Watching Fireflies

by Jaycee Ford

  It wasn’t a question, because I wasn’t going to give her the option. I had to feel her arms around me, and my arms around her. She stepped a little closer and whispered, “I’d like that.”

  The breath caught in my throat with her lips so close to mine. She bit her bottom lip, and it nearly drove me insane. With the need growing to kiss her, I took a hold of her hand, and I said, “Well, until then…” I gave her hand the smallest peck while staring into her eyes and pulled her hand back down, “Have a good night, Ms. Hawthorne.”

  The eye contact remained locked as I stepped away. With the click of the door knob, she stepped inside and said in quiet voice, “Thank you. Good night.”

  She scooted inside and closed the door behind her. The drumming in my chest played an unfamiliar beat, a mix of excitement and hopefulness. One confident step into this new territory, and I believed I was lost forever.

  AFTER TEACHING MY two morning classes, I decided to surprise my new friend at her boutique. As my feet crunched down the gravel drive of The Inn, it occurred to me that since it was afternoon, lunch sounded like a good way to get to know Ellie. Lunch would also give us a way to talk about her friend, someone I needed to find out more about, even though I knew this was way too soon. Across the street from Ellie’s Boutique stood the café where Tom and I had had coffee just the night before. I exhaled a calming breath and an unhelpful smirk rose up my face. I shook my head in disbelief over the rush I was having because of this man. I hurried my steps, strutting down the cobblestone street and stepping up onto the paved sidewalk.

  When I reached the café, the welcoming aroma of coffee and vanilla soothed me, but the late summer heat had me yearning for something cool in hopes of keeping the sweat from dripping down my face. After glancing at the menu written on a big board with different colors of chalk, I ordered two chef salads with ranch dressing to go, paid the bill, and stepped aside so the next patron could order. I looked around the sleek, modern café in the daylight. It seemed almost out of place in the middle of the country, but it was comfortable for the lifestyle I had been accustomed to. The front and side walls were mostly filled by windows, with the afternoon sun hidden behind shades. The back wall housed the counter where customers placed takeout orders. Waitresses would serve anyone who sat at one of the wooden dining tables or overstuffed chairs in various deep colors of purple, wine, and chocolate. The far wall was the main focal point of the café. Bookshelves made of dark walnut lined it from floor to ceiling and from the front to the back of the café. The shelves were stacked with books upon books. I would have to make use of those bookshelves one day.

  As I turned around, checking out the place in the daylight, the quiet corner I had shared with Tom came into view. There was no getting that cowboy out of my mind. I thought about him more than I ought to, especially considering the position I was in emotionally and professionally. It was unhealthy, I was sure, but the look he had in his eyes last night urged me to think about him even more and to not dwell on the consequences. A brown paper bag appeared in front of me, snapping me out of my continuously unhealthy thoughts about the cowboy and the consequences he would surely bring. I grabbed the handle of the bag and exited the café into the heat of summer.

  As I crossed the quiet cobblestone street, I turned my head toward the sounds of hammering on Main Street. My heels clicked to a halt when my eyes feasted on at least twelve men assembling what appeared to be a wooden dance floor. Another man joined the group, adding even more to the jaw-dropping view. The tight fitted jeans and T-shirt hugged his physique, making my hands twitch with need. When those blue eyes shifted toward me, the power of his stare almost made me drop my lunch. The sound of a car horn snapped me back into reality and I scurried across the street.

  Without a look back at the Greek god cowboy and his minions, I swung open the door of the boutique to welcoming country music and crisp air conditioning. A quick look around the store, and I didn’t see Ellie anywhere in sight. I walked to the counter, and as I set the salads on top, the hum of a sewing machine rumbled from the back of the boutique. I followed the hum and found Ellie hunched over her work. Her hair was thrown up on the top of her head in a tousled knot, her eyes were baggy, and she looked as if she slept in her clothes from the day before. When she noticed me walk in, her head twitched up from her zone, and a tired smile brightened her face as she turned off the sewing machine.

  “I brought you a salad, but from the looks of it, I should have brought you some coffee. Have you slept in the past forty-eight hours?”

