used them in ports to grease negotiations. He wanted something. Those I loved were collateral.
“What…I’m so confused.” She ran a hand over her face.