by Dylan Allen
I stare at the moisture on my fingers in confusion for a few minutes before I realize there’s more running down my face.
I haven’t cried since the night I found out my husband had made a mockery of my entire existence. Before that was five years prior when my grandfather died.
Nothing had ever hurt as much as those things had, not before or since. But to hear myself cast like that and to know that there were some truths laced in with the ugly accusations she made. My eyes fall on the small box that we brought Jack’s ashes in. Oh my God, my best friend is dead and the other one might as well be.
My emotions, so long pushed down, ignored, smothered swirl inside of me like a thousand tornadoes looking for a way out. They are tearing me up inside, but I don’t know how to free them.
The door to my suite opens and I spin around, wide eyed with fear that Marcel is here.
“Hey, I used my key…” Stone trails off in mid-sentence when he sees me. “What happened?” He glances over her shoulder and then moves into the suite, his eyes scanning the room.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. So, I reach out and in the space of two breaths, his warm hand is gripping mine.
“I’ve got you.” He wraps a strong arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him. I nestle into the warm, clean smelling sanctuary of his chest and cling to him
“It’s okay. Let it all out, and when you’re done, I’ll be here. You won’t have to do it alone,” Those words are an echo in time. So is the absolute comfort I feel letting my guard down with him.
I’ve never felt delicate—not once in my whole life—until this man made me his lover. He’s strong enough for both of us. So safe in the harbor of his arms, I let the storm raging inside of me loose.
Come With Me
Stone
Regan isn’t crying. She is grieving. Her sobs are laments punctuated by hiccups, and sniffles. Her fingers clutch the front of my shirt. Her hot tears soak through the cotton, and she trembles like she’s freezing.
I was sixteen when she got married. I hoped she’d be miserable. But, the man I am today hates to think that she has been. I’m glad I took the gamble and came up when I did.
I’ve never seen anyone pale as fast as she did when she heard that voice on the elevator speakers. She looked like her life had flashed in front of her eyes. She said she’d call me, but I knew she wouldn’t.
If I was going to see her again, I’d have to make it happen. I went to the bar to weigh my options.
I’d be off on my road trip in the morning and would likely not see her again. But… she was so ready on the elevator. I could smell it on her. She wants me as much as I want her.
When I went to settle my tab, I found her keycard in my wallet. It felt like a sign.
I passed her friend in the hallway and the wrathful expression on her tear streaked face gave me pause. If Regan was y as angry as her friend looked, then this would likely be a short visit.
I opened the door slowly, expecting to find Regan in a lather. Instead, she stood in the middle of the room, her eyes full of regret, her trembling mouth moving wordlessly. She looked like someone dropped a bomb on her.
I carried her to the couch and we’ve been sitting with her in my lap, crying like someone died.
Her crying subsides to soft sniffles. I run a light hand down her back and brave a question.“What happened?”
She sighs wearily, like the weight of the world is on her shoulders, “Matty and I had a fight. Nothing new,”
“Are you on vacation together?” I picked up on a touch of tension between them on the shuttle.
“We were here to spread our friend’s ashes. We used to be close, and then…well, life happened, and we lost touch. But I hoped… it’s not going to happen. And I’m sad. And tired.”
She groans and sags against my chest. She gasps and leans away her wide eyes on my shirt.
“Oh for heaven’s sake, I’m sorry. I’ve cried all over you. I’m…” With another groan, she jumps off my lap.
“No, hey, it’s okay.” I stand, but she mumbles stilted “excuse me,” and rushes to the bathroom, and shuts the door with a slam.
I miss the warm weight of her in my lap, but I’m also glad for the chance to clear my head.
There’s a reason our paths are crossing now. She’s in need of someone; Like I was the night she found me in that bakery. The words she whispered that first day come back to me. “I water you, you water me.”
A light comes on and excitement gets my brain back online. I can’t do anything to bring her friend back or to mend her relationship with Matty.
But I can give her something happy to take back from this trip. I’ll have to make a few changes to some of my plans and it will mean I’ll have to forgo my annual howl at the moon.
But, if she’s game, this might be even better than that. Having another shot with the girl who hung the moon was a pipe dream. Having the chance to do something to pay her back, something more than just fuck her senseless, is a moonshot. I can’t pass up the chance to at least try.
The bathroom door opens and she strides out. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Her voice is cordial but her smiles, but it’s tight with discomfort, she doesn’t meet my eye.
She cuts a brisk path to the mini bar. Her rigid back to me, she busies herself pouring drinks, but doesn’t say a word.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says and turns to face me. Her eyes are clear and dry and the dark flush of emotion is gone, she looks like nothing happened. But her hand wobbles when she lifts one of the glasses she’s holding to her lips and down the entire thing in one sip.
“What was that?” I wince at her pained cringe as the liquid made its way down.
“Tequila.” She puts the empty glass down, grabs the bottle from the bar and walks over to sit next to me. She gulps half of the second glass and drops wearily onto the couch.
“ I never cry,” she sounds bemused.
I take the bottle of tequila and glass from her pour myself a shot and throw it back. The burn is good and bracing.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she takes the glass back and I pour her another finger.
