Lady's Man

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Lady's Man Page 5

by Tanya Anne Crosby


  “I think loggerhead turtles have exactly the right idea,” he whispered.

  Annie’s brows collided.

  That wasn’t what she had expected to hear.

  “You do?”

  “Uh huh. They listen to their inner sonar and it leads them right back home … so they can make babies on this beautiful beach.” And with that, he dropped his head on her breast and went very, very still.

  After some time, Annie could hear his smooth easy breathing.

  It took her awhile to realize he was sleeping. She didn’t move. She just lay there, feeling his weight with every rise and fall of her breast while spectacular fireworks went off around them, lighting up the sky in a celebration of color.

  She slid her hand around his neck and felt the strong pulse of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips, and she sighed with the realization that at this moment, there was nowhere on earth she’d rather be.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The following morning Annie expected to find Jamie nursing a hangover, but he was gone early. So was his board. She surmised that he was out surfing, hangover and all. He’d drunk more wine than she had by far.

  It was the Fourth of July.

  The eleventh hour.

  As much as she enjoyed Jamie’s company, she was running out of time to do what she’d come to do and she really needed privacy in order to do it. She left Lady in her suite upstairs and wandered out to the dock where the dory remained grounded. It was a small boat, probably easy to handle and the river didn’t look all that scary. It certainly wasn’t deep.

  Life is all about risks, Annie.

  Her grandmother was worth it.

  Making sure the paddles were in the boat, she set the blue velvet satchel safely inside and maneuvered the boat into the water. She found the life jackets exactly where they’d discarded them. Trying to remember how Jamie had strapped her in, she put hers on and then very carefully got into the boat.

  Her mistakes were generally few and far between because she didn’t do much of anything without thinking it through, but when she did make them, she learned from them.

  Settling herself into the dory, she took the paddles and rowed herself downstream. She was gone maybe an hour and when she returned, she found Jamie pacing the dock.

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  Annie was startled at how angry he seemed. She didn’t intend to answer so flippantly, but she wasn’t ready to reveal her private affairs. “Sightseeing,” she replied with a smile. “Why?”

  “Do you understand how dangerous that was? You have no idea how to handle that boat!”

  Annie thought she had handled it just fine.

  It took her a little while to get the hang of the oars, but it wasn’t as though she’d had to deal with any real currents. Anytime the boat had begun to veer off course, a gentle shove to the shoreline had straightened her out. While he stood glaring at her, she carefully guided the boat up along side the dock.

  He didn’t bother waiting for her to show him how well she could do. He got down on his knees, reached out to grasp the side of the boat and jerked it close enough to strap a mooring line to it. Then he helped her out, yanking her up rather rudely.

  Annie clutched the blue satchel close so it wouldn’t fall into the river. “Damn it! Why are you so angry? I thought you were all about taking chances!”

  “I’m OK with me taking chances—not you! Does it make any difference to you at all that I’d feel like total shit if you wandered out into the channel and got yourself killed?”

  Annie didn’t think his anger was very rational. She raised her voice just a little. “Obviously, it wouldn’t have been your fault!”

  “It’s my damned boat, Annie! What the hell were you trying to prove anyway?”

  “You can stop talking to me like I am a child!” Annie shouted back at him. “I wasn’t trying to prove anything to you! I was trying to find a place to bury my grandmother!”

  His gaze shifted to the satchel in her hand and he took a visible step backward. He ran his hand through his hair in what appeared to be frustration and when he looked at her again the anger had vanished from his expression, replaced with some other emotion. “Jesus … look, I was just worried.”

  They stared at each other.

  Annie’s eyes stung although she wasn’t sure why. She’d stopped crying about her grandmother a very long time ago. God only knew, she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had looked at her so tenderly.

  “Ashes?”

  Annie nodded and swallowed hard, fighting back tears.

  He held out his arms and she went into them automatically, throwing her arms around him, burying her face into his chest.

