by Kelly Moore
Part of me doesn’t want to be here, but the other part wants to support Will. “I’ll stay,” I say as I brush a piece of his hair off his forehead.
He leans in and places a soft kiss on my cheek. “Thank you. I really need to be here for my mother.”
I wrap my hand in the crook of his elbow as his mother does the same. His father locks eyes with Caroline as we pass by him. He walks a few steps behind us until we reach the graveside.
This part is for the immediate family only. I stand off to the side and let each one of them say their goodbyes. Will places his arm lovingly around his mother’s shoulders as the coffin is lowered into the ground.
Will kisses his mother’s cheek and walks over to me, taking my hand for me to follow him. “I can’t watch them throw the dirt on him,” he says as his voice is trapped in a sob.
I follow him back to the limo, and we both remain silent for the ride back to his house.
My feet move fast to keep up with him going up the marble stairs. I follow him into his room, where he plops on his bed while removing his tie. His hands go gently on my hips as I stand in front of him. I tug at his jacket, removing it from his shoulders. He wiggles his arms free, and I take it with the intent of dropping it over the high-back plaid chair sitting in the corner of his room. As I lay it over the back, I see the wadded-up paper sticking out of the pocket of his jacket.
He watches me as I take it out and flatten the wrinkles out of it. My lips slightly move as I read the beautiful words that he had handwritten. I notice several of the letters are flipped around. This is pretty typical of someone with dyslexia. It doesn’t slow me down because the words he has written are musical.
“This is beautiful, Will. Why didn’t you read it?” I lay it down on the nightstand and walk in front of him. His hands find my hips again.
“When I get nervous, I lose written words. The letters started spinning, and they jumbled up with no separations between them.”
I take his hands and lock our fingers together as I kneel in front of him. “If you want, I have a technique I’ve learned on how to help with that.”
“All I want right now is to kiss you.” He unlocks our hands, and his fingertips trace my lips. “You are so damn beautiful, it hurts to look at you.”
Funny he says that because I thought the same thing when I first laid eyes on him.
I open my mouth to tell him I’m not beautiful, and his finger presses against my lips, hushing me. His finger is replaced by his mouth and his tongue dipping in for a taste. Mine dances with his, and I softly nip at the divot in his bottom lip that I find sexy as hell.
He pulls me onto his lap, and then he lies down, taking me with him. We both become breathless over the passion that is building between us. He places both of his hands on either side of my face and pulls me away from him by mere inches.
“I need to stop because if I continue to kiss you, it will end with me buried deep inside you.”
His eyes are fully dilated, and I can see the lust beaming from them. “I don’t want to stop kissing you,” I say while licking his taste from my lips.
He rolls over, taking me with him, tucking me tightly underneath him. His hard-on is pressing into my hip. “I’m telling you, I can’t stop at only kissing you.” His eyes search back and forth at mine. “Do you want more?”
I want to scream yes! Yes, I do! But the rational part of me that doesn’t really know this man and plans everything takes control. “I’m leaving in two days.”
He runs the tip of his nose down my neck and inhales. “Then I have two days to make you fall completely in love with me.”
Chapter 5
It’s a beautiful summer day as we drive through the barrier islands. The wind is blowing my hair everywhere. Will rented a Jeep with no doors or windows. He said it was the only way to experience the beauty of Tybee Island.
He looks over at me with his dark aviator sunglasses and laughs at me trying to control the tangles.
“Sorry. I should have warned you this morning. You still look beautiful.”
I gather all my hair in one hand. “I look like a crazy woman.”
He swerves over on the narrow shoulder of the road. “Look out there.” He’s pointing into the clear blue water.
I shade my eyes with my hand, and I see dolphins dipping in and out of the water. “Oh my God, they’re magnificent. I’ve never seen one in real life before.” I jump out of the Jeep and start taking pictures with my phone.
“There’s a place not far from here that we can swim with them if you would like,” he yells from behind the wheel.
“Really? That would be so much fun,” I say, getting back inside. “But, I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”
“Who needs clothes? The dolphins don’t care if you’re naked.” He winks at me, and I blush.
“How much further do we have?” I ask so that I can change the subject.
“The lighthouse is right around the next curve.”
A few minutes later he pulls the Jeep into an empty parking lot that overlooks the ocean. The black-and-white lighthouse sits down on the water’s edge. It’s surrounded by a white sandy beach, but it’s perched on the greenest grass I’ve ever seen. There’s a white picket fence enclosing it and a large white house with black shutters sitting on the same plot of grass. There is also a small building attached to the lighthouse with a bright red roof, which contrasts with all the other colors, making it stand out.
“Why are there no people here?”
“It’s a Monday morning, most people are working. The tourists will show up a little later. Come on, let’s go inside.”
I slip off my sandals to follow him in the sand. I love the feel of it between my toes. It’s cool in comparison to the hot morning sun. The gate squeaks as Will opens it for me. “After you.” He splays out his hand.
“Such the gentleman,” I tease.
“Well, I was raised by a Southern belle.” He laughs.
There is a sign on the front porch of the house that says, “Light Keepers Office.”
