EXcapades

by Kay, Debra

  Standing in the sunlit family room, Blake looked exquisite with copper and yellow streaked strands of his hair shimmering in the light. He touched my back softly. “There’s something I want to show you,” he said.

  While opening the doors leading outside, I took in the fresh, warm ocean air. Stepping onto the expansive deck, I saw a chaise lounge, a round metal table, and chairs bursting with colors from the yellow, orange, and red toss pillows that were scattered across the furniture. We admired the four large terra cotta pots that overflowed with pink and white petunias.

  When we looked into the distance, we saw a breathtaking panoramic view of the ocean. Sunlight spilled out over the water. A glimmering splay of golden light flared across the rippling waves. The afternoon sun slowly dropped to the horizon, where light blue sky appeared to merge with the royal blue sea.

  The glistening beige sand was the only thing that separated us from the backdrop of layers of blue. And up and down the beach, large colorful umbrellas dotted the landscape like an open box of crayons.

  We heard the crash of the waves, and it became rhythmic music in the background. “This is a little piece of paradise,” Blake said. He turned to me, his golden eyes glistening, making me want to kiss him right there.

  “It’s just what I needed.”

  “How about we get some wine to celebrate our brief escape from reality?” he asked.

  I followed him into the house, and found it impossible to keep my eyes off his tight bottom. A shiver of excitement poured through me, followed by a tingle of warmth that spread across my pelvis.

  Oh, how I longed for a man’s touch, Blake’s touch. That thought consumed me as I lifted the crystal wine glasses from the cabinet and opened a bottle of Cupcake Chardonnay. I filled our glasses, handed one to Blake, and felt his fingertips brush against mine.

  He boomed in a festive voice, lifting his glass, “Cheers, to fun times and reunions. Your assignment, should you accept it, is to relax and enjoy the weekend.”

  I tipped my glass toward his. “To new beginnings.”

  He smiled. “Yes. And no pressure from me for anything. But I’m getting hungry. Let’s start on that shrimp feast,” he said.

  While cooking dinner, we caught each other up on gossip about mutual acquaintances. Blake asked me about my marriage and my daughter. Without getting into too many details, I shared how I felt like my married life became all about compromises, especially with a child involved. “The way I see it, if one person ends up making more of the sacrifices then the marriage can become off balance. The person who always has to give in becomes frustrated; in this case, it was me. I eventually realized that I was always forced to make concessions, to keep him content. And when I started to stand up for myself, and express my opinions, he moved on to a younger version of me—probably one who would cave in easily to his demands.” And I don’t think I even need to elaborate further on his desire for a younger partner.

  Blake shook his head in disbelief. “You seem to have a good perspective on it, though,” he said.

  “Really, what choice did I have?” I shrugged.

  Blake looked at me with compassion in his eyes. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said.

  I nodded. “I didn’t really realize while I was married how distant Peter and I had grown. Sometimes it takes a while to recognize that the happiness has faded away. You start to wake up each day with a stranger and no longer even have a bond of friendship. That’s what happened in our relationship; I became so lonely.”

  “Married and lonely? That’s no good.”

  “When I wasn’t working, I would spend my days while Jenny was in school, shopping and buying stuff that I didn’t need, to fill a house that was too big for us to manage and enjoy. When in reality, my life was empty. I was trying to fill that void with stuff. I’m starting to realize that real happiness can’t be bought; it comes from within.”

  To my dismay, Blake actually seemed interested in learning the details of my life, as he leaned forward and asked, “And how are you now?”

  I shot him a stunned sideways glance. “After the marriage disintegrated, I had to remind myself of the value of friendships. And now, I realize my trusted friends are my extended family. Sometimes your inner circle changes, whether you like it or not,” I said.

  Blake smiled warmly. “I hope you’ll count me as one of your friends. And I can’t understand why your ex-husband didn’t see the treasure he had with you.”