“Well, you’ve had a pretty shitty trip so far. Except for the parts you spent with me, of course.” I grin when she sputters on her swallow.“How long are you here?” I ask.
“I’m leaving on Sunday.”
Perfect.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” I announce.
She stills, her eyes widen with surprise and disappointment. Maybe it’s not such a moonshot after all. “Oh, so soon?” She tries to sound casual and sits back on the couch, her hands gripped together on her lap.
“I’m going on an excursion for a few days.”
“Oh, that’s nice. To where?” She asks, her voice tinny with false cheer.
“A road trip to Isla Espiritu Santo. Stopping where we feel like between here and there.”
She blinks, frowns. “We? You’re going with someone?”
I nod. “With a woman friend.”
Her eyebrows lift in surprise and then her expression shutters. “Well, Stone it was really nice to see you. Hope you brought enough condoms to last the rest of your trip.” She gets up from the couch.
I grab her and yank her back down. “You’re gorgeous when you’re jealous.” I lean forward to kiss her.
She shoves me away. “Are you out of your mind?”she growls, her dark brows furrowing and look like the wings of an avenging angel. Her eyes glitter like stars and her face is flushed with sun and emotion.
I smile, innocently. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, I don’t think I have enough condoms. Do you know where I can get some around here?”
She gives me an acidic, contemptuous smile. “No, I don’t, asshole.” She yanks out of my grip.
I bite back a cackle and take hold of her arm again.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, feigned confusion drawing my brows down.
She d
oesn’t buy my act for one second and her lips curls in disgust. “I hope you and whoever you’re taking with you get a flat tire in the middle of the desert and have to walk for miles while coyotes chase you. And, I hope your dick falls off.”
I can’t hold my laughter any longer. It’s shitty of me to be so giddy about it. But I am. She’s jealous. And I’ve teased her long enough.
“It would be a shame if that happened because we’d miss swimming with the dolphins, bungee jumping, me eating your pussy when the sun rises, fucking it while it sets…”
“Wait, what?” She stops squirming and puts two hands on my chest and shoves me away.
I grin at the skeptical suspicion on her face.
“Are you teasing me?” she asks, clearly affronted.
“Yes. Captain Obvious,” I say.
She narrows her eyes and frowns in disapproval.
I drop a kiss on her sweet, puckered mouth. “You’re coming with me. Unless you want to stay here, staring out at that amazing view, instead of becoming part of it.”
I pull her into my arms, and she struggles, but when I nuzzle the soft skin of her neck with my nose, she melts a little before pulling away again.
“It’ll be great.” I press a kiss to her cheek, and she scowls.
“I haven’t said yes.” She stares at her linked hands resting in her lap.
“If you say no, you’ll regret it as soon as I’m gone.”
“Maybe, but I’m very adept at living with my regret,” she says.
She needs the trip worse than I thought. And my attempts to cajole her aren’t going to work, so I drop it and give it to her straight. “Listen, you have a lot going on. I’m not saying that I have the answers. But I think you need to really get away. Not just to bury your friend and lay around this boring resort. Let’s have an adventure.”
Her eyes dart to me and then back to her hands.
“It’ll be fun.” I nudge her, keeping my voice casual and free of the hope growing in my gut.
“When would we be back?” she asks. It’s only tinged with tentative exuberance, but a smile curves the corners of her full mouth, and I have to stop myself from pumping my fist in the air.
“On Friday, when the rest of my family is due.”
Her eyes bulge. “Your family? Like…your brothers? They’re coming here?” Each sentence is louder than the one before it.
“Yeah. My brother’s fiancée is throwing a surprise wedding here, and so, my whole family, except my mother, thank God, will be here on Friday.”
She covers her face with her hands and groans into them.
I knew this was coming. “They’ll be here Friday, and we’ll be discreet. It’ll be fine.”
She moves her hands from her face and eyes me with a skeptical frown.
“So, let’s say we do this. Then, what?”
“We go our separate ways,” I answer with the obvious.
“And, what happens when you move back to Houston, and we run each other, and I’m with my husband.
I envision the moment she’s just referenced, and it makes me feel like my skin is too tight.
“It’ll be fine,” I say, ignoring the sensation.
She winces and looks away. Her shoulders hunch. “Maybe… we shouldn’t have sex while we’re away.”
I shake my head in vigorous disagreement. “I think that is a terrible idea, and I’m sure your vagina would agree.”
She doesn’t smile. “I think we should be clear about what this is. I may or may not leave my husband. I don’t want us to get confused…and, I would hate to hurt you, Stone. The way I did back then.”
It pricks my ire to have this compared to that. “I’m not that boy either, I don’t think I’ve got one foot in the grave, but relationships aren’t my thing. I used to think you’d be mine--.”
“You did?” She asks wide eyed with surprise.
“--when I was too young to know better.” I finish.
“And now?”
“Now…” I turn my gaze away, a caught off guard by the direct question. I run a hand through my hair while I pick my words carefully. “Now, there’s some nostalgia for the past. But 99.5% of this is just a man who is insanely attracted to a woman who speaks his language in more ways than one. Your pussy feels great, tastes great too. I want more of it. But I’m not going to fall in love or anything... so, you don’t have to worry that I’ll stab your husband.”
