by Sarah Morgan
Aiden, Aiden.
She slid her hands over his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin and the urgency of his mouth on hers. She could have kissed him all day. She could have kissed him for the rest of her days. If it felt this good why didn’t people spend all their time kissing?
His kiss grew bolder, and when he slid his mouth across her jaw, down her neck to her breast she didn’t push him away. She’d never actually had sex, even though most of her friends had. She’d come close, but then her mother had died and Izzy had found it impossible to connect with anyone. She’d felt isolated and alone. But she didn’t feel alone now. Not with Aiden kissing her, and telling her how beautiful she was and how much he cared for her.
I love you, Izzy, I love you.
And she squeezed her eyes shut because she wanted to believe him so badly, and because she wanted this to last forever.
She stroked him, explored him, feeling like a sex goddess as he moaned against her lips.
And just when she thought they might do it, right here and now in a field of daisies, he pulled away and drew in a ragged breath.
“We should—” He broke off, swore under his breath and raked his hand through his hair even though all that happened was that it flopped back exactly where it had been in the first place.
She grinned. “I love that your hair does that.” Her comment relieved some of the tension and he grinned back.
“Does what?”
“Falls into your eyes.”
He dropped his gaze to her mouth and then gave a groan and sprang to his feet. “I’m going swimming.” He sprinted away and she gave a choked laugh and sat up.
“Aiden! Wait.”
“I’ll see you in the water.”
“But it’s freezing.”
“I’m counting on it.” His words drifted back to her on the wind and she smiled and followed more slowly, dodging butterflies and bees as she headed back from the meadow to the shoreline.
He was already in the water when she joined him and they fooled around, splashed each other and then lay stretched out on the dock and let the droplets of water evaporate under the hot sun.
They laughed and talked, and at one point the thought crept into her head I wonder if this is how Flora makes my dad feel, and then she decided she didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t want to think that Flora might be a permanent fixture in their lives. For today she just wanted to think about herself and Aiden.
15
Flora
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jack held her hand as they followed the trail that led through the forest. He’d refused to take the path that led alongside the lake. “I knew your mother died, but I didn’t know how.”
Sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves. Apart from the occasional crack of a twig underfoot, their steps were silent, muffled by moss and vegetation.
Flora, used to the blare of car horns and sirens, found the peace calming.
“It’s not something I usually talk about.” But she’d just announced it in grand style at breakfast. She’d been almost as shocked as they were. Even Julia didn’t know the details of her mother’s death. So what had changed? How had she reached this point when a few weeks before she would have been so desperate to fit in and earn their approval she probably would have accepted Izzy’s invitation and climbed into the damn boat?
And it was Izzy herself who was indirectly responsible for the change. Her sharp words had slid into Flora like a knife, all the more lethal because there was an element of truth behind what was said. She did have trouble speaking up.
Her words had stayed with Flora through the rest of the evening and through a long and sleepless night. And it wasn’t only the words. In those few tense seconds before the teenager had yelled, Flora had seen vulnerability and gratitude. By stepping in and stepping up, Flora had made her feel a little less isolated and alone. And although the whole thing had blown up afterward, she’d still been left feeling a little closer to Izzy. She could see now that what their relationship needed wasn’t for her to make more effort, but for her to be more honest. No relationship was ever going to have depth unless you were honest.
And while it was true that the timing and delivery could have been better because the last thing she wanted was for Izzy to think she was sulking, the most important thing was that they now knew she hated water. There would be no more invitations to go kayaking or swimming. That was a relief, but it also felt good that they knew her a little better.
And she’d been touched when Clare had pulled her aside earlier and checked that she was okay, not in that stilted polite tone that she usually used but with genuine warmth and concern. It felt to Flora that Clare had seen her as an individual for the first time, and not just Becca’s replacement.
And now she wanted to forget about it and enjoy the silence, the fresh air and the feeling of Jack’s fingers tangled with hers.
Jack, however, wasn’t keen to be deflected. “Why wouldn’t you talk about it? Flora, this is huge. I want you to feel you can tell me anything and I’m worried you didn’t feel able to tell me this.”
She stopped walking. Depth. Honesty. That was what she wanted.
On impulse she fumbled in her bag and pulled out the photograph she carried with her everywhere. “This is my mother.”
He took the photograph from her, studying it closely. “You look like her. You have the same smile.”
“We were similar in many ways.”
“You’ve never shown me this before.”
“I’ve never shown anyone. You’re the first.”
“I—” His voice was roughened. “I’m glad you shared it with me.” He handed the photo back. “Do you want to share the rest? What happened?”
She never had before, but with Jack she wanted to share. She wanted him to really know her and how could he do that if she wasn’t honest? “We were at the beach. My mother loved to swim.” She wasn’t sure how to tell the story because it wasn’t one she’d told before. “She liked the feeling of weightlessness and freedom. She left me on the sand with a book. There was a family close by who said they’d watch me. I’ll be five minutes, she said, just five minutes.” The words started to come more easily. “She went into the water and swam out. She paused once to give me a wave, and then carried on swimming. That was the last time I saw her alive. They found her body the next day washed up on the next beach. They think she must have been caught in a riptide. That’s it really. For the time she was missing, I stayed with her friend and then the friend called my aunt and she came to get me.”