  Blake, who had been chopping vegetables while talking, stopped what he was doing. He looked into my eyes. “Some people just can’t seem to appreciate what they have and always feel the need for more. Not only are you witty and clever, but strikingly beautiful, too. I have been enamored all day.”

  “Thank you. You always know the perfect thing to say. Actually, I’m glad to start my life over and to reevaluate choices that were made along the way.” I met his half-smile with my own.

  “I’ll toast you again to that comment,” he said, lifting his glass.

  “Cheers to starting over and rekindled friendships,” I said. And with that comment, Blake clinked his glass with mine.

  I paused. “And you understand that if I talk about Peter, it’s my way of saying good-bye to him and to what we shared. It truly is time to move forward and live in the present. Not to forget the past, but to learn from it and grow.”

  “The way I see it, sometimes the things you want so badly don’t work out because there’s something better for you around the corner waiting to be discovered. It’s not until you look back that you realize this is true,” Blake said reflectively.

  I wanted to stand up and applaud his words, but instead I said, “You’re right on with that one. And sometimes things don’t work out because we were too young and inexperienced to realize a good thing when we had it.” We stopped to give each other a knowing, thoughtful look.

  Blake smiled. “That’s true.”

  “We didn’t get to talk much about your travels with the Marines at the coffee shop last week. I’d love to hear more about that.”

  He looked into the distance as if gathering his thoughts. In the silence that followed, I could hear the faint sound of the waves crashing. Was the tide was rolling in?

  “My life became focused on my career. Let me tell you about it after we try some of those chocolate truffles we bought today.”

  “Chocolate truffles—you’re introducing me to trouble. What else do you have planned? I remember how you can be persuasive. I caught occasional glimpses of that dark side when we were young.”

  Blake handed me the cellophane bag of chocolates. I reached in and pulled out a ball of dark chocolate with white sprinkles. I handed the bag back to him. He selected a dark chocolate ball with brown sprinkles. He bit into a gooey chocolate center and grinned.

  “Okay, sometimes I was the bad boy. But I can thank the military for straightening me out. It’s a demanding lifestyle. You’re given an assignment and then you have to focus on your job. And it took me on adventures around the world.”

  Blake shared stories of his various assignments that had him stationed in Washington, D.C., Iraq, and Afghanistan, not to mention several locations in North Carolina. And then his voice trailed off, and he appeared lost in thought.

  “Right now, I’m involved with training at Camp Lejeune. I like working with the young recruits. Their enthusiasm is infectious. It’s a pleasure going to work every day. I didn’t feel that way about every assignment I had over the years. I’ve seen the world from many angles.”

  “Sadly, my view has been pretty straightforward from the suburbs. My life seems a little narrow compared to yours.”

  “I wish mine had been a little out of focus. I’ve seen more than I want to think about right now.”

  During our discussion, I thought there were hints of the young boy I knew years ago, but overall, he had, without a doubt, transformed into a confident and knowledgeable man. Listening to him made me feel so proud of his wi
llingness to dedicate his life to the service and the honor he felt in defending our country. I admired everything I knew about him at this point, and I felt intrigued and wanted to know more details.

  And knowing that he was capable of handling so many challenges was such a turn-on. I started to look at him dreamily and wondered if he had any idea what a rush it was to be with such a confident and accomplished man. I knew I would lose myself completely if I saw him in uniform.

  “After serving in Iraq for a couple years,” he explained, “I was sent to Afghanistan.”

  I looked at him with respect and astonishment. Although I had traveled out of the country, I never spent years away. I leaned in closer. I wanted to know everything, to hear more about his assignments and adventures, but at the same time, I did not want to barrage him with questions.

  He hesitated and appeared to be cautious about sharing his past, especially what he said about his career. He gave sketchy details about his assignments. From his reluctance to share, I couldn’t help but assume that the military instilled a stoic nature to the demands of the assignments.

