"Sorry." He pointed to his shirt that lay in a ball on the floor. "I got hot."
"Um...yeah...it's okay.” Surprising myself, I took a step toward him. "Did that hurt?” I reached out toward his back, looking for a distraction from my desire to jump him.
He looked over his shoulder to the tattoo. "At the time, it hurt like hell."
My fingers stopped just shy of making contact with his skin. If I touched him, it would take too much effort to stop. I didn't think my heart could take actual, physical contact with Landon.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"It's hot." I clamped a hand over my mouth, regretting the honest words as soon as they escaped my traitorous lips.
Think Belle! Think before you speak. Dammit!
He chuckled. "Thanks." Then he reached down, picked up his shirt, and pulled it effortlessly over his head.
"Anyway," I said, "I came back to find out...well, it's been a pretty slow morning...and I was thinking that maybe you might want to take a walk...with me."
Why was this so difficult?
"Sure," he answered enthusiastically.
I put out the ‘Be Back Soon’ sign, and Landon and I headed for the beach. We took the long way around. I steered him two blocks out of the way from the main walkway that passed by the grocer, just so that Theresa’s prying eyes wouldn’t see us from her vantage point at the market.
He walked far enough away from me that anyone else who might see us would think it was just a walk, but for me, it was anything but casual. He was close enough that I could just barely feel the heat radiating from his body. I could see the way the sun brought out the gold flecks in his eyes. I could even see the slightest growth of hair on his face. I found myself captivated. Was he even old enough to grow a beard?
I began to imagine what would happen if I reached out and touched his cheek. How would he react? Would I even know what to do next? It had been such a long time since I’d voluntarily touched another person. Earlier, in the storeroom, it took most of my willpower to keep my hands off him, but now I feared that if I did touch him, I wouldn’t be able to stop.
So instead of doing what I longed to do, I let him ramble on about the weather and the USC football team and other things while I got lost in my fantasies of how it would feel to kiss him, to have that soft stubble brush against my cheek. How incredible it would feel to have him kiss my neck, my shoulders, and lower...
Stop! Stop! I admonished myself.
I couldn’t think like that.
I could not allow myself to go down that path.
He was so much younger than I was. He had his whole life ahead of him.
What was I?
I was old. I was married. I was trapped. I had nothing to offer him except baggage and drama that would only drag him down.
We continued to walk up the beach. Landon seemed oblivious to the roller coaster of emotions I was riding.
I stole a glance up at him as we walked through the soft sand, waves crashing all around us, and I wondered for just a moment if he knew he was the only thing I had to look forward to anymore.
Did he have any idea that he was the only glimmer of happiness I had in my life?
We found a place off the beaten path to sit down for a bit on two smooth rocks planted deeply in the sand.
"Were you close to your mom? I mean...before...?" I couldn't quite finish the question. I didn't like to say the words. Neither did Landon.
A few days into working at Turning Point, Landon asked about the two photographs hanging above the front door. I told him about my father, how he had died before I was born, and revealed to him, briefly, the story of my mom's battle with cancer.
It was something we had in common, both of us losing our mothers. Something that devastating leaves its mark. Losing a parent is supposed to be part of the natural order. Logically, I realized that parents are expected to pass away before their children. But no part of losing my mom felt natural. She was too young; I was too young. It was cruel. Only another person who has lost a parent could truly understand.
I sat with my arms wrapped around my knees, which were pulled up to my chest, while Landon sat with his legs crossed on another rock. He leaned back casually on his elbows, and I was able to watch him surreptitiously. We both relaxed, looking out over the waves as we talked.
I tried not to look at him too much while he thought about what to say. The tangled mess of curls that escaped out the back of his baseball cap hypnotized me. I wanted to wrap my fingers in them, wondering what it felt like, smelled like.
"Get it under control, Belle!" I admonished myself and waited for his answer.
"Yes, my mom and I were extremely close. At least that's how I remember it. I was pretty young when she died.” He looked back at me, and I smiled weakly. There was no good response. A sad face portrayed pity, and that's not what he needed. "You were very lucky you got to know your mom," he added.
"I know," I said softly. "But I never met my father. He passed before I was born."
Landon cleared his throat, and I could tell he was searching for the right words. "My dad and I have a complicated relationship."
"I think I could probably keep up...I mean...if you want to explain."
"I'm not sure I even understand it. After it happened...after she was gone…he wasn't the same. Does that make sense?"
"Yes. Sure. He lost his wife. It's perfectly understandable."
"But I lost my mom and..." Landon's voice trailed off, and I knew there was more. "It's almost as if he couldn't understand how much we both lost."
We sat in silence for several minutes. Landon didn't elaborate any more on the relationship with his dad, and I didn't pry. I looked up into the sky and saw several kites, flown by people along the beach. On the weekends, the beach was usually covered with them.
"It's a beautiful day to fly a kite," I said, breaking the silence.
"Yes it is." Landon gazed in the same direction.
"What about your sister, Hannah? Are you two close?" Landon’s question brought me back to the beach, the sun, the warm rock, and him.