Jack rubbed his fingers across his forehead, opened his mouth to speak and then shook his head and pulled her into his arms. “Flora—” He held her tightly, pressing her against him in an effort to provide all the security she’d lost that day. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”
Her cheek was pressed against his shirt. She loved the way it felt, being held like this. “It was a long time ago. I don’t usually talk about. I never talk about it.”
“I’m glad you talked about it with me. I want to know. I want to know all of it.”
She could have stayed like this forever, but there were things she knew she had to say. “You don’t talk about Becca.”
“I talk about her all the time.”
“Only in relation to the girls.” She lifted her head and looked at him, trying to see the things he wasn’t saying. “You don’t tell me how you’re feeling.”
“I don’t need to.” He was tense. “I’m dealing with it.”
Alone.
“Jack—”
“I don’t want to talk about Becca. I want to talk about you. I wish you’d told me earlier that you were afraid of water.” He cupped her face and his hands were warm and firm. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have brought you here.”
Could she really blame him if he preferred to carry the weight instead of sharing? Hadn’t she done the same herself? Sharing took practice. Time. She was going to give him time.
&n
bsp; “I’m glad you brought me here. I like it.” She squinted as the sun beamed into her eyes, and he reached out and pulled her under the shadow of a tree.
“I brought you to a lake, Flora. A lake. You’re terrified of water, and you didn’t say anything until today. I don’t know what that says about you. I don’t understand why you’d come—”
“I came because—” I’m in love, she thought. She’d come because she was in love. And it was an emotion stronger, and bigger, than fear. She was in love with Jack, with Molly, maybe even a little with Izzy. Not the snarling, angry Izzy, but the Izzy she sensed lurked beneath. “I came because I like being with all of you. If we’d been staying on a houseboat, that might have been a little different.” She tried to make a joke, but he wasn’t smiling.
“Do you want to go home? I’ll take you home.” He leaned closer, watchful, monitoring her every mood. She’d never had anyone pay attention to her the way Jack did. It was a heady, dizzying feeling to know someone cared.
“Home to Lake Lodge?”
“Manhattan. Back to the city.”
“You’d do that?” She was touched, but even as she asked the question a part of her was thinking how much she’d miss the birds, the plants, the forest. As well as falling in love with Jack, she was falling in love with this place. She loved the mountains, or fells as they were called here. And although she didn’t intend to get her toes wet, she liked the way the lake looked when it sparkled under the morning sunshine, or turned red under the evening sunset. She enjoyed watching birds skim the surface, and was fascinated by the shifting colors and its changing moods.
“We can go back right now and pack. We’ll be on a flight tonight. Back in New York tomorrow if that’s what you want.”
“It isn’t what I want.” She was sure about that. “But thank you for thinking of it.”
He was offering to put her needs above everyone else’s. No one had done that since her mother died. Even she didn’t do it, although she was determined to change.
“It was a serious offer. You matter to me, Flora. You—” He broke off, changing the words he’d been about to speak. “I’m so bad at this. There’s so much I want to say.”
“Just say it Jack. Say it.”
“It isn’t just the words, it’s the timing.”
“Timing?”
He hesitated, nervous, and she discovered that hesitation could be sexier than blistering confidence or masculine swagger. To be this nervous meant it mattered to him.
“This whole vacation must have been so hard for you. There’s Izzy, and Clare—and more water than you probably ever wanted to see in one lifetime. If I’d known about your mother, I wouldn’t have pushed you to come.”
She had a feeling those weren’t the words he’d been on the edge of speaking.
“That would have been a shame, because I like it here. And I chose to come, Jack.” She’d come because she was excited by the possibilities opening up ahead of her. Tempted by a life that was different from the one she’d been living.
“You wouldn’t have said no.”
“Are you calling me a coward?”
“You?” He gave a faint smile. “You were like a lioness last night. When you went and stood next to Izzy I thought you were getting ready to savage me.”
She’d temporarily forgotten about the night before. “Are you angry about that?” She’d wondered. After the flash heat of it had cooled a little, she’d stood there slightly startled at the words that had emerged from her mouth and wondered if maybe she should take them back. Izzy was his daughter, not hers. His problem, not hers.
“How could I be angry?” He stroked his fingers over her cheek. “You told me what you thought. You spoke the truth. That’s the sort of relationship I want. I don’t want you to feel you need to walk on eggshells. Intimacy means trusting each other. Sharing.”
“I know you’re worried about Izzy.”
“I am, and last night I handled it badly. I should have been more relaxed about the whole thing.”
“You don’t want her to go to college?”