  He patted her back gently, but that only seemed to make it worse. Annie began to sob in earnest. “I was going to do it right here from the dock! It didn’t feel right! The tide’s too low! I don’t want Gram pooling here! I want her to be free! The house was so perfect with a river view. I didn’t think I needed a boat!”

  He stroked her back. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know, Annie.”

  Annie held him tighter, grateful for his presence. It seemed every bit of emotion she’d held back since her grandmother’s death suddenly burst forth from some unknown well of sorrow.

  “I know a really amazing place,” he told her, stroking her back. “Will you let me share it with you?”

  Annie clung to him, soaking the front of his shirt with her tears, not wanting him to see her face. She cried until she couldn’t anymore.

  “Annie?”

  She nodded and he put a finger beneath her chin, lifting her face, forcing her to look up at him. She knew her nose was red. Her cheek was purple by now and her eyes were probably red as well. He bent to kiss her on her bruised cheek.

  “Your grandmother must have been an amazing woman to foster such a caring heart. I’m glad I met you, Annie Franklin.”

  Annie forced a smile and hiccupped. “I’m glad I met you too.”

  “Get in the boat,” he said.

  Tearstains still on her cheeks, Annie got back into the boat and sat patiently with her grandmother’s ashes in her lap while Jamie untied the mooring line and pushed off into the river.

  He took her to a beautiful, unspoiled island deep inside Folly’s winding wetlands, a place she would never have found on her own. They dragged the dory ashore and wandered just a short distance inland.

  “This way … I want to show you something,” he said, but said little more than that until they reached a little clearing where the view was breathtaking.

  Not a single man-made structure was visible on the island, and aside from a few earthwork structures that Jamie explained dated back to the Civil War, there were no signs humans had ever stepped foot here, despite that it was a stone’s throw from Folly.

  The first thing he showed her was an unhampered view of the Morris Island Lighthouse in the distance—a panoramic view that couldn’t have looked more postcard worthy if it had been staged.

  The second thing he showed her was a small weathered plaque on a nearby tree that wasn’t visible without brushing aside the overgrown grass. About three inches by three inches, it was made of some kind of metal and screwed to the tree. It read simply: James Arthur Heywood Jun 2 1921 - Sep 22 1989.

  Annie blinked and peered up at him, her heart tripping a beat.

  “My dad,” he explained. “It’s just a private memorial. They never found his body.”

  Annie stared at the plaque. “What happened?”

  “Hugo. At least that’s what we believe. He left a message for my mother that he was driving out and would meet her at my place in Raleigh the next morning. I don’t think he ever left Folly.”

  Annie shook her head. “Why would he do that?”

  Jamie sighed. “He was diagnosed with terminal cancer about a year before Hugo … his health was deteriorating. I don’t think he wanted mom to see him waste away. He wasn’t the sort of guy to put a gun to his head and Hugo o
ffered him an easy out. I think he wanted to make certain none of us came after him and I’m pretty sure he hid in the house and rode out the storm.”

  Annie didn’t know what to say.

  “Like I said … his body was never found. But this was my way of giving myself closure. I haven’t even been here since I had my private memorial … so you, see, I think I understand how you feel.”

  Annie’s eyes stung. “I’m honored you would share this place with my grandmother. She would have loved it here.”

  “You never know, Annie. Maybe this is exactly where your grandmother wanted to be. Sometimes, I believe the Universe steers us in the right direction ...”

  He reached out to place a hand behind her back. “Ready?”

  Annie nodded. Somehow, knowing that they shared this in common gave her the necessary strength. She chose a place not far from Jamie’s father’s tree and just as with a Band-Aid, she thought, no hesitation, she had to do it.

  Silence was their only prayer as she removed the urn from its satchel. Jamie stepped out of her way when she broke the sealed container. Her heart racing wildly, she closed her eyes and tossed the ashes into the air. When she opened her eyes, for just an instant, a cloud of gray seemed to congregate before her—a final farewell form—and then it dissipated, scattering into the wind.

