"Just have a lot to smile about," he said nonchalantly.
"Yeah? Me, too."
“That good, huh?”
I nodded and he laughed. I couldn't take my eyes off him. He was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. I fished the front door key out of my purse and fumbled around for the lock, never breaking eye contact with him. It seemed to take an eternity to open the front door and get both of us inside of the store.
Landon swept me up into his arms and brought his lips to mine in a passionate kiss before the door had barely clicked closed. He buried his face in my neck, dropping his lips to the sensitive skin, leaving me subject to his will.
"Last night was incredible," he whispered against me, the words breathed on my skin giving me goose bumps.
"Yes, yes it was." My head dropped back and my eyes closed, allowing his lips better access to my neck. I did not want him to stop...ever.
Landon kissed his way up my neck and sought out my lips once again. My mouth willingly opened for him. I wanted him to kiss me. I needed him to kiss me. It wasn't so much that I was out of control as it was that I was under his control.
So this was what it felt like? This was what I had been missing all this time.
His kisses left me breathless and I reluctantly pulled away, breaking our connection. As much as I would have loved to spend the entire morning in Landon's arms doing nothing but kissing him, we had a store to open and work to do.
"Morning." He beamed.
"And what a spectacular morning it is," I agreed, gazing at him dreamily.
"Everything go okay last night?" The mood between us changed ever so slightly.
"Yep. Derek was passed out when I got home and he had left before I woke up this morning."
"Good. I worried about you all night."
"All night, huh?" I asked suggestively and played with the collar of his shirt. "And the only thoughts you had were a concern about my well-being?"
He grinned, "Well, there were a few dirty thoughts mixed in with the worry, if I'm going to be honest."
"That's more like it," I proclaimed and kissed him again.
Several minutes later, our bodies intertwined and clothing disheveled, we leaned, panting up against the counter. His kisses made my pulse race and I realized I was going to have to stop kissing him...that was if I ever wanted to make a living again. I considered it a small victory that we were still completely clothed. I wanted him again, right there, in the front of the store, for the entire world to see.
"I suppose we should open up the store," I suggested, out of breath. "What do you think?"
"I guess." He shrugged his shoulders, teasing me. "I could think of a few other things I would rather be doing."
"Me, too." I smiled. "But, unfortunately, we can't live on love alone."
"Speak for yourself."
I reluctantly stepped out of his arms, walked over to turn the sign hanging in the door, and opened all the blinds letting the sunshine come in the windows. Yesterday's rain clouds had cleared out in the early morning hours and the sunlight glistened on all of the wet surfaces, making things almost too bright to look at.
As I stood there, looking out over the sunlit street, contemplating the events of the past twenty-four hours, I couldn't help but wonder… where was the guilt? Wasn't I supposed to feel guilty for loving a man who wasn't my husband? I’d cheated on Derek last night. Where was the lightning bolt, promised by my Sunday school teacher that was supposed to strike me down? I knew it was wrong — technically — but for the life of me, I couldn't find a way to feel bad about any of it. In fact, I’d never felt happier in my life than I was right now.
Landon walked up behind me and kissed me lightly on the neck. Caught off guard, I moved away quickly — just as Theresa walked by the front window of the store and gave me a wave.
My pulse raced. How much had she seen? I waved back and did my best to smile. Landon stood next to me — still too close — and lifted his hand towards her.
"We can't do that here," I scolded him. "Theresa could have seen us. Anyone might see us."
Did I feel guilty? No. Paranoid of my violent husband? Absolutely.
"Theresa didn’t see a thing. She’s just being nosy. No one can see in, Belle," Landon tried to reassure me, rubbing my shoulders gently. "Relax. I promise I’ll keep my distance."
He broke his promise, not once, not twice, but at least twenty times that morning. He brushed up against me as he walked by, stole a quick kiss behind a bookcase, or brushed my hair out of my face as I was organizing books.
Conversely, Derek would’ve probably come up behind me, slapped my butt, made some crack about its size, and then dry humped me.
By the time that noon rolled around, my senses were on overdrive, having Landon in such proximity but not being able to get my hands on him. I watched him closely. I could still feel him touching me, kissing me, moving inside of me.
I wanted his lips on me.
I wanted to feel his skin on me.
I wanted him.
I needed him.
Landon looked up and found me watching him.
I knew what he was thinking.
He knew what I was thinking.
We started to move towards one another, the anticipation of what we both wanted building between us. I passed the front door on my way to him and flipped the ‘open’ sign to read, ‘closed’. He reached up and with one swift movement closed the blinds, leaving us completely obscured from view.
He raised his eyebrows suggestively and I laughed softly.
Just as I reached for the lock on the door — seconds from being completely alone and free to be together again — the door opened. I had to jump out of the way just to avoid being knocked out.
Hannah.
"Well, hello," she said, looking at both of us, puzzled by the scenario she had just intruded upon. "Are we closed today?"
"No," I shot back. "But I was just closing up for lunch."
I turned away from Hannah, making sure she couldn’t see as I mouthed a silent apology to Landon. The look of desire in his eyes was priceless.