  He continued slowly. “Both were stressful assignments. I’d rather not weigh down our good time with this discussion tonight. Let’s talk about it another time.”

  “I understand.” There was no need to find out too much about his responsibilities tonight.

  Leaning in closer, Blake said, “Tell me more about Jenny.”

  Before I spoke, I wondered if my life seemed small to him in comparison. “Well—“

  “Lila,” he said, as if reading my mind, “I think being a parent is the most important job a person can have. I admire the effort you’ve put into Jenny’s upbringing. You, no doubt, did a great job raising her.” His face had never seemed so endearing. “Tell me about her.”

  “Where do I start? She’s her own person. She’s picky about the boys she dates and hasn’t really had a serious boyfriend. Over the years she has put academics, her community service, and athletics first. And she excelled at everything she put her energy into. She was on the swim team since middle school and usually placed in the 100-meter freestyle.” Even I noticed the uplifting musical lilt in my voice describing being a mother.

  “She has a lot going for her, like her mother.”

  “I’m lucky because Jenny is an incredible, thoughtful person. She was even an easy teenager.”

  “Is she an artist like you?”

  “Yes. She loves to help me with my projects. And boy do we have fun. There are times we laugh so hard we nearly fall over.” I had to shake myself a little to stop. “Sorry. Proud mom. You asked. But really, I feel grateful that I got to raise her.”

  “I love hearing about her and hope I get to meet her one day.”

  “She’s about the same age we were when we first started dating. And she thinks she can take on the world and win. Just like we did.”

  Blake listened intently with his head leaned in, his chin resting on his fist. “That’s an interesting way to put our youthful exuberance, that nothing-can-stop-me attitude,” he said, looking at me thoughtfully. “I’m still trying to win. I haven’t completely lost that attitude and hope I never do.”

  “The two of you would get along just fine.”

  “Great. And I think a parent’s influence goes a long way in raising a child, and no doubt you did a terrific job.”

  “Thank you.”

  I needed to remind myself this was a vacation—time to have some fun and relax. I glanced around this spectacular house in admiration. The home had quite a setup for any place, especially a beach house. The kitchen was new and spacious. We had plenty of room to maneuver while we prepared the meal.

  Blake clapped his hands together. “I’m starving. I hope you’ll like my specialty, shrimp wrapped in bacon with a sweet barbeque sauce,” he said. And following that declaration, Blake went to the refrigerator and began rummaging through the shelves. He pulled out the shrimp, bacon, onion, and lettuce.

  In the cabinets, he found a large skillet and placed it on the stove. Meanwhile, I turned on the radio. Instantly, the sound of “Beautiful Day” by U2 carried through the house and the deck speakers.

  Blake cheerfully whistled in tune with the melody while he diced an onion and tossed the small pieces into a saucepan next to the bacon. A few minutes later, the house was filled with the smell of bacon frying and the tangy aroma of onion.

  The song faded and a new song began—“Dancing in the Dark” by Bruce Springsteen. Blake surprised me when he started to dance. “I can’t believe this song is on now,” he said. His voice was almost inaudible with the loud music. He snapped his fingers in tune, walked over to the bar stool I sat on, and began stroking my hair. I was chopping vegetables for the salad but stopped.

  “Remember when we used lie in the warm sun, studying and listening to this song?” he asked.

  “Like it was yesterday. Funny how a song can transport a person back in time.”

  Blake grinned. “I know what you mean. Sounds and smells are gateways through time. Does that seem odd, or do you know what I mean?” he asked.

  “I think I do.”

  “Let me test out that theory. Stand up and let me take in your scent,” he said.

  Not wanting to argue with his request, I stood next to him while he draped his arms across my shoulders. Blake leaned his head down next to the nape of my neck and drew in a deep breath.

  And I followed suit with his experiment. I inhaled his essence and at once his inimitable scent took me back.

  I gave him a startled gaze. “That was exhilarating. Just one sniff of your scent and my mind raced back to the first time we kissed.”