  For a long moment, Annie just stared at the beauty of the wetlands, feeling acutely her grandmother’s presence.

  But the surprising thing was … she didn’t feel alone.

  She peered up at Jamie. He opened his arms and she went into them eagerly, holding him tightly. “I’ll make her a plaque,” he said soberly. “You can pick a tree.”

  Annie nodded and peered up at him. “Thank you, Jamie. Thank you for sharing your home and your vacation. Thank you for sharing the story about your father. Thank you for sharing his resting place with my grandmother. Thank you for everything!” She gave him a heartfelt squeeze.

  She couldn’t recall a single moment when she’d felt this close to another human being aside from her grandmother.

  He tightened his embrace protectively and Annie felt her eyes burn. “All I did was listen, Annie. When the Universe talks, I pay attention.” He bent his head close to hers and said quietly, “Funny thing is … the closer you listen, the more it seems to say.”

  Annie swallowed. For the third time, their lips were so close she could feel the heat emanating from them. Her heart beat a little faster. She lifted herself on tiptoes, daring to brush her lips against his. This time, he leaned in without hesitation, closing his warm mouth over hers, sliding his tongue between her lips. Annie accepted him, wanting him, needing him.

  In that meadow, with the warm breeze encircling them, the scent of the marsh surrounding them and the sun shining down on their shoulders, they shared the most tender, sweetest caress of the lips. All other kisses from her lifetime paled in comparison. It lasted for what seemed an eternity, and then she felt their parting acutely and decided that even an eternity in his arms wasn’t nearly long enough.

  Words caught in her throat.

  He gave her a gentle squeeze, put his arm around her shoulders and walked her back to the boat.

  That night, Annie awakened to the sound of rain pattering her window.

  That scent of sulfur she had come to associate with the salt marsh was pungent and strong. For the rest of her life she would associate that scent with her grandmother … with this place … with Jamie.

  The bed was empty and she could hear Lady whining at the door downstairs.

  Two more days before it was time go. She was shocked to realize how close she felt to a man who less than a week before had been a complete stranger. The thought of leaving him gave her strange pangs of regret.

  This moment, the image of her grandmother’s face in her mind was as palpable as the scent of the salt marsh.

  About a week before she’d died, her grandmother had held her hand, squeezed it and said, “I don’t regret anything, Annie! Not one thing! It’s true what they say … it’s never the things you did that haunt you most … it’s the things you didn’t do, but wish you had.”

  At the time, Annie had thought it was her grandmother’s way of reassuring her that she’d had a full life, that she was ready to go, but this instant, as she lay there listening to Lady’s insistent whines, it seemed more of a warning.

  For once, she listened to that inner voice and got up to go downstairs. Lady peered up at her guiltily as she descended the stairs in bare feet.

  “Traitor,” Annie whispered, but there was a smile in her voice. She opened the door and Lady peered up at her with a question in her eyes. “Go on,” she whispered conspiratorially.

  Lady didn’t need further encouragement. It was dark, but Annie didn’t need light to see where she had gone.

  The same place Annie was going now.

  Pushing open Jamie’s already cracked door, Annie watched for just a few seconds as Lady jumped into his bed. With his back to her, he scooted to give her room.

  Annie took a deep breath and followed Lady into the room.

  Jamie seemed to sense her presence. He turned groggily and sat up, peering through the shadows. “Annie?”

  “Is there room for one more?”

  He ran fingers sleepily through his hair. “Are you OK?”

  Annie wasn’t sure how to respond. “I think so. Maybe. I don’t know.”

  There was a long stretch of silence as he seemed to contemplate her request. “I’m not wearing clothes,” he said finally.

  Annie smiled privately. “We are in a clothing optional zone,” she allowed.

  He chuckled. “Right. Come on in.”