I laughed softly. "You witnessed our last interaction. Why don't you give me your opinion on that?"
He laughed too. "But all sisters fight Belle. It's part of the deal."
"Really? All sisters fight like that? And you have personal experience with sisters?"
"Some," he said quietly.
"Did you date sisters?" I teased him. "Because I can see how that might cause a fight." I laughed, and he tried to smile, never taking his eyes off the water. It was a fake smile, but I knew better. I saw beyond it. There was a deep sadness to his expression in that moment. His heart had been broken once. I knew the signs. Did it have something to do with dating sisters? Maybe he was dating one but had fallen in love with the other. Maybe he‘d lost them both.
Maybe it was none of my business…
For all my hypothesizing about Landon's love life, I knew I had said something wrong.
"What is it?" I nudged him gently.
He shook his head. "Nothing. Just remembering..."
"Anything you want to share with the class?"
"I was always pretty quiet in school," he responded in kind, dodging the question. He wasn't going to tell me — at least not yet.
"Fair enough."
"But about Hannah?" He changed the subject. "Really, what is her deal?"
"Let's see, what is there to say? What you see is what you get." I shrugged my shoulders.
"There's more to it," he pressed. "That much I do know."
"Oh, sure, peel an onion. There are a lot of layers."
"Do you have layers, Belle?" He asked softly, putting me on the spot. I was suddenly terribly nervous.
"We all have layers," I answered breathlessly. "But I thought we were talking about my sister...not me." It was my turn to dodge the question.
“True,” he acknowledged.
"Hannah needs to be adored, and the
center of attention...all of the time," I explained, although that much I figured he pretty much knew already. "If not, her world turns on its axis, and she just can't deal. It's been that way since we were kids. She has to be noticed. She’ll do almost anything to get attention. Even if...”
"What? Belle, even if...what?"
"Even if it's at the expense of others," I answered honestly.
He looked over at me for a moment, and I gave him a crooked smile. But he could see the person at whose expense Hannah's attention seeking cost the most was me.
"Huh." It was a statement, not a question.
"What does that mean?"
"I was just thinking,” he paused. "I was just wondering, when Hannah was getting all the attention...who was paying attention to you?"
“Are you sure you’re only twenty-five?” Landon was too insightful for his own good.
“Why?”
“Because, as Hannah would say, you’re an old soul.”
“I could say the same thing about you. So, are you going to answer me? Who pays attention to you, Belle?”
I lowered my gaze and shrugged my shoulders. "My mom used to call me her low-maintenance child. Hannah kept her pretty busy with her antics, and I think she was grateful that I didn't need as much of her time."
"Every kid needs time and attention...take it from me." He looked back at the ocean.
"Well, it is what it is," I said quietly, not wanting to pry.
"You say that a lot. Did you know that?"
"Well, there are a lot of things that I cannot change, and trying to change things that are out of my control only ends with me, beating my head against a brick wall. It's pointless to try to fight a force of nature like Hannah. She's pretty out there, but quite honestly, she's all the family I have."
"But you have a husband."
My heart dropped at the mention of the man I married. I did have a husband. Landon wasn't wrong about that. However, Derek wasn't my family — not in the true sense of the word.
"Derek is...um...complicated." I used his expression, hoping he would understand that just as he didn't want to talk about his father, I didn't want to talk about my husband.
Either he was oblivious, or he didn't care because Landon then asked, "What do you mean by complicated?"
Why couldn't we have talked about the weather, or the latest book in the store, or even what we had planned for the weekend?
Landon was waiting for a response. If I kept it basic, perhaps he wouldn't ask any more questions, and we could get out of this dangerous area of conversation.
"He has anger issues. Let’s just leave it at that.” It was as close as I was going to get to telling him or anyone the truth. ‘Anger issues’ could have a wide variety of interpretations, and it was good enough for the moment.
I said nothing further and Landon didn't press.
"What about your family?” I asked him, turning the tables. "Are you close? Any brothers or sisters?"
Landon shook his head. "Nope. It's just me and my dad, and you already know that we barely even speak."
"You don't really talk at all?"
"He hasn't really talked to me in years. He doesn't actually talk to anyone, though, so I don't take it too personally."
“You really haven't spoken in twenty-some years?"
"Not about anything that matters. He only speaks to me when it's required."
"I'm so sorry, Landon."
"Well, how did you put it? It is what it is?"
"Yes."
And that was the end of it.
There were so many other things I wanted to ask him. Had he ever been in love? How old was he when he had his first kiss? Who was his first girlfriend? All of the things you ask when you are getting to know someone. Everything I wanted to ask was incredibly inappropriate, and I wasn’t allowed to ask because...well...I went through the list one more time.
I was his boss.
I was much too old for him.
And... I was married.
But knowing that I shouldn't ask these things didn't stop me from wondering about them on an almost-constant basis
After several quiet minutes, Landon turned around to look at me again.
"What is it?" he asked me abruptly.