  Ellie rolled her eyes, and with added sarcasm, she replied, “No, I was working.” Her face lit up in a sleep deprived smile, and she continued, “You just gave me an idea about a new design angle, and my mind has been in overdrive. Come see what I’ve got, and then we can eat lunch.”

  As she grabbed my forearm, pulling me with her to a rack full of clothes, I could feel the caffeine pulsing through her jittery fingers. After dragging me through the organized chaos of random fabrics, she released my arm and rose up on her tip toes, reaching for a hanger. The excited smile colored her voice as she enthused, “I’ve got just the outfit for the fest tomorrow night.” She pulled out a rich orange one-shouldered dress that fit tight across the chest, flared out at the hips, and fell to just above the knee. It looked simple and casual, but elegant all at once. “This line is a mix of the city and country flair. It just hit me while we were having lunch the other day talking about clothes. It’s a perfect marriage between the two, the casualness of the country with the sleekness of the city.”

  “Ellie, this is really pretty. I love this color,” I said as I glided my hand down the dress, feeling its texture.

  While the dress was still in my grasp, she walked over to her work station and pulled out a pair of cowboy boots from underneath the table. She lifted them up and said, “Here you go. You have an outfit for the fest. You might even wrangle a cowboy.” She gave me a wink that didn’t even begin to be subtle.

  I eyed her suspiciously and blurted, “Okay, Ellie. Spill it.”

  She twitched her mouth, trying to repress a smile, but then she admitted, “Err… I know about you and Mr. Coffee. This town isn’t that big, you know.” She finally released her smile and asked, “So, how did it go?”

  Not willing to dish out all of the information just yet, I replied, “It was fine. Did you know he’s my student, too?”

  “I did find out about that yesterday…” She tucked her bottom lip in between her teeth as if she wanted to say more. Without being able to keep it in, she blurted out, “And I know about the tub incident!”

  My eyes popped in disbelief, and shaking my head, I said, “Damn, how small is this town?!”

  Ellie waved her hands erratically and said, “No, don’t worry. Paul told me. The whole town doesn’t know. At least I hope not.” She shrugged her shoulders and added, “But Lance knows, too, so you never know.”

  “I don’t even know Lance and Paul!” I perked up when I realized the connection. “Wait, if you know about the tub incident”—I cringed at the term—“from Paul, then Paul knows from Tom. Has he been talking about me?”

  Ellie just grinned and nodded. My heart thumped in my chest. I bit my lip knowing that this wasn’t good. It would only end badly. I had only been single for a few months, and I was still getting text messages from an ex, which I kept deleting, obviously. This situation seemed so easy to fall into, and I didn’t trust myself around it. Ellie knew my reasons for fleeing the city, but she seemed to think that a person needed someone to help get over someone else. I wasn’t so sure my heart could take it.

  “Look, Jordan, I know you had a bad breakup and all, but Tom is a really great guy. He doesn’t normally date much, so there really wouldn’t be any awkward situations with an ex. Well, except maybe Angela because she’s not so bright,” Ellie rambled.

  My defense mechanism heightened, and I asked, “Who’s Angela?”

  Ellie’s head fell back, and after a spurt o
f amused laughter, she said, “No one to be worried about. Let’s just say Tom had one too many at a bachelor party a few years ago, and the girl thinks she still has a shot.” Ellie shook her head as she continued, “Bless her heart. She really is clueless.”

  Ellie lead me back to the front of her store as reality overtook the possibilities. I slumped in my chair and propped up my elbow on my knee, resting my chin on my hand. “I just don’t know how long I’ll be staying here, Ellie. I might be leaving after this semester. I don’t know if I should or could take on anything serious.”

  We prepared our salads, and as I dug in mine, I glanced up at Ellie. She smirked. I paused with a forkful of lettuce halfway to my mouth, and asked, “What?”

  With a slight eye roll, she said, “Jordan, it’s not like you’re marrying the guy. I mean what’s a roll or two in the hay!”

  “Ellie, I—”

  “Jordan, just live a little.” She smiled and added, “Oh, and Tom loves that color orange.”

