Be All

by Marie Wathen

  “I don’t use it - ever. I put it in my purse or backpack with the intent to use it at a perfect pen opportunity. It never happens. I don’t want to use them because I will overuse it and then it would be gone. So I end up with several fabulous unused pens in the bottom of my purse.” Waiting for my judgment now, she sits quietly rubbing her hand over her arm. Thinking to myself, I bet if I were as psychiatrist I’m sure I could tell a lot about her from this one little issue. She denies herself even the simplest of pleasures.

  Breaking the tension, I confess my own fondness to pens. “I like great pens too, but usually I just steal them from the doctor’s office. What? They have twenty in that little cup just sitting there taunting me. I figure they put there for the same reason they have the penny tray at the gas stations with the sign reading, ‘Need a penny take a penny.’” A hearty laugh burst out of her.

  This is exactly what we needed to lighten our heavy mood. Pressing my lips tightly together to hide my triumphant smile, my eyes roam down her body and I’m reminded that she is still in my shirt. Thinking how her sweet smell is going to be all over it when I get it back, I want her to take it off now. Another smile breaks across my face -- this one is lustful, filled with dirty thoughts of her naked in my truck.

  Dammit. I need a distraction from my shameless musing. "Exactly how long have you known Tristan and Anna?” I hope this line of questioning eases the pressure building in my jeans. Not wanting to lose what little ground I’ve gained with her tonight, I can’t let her see how turned on I am right now. She’ll run from me and that’s unacceptable.

  "Well duh, we’ve all known each other our whole lives.” She busts into a fit of giggles from this one simple question. Uncertain what the dramatic response is about, I roll with it. Maybe she’s grateful for the change of topic.

  "Duh?" Shaking my head slightly, I point at her. "Woman, don't you duh me!" Her giggle breaks into a full belly laugh. "What? It's not that funny."

  Confused, I cross my arms and lean my back against the window while I watch her in the soft light glowing from the radio on my dashboard. She is so fucking incredible and everything that she thinks makes her fucked up I find unique and sexy. Would I find them sexy on anyone else? Doubtful. She’s a complete contradiction. Soft but hard, sweet but a menace - mostly to herself - I love her laugh and it rips my heart to see her hurting. I love rainy nights so much more now. Realization hits me - I’m fucking falling for her.

  Oh damn all things to fucking hell.

  Her laughter stops and looks at me, realizing my mind is no longer in the truck, but some far off place. That’s exactly where I should go, so damn far from this truck right now.

  She teases, "Oh hell no! I'm sorry but you know being from the south we are used to the guys having these cute redneck accents, and when they make a statement inserting the word 'woman' into it, that term can be taken one of two ways. Either they are trying to assert their authority over their girlfriend and are considered adorable. Or they are trying to assert their authority over their girlfriend and they are an ass. Lucky for you, you're not a true southern boy and I'm not your girlfriend. Otherwise we would be dealing with your statement in the latter sense. And you would be heading to the ER nursing a fat lip." Contagious laughter fills my truck.

  "Ok, that was fun. I'm sorry. What was your question again?" she asks carefully. Her eyes sweep over me in a way that tells me she liked saying the word girlfriend to me as much as I like hearing it come from those sexy lips.

  Releasing a breath, I finally remember what the hell I had asked her. "How long..." I start but she cuts me off.

  "That's right you were asking how long I've known Trist and Anna. You realize it’s a small island and you can't hide for long here.” Realization of the full weight of that statement causes my heart to jump. I hope she can find a way to forgive me when she discovers my little secrets.

  Flashing a sexy grin at me, she laughs. “Relax. I'm finished giving you shit…for now.” She winks playfully and I shudder. “So, I’ve lived on the same road as Anna since birth. I didn’t go to preschool, I stayed home with my,” Dropping her glossy eyes down to watch her trembling fingers lying on her lap, she takes a slow, steady breath. “Anna’s my polar opposite. I can’t think of one thing we have ever completely agreed on. Sometimes she can sway me to her way of thinking, but I’m just as stubborn as she is so we disagree a lot. She’s fun and sometimes overbearing.” She rolls her eyes as I feign shock at her understatement. Anna is severely overbearing.

