Jess has finished her meal, and she sits back now, turning her glass in her fingers, watching me.
“Tell me about what you believe,” I say, and maybe deep down part of me hopes she can continue to comfort me the way she has done so far. I recall what she told me about the woman who helped her in Auckland. “You said that Maria introduced you to your faith?”
“That’s right.”
“You said she was a Wiccan. Is that what you call yourself?” I try to keep the skepticism out of my voice. I don’t know much about witches except for what I’ve seen on TV.
“No. All Wiccans are pagan, but not all pagans are Wiccans, just like not all Christians are Catholics. And I don’t know that I’d call myself pagan—or anything else, in fact. I don’t follow any hard-and-fast rules. Maria taught me that it was okay to pick and choose what I believed in, and I loved that freedom. That was what appealed to me most, that she didn’t say ‘This is what we believe, and you have to believe it too.’”
“I like the sound of her. I’d like to meet her one day.” As soon as the words are out, I realize that I’m implying we have a future. Jess meets my gaze for a moment, then looks down at her wine. I decide to sidestep the issue for now. “So what do you believe?” I ask her.
“I believe in balance. Everywhere we look, we see opposites—male and female, fire and ice, light and dark, night and day. Ying and yang, if you like. If there is a God, I don’t see why there wouldn’t be a Goddess too. But I’m not sure there is a creator in the sense that most people think about it.”
She leans forward now, and her eyes light up, shining their unique green-brown, holding me captive with their passion. “Quantum physics tells us we’re all vibrating on a molecular level. We’re all made up of energy. And energy cannot be destroyed. Therefore, when we die we just become a different form—our atoms go off into the atmosphere and become the rays of the sun, the rain that falls. They form new plants and trees, new babies in the womb, new stars in the sky. Night becomes day, summer turns to autumn turns to winter, plants die and then rise again in the spring. It’s all cyclical, and all balanced. That’s how I feel.” She smiles, and my spirits lift just to look at her.
“So you believe that Will is still around us, just in another form.”
“Absolutely. He’s in the wind and the rain, the sun and the clouds. He’s part of the storm that raged yesterday, and the sea that lashed on the shore. He’s with you, Rich, around you. How can you doubt that?” She looks puzzled, amused even, at my ignorance.
I stare at her for a long time. She returns my gaze evenly, maybe aware of the emotions twisting inside me like ribbons. Her eyes hold me captive, reassuring me that my fear is unfounded. I let her words sink into me like stones thrown into a lake.
When someone close to you dies, everyone comes out with platitudes, because that’s what you do in polite society. You can’t say to someone, Well I’m sorry, but I believe you’re never, ever going to see that person again so you’d better get used to it. Instead, we say, They’re still watching over you, and They’ll be waiting for you on the other side, and It gets easier with time, and other things that are meant with the best of intentions but somehow just feel cruel when you’re in the middle of your grief.
Jess, however, offers the first words of consolation in the four years since Will has gone that make some sense to me. She’s not trying to tell me that Will still exists somewhere in a form similar to that which he had when he was alive, and that when I die we’ll be together again the same way we were on Earth. She’s saying that his essence will live on because it cannot be destroyed, and that gives me more hope than any promises religion has tried to make to me since he passed away.
“Thank you,” I tell her, and I’m conscious that my voice is hoarse with emotion.
She tips her head to the side. “For what?”
“For being the first person to make sense in over four years.”
Her expression turns wry. “Now you’re mocking me.”
“I’m not. Somehow you managed to put into words what I needed to hear.” Her calm assurance, her sound faith, are like cool water extinguishing the flames of my fear.
She stares at me for a moment as if trying to work out if I mean it. When I don’t laugh, her frown lifts and her lips curve up. “I thought you would make fun of me,” she admits. “When I told Alastair what I believed, all he wanted to know was if I danced naked with other women.”
“I can see his point.”
“Rich!”
“He sounds like a fucking idiot,” I tell her honestly. “You’re well shot of him.”
“Yes, I am.” She looks defiant for a moment. Her gaze meets mine again, and suddenly, even though I’m sorry that she’s had a hard time, I feel fiercely thankful that Alastair was a prick and forced her to dump him.
The waiter appears to take away our plates, and he brings us a dessert menu. Jess chooses some of the Treats to Tempt You Christmas Pudding ice cream. I’m not normally a dessert kind of guy, but it’s my birthday, so I ask for the same.
“This will be the first festive food I’ve had for four years,” I tell her when the waiter leaves with our order.
“So I’ve helped you to rediscover Christmas?” She looks pleased.
“Maybe.” I finish off my wine. Man, it’s warm this evening. There’s not a breath of wind to stir the harbor water. Sweat runs down my back beneath my shirt. Jess’s face is glowing. If I were to touch my tongue to the base of her throat, it would probably taste salty. I make a mental note to try it later.
She chews her bottom lip, and I sense that she’s considering whether to say something.
“People are right when they say that time heals,” she says. “It might not have felt like it, but you have been healing over the last few years. You just had to give yourself permission to move on, and accept that it doesn’t mean you’re being disloyal.”
