Love in Maine

by Connie Falconeri

  “Yes,” Maddie said. “I’m so excited.”

  Hank leaned in closer and whispered so his lips touched the curve of her ear. “Good, because I love it when you’re excited.”

  He might as well have put his hand between her thighs: that was how much it turned her on. Before she could gather her scattered thoughts, Hank had hopped out of the car with a jovial, “Thanks!” to the car-parker. He talked to the guy for a few seconds while Maddie tried to become a little less flustered.

  “Just the two bags in the backseat,” Hank was saying. “I’ll grab the backpack.” He reached into the backseat and pulled out his canvas rucksack, then winked at Maddie. “Hustle up, I want you in that bed, pronto,” he said from the backseat.

  Maddie jumped out of the car, her door also held open by a uniformed attendant, and followed Hank into the soaring glass-and-marble lobby. He took her hand, and they walked together to the check-in desk.

  “Hello, may I help you?” The days of checking the Social Register to see if someone was of a high enough quality to stay at the Ritz-Carlton were long gone. Maddie was in her usual tight black T-shirt and shorts, and Hank was in a . . .

  Hank looked like a frigging movie star. Maddie sized him up from a first-glance perspective and she smiled and turned to the smiling attendant. Maddie’s look of smug satisfaction pretty much exuded, Yeah, I’m with him. She hadn’t really noticed anything different about his appearance. Sometimes he wore the white-collared shirt and trim khakis that he had on today, instead of his usual uniform of gray T-shirt and cargo shorts. So what? But with his aviator sunglasses and backpack slung easily over one shoulder, Maddie realized, he looked exactly like a younger, hotter James eff-ing Bond checking into one of those tropical resorts after spending the morning chasing bad guys in his Aston Martin.

  “Gilbertson,” Hank said. “The Park View Suite.”

  Maddie gazed up at him like a silly teenager. He looked like a rock star, so she might as well swoon a little.

  “Excellent,” the professional attendant said. “Will you be using the credit card that you used to reserve the room?” She looked from Hank to Maddie without a blink. Clearly there was no snobbery. Despite the glamorous surroundings, it all felt particularly egalitarian. All who could afford to stay here were quite equal to one another.

  “Yes, here’s the card and my ID.” Hank passed his cards across the cool marble, and the woman took them and put the information into the computer. A couple of minutes later, she passed him a small gray packet holding the room cards. “You have access to our club level, so please feel free to join us for a complimentary cocktail after five. The gym and the pool are open until midnight. If you need anything at all, my name is Jane,” she said, then gestured behind Maddie and Hank to the valet. “And this is Vince, who will show you to your suite.”

  “Great. Thanks, Jane.”

  The woman smiled at Maddie, then back at Hank. “Have a great weekend.”

  Hank pulled Maddie along as she called over her shoulder, “I think we will!”

  They rode up in the elevator in a simmering silence. The bellman looked up at the digital numbers. Up. Up. Up. Every passing level cranked up Maddie’s adrenaline until she was set to burst when the doors finally opened at their floor.

  Hank hauled her out behind the bellman’s luggage cart. Kind Vince opened the door for them and set their luggage on the racks in the bedroom. He gave them a brief tour of the large suite, pointing out the safe and the refrigerator, and asking if there was anything else they needed.

  Hank handed him a twenty-dollar bill and the man (finally, thought Maddie) left.

  When Hank came back into the living room from the darkness of the small hallway that led to the door, he said, “Get undressed, Maddie.” He kicked off his shoes and pulled his button-down shirt up over his head. He tossed it on the back of one of the upholstered chairs. Maddie froze. Hank looked so predatory and delicious, she didn’t know whether to run toward him or away. He began to unbuckle his belt, her eyes glued to his hands and their deft movements.

  “Maddie!”

  She looked up into his eyes. “Uh. Yeah?”

  “Take. Your. Clothes. Off. Now.”

  “Oh, right.” She fumbled with the button closure of her shorts and then bent over awkwardly, pulling off her sneakers and socks, then pulling off the shorts. She pulled her T-shirt off and let it drop on the floor next to the shorts and shoes. She stood there in her bra and underwear and stared at Hank’s naked form as he moved around the space.

