by Marni Mann
I was curious about how he’d respond.
“You really need to stop listening to that fucking kid. He’s filling you with lies and you shouldn’t believe any of them.”
“I—“
“Do you really believe he only thinks of you as a friend?” he asked, interrupting me and my thoughts. “You don’t think he wants to slip his fingers down those tight little jeans of yours?”
When I imagined Saint making that move, a blush washed over my face, and it traveled to my chest and tingled all the way down to my stomach. “No, I…don’t think he wants to do that to me.”
I couldn’t believe there was a competition building between these two. It didn’t matter; Saint would easily win me, despite how hard I tried to fight against these sensations.
I honestly didn’t believe Brady had true feelings for me.
But I wondered if Saint did.
“Then you’re just as crazy as he is,” he said.
He turned into the Coswells’ driveway, weaving around the path that bent through the trees. I wished we hadn’t gotten to the house so quickly. This was the closest he’d come to opening up, and there was so much more I wanted to know. But it didn’t feel right to push him.
He parked in front of the steps. Bella stared at us from the pane of glass next to the door. I unhooked my seat belt and turned toward him, tucking my leg beneath me. “Do you—“
“I’m going swimming,” he said, interrupting me again.
“Then I am, too.”
“Drew…” The strain crossed his forehead, his eyes, even his lips. “If you get in that water tonight, I’m going to have to make sure you’re safe. That means I’ll have to watch you. And I know—I just fucking know—I won’t be able to keep my hands off you this time.”
As soon as I opened my mouth, Saint darted forward and caught my lip between his teeth. He pulled it into his mouth and sucked on it roughly. There was nothing gentle about his movements…there was nothing gentle about mine, either. My fingers crawled through his hair, clenching a handful and pulling him closer. The whiskers around his mouth dragged over my skin; I responded to the soft-harsh sensation with a lustful moan. The sound made him grab me even tighter, his fingers tracing a pattern up my stomach and pausing just below my breasts. I ached for him.
I dropped my hands and let them linger on the hardness of his chest, then the tightness of his abs. I dipped my fingers under the bottom of his shirt, finally landing on his burning skin, and he reached under my shirt as well. My groans became louder when he flicked the tip of his finger over my nipple. When his speed and intensity increased, I kissed him even deeper.
My back was fully pressed against the steamed window. He pushed himself out of his seat and leaned more toward me. I couldn’t move. I was caged between his arms…the same way that girl had been in the alley earlier. The thought hit like a strobe light. I was blinded, locked, unable to concentrate on anything other than the image of him wrapped around her like he was now wrapped around me. I hated my photographic brain for capturing that moment, holding it like a snapshot I didn’t want to keep. No matter how much I tried to remove it, I couldn’t. Neither could the feel of his lips or his fingers stroking my breasts and squeezing my nipples.
He sensed the change and pulled away. He waited until his breath calmed before he finally said, “Let me get you inside.” He carefully lifted me off the door and opened it. Then he slid across the seat to help me out. With his hand around my waist, he led me up the front steps.
“Thanks for the ride.” I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t even know what to think. I knew we were close to having something more happen…and I wasn’t so sure I was relieved that it hadn’t.
In a fluid sweep, he released me and snatched the keys out of my hand, inserted one into the door and opened it. Bella greeted us, brushing her body around both of our legs. I reached my hand down to graze her fur. I made no other movement and neither did he. He stood facing me, our eyes fixed on each other. Heat lingered on my skin where his fingers had been. My mouth still felt roughened by his lips.
Ordinarily, his silence was a comfort. But I couldn’t take the way it hung between us, and it seemed like that was all he was going to give me tonight. So I let my stare linger on him for one second more, and then I moved inside. No words, no touch, no kiss good-bye. I didn’t even ask when I would see him again.
I closed the door without turning around, and I didn’t even bother checking the window to see if he still stood on the porch. Bella joined me on the couch, and I wrapped my arms around her neck and buried my face in her fur.
The silence spread through the room suddenly. It swam around me, shuffling its way inside my head. I could handle the lack of noise in here. Maybe that was because it was a welcomed silence…and that was something I hadn’t ever heard in this house.
And that it had everything to do with Saint.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I AWOKE THE NEXT MORNING with one thought in my head: I’d been in Maine just short of three weeks. With that thought came a blast of pain. The sun was far too strong for the ache behind my eyes so I rolled over to face the back of the couch. It was Saturday; Brady wouldn’t be here until Monday, which was good…it would take me at least that long to figure out what to say to him.
I needed a break from everyone.
Instead of going out in the backyard with Bella, letting her relax under the fall air while I gazed at Saint’s boat, I took her into town to get coffee. I was going to need some fuel. Andy had called and asked me to go through every drawer and closet in the house and decide if there was anything I wanted to keep—including the furnishings. I had today to complete it all; he had scheduled a crew to come in on Sunday to box all the paperwork and remove the personal items from the house to make the renovation work easier. According to the attorney, Shirley had already taken everything she wanted when she left the US. The rest was mine if I wanted it. But aside from going in my mom’s old room, I hadn’t searched the house at all. I had no desire to; I didn’t think the answers I was looking for were in here. I felt like they were buried with my mom and her parents or they were off continent with an aunt I didn’t even know.