Her bark of laughter seems to surprise her as much as it surprises me. “I was thinking more like uncomfortable silences and dark glares.”
“Not my style.” I assure her.
Her lips twist. “Well, then let me speak for myself. I don’t want to end up with my feelings fucked. Clearly, I’m not in the best place emotionally. Maybe…we should just play it by ear. See how we feel once we’re all alone.”
I couldn’t disagree more, but I’m not going to pressure her about this.
“It’ll be great, either way, and I’ll take my cues from you.” I say and I mean it. Maybe when this is over, we’ll walk away friends again. At the very worst, she’ll be excellent company. And I know that we don’t need sex to connect.
From our time in the bakery and that shuttle ride, I also know that Regan will break all sorts of rules when she thinks no one is watching. And we’re going to have plenty of alone time in the next few days.
“I was going to leave at 9, is that too early?” I ask.
She looks at me, her dark eyes twinkling, her smile wider than I’ve seen it since we’ve been here. “Right now, it wouldn't be too early.” She declares and then jumps up.
“Oh my God,” she screams suddenly and flops onto her back, clutching a pillow to her chest and kicking her legs wildly.
“Woah!” I lurch back in surprise when she pops back up in a flash of dark hair and gleaming white teeth.
“I’m so excited. I’ve never done anything like this. I can’t believe it.”
“It won’t be luxurious like this. I don’t even know where I’m staying in Balandra.”
“But it’ll be an adventure,” her enthusiasm in unflagging.
“Do you speak Spanish?”
“A little?” She says with a nervous grin.
“Okay. Just don’t buy anything without me haggling for you, okay?”
“Okay. So, we’re going? Really?” Her expression is hopeful but tinged with fear. Like she’s just been given the chance to have something she wants desperately and she’s afraid to believe it. It’s the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen her, and it takes my breath away.
In a flash of certainty, I know that I’d move heaven and earth before I let that hope on her face do anything but flourish.
“Yes, really. It’ll be fun at the very worst and at it’s very best, it will be life changing,” I say.
She laughs and rolls her eyes. “I’ll be happy if it’s not a total disaster and I come home with all of my limbs intact.”
“Oh, then you’re going to be ecstatic. Because you’re going to learn things about yourself you can’t know until you go to a place you’ve never been before.”
“Wow. You’re really good at selling the idea of travel.”
“I’m an evangelist for it.”
She starts to dance around
Maybe living in Houston won’t be so bad. Especially if we can find a way to keep this going.
No. I can’t let myself start thinking like that. When I move back to Houston, it won’t matter. There, she’s so off limits, it’s not even funny.
No, what happens here is going to stay here.
But as I watch Regan Wilde's sexy ass twirl around her hotel room with that horizon at her back, I get a glimpse of another unknowable destination - one where my future and my past collide, and then click into place.
Social Butterfly
Regan
“We’re here,” A warm hand on my shoulder jostles me out of the most delicious nap I can recall taking. It takes me a moment to remember where I am. I glance over at
Stone and the tender smile on his face makes my toes curl.
I stretch and glance around at the collection of beautifully preserved buildings and the bright colors of the flags that adorn the main street we’re parked on.
“Where are we?”
“Todos Santos, I thought we could stop and grab coffee and take a picture outside Hotel California.”
“Like the Eagles Song?”
“Yeah, but the Eagles swear it’s not. Wait there.” He hops out of the car and I take the opportunity to admire his loose, ground eating stride as he comes around the front of the car to my side.
He opens my door with a bow and offers me his hand and murmurs, “Goddess.”
“You’re silly,” I giggle and let him help me climb out. He twines our fingers together as we walk down the street toward a cluster of restaurants. And, I don’t mind one bit. I haven’t held hands with anyone but my children in decades. I forgot how intimate it is. Even though I just rediscovered him two days ago, it feels just as comfortable and easy as it did all those years ago.
We left just after sunrise and I didn’t even ask where we were going. I found I didn’t care. I trust him. And I want this experience, with all the handholding, beautiful views, and unscripted stops it comes with.
I breathe in deep and catch the salt of the ocean and the sweet of the flowers and the spice of the aromas floating out of the restaurants, and my empty stomach grumbles.
Todos Santos is one of Mexico’s most popular destinations. And not because of the hotel. It’s home to the burgeoning artist community who have come to set up shop and make a name for themselves.
“This place is gorgeous. Can we eat and hang out for a bit?” I ask.
Stone lets go of my hand, to sling an arm over my shoulder and pulls me close to his side. “We can do anything we fucking want,” he drawls.
And we do.
We sit and check Trip Advisor and decide on a place called Art and Beer for breakfast. It’s a quaint little outpost that can’t decide whether it wants to be an art gallery or bar and so has decided to be both. The chalkboard menus boasted everything from shellfish appetizers to whole lobster. We sat out on the reed covered deck that overlooked the spectacular wild blue of the Sea of Cortez.