  She didn’t hesitate. She crawled over Lady to the other side of Jamie and laid her head down on his pillow, curling up next to him. “I needed a warm body and Lady abandoned me hours ago to pine over you at the bottom of the stairs.”

  He adjusted his covers and pulled them over both of them, drawing her closer. “I see … and any warm body will do?”

  Annie laughed softly. “Not quite.”

  “Good answer!” he said and she could hear the approval in his voice. “Is it your grandmother?”

  Annie slid an arm around his chest. “In a way.” But not really, and yet she couldn’t get the words out to tell him that it was more about him and the prospect of leaving Folly.

  It’s never the things you did that haunt you most …

  Rolling over, she kissed him firmly on the lips. He slid strong arms around her, kissing her back.

  Grunting in complaint, Lady jumped off the bed and found a quiet spot on the floor free from unwelcome nudges. She lay down with an exaggerated sigh.

  Jamie stroked Annie’s hair. “I think someone’s a little jealous.”

  “Too bad,” Annie said, emboldened by the moment. She slid a leg over his thighs and kissed him again, wanting nothing more than to make love to him.

  This time, he resisted her advance, placing a hand between her breasts and gently pushing her back. “Annie,” he said soberly. “That’s one way I never throw caution to the wind.”

  Confusion swirled through her head. “Are you telling me no?”

  His hand shifted slightly to the right, cupping her breast and Annie held her breath. But his words were not in tune with his actions. “I’m saying … maybe later. I’ve had my fill of one-night stands and I don’t want you to sleep with me just because we’re both here.”

  “Then why are you holding my breast in your hand?”

  He hesitated only a moment and said huskily, “Because I’m admiring perfection.” He kneaded gently, flicking his thumb across her nipple over her T-shirt and Annie moaned. Her skin burned, aching for more.

  She groaned, needing to feel him deep inside her. “Jamie,” she whispered seductively. “We might never have another chance …”

  He didn’t remove his hand from her breasts. In fact, he slid one hand behind her head and drew her head down, touching his lips to hers whil
e he caressed her breast. “In that case, we definitely shouldn’t do this …”

  Every inch of Annie’s body ached. Confusion and desire fogged her brain. She couldn’t remember the last time she needed a man to touch her, love her. “But the point of the journey is the journey itself, right?” This minute, she wanted only to feel her naked breasts against the heat of his body. Her heart beat painfully as she slid her hand over his chest, his belly and then cradled the proof of his desire in her hand. His mouth might be saying no, but his body was saying yes. Annie wasn’t above a little persuasion. She stroked him firmly. “Don’t you feel the need to use this?”

  She heard him swallow hard. “No.”

  “Liar,” she whispered feverishly, and kissed his chin, his cheek, his mouth, his nose …

  “Right now … I’m just enjoying the feel of your hand … and appreciating the mystery of what it feels like to be inside you.”

  She nibbled his ear, pressing her breasts more firmly against his hand and shifted so she was sitting astride him, undulating softly. She peered down at him coyly. “It doesn’t have to remain a mystery.”

  His body grew hard beneath her and his voice sounded a little more guttural when he finally answered. “Yes, it does.” He took her hand and slid it up to his chest, pinning it there. “Go to sleep, Annie.” Then he shifted her from atop him, making room for her at his side.

  Annie sighed and shuttered.

  Her body felt like it was on fire as she lay back upon the bed, feeling his strong heartbeat beneath her palm. Confusion wove cobwebs through her thoughts. She lay there trying to determine exactly what had happened and why he had rejected her. She had practically thrown herself at him, used all her powers of seduction. She knew he was attracted to her—the proof had been right there in her hand, thick and hard—and he wasn’t exactly shy.

  So why?

  Sleep eluded her … so did the answers.

  For the longest time, his heart continued to pound beneath her fingertips, unwavering in its tempo and then, as it slowed, she finally drifted to sleep.

 

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