  He looked like he was doing forward recon. Opening cabinets, looking in closets. Then he pulled open the refrigerator and took out a bottle of champagne.

  “What do we have here?”

  Maddie stared at the flinch and ripple of his shoulder muscles as he popped the cork on the champagne bottle. He pulled two glasses from the small cabinet next to the refrigerator and poured.

  He walked to where she was standing. She realized that she had foolishly thought that Hank would be entering her world, or some stupid idea of the world of luxury and privilege that she had grown up in and around. What a fool.

  Hank was a total master of his surroundings. Of course he had some secret huge bank account that he never touched. Of course he could stroll into one of the most expensive rooms in one of the most expensive hotels in the world, and it would belong to him.

  “Drink.” He put the cold glass against Maddie’s lower lip and tilted it into her mouth. He poured slowly but he didn’t stop. Maddie nearly lost the rhythm of swallowing, then closed her eyes and relished the spark and ping of the bubbles as they slid down her throat. “That’s my girl.” When he pulled the empty glass away from her lips, Maddie opened her shining eyes, and Hank filled her entire field of vision. His face, his smiling lips, his broad naked shoulders. His chest.

  “I am, you know,” she whispered.

  “What are you?” He put both of the glasses on the dining room table behind Maddie and then began touching her . . . lightly along her shoulders, down the length of her bare arms, dragging his knuckles across the lace of her bra.

  “I’m your girl. I’m yours.” Her voice was so quiet she almost hoped he wouldn’t really hear her.

  “I know.” He dipped his head to hers and began kissing her, so slowly, with light tenderness, and then his hands gripped her waist and pulled her against him. She cried a low moan into his mouth. That set him off. Almost angry, he plunged deeper into her mouth, then lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom.

  “Did you bring a sexy dress?”

  Maddie was like a loose pile of useless muscle and bone. They’d been in that luxurious bedroom for over two hours, and she wasn’t sure she could stand, much less put on a dress and go out to dinner. Hank was in the huge marble bathroom, freshly showered, naked and shaving. Back to business as usual. How was that even possible?

  “Maddie?” He was pulling at his jaw to get a closer shave.

  “Mm-hmm?”

  He smiled into the mirror. “Get out of bed and into the shower. I need to see you against skyscrapers, remember?”

  Maddie carefully peeled herself off the mattress, then sat at the end of the bed until she was certain her legs would carry her the short distance to the bathroom.

  She let her fingertips drag across Hank’s lower back when she passed behind him on the way toward the shower. “Yes. I brought a dress. I don’t know how sexy it is.” She turned on the hot spray and stepped into the steaming glass shower enclosure.

  He finished shaving and turned to watch her in the cascading water.

  “Cut that out,” Maddie said. “Go get ready and wait for me in the living room. Let me get all pretty and surprise you.”

  “Okay, okay.” He tossed the hand towel on the marble counter next to the sink and left the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind him.

  Maddie had never been one for extensive makeup to begin with, but she only had the bare minimum with her, in any case. After she got out of the sho
wer and had twisted her hair up into a towel, she opened up her small cosmetics bag and set about making herself up. She took her time with the mascara and eye shadow and put a little bit of powder on her forehead and under her eyes. She didn’t need to add any color to her cheeks, seeing as Hank kept her in a perpetual flush. She added some sexy, dark red lipstick.

  She took the towel off her head and flipped her head over. She didn’t have any hair gel or mousse, so she decided to go with a loose-curled look. Her hair was dry and shimmering down past her shoulders a few minutes later.

  “Can I come out now?” Maddie called.

  “I’m in the living room,” came Hank’s muffled reply. “You’re all good.”

  She stepped out into the empty bedroom and went over to her duffle bag. She pulled out a little black dress that was made of that stretchy material that never wrinkled. Maddie laid it on the bed. She reached back into her bag and pulled out her favorite red bra and underwear set, then slipped them on and pulled the dress over her head. She wished she had a pair of killer heels for once in her life, but settled on the shiny silver sandals she’d worn that first day in Blake, and hadn’t had on since.