With an extra-large to-go mug in my hand, I spent the morning looking through the closets in Shirley’s room and in the master bedroom. There was nothing in either of them that was worth saving. The clothes were as dated as the furniture and the bath products had long since expired. None of the papers in either of their desks taught me anything—at least not about my mom. I saved the nightstand next to the Coswells’ bed for last. People usually kept extra personal items in their nightstand… I had kept a vibrator and condoms in mine.
I tried to prepare myself for whatever Marilyn’s might hold.
I knelt on the floor in front of it, noticing her dainty glasses that rested on top, and carefully opened the top drawer. It was filled with paperback romances, a few pill bottles, and loose tissues. Inside the bottom drawer were two envelopes. When I saw the handwriting on the front of them, my entire body began to shake. My breathing sped up.
It was from Mom. Our return address was in the top left corner.
Why had I waited so long to search the Coswells’ bedroom?
Lifting the envelopes out of the drawer, I gently opened the first one and removed the piece of notebook paper. The muscles in my stomach clenched as I began to read.
***
My Dearest Mother,
Today was Drew’s third birthday. My baby’s growing so fast; she’s so smart, so willful, so determined. She’s much smarter than I ever was. Those little teal eyes follow me wherever I go. Sometimes, when I dress her in navy, they turn a deep indigo and other times a light aqua. Those darn eyes…I can’t say no to them, especially when she wraps her little arms around me and looks up, her big dark curls bouncing over her shoulders. She’s always so close to me. I can feel her love. I only hope she can feel mine.
I wish you could see her eyes.
I wish you could see her.
When I get her settled in bed and I’m about to kiss her goodnight, she waits for my voice; her full attention is on me, her eyes wide and ready to take in each of my words. Just like you. You were always the best listener. You never interrupted me. You heard me, Mom, even if you didn’t agree with everything I said. The similarities between you two don’t stop there. I also see it in her hands, how they’re like miniature versions of yours, nimble and fluid. I can already tell she’s creative like you. I see it in the way she draws and builds and plays. I can see in her eyes and her expression that she finds everything so beautiful.
She’s too young to remember the stories I tell her at night, but they always include an adventure from home. My home—Maine, the place I still hold in my heart. When she wakes up every morning, she smells like the scent of rain. It’s a freshness, just like Maine. She may never get to visit that wonder of a state, and probably never with me, but I’ll make sure she experiences it through me—the colors, the tastes, the smells. I’ll make sure my daughter knows about my home.
My daughter.
Three years later and those words still feel new to me. She’s quite the wonder, this little girl. She’s the best decision I’ve ever made. She’s the best part of me, and the best parts of you, too. I like to think you’d be proud of her, Mom. Proud of us both.
Love,
Rebecca
***
The cold air seeped through my sweatshirt and it trickled through my socks. I hadn’t bothered putting on shoes or a jacket; I’d just grabbed the bottle of wine from the fridge, ran out of the house, and found a place to sit on the rocky peninsula. The black sky above was a welcoming sign, a sight I’d grown familiar with over the last few weeks. I didn’t want to be in the ocean tonight.
I didn’t walk to talk anymore, either.
I’d spent the last two hours on the phone with Gianna. We’d analyzed each word of that letter and hadn’t come up with any new information. If anything, I’d ended up more mystified seeing my mom write Marilyn such a heartfelt note…one that was about me, no less. I hadn’t even bothered to open the second letter. One had been enough. Too much, actually.
I wish you could see her eyes…I wish you could see her.
I wanted air tonight. And a buzz. And a return of silence in my head.
I took a long chug from the bottle and swallowed. The bottle had been in the fridge and already opened before I’d even arrived in Maine. I could taste how stale the wine was. I didn’t care. The warmth was slowly starting to spread through me.
It was only teasing me.
I also see it in her hands, how they’re like miniature versions of yours, nimble and fluid. I can already tell she’s creative like you.
I wondered what she’d think if she knew I hadn’t touched my camera since her death. That my inspiration to create had died with them.
As I took another sip, I heard Saint walking down the dock toward his boat. It was around the time he usually returned from wherever he spent his evening…and whoever he spent it with. The thought made me want to heave. Instead, I just swallowed down even more wine. Gianna was scheduled to come in two weeks. Maybe once she arrived, I’d stop spending so much time outside. I wouldn’t be reminded each night of the women he was with or be tempted to join him in the water. Maybe I wouldn’t crave him at all anymore.
Maybe this bottle wouldn’t feel so good in my hands.
I held my breath as I took another swig. I hated wine—the scent and the flavor. But I didn’t know what else to do, how to make it all stop. How to make it right. I couldn’t change the truth or the thoughts in my head.
I couldn’t bring them back. Any of them. I wanted to.
I really wanted to.
Because I had turned my back to his boat, I saw his shadow first. The light from the dock was cast around his body, combining with the moonlight to create a reflection that danced over the waves. I heard him again, his sounds getting louder: the shuffling of his boots, his breathing. My nose filled with his scent.