Will opens the screen door, and I follow him inside.
“Hi, Will. I haven’t seen you here in a while.” An elderly man stands from behind a desk.
“Hi, Mr. Smith. It’s good to see you. How’s that beautiful wife of yours?”
“She’s good and out of my hair for a few days, visiting her sister.” He chuckles.
“You know you couldn’t live without her.” Will laughs back.
“Who’s this pretty young lady?”
“This is Maggie Harper. She’s from New York, and she’s never seen a lighthouse before. How about I give her the grand tour?”
“It’s nice to meet you, Maggie. You’re in good hands because Will knows this place like the back of his hand.”
Will drapes his arm casually over my shoulder. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Smith.”
“Let’s go, Mags. I bet we can see some more dolphins from the top of the lighthouse.”
He takes my hand, and I follow him to the narrow door. The scent of damp, musty air takes the place of the ocean smells. I slip my shoes back on before I step on the latticed metal steps that are spiraling up the inside of the lighthouse. The underside of my hair is instantly damp from the heat and no air moving through. Only a few steps in and my calves are already protesting with a burning feeling. I grip the metal railing firmly as I peer out of one of the open portholes, hoping to get a breeze on my skin, but it’s just as stale and hot. I lean a little closer, and my long-sleeved blouse catches on the grout between the bricks in the wall. I draw my arm back to see a snag in my sleeve.
“Why did you wear long sleeves anyway?” Will snorts as he continues his climb.
We finally make it to the landing that leads to a vertical ladder that will take us up to the top. Will goes first and pushes open the door. A slight breeze blows through, cooling me down a bit. He climbs through the door and holds it open for me as I make my way up the ladder. The balcony of th
e lighthouse is surrounded by wrought iron. Wind whips through and carries sand with it. I cover my eyes tightly before it gets in them. A squawk of a seagull has me opening them again.
I hold on to the railing as I look out over the ocean. “The water is so blue.”
“If you look out into the ocean, you can see fishermen on the horizon.”
“Oh look, there are some more dolphins.” I point. “I bet this is even more amazing by starlight and the lighthouse whirling around.”
Will leans both his forearms on the railing. “It is. Many men have proposed here at night to the woman that he loves.”
I mimic his position. “Is this where you proposed to Phoebe?”
“No. She actually proposed to me.” He snorts.
“What?” I look over at him.
“Yep. I wasn’t even thinking about marriage.” He lays his head on the railing and gazes over at me.
“Why did you say yes?”
“Because I thought it was what she really wanted.”
“So, have you ever proposed to a woman?”
“Nope, but I would make sure I do it right.” His face lights up with a smile.
“You’re such the charmer, aren’t you?”
“Have you ever been proposed to?” He’s standing up straight, now facing me.
“No. Not even close.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’ve been too busy getting my life together.”
“Tell me about your family.”
I want to avoid this subject altogether. “There is nothing to tell. Normal everyday family.” A lie is much better than the truth in this case.
“Tell me why you always wear long sleeves?” He tugs at my blouse.
“Can’t we just enjoy the view?” I ask, walking around to the other side of the balcony.
I hear his shoes following me on the metal grate. “We can, but I’d also like to get to know you a little better.” He stops me and pulls me into his arms for a kiss.
It’s a sweet and tender kiss, nothing passionate. When our mouths part, I rub the lipstick from his bottom lip. “That color really doesn’t suit you.” I giggle.
“Why the long sleeves, Mags?” I try to wiggle free, but he holds me tight.
“Please, Will. Don’t make me tell you.”
“I’m going to find out sooner or later when I strip you out of these clothes and make love to you.”
I hang my head between us. “Once you find out, you won’t want me anymore.”
He releases one hand and lifts my chin up toward him. “Try me.”
“Okay, but I warned you.” He releases his grip, and I roll up my sleeves and hold my arms out.”
He stares at my scars, and I see his lip quiver. “You use drugs?”
“No…yes…I mean, I don’t ever remember using them, but the scars are there.”
“How can you not remember?” His light tone has changed to a deeper more serious one.
“There is a large block of my life that I don’t remember. Maybe it’s a defense mechanism. I don’t know. Something tragic must have happened.” I rub at my throbbing temples.
“You said you have a normal family.”
“There is nothing normal about my family. My mom died of a drug overdose when I was younger, and my father is in prison for selling drugs. But, I swear to you that I don’t ever remember doing them myself.”
His finger traces my scar. “These are old.”
“Yes.” I search his eyes, trying to see if he believes me.
“I have an idea, so you won’t have to wear long sleeves anymore.”
I feel my brows draw together with confusion. “What?”
He pushes up his short-sleeved shirt. “A tattoo.”
“I don’t know.” I brush my sleeves down. “Maybe. Do you think a tattoo looks good on a woman?”
“Smokin’ hot!” he says. “I know the perfect person to do it.” He takes my hand and leads me back down the old metal staircase.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask, my voice echoing off the walls around us.
He stops abruptly, and I nearly run into him. “It’s your body. You have to be sure. The way I see it, you can either wear long sleeves the rest of your life and hide, or you can be free from hiding.”