  As she put on a pair of silver hoop earrings and her wide silver cuff, she was overcome with a strange melancholy, imagining how good it would feel to get ready like this, for Hank, for the rest of her life. She gathered her disintegrating feelings and took a good long look at herself in the full-length mirror that was leaning against the far wall. Good enough.

  She walked out into the living room.

  “Not a lot to work with, I’m afraid.” Maddie gestured down at herself, feeling prettier than she had all summer, but still rather plain compared to what she could have looked like with open access to her full arsenal of clothes and shoes.

  When Maddie looked up and saw Hank in a coat and tie she nearly lost her footing. He was up from the couch and standing in front of her with that silent speed that she now recognized as distinctly his. He held her upper arms.

  “You look phenomenal, Madison Post.”

  Maddie congratulated herself on her good sense to forget the blush. Her neck and cheeks were hot immediately.

  “You too, Henry Gilbertson.”

  “I made a reservation somewhere. As a surprise. Is that okay?”

  Almost unable to look at him, Maddie peered over his shoulder as if she were more interested in the sunset view outside the window. “Sure. Whatever you decide is fine.”

  “Fine?” Hank touched Maddie’s face and gently made her face him.

  “Yes. Really, really fine.” She was about to become an emotional mess and she didn’t want to ruin their awesome weekend with some sort of preemptive bawling about how life was so unfair and why-did-she-have-to-go-back-to-her-senior-year-at-college-and-never-see-him-again?

  “We’re going to have a great time. Trust me.”

  Maddie tried to smile, but for some reason seeing him like this—in all his glory—was a hard pill to swallow. Sure. We’re going to have a great time. Until Monday. And then we’re never going to see each other again.

  “Come on.” Hank took her hand in his. “Stop being such a sad sack.” He led them to the door of their hotel room, but before he opened it out to the public hallway, he stopped in the narrow entryway. “Take off your underwear.”

  Maddie looked up with wide-eyed confusion. “What?”

  “You heard me. Off.”

  The bastard. He knew exactly how to get her mind off all that maudlin, I’m-going-to-miss-you-like-hell thinking.

  She shimmied off the red lace and held it up by one finger. “Are you going to be all kinky and carry it in your pocket?”

  “Nope.” He took it from her hand and threw it like a slingshot back into the living room. “Why do I need the underwear when I’ve got you?”

  He opened the door and held it open for her. “Off we go.”

  She felt more naked than she’d ever felt in her life.

  CHAPTER 15

  “Breezy out here, isn’t it?” Hank taunted, walking ahead of her down the hall and pressing the elevator button.

  “You are a lunatic,” Maddie said.

  “How lucky for you, since you’re obviously in need of a little lunacy.”

  She shook her head. The elevator doors opened, they stepped in, and then they closed. He was almost a stranger, dressed like Jason Statham and joking like that. But he was right. She needed to be wild and free this weekend. It was great. They were great. But there was no place for her in Blake, Maine, and there was no place for him during her senior year at Brown. But after . . .

  “Stop letting your mind wander. I’m right here.” He pulled her into a kiss, and they were still making out like a pair of teenagers when the elevator doors opened.

  “Madison Post! Is that you?”

  Maddie was too dazed to pull away from Hank altogether. She held onto his hand and stepped out into the lobby.

  “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Lodge. How are you?”

  Mr. Lodge was sizing up Hank. Mrs. Lodge was sizing up Hank.

  “Oh, pardon me,” Maddie said. “This is Henry Gilbertson. Henry, I’d like you to meet Lila and Theodore Lodge—”

  Ted Lodge, a fit, good-looking man in his early sixties, extended his firm hand toward Henry. “It’s a pleasure. You look familiar.”

  The elevator doors closed, and Maddie repressed a sigh that her parents’ friends the Lodges were still on this side of the silver doors. Ted Lodge was a good guy, old Boston Brahmin, modest in his way. But Maddie wasn’t in the mood to stand around explaining what she had been doing sucking face with Hank when they’d seen the doors open—

  “Your name sounds familiar, too,” Ted pressed. “Are you the same Henry Gilbertson who invented the patent for the deep-sea fiber-optic tubing?”

  Maddie’s head spun. “Yes, Henry. I’ve been meaning to ask you that.”