  “I know, I know but what can I say. I’ve gotten used to her I guess, or maybe having Tristan as the buffer has helped over the years. He was always good to me in school and everybody knows ‘The Tristan Walker.’ In middle school, he formed a tiny crush on her and every day he would drill me relentlessly for details about her, needing to know if she liked him too. God he was annoying.” She smirks, faking disgust, but her eyes betray her reflecting true happiness. “He still is annoying. At first, I ignored him but then somewhere along the way through his tenacity I offered him scraps. Lovesick doesn't even cover how far that boy was gone over her. I’m sure being his cousin you already know all of this about him.” Her lips lift at the corners and there’s a wistful look in her eyes. Lost in her unmatchable beauty and the dreaminess of her tone, I realize that she’s become silent, waiting for my response.

  Clearing my throat, I try to clear my thoughts too. “Tristan has always been Mr. Popular and their relationship has been legit for quite a while. I met Anna when we were in elementary school. What baffles me is where have you been hiding all this time?” Chancing a quick glance at her, I slant my head and watch her from my peripheral.

  She sighs, “It is weird that we never met I guess. Did you only come back to Willow during the summer?” she asks inquisitively.

  Thrilled that she really wants to know more about me, I smile thinking about a different time, a time before my family life became turbulent and we ran off to another country.

  “No, I was born here. Morgan and I spent every summer in Willow except for last year when we stayed in Europe and traveled.” Thinking back, it was the best time I ever had with Morgan until our relationship ended because of his betrayal with Elise.

  Refusing to focus on them, I move our conversation topic back to her. But my voice comes out in a growl as I say, “So, Breesan.” Liking the way her name sounds in a heady rumble, I bite back a needy groan. She smiles like she enjoys hearing it too.

  Fuck, she’s killing my resolve to be good. Endlessly lost to her, she may never know.

  “Tell me about yourself and don’t leave out any details.” Smiling at her I playfully say, “I have magical powers and I’ll be able to tell if you do.” I smirk, lifting an eyebrow at her.

  "Sure thing Harry Potter," she jokes; laughter, so beautiful and so real, fills my truck and I feel like I’m home. What?

  Home

  Chapter 16

  Breesan

  "There's really not much to tell. I'm an only child. You can't imagine what that's like." I don't know how much I want to tell him. Those crazy zapping feelings are back again and he's making me feel other things…slightly nervous but mostly needy.

  Lust

  Talking is a good distraction. But after tonight, there's not going to be a distraction big or crazy enough to keep him out -- he's locked in without hope of escape, or am I the prisoner?

  Ugh shit.

  Continuing to talk, I pray it will keep my focus off his naked chest and those sexy tattoos and allow me to censor what I reveal about myself. Tonight has been crazy, but seeing him here after nearly dying from that damn power pole is surreal.

  Excited, my body betrayed me by fucking coming to life when our eyes met, which took a few minutes because his eyes were roaming all over my body. I hadn't realized my clothes were soaking wet and sticking to everything. He got his fill, and thankfully Tristan and Officer Monroe didn't act like Marcus, ’Total Perv’ Walker. It really was sweet of him to let me
wear his shirt. Now every damn time I move, I smell his cologne combined with his own scent and it’s driving me wild.

  Nearly falling to my knees, I climbed into his truck and one of my favorite songs was blaring on the radio. If he were to tell me he is in a band, I don't think I could stop myself from falling for him. Jeez. He really has some strange hold on me. Wicked thoughts of us kissing, touching and much more makes me a wanton slut, but why must I want him? Sometimes he seems like he feels them too, but then he tells me he won’t be with me. I need to forget wanting him, but I wish someone would tell that to my body.