He reached between my hands, trying to remove the wine and replace it with a bottle of water. “Take a sip.”
I pulled the wine out of his fingers, held the bottle to my chest, and tucked my knees against it. ”I’d rather have this.”
He palmed the heels of my sock-covered feet, then my toes. “Where are your shoes?”
“Inside.”
“And your jacket?”
“Next to my shoes.”
He started walking up the peninsula. The movement sent me a breeze of his scent. I closed my eyes again and breathed it in, hoping the smell would stop the screaming inside my head and trigger something else—something within my body instead. When it didn’t, I shouted over my shoulder, “Where are you going?”
“To get your shoes.”
When I stood, I could feel the freezing rock through the thin cotton of my socks. I didn’t know if they were wet or just really cold. Probably both. “I don’t need my shoes.” He ignored me, moving over the lawn while Bella and I stayed on the peninsula. I didn’t need him to wait on me. I sure as hell didn’t need any more of his attention since all it did was come with confusion.
I needed to be alone.
That was what I’d needed this whole time.
“Come on, girl,” I said to Bella.
I left the wine and the bottle of water on the rock and jogged toward the house. Once inside, I heard Saint in the living room. He picked up my boots and my jacket and carried them to me. They were still next to my suitcase; I hadn’t bothered putting anything away.
I didn’t move as he approached. I just stayed in the doorway, leaning my back into the wooden frame and holding it between my fingers.
“Why is your stuff down here?” he asked.
“Because that,” I said, pointing toward the couch, “is where I sleep.”
He stopped when he was only a few feet away. “Not in one of the beds?”
“Especially not in one of the beds. This house isn’t exactly all warm and fuzzy.”
“I get it.” He took a step closer. His free hand lifted a chunk of hair off my lip and tucked it behind my ear. Flutters immediately arose in my stomach. “Put these on for me, okay?”
I took the jacket and boots out of his hand. When I felt my back start to slip, I squeezed the wood even tighter. Then I threw both items on the floor. “I don’t want them. I don’t want anything.”
“Drew—“
“It’s too much. You. My parents. Something has to give…and my parents are dead. So…that leaves you.” The wine made me a little unsteady and my hands were too weak to hold my weight. I let my back slide, crossing my legs when I reached the floor. “You were with another girl tonight, weren’t you?”
His hands wrapped around each side of the wooden frame; his forehead rested in the middle. He stared down at me, gazing into my face. I knew how disgusting I looked. I’d cried most of my makeup off when I had been on the phone with Gianna. The rest had dried in patches all over my cheeks and chin. I could feel the knots in the wavy nest of hair I hadn’t bothered to dry when I’d gotten out of the shower. I was a mess.
But I didn’t care how I looked.
I also didn’t care that he saw me this way. This was me. My rawest, most vulnerable state. He would either appreciate the mess I was, or he would run. I let myself believe that either one was fine with me.
His fingers turned white and his chest began to rise and fall faster than usual. I couldn’t tell if he was angry or concerned or something else. And really, I shouldn’t have cared. But I did.
“What do you want from me, Drew?” His face was full of pain. I knew that feeling, and I wanted to take it all away. “I’m trying to stay the hell away from you. I really am. But I can’t. I just can’t…there’s something about you.”
The unspoken thoughts between us were so intense, they were probably audible to everyone in the area. So was the sexual tension. But I wasn’t going to b
e the one to start anything, especially if there was a chance that he’d been with another girl tonight.
But if he instigated it, I knew I’d have a hard time stopping it.
He slowly closed the gap between us and I held my breath, preparing for his lips, for his hands to caress my body. If that happened, I’d push him away…at least that was what I told myself. But his fingers and mouth didn’t come anywhere near me. His shoulder did; it pressed into my lower stomach and he lifted me into the air. I folded right over him, my arms dangling over the back of his thighs, my legs hanging over his stomach. He was carrying me.
Again.
This was getting to be ridiculous.
“Where the hell are you taking me?” I snapped, banging my hands on his thighs and trying to squirm out of his grip.
He rushed through the kitchen, stopping only when he reached the back door. “Bella, I’m going to take Drew away for a little while. I’ll bring her back—I promise. You stay here, girl.” Bella took a seat by the door.
“Saint, tell me where we’re going right now!”
He continued to ignore me while he moved down the steps and jogged across the lawn to his property. I felt like I was in water, weightless with just his hand resting on top of my thighs. And I felt tiny against his body since he was almost twice the size of me.
He didn’t let me down until we reached the back side of his boat where he placed me in a chair. “Don’t move,” he said, disappearing to the front. I heard a door open and close.
I had no idea what I was doing on this boat or if this was even the best place for me. But after following him into the house, something inside me felt a little better. The pain had turned to a dull ache. Maybe it was just masked by the confusion he caused. At least that was more than the wine had done.
“Put this on.” He handed me a wetsuit and a second one hung in his hands.
My eyes scanned the long rubbery garment, then the clothes that bound my body. I’d have to strip or the snug suit wouldn’t fit. “You want me to change into that?”