“I guess.”
“I’m sorry about Teddi,” she says, taking me by surprise.
I raise my eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
She takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry that she loved Will and not you. And I’m sorry that didn’t change when Will died.” Her hazel eyes are almost amber in the setting sun. If I stare hard enough, I can almost see her thoughts caught inside them.
I look out to sea for a long time.
“Sorry,” she whispers eventually. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
I bring my gaze back to her. “It’s okay.”
“Have I ruined everything?” She looks dismayed.
“Of course not.”
“It’s none of my business. I’m not trying to pretend I have any demands on you. I feel for you. Unrequited love is hard, and I can only imagine what you’ve been through.”
“It feels odd to talk about it, that’s all,” I admit. “I never told Stratton how I felt about his sister, and I never told Will or Teddi. I’ve kept it boxed up for so long, and it feels weird to have it out in the open, like dragging a trunk out of the attic that’s been there for generations and finally lifting the lid, you know? I’m not sure what’s going to fly out.”
Our dessert arrives, and for a moment we fall quiet as we sample the sweet, rich ice cream. I thought it would just have a Christmas pudding flavor, but to my delight it’s filled with chunks of real Christmas pudding. I can taste brandy-soaked sultanas, raisins, and cranberries, with what I suspect is freshly squeezed juice from Kerikeri oranges, in a broken-up pudding, all mixed in with a thick custard-style ice cream. Jess’s eyelids flutter as she eats it, and the last remnants of any awkwardness evaporate at the thought of kissing her again.
“Better than an orgasm?” I ask her.
Her eyes light up. “It comes a close second,” she says, then laughs at her unintentional pun.
I feel a sweep of affection for her, and suddenly I hope I haven’t hurt her feelings by talking about another woman. “Jess,” I tell her, “what I feel for Teddi, it’s complicated, b
ecause it’s been there for a long time, and it’s all knotted up with Will and his death. But it’s nothing to do with you. I don’t mean it’s none of your business, I mean that it’s not connected to how I feel about you, not at all. Does that make sense?”
She looks down at her bowl and picks out a cranberry with her spoon. “How do you feel about me?”
“Like I’ve been standing in shadow, and the sun has come out.” I’m not normally heavy on the romance, but the words come naturally to me.
She looks up and meets my gaze for a long while.
I don’t look away, hoping my eyes show how I feel.
Eventually, her lips curve up and her cheeks flush, and I know she understands.
I study her as she eats another spoonful of the ice cream. She bears my observation with a smile, running her tongue along her top lip to catch any errant crumbs. I shake my head.
“Thinking about your birthday present?” she asks.
“Yep.”
She chuckles and scrapes her spoon around the bowl, then places the spoon upside down in her mouth and sucks the remains of the ice cream off. “Me too.” She licks her lips, then gives me a hopeful smile. “You still want to… you know?”
“I do.” Heat surges through me at the thought of her going down on me, enclosing me in her warm mouth. “Perhaps we should go.”
“No coffee?”
“You want coffee?”
“No.” Her eyes are dark. She’s thinking about going to bed with me too.
“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you,” I tell her as we stand, but I’m very glad I met you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Jess
I wait for Rich to pay the bill, and then we walk back along the waterfront to the car.
Neither of us says much. Although he takes my hand, he seems distracted, caught up in his own thoughts.
I wonder if he’s thinking about Teddi. Despite his lovely comment about how he feels about me, he admitted tonight that he’d hoped Teddi would turn to him after his brother died, so I know he loves her.
A bitter taste floods my mouth, and I swallow and grimace. I really know how to pick ’em, don’t I? Why do I always choose men who are fixated on someone else?
But then I haven’t picked Rich, I remind myself. Not in that way. Our coming together was a chance event, a natural thing, like a freak typhoon that’s blown in and caught us up in its whirl. Did I really think it was going to lead to something permanent? We came together—literally—for sex and comfort. I didn’t sleep with him because I thought it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship—I wanted him, and he wanted me, and that’s about the sum of it. I can’t now stand here and bemoan the fact that I didn’t know he was in love with someone else.
Maria practices the energy healing method called Reiki, and she taught me the five Reiki principles—just for today do not worry, do not anger, be filled with gratitude, devote yourself to your work, and be kind to people. I liked the simplicity of these, and I also liked the notion of concentrating on today. I’ve done my best to practice this thinking since then, reading them aloud each morning, and doing my best especially not to worry—just for today. After all, what’s the point? It’s not as if worrying about it has any effect on the matter in question.
I glance up at Rich, conscious of a catch in my breath when I look at him, a stutter in my heart. Yes, this man has got to me more than I thought he would, and yes, I’m envious of this Teddi and his feelings for her. But she’s not here with him now—I am. I’ve got him for a few more days—do I really want to spoil it by being jealous and regretful?
I stop walking, and Rich stops too and turns and looks at me with surprise. I rest both hands on his chest, lift up on tiptoes, and press my lips to his.