  "I don't know, with a brother like Morgan it probably would have been nice being an only child." He winks. Still debating and editing my life story for him, I don’t offer a response. Repulsion may be how he feels after hearing the truth and I won't have to worry about my body's lustful reactions.

  I sigh, "My mother died having me and I hold myself responsible." Glancing at him, I pray I don’t make him hate me.

  "Please don't look at me like that. I don't need your pity. I know it's fucked up to think this way but it is what it is. My dad remarried after two years of mourning my mother's death. Julia is also my mother's sister. She assumed the role of my mother with a strange eagerness but she wasn't…" Sighing, I pause, still editing, "I don't think she was really ready for motherhood. She's still pretty much like an aunt…but not a good one…" He allows me another pause without saying a word. Somewhere during my verbal dump, Marcus has turned the truck off, giving me his full attention.

  "You're staring at me like I'm a freak. I hate how it sounds," I whisper, wishing nothing more than to go back in time and stop this crap from coming out of my mouth. Remaining still, no words pass from either of us for a while. I want to tell him everything but I'm not sure I have the strength. Being strong isn't easy because my heart cries for him to accept me and more.

  "Listen, I know it's weird but my dad was single and had a baby to take care of and well, Julia, she loves my dad, sort of, I think. That’s what she led him, and everyone else, to believe but I just don't believe it anymore. I wish I could have known my real mom. Julia was well - she tried to keep my mother's spirit alive for me. She always told me how amazing my mother was and showed me pictures of her. I think she idolized my mom, like freaky, neurotic type idolizing. My dad is the best man I have ever known. He is a Captain in the military. Soon after his deployment thirteen years ago, he was captured and is being held hostage by the rebels. Bastards! But our government tried to tell us that he's dead, but they didn't bring his body home and I refused to believe he could be gone."

  Feeling an urgency to cry, I take a moment, slowing my heart rate and calming my breathing. Silent tears slip out, unnoticed by Marcus, and I casually wipe them. Unable to stop, I continue revealing pieces of me to him.

  "They tried to get us to hold a memorial service in honor of his sacrifice for his country. Said it would help us face the truth and begin the healing process. That is such crap. Julia got really pissed because I will never accept that he's dead. She even sent me to a shrink. There was nothing that doctor could say that could convince me either. I have to find him but I don't even know how to start a search like that and Julia won't help. It sounds fucked up but I know that he's still alive. I haven't lost my mind Marcus." Struggling, I barely breathe while fear taunts me. A panic attack in front of him will be too much.

  Realizing too late, I have just exposed my scars to him. Son of a bitch, why am I telling Marcus all of this? I draw in a stiff breath and drop my head into my hands, covering my face. I'm so embarrassed and he's still hasn't said anything.

  "Ohgod Marcus, I'm sorry," I whisper, "I don't know why I just said all of that, that…that shit. I…I honestly don't normally just spew my private business to total strangers. But now you know all of my deep dark secrets and fuck…"

  Rapidly shaking my head, still in my hands, I wish to God I could make him forget everything I just shared. Talk about an impossible request, he’ll never forget some foolish girl word-vomiting all of her bullshit. Pounding so loudly in my ears, my heart thumps erratically, surely he’s able to hear it too. There's no way he couldn't. Why did I let my guard down with him? Why did I tell him all of this? Why now? Freaking out now, I feel terribly uncomfortable and just want to leap out of his truck, putting as much distance between us as possible. I'm suddenly afraid for him to speak. When he does, I hope I don't hear pity in his voice. Pity is not something I’ll be able to take, not from him.

  Noticing movement between my fingers, I turn my head slowly letting my gaze fall over him. He reaches across the console with his hand stretching out toward me. His palm is face up, like he is waiting for me to take it. Confused, I look at it for a moment then I glance from it up to his face.

  “Come here baby,” he says lovingly. Without hesitation, he grabs my wrist gently dragging me across the truck onto his lap.

  Initially, my body stiffens from such intimate contact with him. Other than dancing, jiu-jitsu and sleeping on the swing, all with him, I have never been this physically close to a man.