"Hannah, what are you doing here?" I asked her, more than a little annoyed. "We normally don't see you before one, at the earliest."
"Well, I’m going to be coming in before noon from now on. I decided yesterday that I wanted to start helping out more and pulling my weight around here."
"Peachy," I heard Landon mutter under his breath. He walked past me, and I followed him with my eyes as he made his way over to an already-organized bookshelf and began moving books around.
Hannah didn't even notice. How on earth could anyone fail to notice every move he made?
"What brought this on?" I asked, turning back toward her.
"Well, if you’re going to start a family, you aren't going to want to be here all hours of the day, right?"
Behind me, books hit the floor. I turned around only to find that Landon had his back to me, his face hidden from view. He picked up one of the books from the floor, contemplated it for just a moment and then slammed it into the shelf with a loud crack.
"Hey, Skippy," Hannah said to Landon. "Be careful with the books, would’ya?"
Landon didn't say a word, but he continued to pick the books up off the floor with much more control and quietly placed them back on the appropriate shelf.
"Listen, Hannah," I began, turning my attention back to her, "While I appreciate the gesture and while I would love to have you around here more, it won't really be necessary...if you know what I mean."
"I don't understand," she said. "After yesterday, I was sure… What happened? Did you have a fight with Derek?"
"Not really," I replied, unconsciously putting my hand to my lip. The swelling had come down all the way and the small cut was hidden. Whatever evidence remained, I’d covered with a little extra makeup this morning.
"Well then, what the hell happened?"
"Nothing." I shrugged my shoulders.
"What do
you mean, nothing? Yesterday you were so happy...so sure, of what you both wanted. About what Derek wanted."
"I know." I finally looked over at Landon and instantly regretted it. He looked like he’d just been punched in the stomach.
"So, what did he say last night?" Hannah asked, snapping her fingers to bring my attention back to her. "Is he going to get help? Save your marriage?"
"Um...no. Derek was same old Derek," I dragged my gaze back to her.
"What? Did you give him the tea?"
I shook my head. "I never got the chance. He was back to his old self last night. He brought his dad over for dinner, so they could talk about the Astoria job. He didn't want to have anything to do with me."
"I don't understand."
"That makes two of us. He claimed that he was drunk when he promised all that stuff."
The door of the back room clicked closed as Landon left the room.
"What an asshole!" Hannah proclaimed, seemingly oblivious to Landon's sudden absence. I, on the other hand, was acutely aware of his every movement.
"You got that right. Derek is a complete dick," I agreed, distracted by thoughts that did not at all concern my husband.
"What? You aren't going to defend him? You know… tell me how he’s so misunderstood and that load of other bullshit you usually try and feed me?"
"I'm done defending Derek." I said it more for Landon’s benefit than my sister’s, though I doubted he could hear me.
"Well, I don't want to say, 'I told you so.' But I suppose I don't need to, huh?"
"No, Hannah. You don't. You were completely right...about everything. I got way ahead of myself. I should’ve stopped and realized what an enormous joke it all was. As it turns out, the joke was on me."
"I am sorry, though, Belle. Really sorry." Her apology was genuine and made me feel a little bit better.
"Thanks, Hannah. But I'm really okay. Derek’s an imbecile and I'm done being the only one who’s trying to make our marriage work. My marriage is over."
"Good girl!"
"Thanks, Hannah."
"Speaking of good..." Hannah reached into her bag and pulled out a notebook.
It looked exactly like the notebook I kept under the cash register. The one I wrote in whenever I got the chance. I looked at the book in her hands and then over at the counter and then back to her hands…
"Hannah, what’s that?" Though, I already knew what it was. "How?" I asked her, confused.
"The other day when it was raining, I saw you through the window, writing, before I came in the store. So...when you went in the back to put the CD player away, I grabbed it and hid it in my purse."
"You… read it?" Again, another question to which I already knew the answer. Of course she’d read my deepest, most private thoughts.
She nodded sheepishly.
"You had no right," I accused.
"Don't be mad, Belle. The truth is I couldn't put it down. It's fantastic."
"And that's supposed to make it alright? You took my personal thoughts and you read them...what part of that is okay?"
"You left it in a drawer where either Landon or I could easily find it. What did you expect?"
"I expected you to respect my privacy! At the very least, ask!" I yelled at her.
"Fair enough. You're right. I should’ve asked."
"Well, thanks. For that at least." I was furious with her. It was as we were girls again and she snuck into my bedroom and read my diary. Back then, she had photocopied all of the pages that held sensitive information and blackmailed me for over a year, threatening to tell mom about everything I had done wrong in my life if I didn't do whatever she wanted. Hannah was different now, not any more mature, but she wasn't vindictive any more. Losing our mother had changed that about her, at least.
"No matter how I discovered it and whether or not I should have read it doesn't matter," she explained to me, matter-of-fact. "You’re an excellent writer, Belle. I had no idea how talented you are. I'm sorry I never noticed it before."
I stared at her incredulously.
"Belle," she continued, "You shouldn't be stuck in here selling books. You should be out there writing them." Hannah waved her hands toward the front door, as if by some miracle, the door would open and the literary world would just be outside waiting for me, welcoming me back into it.