The thought has never occurred to me that I’m not free. Now that he has said it, I want to be totally free, to be who I am and not hide anymore. I feel like a weight that I didn’t know I was bearing is lifted, and I press my lips to his. “Thank you for not judging me and believing me.”
“What do you say about those tattoos?”
“I say let’s do it.”
We make our way back to the Jeep, and Will runs inside to say goodbye to Mr. Smith while I strap myself in the seat.
I don’t know why, but I feel happy, and a smile covers my face.
Will jumps in and buckles up. “So, what are you going to get tattooed on your arms?”
“I have no earthly idea,” I say with a grin. “I guess I have until we get to the tattoo shop to figure it out.”
Will spends the next few minutes making a call to his tattoo artist friend, and I have an appointment with him in an hour. The drive back into Savannah doesn’t take long, and we have a little time to kill. There is a small bakery next to the Red Dragon Tattoo parlor.
I nervously bite my nails thinking about what I want to do. Will sits down at the small cafe table with two donuts and two large coffees. “Have you decided yet?”
I pick up my phone and Google tattoos and scroll through a few until one catches my eye. It’s lacework with small flowers embedded into the seams. The lines and curves are very intricate. It starts at the top of the shoulder and runs down to the knuckles of the hand. I lay my phone on the table and turn it in his direction.
“That’s gorgeous. You know that’s going to take all day for one sleeve. Maybe only work on covering the scarred areas today. You still have to do the other arm.”
“I was thinking about that. This arm isn’t scarred as badly, and I think it could be covered with arrows going around my arm. The arrowheads could fan outward and cover the edges.” I have my arm laid out on the table showing him.
“I think that would work. You need to eat up because it’s going to be a long day for you.” He pushes the donut toward me.
The Red Dragon Tattoo parlor’s sign flashes green in the artsy looking window with beautiful paintings displayed beside it. The bell chimes as we enter the brightly lit business. There are shelves of tattoo portfolios in binders, and one wall is covered in tattoo drawings. I almost feel like I’m in an art gallery, except for the strong smell of antiseptic flowing through the room.
“Hey, Tank! Are you here?” Will yells.
A big burly man, dressed in black jeans and a white button-down shirt that has the Red Dragon emblem on it, comes from the back room.
“Hey, buddy. Long time no see.” He shakes Will’s hand.
“This is Maggie.”
“Will told me you’ve never had a tattoo before.”
“Nope, this will be a first.”
“Do you have any idea what you want done?”
I describe in detail the sleeve and the arrows I want on the other arm and show him the picture I found online. He walks past me and turns off the flashing red open sign.
“This sounds like an all-day project to me. Can I get you something to drink before we start?”
“Maybe some water.” My nerves start to take over thinking about the needles delving into my arm. The muscles in my back tense with apprehension over the oncoming pain, yet I feel the pulsating of my vein in my arm like it’s asking for something more than ink.
Will rubs my shoulders. “You okay?”
“Yeah, a little nervous though.
“Tank here has the gentlest touch. We grew up together and trust me, he’s a teddy bear.”
“Don’t be telling beautiful women that I’m a soft touch.” He chuckles.
�
�Don't be giving me shit. There is only one woman you care about, and she’s a dynamo.” Will lowers his voice. “His wife is only five feet two, but she keeps Tank in line.”
I have to laugh visualizing it because from the looks of Tank, he’s six-five by six-five.
“She is the love of my life.” His face lights up when he talks about his wife. “Come on back here and change out of your blouse into this cape.” He points to a room covered by a black curtain.
I sashay off into the small room and slip out of my blouse and put on the sleeveless cape. Feeling self-conscious, I automatically drape my arms over my chest, hiding my scars. Will is sitting on the edge of a table covered in white disposable paper and Tank is washing his hands.
Will pats the spot next to him for me to sit down. “I promise, you will love his work.”
I sit, and Will gets up, taking a seat in the recliner next to Tank.
I lie down, close my eyes, and take some deep calming breaths in and out. My eyes fly open when I feel Tank’s gloved hand touch my skin.
“You are going to have to unwrap your arms from around your body if you want me to tattoo them,” he says, then winks at me.
The bright twinkle in his eyes relaxes me. I slowly extend my arm out, and he rotates it out, getting a better look. His eyes tighten the moment he sees my scars. I glance over at Will, and he simply nods, letting me know it will be okay.
“Can I see the picture on your phone again?” Tank asks.
I take it out of my pocket and hand it to him. He studies for a moment then turns it toward me. “I’m going to adjust this a little bit, making the lacy part fall on the inside of your arm. It will help mask these even more.” He has a smile back on his face, easing my embarrassment. “Don’t worry, Maggie. We’ve all done stupid things in our life at some point. I’m not one to pass judgment. I’m only glad that you found your way through it.”
I want to tell him that’s not how it is, but the evidence is engraved on my skin. Besides, his kindness eases my nerves.
“Here, put these on. They’ll help pass the time.” Will hands me a large pair of headsets with music already blaring through them.