  Hank stared down at her, and she could have sworn he was thinking about the fact that she didn’t have any underwear on and she best be watching herself if she knew what was good for her.

  Hank’s look silenced Maddie and he turned back to Mr. Lodge. “Yes, sir. I was on the team that developed that. And you are at Ocean Works Laboratories, if I’m not mistaken.”

  Lodge looked proud to be known for something other than his old Boston ancestry. “Yes. Yes. Quite happy about what we’ve gotten up to down there in Woods Hole. If you have any time this weekend, I’d love to talk to you about what you’ve been doing with the depth/pressure components of the—”

  “I’m so sorry to interrupt, sir, but we don’t have more time to talk just now. Madison and I have a dinner reservation at seven thirty—”

  “Of course, of course,” Mr. Lodge said. “Wonderful to see you, Madison. Wonderful to finally meet you in person, Major Gilbertson. I hope we’ll get a chance to speak soon.”

  Mrs. Lodge was making not-very-subtle googly-eyes at Madison that might as well have spelled “N-I-C-E C-A-T-C-H” in skywriting.

  “Nice to see you, Mr. and Mrs. Lodge,” Maddie said.

  Hank said his good-byes and fended off Mr. Lodge’s encouragement to meet up later in the weekend with, “Sorry, but Maddie and I are going to be flat out for the next few days.”

  “Bye, dear. Say hello to your mother for me,” Lila Lodge called after them.

  “As if that will be necessary,” Maddie muttered, once she’d put a bit of distance between herself and the Lodges.

  “What’s that?” Hank asked when they were standing out on the sidewalk. “We need a taxi, please,” Hank said to the doorman, then turned back to Maddie. He kept his hand on her lower back, which made her slightly less churlish.

  “I said, ‘As if!’ There’s no way in hell I’ll need to tell my mom I bumped into Lila Lodge at the Ritz in Boston, because I’d lay odds that Lila is in that elevator right now dialing my mother’s phone to let her know.”

  “Let her know what?”

  Maddie threw her hands up. “Oh, forget
it. I don’t care what Lila Lodge says or does.”

  “Me neither,” Hank said, close to Maddie’s neck.

  The taxi pulled up, and Hank held the door open, then smirked at Maddie. She realized she was going to have to maneuver in and out of the car very carefully if she didn’t want to flash half of Boston while she was at it.

  “You are so going to pay for this,” Maddie said as she slid into the taxi. She held one hand at the hem of her dress, at the back of her thighs, to make sure the fabric didn’t fly up in the late summer wind.

  “Mistral, please,” Hank said when he got in after Maddie. The driver took off, and Hank settled the palm of his left hand between her legs. Maddie closed her eyes and muttered, “Did we just bump into someone in the lobby, I can’t remember . . .”

  Hank smiled and looked out the window at the passing tourists and pedestrians and children. When he was here like this with Maddie, everything seemed possible: bumping into mutual friends in hotel lobbies, going to dinner on a Friday night. He felt like he might be a whole person after all.

  While caressing the soft, warm skin of her inner thigh, Hank felt connected . . . to everything. He knew it was wrong. He was using her in the most rudimentary way. She was his ticket. When they were together, he was somehow able to look people in the eye and talk to people and just be. When he was at work and he’d seen her the night before, and knew he was going to see her again that night, he could manage just fine. But. The abyss was beginning to stretch before him. He had a few plans in place to put the misery at bay. He would travel. He would stay busy. He needed to make this weekend count. To make himself take everything he could from what he and Maddie had and savor it. For the future. Long-term savings.

  Because after this weekend, it was back to business. Any type of relationship beyond this summer just made him feel uncomfortable in his own skin. He didn’t want to meet her family. He didn’t want to meet her roommates. He didn’t want to attend her graduation. Hank wanted Maddie in his bed, and with him, like this, soft and pliable in his hands. He didn’t want to have to navigate the rest of it. The family gatherings. The parameters of commitment. It wasn’t that he wasn’t up for the challenge—who wouldn’t want to be with someone who made him feel the way she did, after all? It was more that he despised the idea of all those eyes on them, all those opinions, all that input.