But it didn't work like that.
"Well, isn't that fucking hypocritical," I spat back at her, frustrated with her tone and optimism. "Life advice from the woman who hasn't set foot outside the city limits of Cannon Beach for any length of time in her entire life."
"That was my choice, Belle. I belong here…you don’t. You don't want to be here."
"Don't tell me where I belong and don't you dare tell me what I want!"
"It's the truth and you know it," she said calmly. As I was getting more and more upset, the calmer she became. Why was she going all Zen on me this morning? I needed her to fight back. I needed her help me diffuse some of this anger.
"Let's talk about your choices for just a minute...or lack of choices, as I see it," I taunted her, wanting a reaction. "Why didn't you ever want to leave Cannon Beach?"
"I don't know what you mean. I like it here. As I said, I belong here. This is my home."
"Are you scared?"
"What? No! I’m not scared," she answered too quickly. I was pressing her buttons, getting to her. After 38 years, I knew exactly how to do it.
"What exactly are you hiding from Hannah?"
"Nothing!" she defended.
"I have my theories." When Hannah didn't respond, I continued, "This is where you feel powerful and adored...and in control. That big world out there has absolutely no idea who you are and quite frankly doesn't care. You can't handle that."
Hannah wasn’t reacting to my anger the way she usually did. She just shrugged. "Maybe. At least I'm not wasting my talent."
"Whatever. I'm not wasting anything."
"Yes you are. You know you are."
“What if I never had any talent to begin with?”
“Why do you doubt yourself? Who put those doubts in there?” Hannah pressed her finger to my temple. “Get him out of there.”
“I haven’t written anything in seven years, I mean, until the ramblings you read.”
“Which are very good,” she added.
“But you’re my sister, so you have to say that. It’s just that I’m a little scared that I’ll always be a bookseller and not a writer.”
Hannah leaned over and gave me a quick hug. “It’s never too late to be what you might have been.”
“Where did you hear that?” I asked.
“Why? Were you impressed?”
I laughed, my anger slipping away. “Yes, totally.”
“It’s on a bookmark by the cash register. I love you, baby Belle. I'm going to get out of your hair. Think about what I said, will you? You have a gift."
I watched her walk toward the front door. Before she left, she stopped, her hand on the knob, and leaned against the door for just a second.
Hannah turned back around and said, "It’s time to stop living in fear…of Derek, of failing, of letting Mom down. Mom wouldn’t want this life for you. She always wanted us to be happy. You know that. So…be happy." Then she walked through the door and was gone.
The tears blurred my vision. Could I really allow myself to hope again? To dream of happiness? That’s what writing was about to me — to write meant to hope. When I was blocked before, I would sit for hours and stare at a blank piece of paper, but as hard as I tried, as much as I wanted it, not one single word would come out. I never realized that it was because I had surrendered. I had no hopes, nothing worth dreaming about anymore.
I had given up.
Then Landon came and he had given me the simplest of gifts: a new dream.
Landon.
I locked the front door behind Hannah, leaning my head against it, preparing myself for his anger. He had a right to be hurt and I had to find a
way to make it better. He deserved an explanation at the very least. He also deserved an apology, however weak it was going to be. Both of which he would get from me. I cared for him too much to leave him hurting and frustrated.
"No time like the present," I reminded myself and made my way back to the storeroom. I found him, reorganizing boxes that were already in perfect order. The storeroom, in fact, had never looked better.
"Hi," I said softly, leaning against the doorframe. "It looks fantastic in here."
He didn't turn around. His shoulders sagged as though he was defeated.
"Is that why you were so upset last night?” He asked, eerily calm but with just the hint of sadness to his voice. “Because you wanted to save your marriage and Derek didn't? Is that why you and I...? Did you do that because you were trying to get back at him?"
I walked up behind him, put my hands on his shoulders, pressed my lips into his back, and shook my head. "It wasn't like that. One has absolutely nothing to do with the other."
He turned around. His expression revealed thinly veiled anger. He was mad at me. I should have been scared. Experience told me that anger meant violence, but I knew Landon would never hurt me.
"Are you just using me?"
“No!”
“Then why did you do it?”
"Landon, I’m not using you. I would never do that. You have to know that."
"I thought I did, Belle. Until I heard what Hannah said and it made me wonder why you made love to me last night. Would that have happened if you hadn't had a fight with Derek last night?"
I let out a sigh. "The truth is, Landon, if Derek and I hadn't had a fight last night, I would have never been outside of my house at that hour; but that doesn't change the fact that my fight with him had nothing to do with my decision to sleep with you. The only thing my fight with Derek did was open the door that brought us together. We could not have had one without the other. You can't question everything. Some things you simply have to accept as fate. Last night was fate."
"Really?" He asked, still needing reassurance. He deserved the entire explanation. It was the least I could do.
"Derek came home from Astoria Sunday night and said he wanted to make our marriage work. He's said things like that before and it never really amounted to much, but this time it felt different, so I took him at his word. I gave him seven years of my life, Landon. I decided that I could give him one more chance."
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