  “Shouldn’t we re-create that scene?” he questioned.

  “I thought you would never ask,” I teased.

  “Honestly, I wanted to kiss you again from the first second I saw you.” He reached both hands across my temples, slid his hands down my cheeks, and held my face between his strong hands.

  His lips touched mine slowly; his delicious kiss was soft, tender, and loving, with his warm breath against my mouth. He ran the tip of his tongue across my lips. And I whimpered a soft sigh as his tongue began exploring my mouth.

  Then, suddenly, we were interrupted by the pungent smell of burning bacon.

  “Good grief, I burned it,” Blake cried out, pulling away. “I forgot my kitchen responsibilities. You seem to have that effect on me.”

  Blake began scurrying around, taking the pan off the hot stove. I opened a window to let the smoke clear out. When I turned back around, the crispy bacon was on a plate. Blake was straining the boiling shrimp. And now steam filled the kitchen.

  Relieved the crisis was over, I washed the fresh blueberries and placed them in a serving bowl and then followed the same routine with the strawberries.

  Next, I helped Blake cut the French bread into sections, and we slid them onto the serving plate. He swirled the olive oil and herbs. He began tearing his bread and sopping it in the mixture. “Yummy. You need to try a bite of this bread. The fresh herbs we mixed in with the oil are scrumptious,” he said.

  While he spoke, I leaned forward on the bar, propping my chin between my hands. I watched him dice a cucumber. “Imagine this, a gorgeous man who is comfortable in the kitchen and likes to cook. That’s sexy.”

  He paused, looked up at me, and smiled warmly. “Spend Thanksgiving with me and you’ll really be turned on.”

  I laughed. “Now you’re talking, a day in paradise. You and me rolling in mashed potatoes and dripping butter.”

  “Should I start licking at the top or at the bottom?” he asked. He laughed and I joined in, feeling jovial and content. “How about I start with your white meat and then finish with your dark?” He flashed a naughty grin. “But I like my meat a little on the pink side,” he continued, chuckling.

  “Should we wait until Thanksgiving?”

  He stirred the barbeque sauce and licked the spoon. “Better not wait. I’m hungry.”

/>   I pushed the shredded lettuce into a bowl. “Yes. Very

  hung . . . ry, as I recall.” My eyes focused on him intensely.

  I realized that we just got each other’s humor. No matter how silly. He had been the first and only man to make me feel so comfortable just being myself—where I felt as if I could let my hair down and say my goofy jokes.

  Years ago, he had been the first man to make me feel at ease naked. And just thinking about those hot summer days lying together undressed made a warm tingle spread across my abdomen. I shook myself out of my reverie. And to my delight, my reality was nearly as evocative as my daydream.

  My eyes followed Blake as he walked across the kitchen to the sink. I admired how fit he had remained, his bottom tight like I remembered. My focus also fastened on his broad shoulders and toned muscular arms. He must have cast a spell on me. Or better yet, he tossed out a fishing line and I was hooked. Release me, please.

  My eyes were fixed steadily on him when he handed me a crystal wine glass. “I mixed a drink for you. I hope you like it. It’s my summertime favorite, Chardonnay with a twist of lime mixed together with a splash of citrus soda,” he said.

  I beamed. “Wine mixed with caffeine; I love it.”

  Using his strong hands, he crushed the lime into the glass to make himself a drink. He cupped his hand around the lime and squeezed. At that moment, I wanted to curve my hands around his firm rear end and squeeze.

  After drying his hands on the dishtowel, he turned back around and looked at me. I couldn’t take my eyes off his rippling arms, but I tried not to be too obvious. I suddenly realized how long it had been since I’d had sex. And my desire to see him naked continued to stir something deep inside me that had been dormant for much too long. This awakening felt like the roar of a lion. I wonder if he can hear that roar. I hope not; it might scare him away.