His smile twisted. “I’m not that relaxed. Let’s just say I’m willing to back off and hope she comes to that conclusion herself. I honestly just want what’s best for her, even if right now she doesn’t believe that. But enough of Izzy. I want to talk about us. You. Coming here must have been so hard. Why did you agree to it?”
“I came because—” The words jammed in her mouth. Honesty. Intimacy. “I came because I have feelings for you. Strong feelings. And I know you have the children to think of, and that you probably—”
“How strong?” He leaned closer, caging her, his body pressing hers back against the rough bark of the tree. “How strong are those feelings? I want to know.”
That confession had been scary enough, and he wanted more? He was asking her to reveal the depth of her feelings, to remove all the protection she’d layered around herself and make herself vulnerable. “They’re strong. And I know you probably don’t—”
“I’m in love with you, Flora. I’ve been in love with you for months.”
Something happened to her knees because suddenly they felt shaky. She felt a little dizzy.
The air was still, the only sound the flutter of a bird’s wing against leaves as it made a bid for freedom through the canopy of trees.
He had to be able to hear her heart hammering, surely?
“You—love me?” Those were the words he’d been nervous to say? She hadn’t thought it. She hadn’t dared think it. But she saw it in his eyes as he smiled down at her. The nervousness was still there, but now it was diluted by something else. Something that warmed every remaining frozen part of her.
“Are you asking for confirmation? How can you not know that?”
The list of reasons flew through her head.
Too soon. Too complicated. Becca. Izzy—
“You never—” Did he mean it? She didn’t trust it, but maybe that was because she wasn’t used to being handed something she wanted so badly. She wanted to gasp, and shriek and swing through the trees. “If that’s true, then why haven’t you said anything before now? Because of the children?”
“I wasn’t sure you were ready to hear it. You already told me that in every other relationship you end up not being yourself just to please the person you’re with. I didn’t want that. I wanted you to be yourself. To be you. And I know you, Flora. I know who you are. So be sure that when I say I love you, I mean it. I’m not in love with some fabricated version of yourself you decided would work well for us. I’m rambling.” He was deliciously flustered. “It might be nerves. Is this making any sense?”
“Yes.” She liked the fact that his words weren’t slick and practiced. It made it all the more believable, and she badly wanted to believe.
“I wanted you to feel comfortable being yourself with me. And wanted you to feel secure that you’d be loved no matter what.”
“You think you know me?”
“I do know you.” There was no sign of the nerves now, only confidence. “I love how creative you are, whether it’s with a pencil or a paintbrush, or the clothes you wear.”
“You like my clothes?”
“You dress as if every day is a party, and I love that.”
Flora thought about the white dress lying unworn in her suitcase.
She wasn’t Becca, but he wasn’t expecting her to be like Becca. He didn’t want that. He liked who she was. The white dress was going back.
He knew her. He loved her.
The rush of happiness was so intense it made her dizzy. And he was still talking.
“I love that you care so much about making people happy and yes, some of that comes from wanting to please people, and that isn’t always a good thing, but some of it is simply because you’re so damned caring and thoughtful. I’ve never met anyone like you before. You’re beautiful, inside and out.”
“Beautiful? Which part of me do you find beautiful?”
“All of y
ou. Your smile, your great legs—did I mention your legs?—but most of all your heart. You have the kindest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.” He lowered his head and kissed her. It was gentle, but she could feel the passion simmering beneath the surface. And she kissed him back, eyes closed, head dreaming.
He finally lifted his head, but just enough to allow him to speak. “I know this is complicated—that’s what I meant when I mentioned timing—I know it hasn’t been easy, particularly with Izzy. But we’ll figure it out. We’ll work through it. In time she will see this is the right thing, I’m sure of it.”
Flora thought about the flicker of connection she’d felt the night before. “I haven’t handled it well, either. She was right that I’ve been trying too hard. I need to be more myself.” No more games, she thought. Just honesty.
“Well at least then you’ll be less likely to rupture an Achilles tendon running in Brooklyn.” He brushed his fingers over her cheek. “I think you might be the bravest person I know. Not just because I invited you to stay near a lake, but because it meant spending time with my friends even though you don’t know them and in your mind you’re an outsider, which is your worst nightmare.”
“Jack—”
“Last night I should have stayed closer to you. I was so busy catching up with Todd, I didn’t think. You must have been so stressed.”
“I don’t need a minder, Jack.”
“How about someone who loves you? Do you need that?”
Yes, she needed that. She needed that more than anything. Her heart was full. Racing, and her mind along with it. No one had ever said these things to her, and the words were as seductive as the skilled brush of his mouth against hers and the knowing stroke of his hands.
This time neither of them pulled back. They’d waited so long. Too long.
She wrapped her arms round his neck and pulled his head to hers. She paused, her mouth a breath away from his, wanting to drag every least drop of pleasure from the delicious moment. She’d always been the same, thoughtful, patient, careful. She savored food. She savored flowers. Good things were never to be rushed in her opinion, and Jack was definitely a good thing.