  Leaning his forehead against mine, he searches deep into my eyes. I tremble but my body warms instantly from his tenderness. I'm intoxicated by him and his scent: cinnamon and sandalwood. I'm overwhelmed by the power he holds over my body, it is undeniable. Watching him lick his lips, I stifle a whimper. Betrayed by my body, I naturally sink into him but it’s still not good enough. I need more. As if he could read my mind he moves slightly, tucking me further into his embrace. Now his big arms wrap tightly around my waist. He buries his face into my hair and I nuzzled mine into the curve of his neck. It feels so natural, so perfect being held like this by him. This is the most comfort anyone, other than Anna, has ever given me. Croons loving words, he begins to rock us. He repeats the words, “I’m here baby,” over and over.

  Safe

  Feeling a crack somewhere deep inside my chest, I finally do something I haven't done in twelve years. I cry for my mom and dad. Transfixed on the crack in my foundation, I don’t notice my lips sliding along his neck, until he shudders through a moan. Embarrassed at what I’m doing, I freeze. Tightening his grip around me, I quit struggling against this moment but keep my betraying lips far away from that sexy-ass neck.

  After sometime we notice that it’s quit raining. Sitting in Marcus' truck next to the shelter in a partially lit alley, it feels like he has taken me to another world, a safer place.

  He is my safe place. Too soon my defenses begin rebuilding. My ragged breath is the only sound in the tight space because we haven't spoken and I begin to feel self-conscious. What does he think of me now? And why did he pull me into his arms? What about his girlfriend outside the bookstore? Fuck, now I feel guilty for thoughts of wanting an unavailable man.

  Panic washes over me and I chide myself for not keeping my shit together, for not staying on my side of this mother fucking truck. Ohgod I would have been fine if he had just left me on my damn side of the truck. I can't believe I just broke down in front of him. Shit, shit, shit. I feel stupid now, but what do I do? Needing to get out of this truck and his embrace, I squirm on his lap, pulling away but he tightens his grip, refusing to let me go.

  Sliding his hands up my arms and shoulders, he places his warm palms on my cheeks. With his fingers framing my face, brushing away loose hairs, he scans over my face.

  "It will be ok," he murmurs hoarsely and honesty shines in his words, along with his understanding and accepting expression.

  Only four words and my heart crashes hard against my chest. It's such a cliché response, typically given by any random person as bullshit reassurance in any situation. But Marcus isn't consoling me, it's a promise. He's not saying it just to make me feel better; it's a vow that he will make sure I'm okay. With his certainty, a possibility of a new life breathes into me. Holding me for a long time, words spin in my mind. “It’s coming down” and I know I’m slowing losing my fight and my solitary world.

  Finally
, he releases his hold on me helping me back over to the passenger side. Putting the truck into gear, we pull back onto the highway toward Tristan's house.

  The storm is nothing but the morning news with the canceling of all the weather warnings. Emotionally drained, I don't think I can take much more. I ask Marcus to drop me off at my house and he submits without argument. As soon as he applies the brakes in my driveway, I jerk open the truck door and drop down from my seat. Moving quickly, I don’t allow him the opportunity to say anything. Breathing erratically from fear and desire, I rush toward my front door. I can’t look at him.

  "Good night baby," he says softly and this time I don't give a damn because I love him calling me that name. He and my dad are the only two men who will ever have that right.

  Sending off a quick text once inside my house, I need Anna to get over me breaking my promise to stay with her tonight. I just need to sort through everything that's happened over the past few weeks. My life is almost unrecognizable now, but I still have Anna and by association Tristan. That’s not true he's always been there for me through some really difficult times too. And what of Morgan? How do I feel about him? Truly, I’m happy when I’m with him and he really is trying. But Marcus, he could own me. There’s no denying it. Every scar in my horrible past begs for his soothing. But he belongs to another woman, a very lucky, no a blessed woman. Whatever emerges from either, if anything, it seems that my very tight circle, that once included just Anna and me, is growing.

  – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –