Someone Else's Ocean

by Kate Stewart

  “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bastard,” he whispered, his apology sounding sincere. “Sleep.”

  I eased back into his strong hold as he took small liberties with his fingers. The weight of his body behind me was a reassuring reprieve from the constant ache. He pulled me tighter as the ocean breeze drifted over us. I pressed myself further into him and gripped the hand that stroked me as another debilitating wave took hold. I breathed through it as he murmured into my hair. Body tense, I cried quietly in his arms until I slipped back into an exhausted sleep.

  I barely stirred when the hammock moved some time later and when I woke up, I was alone.

  A few days later, I emerged from my house feeling as if I’d been through a war. Ian had knocked on my door twice, but I couldn’t bring myself to open it. As I walked down the steps to get to my Jeep, I saw him unload a handful of wood onto his deck, his eyes intent on me. “You’re better then?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Ian’s eyes lowered to my sandals. “I see you are still fond of those dreadful gold sandals, but they suit you.”

  I smiled at him and he back at me.

  “Oh, I remember you, puffer fish. And your tacky sandals.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Well, I’ll ignore that snarky comment, seeing as how you aren’t being a complete ass today.”

  In our short summer together, years ago, he’d poked fun at my sandals when I refused to take them off. As a six-year-old, I was convinced my few wardrobe staples in life would be my father’s Fruit of the Loom white T-shirts that fell below my knees, gold belt, and matching sandals. I had a thing for Greek mythology, especially Aphrodite and I hadn’t really grown out of it.

  I shrugged, looking down to admire my new sandals. “Some things don’t change.”

  “But some things do,” he said carefully, studying me closely in my spaghetti strap white sundress. The morning sun’s effect paled in comparison to the current of heat that swept through me as our eyes locked. Ian broke contact first, pulling a hammer from one of the bags on the porch. With the way he swung that hammer, I felt like I had my very own Greek deity, my own Sucellus in front of me.

  He paused his hammer briefly when I ripped my eyes away and moved to leave. “I apologize again,” he offered, a small smile on his freshly licked lips, “repeatedly.”

  “You’re forgiven,” I said, watching a drop of sweat from the tip of his chin drip down to his navel and disappear below his waistband. I’d never wanted to be a drop of sweat so much in my life. “I’m off to work. If you need anything…”

  “Koti, I’ll take it from here,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I lingered in hopes of more conversation, but Ian turned his back and grabbed a box of nails. “Have a good day.”

  “You too.”

  Inside my Jeep, I stared at the ocean that lay beyond our houses.

  Decades of life separated the two of us and I was more curious than ever of what his years held.

  Nine hours later, I came home to a ripped and colorful sky. I went straight from my Jeep to the rocky shore and put my aching feet in the water. I glanced over my shoulder to see the Kemp house was dark. It didn’t surprise me in the least. Ian was still struggling with his hurts and didn’t want to share them. Pain didn’t disappear overnight. He needed time. He had wounds to lick. Another few days of silence between our houses confirmed as much.

  SHE HAD TO BE THE most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life and that was saying much. I’d been on every continent and to places most human eyes had never seen and even the most exotic-looking women couldn’t hold a candle to her. It wasn’t just her soul-filled eyes, perfect face, or full lips, her body was every man’s dream—petite, toned, curves, day-long legs, and perfect feet. She was a wet dream and the kicker was, she had no knowledge of it or at least didn’t use it to her advantage. From what I could tell she hadn’t a clue of just how attractive she was. Holding her that day in the hammock, her pained cries had been agony for me. I ended up taking too many liberties with my fingers. I knew how soft the skin of her stomach was. I’d traced the curve of her hips and reveled in the way she fit inside my arms. After hours of studying her beautiful face partially covered by sun-bleached hair, I had to get the hell out of that hammock. I was there to comfort her and grew unbearably hard as the minutes passed. The need to touch her more intimately had my skin on fire. She was in a great deal of pain and though it bothered me to see her in such a state, I had no idea how holding her that way would affect me. And it had, so much so that I couldn’t stop fantasizing about her days after.

  I slammed the hammer down as I tried to reason with myself. She looked so beautiful this morning in that dress with freshly glossed lips. My first instinct was to close the space to rid her of it and smear that gloss with my lips and cock.

  I wanted her and that was dangerous. I was in no position to offer her anything at all. I simply wasn’t ready to begin to trust another woman after what Tara had done to the rest of our relationship. Though it wasn’t Koti’s fault, I was too angry, too bitter, too unsure of my feelings at that point that a friendship would be pushing it. What was worse, and from what I could tell, the attraction was mutual and she had no idea that just moments ago, I was seconds away from pushing any moral thoughts aside and ravaging her. I discarded the hammer on the porch and laced up my takkies. I needed to clear my head.

  Koti had zero place in my life, nor I in hers. I had absolutely no desire to start anything, whether it be sexual or more, with any woman. Keeping my distance would be the only way to avoid a disaster and I was good at that. She’d granted me the space I asked for. In an attempt to wipe thoughts of her away, I began to jog down the beach. I wasn’t a teenage boy, I could handle attraction. It was nothing more than appreciation for the beauty that she was. An entanglement of any sort with me would only hurt her. With distance, I could rid myself of the ache to touch her.

  I sped up as Koti’s lingering gaze flashed through my head.

  Fuck.

  “What in the fack? Koti!”

  I hid in my bedroom with repressed laughter as the puppy squealed with cries. As soon as I saw her, I knew who her rightful owner was. It wasn’t a man’s dog, by any means, but Ian needed a friend and since he was opposed to the human kind, I’d taken it upon myself to get him a suitable companion. As soon as I put her down on Ian’s porch in a box she couldn’t climb out of, she began to howl bloody murder.

  “Just look at her, Ian.” I urged in a whisper spying their first meet from my window. I heard the thwack of his back door and a brief pause of silence. I was sure they were staring at each other. More silence followed, before the boom of a loud knock on my door.

  “Koti!”

  The pooch whimpered in his arms, still traumatized for being a fifteen-minute orphan.

  “I’m not dressed,” I yelled from the safety of my bedroom.

  “Then get dressed!” he ordered.

  “I have to shower,” I called out toward the door before slipping into my bathroom.

  He knocked again ignoring my lies. I went and took an unneeded shower to give them a chance to bond. When I emerged from my room minutes later, all was silent. I peered through my living room window and saw no sign of either of them. Curious, I peeked out of my back door to see if the coast was clear.

  “I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” Ian said with a lifeless voice sitting on my wicker loveseat with the tiny puppy in his lap. He slid thick fingers through her fur while her pink tongue darted out and rewarded his other hand in kind. “But this is the last thing I need.”

  I squared off and stepped onto the porch. “I disagree. Everyone needs a best friend.”

  “I can’t take on this responsibility.” His tone was distant, cold, his head down as he stared at the nameless dog.

  I spoke up, far too uncomfortable with the pain that still radiated from him. “I was thinking Disco, for a name. She looks like a Disco, do
esn’t she?”

  “Koti,” there wasn’t an ounce of humor in his voice. Murky gray eyes trailed over my romper. For a flicker of a second, I had his attention and it felt way too rewarding.

  “Just give it a week, okay?”

  Ian stood from my love seat. Disco was dwarfed by his size, engulfed in his large hands. I inhaled his scent as he towered inches above me, his stubble had grown out slightly, but he never went more than a few days without shaving. In a little over a month, he’d settled nicely into the beach bum look. I was tempted to brush the unruly dark hair away from his brow. I felt inexplicably drawn to him while he stared at Disco as if she were going to speak. Rows of curly white and beige hair made up the most of her. She weighed no more than a few pounds. Her dark chocolate eyes stared back at him before she let out a squeak.

  I caught the subtle smile he tried to hide.

  Come on, Ian. Can’t you see she loves you already? She can give you a thousand of those smiles.

  I saw his decision before he spoke. “Again, I appreciate the gesture, but—”

  “I’m allergic.” Lie. “And I couldn’t bear to see her homeless.” Another lie. I’d paid a fortune for her.

  Ian studied me with ill-tempered eyes. It seemed he was immune to my bullshit.

  “No.”

  “Ye-es.” I said in a sing-song voice. “She won’t be any trouble. Besides you’ve already entertained a hyena.” I grinned cheekily.

  He looked confused until he realized I was talking about his booty call. “Cute.”

  “What was that hyena’s name again?”

  Ian rolled his eyes as he gripped Disco and brought her to his face. Nose to nose they assessed each other before she licked him.

  “You will get along famously,” I cooed, itching to run my fingers through her hair.

  Ian sighed and stretched Disco out in front of him. I began to scratch my arms as he held the puffy pooch toward me. “Sorry, can’t. I’ll break out in hives.”

  A moment of silence passed between us as we stared each other down in challenge.

  “Koti, don’t do this, okay? I don’t need the hassle.”

  “You need her and she’s helpless.”

  “Damnit, woman, just take her.” When I shook my head, a furious Ian left my porch and walked back to his house slamming the door behind him.

  Hours later in bed, I heard the puppy cry and cringed with every loud protest, afraid for her because of her temperamental new owner. Who would have thought a dog that little would have such an amazing vocal range? It may not have been the best idea, but it made him accountable for something besides himself. Disco had needs and he would have to meet them and maybe, just for a few minutes a day, it would distract him from that hurt.

  Another agonizing hour later, the dog kept two houses on Vista Lane awake.

  “Oh, for fack’s sake!”

  I withered in my bed as Ian’s growl drifted between our houses. And then all went quiet. She was sleeping with him. I was sure of it.

  Lucky bitch.

  The next morning, I slipped out the front door of my house and didn’t look back as I tore out of the driveway unable to face the wrath I was sure was coming to me. I was greeted by an equally sleep-deprived Jasmine as she walked through the door with two lattes.

  “Double shots,” she said, offering me my cup. I took it, grateful.

  “How’s the puppy?”

  “She’s adorable and very vocal.”

  “Oh, no. That bad? You’ve been looking forward to getting her for a month.” Jasmine laughed, studying my face. “Poor thing. You can bring her in tomorrow so we can keep her awake during the day.” She took a seat behind her cluttered desk. “I love dogs.”

  “Yeah, my mom never let me have one when I was a kid. She always said no puppies in the penthouse.”

  “You’ve never had a pet?”

  “Never.”

  “Well then, go get her now. You haven’t shut up about her, I want to meet her.”

  “I can’t.”

  Jasmine gave me a sideways glance. “Sure you can. I’ll watch her here.”

  I shrugged as I searched through the schedule. “She’s kind of in someone else’s custody.”

  Jasmine pushed away from her desk and crossed her arms. “You gave her away?!”

  “I loaned her out.”

  “To?”

  “Ian.”

  “Really?” A wide smile covered her face. “You’ve got it bad for him, don’t you?”

  “Not possible.”

  “Oh, it’s possible,” she piped.

  I sighed. “Jasmine, he’s in the middle of a crisis. The puppy will help. It’s no more than that. Maybe I’m just a little curious because, after a month of living next to him, he’s still a complete mystery.” Aside from the attraction I had for him, he was off-limits in every way. Emotionally unavailable and temperamental were far from on my wish list.

  “I’m a little attracted to him. But you know crazy attracts crazy.”

  “You aren’t crazy,” she said sharply. “You’re just a nervous nelly.”

  “I left New York and my career because I had a brush with death and now I have an instilled fear of dying. There’s a big difference between having a breakdown in Target over the pillow selection and cracking up on my level.”

  Jasmine jerked out of her chair. “You ass. I’ll have you know that breakdown was legit.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Target is the mecca of indecisiveness I’ll have you know. That breakdown on sheet sets was well warranted.”

  “Forgive me, I forgot it was sheets. I appreciate you trying to relate, but a breakdown about bed sheets pales in comparison.”

  “You haven’t had an episode in a few months though, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said thoughtfully. “It’s been a little over a month, but that’s a very long time for me.” I looked her over. “Sorry, I’m sure it was traumatizing for you in Target. I didn’t mean to be a jerk. I’m tired. I’m sure your breakdown was legit.”

  “It wasn’t legit, it was PMS.” She yawned. “I’m exhausted. I got no sleep because of Chris. He’s a sea captain and has a hooked penis.”

  I swallowed down my latte with a chuckle. “Oh? Do tell.”

  “And the man’s got a thing for Mexican women.”

  “Please tell me you didn’t—”

  “Oh, yes I did. Last night I was Maria Valdez. I even went as far as reciting some old high school Spanish.” She waggled her brows.

  “That’s wrong on so many levels.” I shook my head. “Seriously, you spend half your time correcting people on your ethnicity and you mean to tell me you changed it for curvy cocked Chris?”

  Jasmine wrinkled her nose. “Don’t say cock, that’s gross.”

  “And penis is clinical,” I chided.

  “Dick?” She offered as a middle ground.

  That time I wrinkled my nose. “Better, but to me, that describes more of a type of personality than the actual body part.”

  Loud laughter erupted from the door as Toby, our water deliveryman, stood holding our weekly five gallons on his shoulder. “Never a dull moment in here, huh ladies?”

  Jasmine didn’t miss a beat. “Hey, Toby, what do you call your penis in the heat of the moment?”

  I choked on a bite of bagel as he shook his head to ward off her question and switched the water bottles out.

  I spoke up glaring at Jasmine. “Sorry Toby, I apologize on her behalf. She was raised by Mrs. Valdez, who ran a brothel in Mexico.”

  “Har, har,” Jasmine snapped before narrowing her eyes at me. “And as far as that story goes, I grew up with my aunt in California who lived just over the border.” Jasmine walked over to where Toby stood and I cringed. “I’m serious. Toby, are you married?” Toby turned to us with his hands on his hips. He was stocky and a little taller than Jasmine but not by much. He had a teddy bear’s build and thick sandy blond hair. One side of his mouth lifted. “Married, no. And you r
eally want to know?”

  She nudged him with her shoulder. “Water cooler talk.” Toby and I shook our heads fighting a laugh before he assessed Jasmine with a thorough once-over. “Depends.”

  “On?” Jasmine’s voice was syrupy sweet, and I rolled my eyes at her as she looked on at Toby unashamed and entertained.

  “On how dirty the sex is,” Toby replied boldly.

  Jasmine’s dark eyes fixed on his lips as he spoke. “If it’s dirty…”

  Even I was leaning forward as Toby sucked all the air out of the room. “I mean if it’s really dirty…”

  “Yes?” we said in unison. He leaned over and began whispering in her ear. She nodded as she kept her playful brown eyes on me. My bagel became chalk in my mouth as the two whispered back and forth before I swallowed and demanded an answer. “Well?”

  Jasmine’s mouth dropped as he leaned in one last time and whispered to her suggestively before he gave me a departing wink and walked out the door.

  Her impossibly tan face turned crimson.

  “Well?”

  “It’s cock.”

  “One point, Koti. I told you.”

  “I think my breasts are sweating,” she said, fanning her boobs. “Did you feel the heat coming off of that one?”

  I was definitely feeling… something. “Is it weird that just made me hot?”

  Jasmine shook her head and we both laughed. “Babe, I would be worried about you if you weren’t. Phew,” she picked up one of our brochures and used it as a makeshift fan for her sweaty breasts. “Who knew the water boy had it in him? Then again that is the basis for good porn.”

  “You are something else you know that? Get a grip, Gersch. Your escapades have turned you into a pervert.”

  “Cock…” she practiced shaking her head and wrinkling her nose. “Cock.” She pushed her voice up a decibel. “Cock.” She looked over to me. “It sounds weird, right? In no way, does that sound sexy coming out of my mouth”