Immediately, his arms come around me, and we exchange a long, lingering kiss. He tastes of Christmas pudding and wine, and I can smell the cinnamon notes of his aftershave he splashed onto his smooth jaw. He shaved for me. My lips curve under his, and he laughs and moves back.
“What was that for?” he murmurs, kissing my nose.
“Couldn’t wait until we got back.”
“Fair enough.” He kisses me again, his lips warm on mine, his tongue sliding sensually into my mouth and making my nipples tighten beneath my vest. My fingers skate over his crisp cotton shirt, across his shoulders, and down his arms to his hands. Our fingers interlink, and he tightens his, moving them behind my back so I’m imprisoned against him.
“Get out of that,” he says, nibbling my bottom lip.
“Maybe I don’t want to.” I think about him tying me up, taking his pleasure from me, and me being unable to do anything but lie there and take it, and I clench deep inside.
He lifts his head and surveys me, all humor gone now. “I still can’t believe my luck that you were staying next to me. What are the chances?”
“You don’t think this might have happened with any other girl who happened to be next door?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth I grit my teeth. I mustn’t push him to say this is special, because I’m certain I’m only going to be disappointed in his reaction.
But he tips his head to the side and releases one of my hands to cup my face. “Of course not.” He brushes my cheek with his thumb. “You’re one in a million, Jess. Whatever happens between us, I’ll always think of you as the girl who saved my life.”
Emotion rushes through me, and I blink hard to stop tears forming. “Oh.”
He smiles and kisses me again. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
I think about his choice of words as we get into his car and he heads back to Matauri Bay. The bach is hardly my home, and humans are often resistant to change, but it’s odd how quickly we can adapt when we must. It’s only been days, but already going back there with him does feel like going home. We’ll share his bed, or maybe mine, and make love, and fall asleep wrapped around each other, and for this one Christmas week it will be as if we are man and wife. There are people in the world who never get the chance to experience that. I have to be grateful that this man is choosing to share his time with me.
I thought he might put his foot down and tear back to the bay so he can get me into bed, but he drives leisurely, with one hand on the wheel and the other holding my hand, talking all the way, and I think that maybe he’s just enjoying being with me. He tells me about other birthdays when he was younger, escapades that he and Will got up to that drove their mother spare.
When he talks about his teens, he mentions Teddi and her brother, Stratton, a lot, and I begin to see the long history they have together, the roots of their relationship going much deeper than I thought. He talks about her with no resentment or emotion in his voice other than affection, and yet he all but admitted he was in love with her.
Is that why he’s never settled down with anyone else? He’s thirty-four today, and it’s unusual for a good-looking guy like him to be single at his age. Many people suffer from unrequited love, or fall in love with someone who might return their affection but who are tied to someone else, like Alastair, and it’s hard to get over, but most of us do, trying to put that relationship behind us so we can move on and find someone of our own. I’m not sure what the fact that Rich hasn’t been able to do that tells me about him. Maybe he’s so in love with Teddi that he can’t move past that, and maybe he still hopes she’ll come to love him, given enough time.
Or maybe he’s just not met the girl he’s supposed to be with yet.
I look out at the ocean, where the rising moon is reflected as a silver disk, and smile. It never hurts to dream.
Eventually, Rich pulls up outside the row of baches, and we get out of the car and walk toward the tiny houses. Without asking, I lead him to his, climbing the stairs to the deck.
It’s incredibly humid tonight, and it’s going to be hot and stuffy inside the bach. I glance along the beach. Further along, a few of the baches have people sitting outside, and there are several couples walking dogs, so we�
�re not going to be able to have a replay of the stormy night. But after he unlocks the front door, I pull him inside, leaving the door open so the fresh sea breeze blows across us as I push him up against the wall.
Outside, a night bird cries, sending a light blue orb dancing across the sky. I look at it briefly before returning my gaze to his.
His eyes have darkened, his pupils dilating, and I can see by the fast rise and fall of his chest and—more obviously—the impressive bulge in his jeans that he wants me.
Without further ado, I strip in front of him, pulling my vest over my head and pushing my skirt down my legs. I’m wearing a tiny pair of lace panties, and I leave them on as I press up close to him, slide my fingers into his hair, and pull his lips down to mine.
I kiss him hard, thrusting my tongue into his mouth, hungry for him, and Rich responds, resting his hands on my back and then sliding them down to my butt, tightening his fingers on the muscles there. I’m tempted to let him pick me up and take me into the bedroom, where he’ll be inside me in seconds. My body aches for release—I want this man, want him inside me, want to feel his urgent thrusts, to be the object of his desire. But it’s his birthday, and I’ve promised him a special treat—plus, I want to taste him.
I move back and unbutton his shirt, but leave it on, then lower my hands to his belt. Keeping my eyes on his, I unbuckle it, pop the button through the hole, and slide the zipper carefully over his erection. Rich’s lips part and his eyes turn sultry as I close my hand around him and stroke through his boxers. I know that men are turned on by what they see, and I intend to put on a show for him, so I run the tip of my tongue around my lips.
My New Year Fling: A Sexy Christmas Billionaire Romance (Love Comes Later Book 2) Page 11