  The only comeback I had was to throw a crouton at her as we both sat back and cackled.

  After a few hours of mindless chit chat with Ellie, I got ready to leave her sweatshop. I made her promise to get some sleep tonight—I didn’t want my newfound friend getting sick or keeling over from exhaustion—then I made my way back to The Inn. Ellie was the polar opposite of Katherine, but she was also someone I could consider a long-term friend. It was nice to have a friend close by since everyone else I knew lived a few hours away. And, hopefully, a certain person would stay those few hours away.

  As I was walking down the street and digging for the room key in my bag, the thought of Ryan being just those few hours away bubbled up from my subconscious and my shoulders tensed all over again. I felt sure someone was watching me. Continuing my walk to The Inn, I dug faster through my purse, but it was no use. I stopped to search more carefully inside it, and while I battled the wind blowing my hair around, I cursed myself for not keeping the massive bag cleaner.

  As I dug and dug, my senses alerted me of someone approaching. My eyes flickered up as I froze in place.

  “Howdy, ma’am.”

  A gasp escaped me as the voice whispered in my ear, mixing with the howling wind. Fear and adrenaline surged through me. I was right—it had been Ryan on the road! I jerked around to find a Greek god of a cowboy only a few inches away from my face. I let out a sigh of relief, and while my hand brushed over his tight, muscular chest, I said, “Tom! You scared me!”

  My eyes rose from his chest to his face. He wore the sweetest smile. I felt at peace with him. I didn’t know why I was so willing to let my guard down around him. Hadn’t Ryan taught me enough about how men use women? But somehow, when I was with Tom, all those horrible memories faded away, and there was nothing left but the two of us, here and now.

  “Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself. Are you headed back to The Inn?”

  “Yes, but I think I left my key in my room. That’s what I was looking for when you decided to scare the hell out of me.” I couldn’t help playfully swatting his chest again. He placed his hand on the small of my back, leading me back toward The Inn. My skin tingled from his touch. My heart fluttered from the anticipation that spread throughout my body.

  “I can get you into your room. I have a master key. Remember, I’m the plumber.”

  When I glanced up at him, he winked, turning my cheeks a brighter shade of pink. I turned my head forward in hopes that he wouldn’t see.

  “Well, what are you doing down here in town? Don’t you have stuff to farm or something?”

  He laughed a deep, husky chuckle. I couldn’t help but watch his face light up.

  “Stuff to farm? I like that. Never heard it put that way. Actually, I was finishing up with the festival setup for tomorrow night, taking extra special care of a certain area where I hope you’ll be spending some time with me.”

  My face lifted into a knowing smirk, and I asked, “And what area would that be, Tom?”

  “The dance floor, of course. Get your mind out of the gutter, Ms. Hawthorne.” He grabbed the door handle for The Inn and opened it for me to enter. Maybe one day I would be immune to his southern charm and would no longer blush at every little thing he said or did, but in all honesty, I doubted it.

  As we entered the foyer, I didn’t see Aunt Ethel by the counter, but Chef Al singing in the kitchen filtered through the dining room. I walked through the foyer and up the stairs with Tom right behind me. When we reached my suite, I stood out of the way so he could unlock it. With a click, it unlocked, and he pushed the door open for me. I glided past him, and the part of my skin that touched him tingled as the electricity popped between us. I stood inside the doorway, turning around, and hesitated in deciding my next move.

  “Thank you, Tom.”

  His charming smile lit up his face, making my knees almost turn to jelly. “It was my pleasure.”

  He backed away to head downstairs when an uncontrollable urge came over me. I no longer hesitated. I didn’t want him to go. As soon as he took the first step down the stairs, I asked, “Would you like come in for a beer or something?”

  He paused, and his head turned back toward me. His cheeks twitched like he was trying to contain a smile, but with his face still gleaming, he answered, “Yes, I would like that a lot.”

  Tom brushed passed me as I held open the door for him, and I could smell a hint of sun and something else I couldn’t describe. Maybe it was the scent of a cowboy. With the scent lingering and my body completely tingling, I walked to the mini fridge encased inside a wooden cabinet underneath the flat screen, and I grabbed two bottles of beer.

  “Is light okay? That’s all I have in my fridge.”

  As I turned around, my clutched fists landed against his ripped, rock hard abs. My eyes leveled just above his chest and I bit the inside of my lip. I dragged my gaze up to his piercing blue eyes, and I forgot to breathe.

  “Jordan …”

  His hand caressed my cheek while his gaze flickered between my eyes and my lips. My heart fluttered as it drummed an anxiously hopeful beat. What was happening between us was inevitable, and there was no stopping the inevitable. Our breath intertwined just as his lips brushed against mine. My body almost lost all will to function as it hummed with need. His eyes found mine again as if seeking permission to continue. I wasn’t about to stop him. He leaned into me once again. I responded with a passion, a hunger.

  My arms wrapped around his neck, dropping the bottles of beer onto the rug-covered floor. He pulled me flush against his body, and my fingers instinctively laced through his brown hair. My tongue swept against his lower lip; his gently massaged mine. The arms that wrapped around me engulfed me in a heaven that I never wanted to leave. My inner desires pooled within as a moan rose up, but I didn’t know if it came from him or me.

  As much as I didn’t want to, I broke the kiss, and as we both inhaled deeply, he rested his forehead against mine and whispered, “Did you feel that?”

  My body strummed with desire as my heart thumped an erratic beat. I exhaled slowly as my eyes remained closed, and I whispered, “Yes.”

  His lips skimmed across mine again while his hands slid around to my hips. As we ended our kiss, my eyes flickered open to find his full and bright. His mouth fought against a smile, but his cheeks quirked, giving him away. As the smile finally eased up his cheeks, he asked in a whisper, “Will you have dinner with me?”

  A nod was the only answer I could give. If I had anything left of a heart, I would be in love. I made sure I had my room key and we started down the stairs. As we walked, I asked, “Where are we going?”

  We arrived in the foyer, and as he cracked that sexy smile of his, he said, “Not far,” and he led me into the dining room.

  “Ciao, Bella,” echoed Chef Al in his best Italian North Carolina country accent.

  “Hey, Uncle Al. What’s your special this evening?” Tom asked as Chef Al led us to one of the tables in the corner. There weren’t too m
any guests dining tonight, so we were practically alone, which was perfectly okay with me. We sat next to each other while the chef poured us each a glass of wine, and he read off the evening’s specials.

  “Tonight we are serving Caesar salad to start, followed by Chicken Marsala, which is served with linguini in a light mushroom cream sauce.”

  “That sounds amazing. Thank you, Chef Al.”

  Breakfast at The Inn was a Southerner’s dream with grits and country ham, biscuits and gravy, eggs any way you like them, but dinner seemed to be a whole different game with Chef Al.

  Chef Al went back into the kitchen while we sipped on our wine. The sound of Italian music played subtly in the background. The perfection of this night seemed unbelievable. I looked down at my lap in hopes I could calm the giddiness jumping inside. As I twirled the stem of the wine glass, his fingers brushed gently across my knuckles; I bit my lip to keep from grinning too big.

  “Well, Ms. Hawthorne, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  “What’s wrong, Tom?” I asked while placing my hand unknowingly on his thigh. I flinched when I realized what I’d done, but when his sexy smile eased up his face, I didn’t move my hand away. I really didn’t care to. He leaned in closer and said, “I won’t be able to call you Ms. Hawthorne any longer, because I have to drop out of your class.”

  “Oh,” I said as I removed my hand and placed it back on the stem of my wine glass. My heart sunk a little; although, Tom’s presence in my class was a little distracting. “That’s too bad. Have too much going on at the farm or something?”

  His hand brushed mine, and he pulled my hand away from the glass; I looked up into his eyes. He leaned in closer and whispered, “I just don’t think it’s very wise of me to be taking a class from a teacher that I have a major crush on.”

  While his fingers continued to brush against mine, he added, “I know I would fail when all I would be thinking about is how perfect your lips feel against mine, and how I so badly want to do that now.”