"What?" I asked him back, startled.
"You look like you want to say something."
"Well, so do you," I countered.
"If you want to ask me something, Belle, just ask."
I paused, trying to control my mouth. It didn't work. "I just wish I knew what you’re thinking. Sometimes, when you look at me, I can tell you want to say something, but you never do. Why?"
"Want to know what I want to say?" he asked quietly.
"Yes."
"Sometimes, I want to tell you that you’re beautiful, but I'm not supposed to say stuff like that. So I keep my mouth shut."
"You think I'm...?" I could barely whisper the words. No man had ever said I was beautiful before.
"Beautiful? Yes. In case you hadn't noticed, I have a slight thing for you."
I laughed, involuntarily. It was almost a shriek...like a crazy lady laugh.
"Why are you laughing at me?" he asked, obviously offended. "I just admitted that I have feelings for you and you’re laughing?
"I'm sorry, Landon. I'm not laughing at you. It's just the idea of you having a thing for me is so… absurd."
"Why is it absurd?"
"Look at you!" I raised my voice and glanced around quickly to see that we were still alone. "You're young and gorgeous and young. Way out of my league. I'm old...and well, I'm old. Let's leave it at that."
"Why is age such a big deal to you?"
"Easy for you to say. You're young. It will be a big deal to you when you’re my age."
"I don't think so," he huffed.
"I know so. Besides, you could have any girl you want."
"There's only one girl I want, but I can't have her, so I just imagine it...a lot." He shot me a wicked grin.
A young couple, walking up the beach hand-in-hand, approached us and interrupted our conversation. They said they were on their honeymoon and asked if we could take their picture in front of Haystack Rock. Landon volunteered and took several pictures while I sat back and watched. He chitchatted with the couple and directed them about a mile up the beach — a place mostly only locals knew about — where there was a secluded cove that was extremely romantic.
I watched them walk away…longing to be in love, to be desired. Landon returned to his perch next to me.
"You said you have a slight thing for me?" I asked wistfully, suddenly needing to hear him explain, "Yes, I do."
I contemplated his admission, "Only slight?"
Where did that come from? My traitorous mouth!
He chuckled. "Well, maybe more than slight, but don't hold it against me."
"But…why?"
"Why am I attracted to you?"
I nodded. So much for staying in the shallow end of the pool.
"You mean besides the fact that you're beautiful and smart and sexy?"
I rolled my eyes. "Seriously, what do you think about when you look at me?"
"Well, it’s true. I do think you’re gorgeous and sexy as hell, and I think about you almost every minute of every day," he paused. "But I also think you’re married and so I have to keep my distance and settle for just being your friend. I don’t necessarily feel like getting my ass kicked by your husband.” There was frustration in his voice, and he gave the answer he was forced to give. The correct answer. As if, in some alternate world, if he had the opportunity to answer differently, he would.
Just a friend. Having him as a friend would be amazing. I didn't have any friends. Why didn’t that feel like enough? Just the thought of Derek laying his hands on Landon…well, I couldn’t allow that to happen.
"Listen," he continued in a self-deprecating tone, "I must have missed the day when they handed out the handbook on why flirting with your married boss was a bad idea. Al
l I can tell you is that I have serious feelings for you and I don’t know what to do about them."
How could he just sit there, casually admit these things to me, and not try to do anything about them? How could he settle for that? And why was he the one being so mature about all of this? It was infuriating.
Well, I'm confused too, I almost yelled at him, wanting to shake him, but he didn't notice. I was upset. How had just a few questions and several carefully chosen words, made this day go from perfect to dreadful?
"We should get back to the store."
"Did I screw everything up?" he asked.
"No... Yes...I'm sorry, Landon. I just… need to go." The truth was I needed to get away from him and clear my head.
In my haste, I stood up too quickly and stumbled off the rock. Landon reacted quickly, reaching out to keep me from falling. He grabbed my arm just a bit too tightly, crushing my bruised flesh, and I cried out in pain. I yanked my arm away from him.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I snipped, rubbing my arm, putting on a brave face and willing my breathing to steady. "I ran into a door jamb the other night, and I guess I bruised my arm. Can we just go now?"
Landon nodded, taking me at my word. We both turned toward the store and walked back in silence. I wanted to say something. He opened his mouth, and took in a breath, as though he was about to say something too, but he never did.
What was there to say?
He admitted that he had feelings for me. That was huge. Of course I had feelings for him, but I certainly couldn't tell him that.
For him, it was most likely a clear case of misplaced gratitude.
For me, it was so much more.
So I stayed silent, as did Landon.
But as strange as it sounded, I wasn’t uncomfortable with the boy. I admitted, if only to myself, that I’d never felt more at ease with anyone else in my entire life. Even though, I couldn't tell him everything, Landon was the first person, since my mom that I had opened up to about anything.
It was nice just to walk with him. I was grateful for peace and quiet.
Unfortunately, that feeling of serenity vanished as we walked through the front door of Turning Point and found Hannah standing behind the counter.
Turning Point Page 10