He reclaimed his seat and drained half his beer before leaning forward to scoop salad from a bowl onto my plate first and then his own. His portion was huge. He speared another filet, too.
I smiled wider. I had two teenage boys who had appetites just as big as his. Charles wasn’t home for dinner often enough anymore for me to make a comparison.
“Ranch dressing?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
“I’m Johnny by the way. But my friends call me Lightning.” Again a searching glance and a pause as if maybe that revelation should mean something to me. “What’s your real name, fancy face?”
“Annabelle.” I smiled as I chewed enjoying his company. “But your sister calls me Belle.”
“WELL, I CAN’T very well call you that, can I?” he asked, his tone teasing. “Isn’t that the name of the Disney character from Beauty and the Beast?”
I nodded.
“The one who goes around with her head stuck in a book,” he confirmed. He placed his napkin on the table next to his empty plate while studying me with unnerving intensity. “Are you a reader, fancy face?” He seemed very curious about me, determined to delve deeper.
“Sometimes,” I admitted. “If it’s a good mystery with lots of clues to put together and some action to make it interesting.”
“There aren’t many mysteries on the sleepy island of St. John. But I’ll see what I can do about adding in a little action to make your stay here interesting.” After cleverly turning my words around, he tapped a finger to his chin. “You don’t seem like a Belle to me.” His voice rumbled low, and the inflections he used added to the intimacy of the moment. “You’re too sophisticated and sexy. Definitely not G rated.”
Me? Sophisticated and sexy? Was he flirting with me? I had been out of practice for too long to be certain.
“Don’t get me wrong. I’ve got no problem with a girl who likes to read. That usually implies that she’s intelligent, has an imagination, and a predilection for creativity.”
I wanted to fan myself with my hand despite the air conditioning. Everything he said, everything he did made my mind careen around one thought. Don’t look at the bed, I warned myself. Again. The strain from the day before when he had seemed to develop such an instant dislike toward me had turned into dangerous tension of another sort, if I was reading the situation correctly. Had it changed because of something Claire had told him? I felt at a distinct disadvantage not knowing exactly what he knew about me.
“You said you’d spoken with Claire recently?” I probed after taking a swig of my beer.
He nodded. “I called her today to let her know I was on island. We had a short conversation. Well, mostly she did the talking.”
“That’s Claire.”
“Yeah, bossy since birth.”
“Opinionated,” I softened.
“Yeah if by opinionated you mean her way is the only way.”
I laughed. Claire was headstrong, but she was a good friend. A steadying influence. Our friendship had begun around the time he had moved away. “She misses you, badly I think.”
“How do you figure that?”
“She’s never really said so, but whenever you come up in conversation, she gets a really melancholy look on her face.” I tilted my head inquisitively watching him, awaiting his response. “Not that you come up very often. She’s only spoken in broad generalities about you.” I didn’t want him to feel awkward or get the impression that we sat around and gossiped about him. “She just shared how rough it was for you both after the crash…” I trailed off as his expression turned guarded, much like hers whenever we talked about that time. “What I mean to say is…that…” I stumbled for the right words. “She speaks very highly of you and how well you took care of her. I think in her mind she was a burden to you back then so she doesn’t want to say anything now, but I can tell that she wishes that she heard from you more.”
“She never lets on whenever we do talk.” His brow furrowed. “But then again she’s always been so self-sufficient.”
“Siblings are important,” I stated gently. I knew he believed that too, or he never would have taken care of Claire like he had right up until she’d left for college. “Sometimes they’re all you have. I know that pretty well,” I explained giving him a little background that I usually didn’t share. “I grew up in a house with two alcoholic parents. My older brother Cooper was my shield, and my younger sister Faith was my refuge. I don’t know what I would have done if they hadn’t been around.”
“I’m sorry, Anna.” We shared a moment of empathy and something more. It was wrapped up like a pretty package deep inside his eyes as he had spoken my name so softly. He seemed to see me in a way no one else ever had. But I couldn’t acknowledge that. My mind scampered away from the idea faster than it had from the realization that my dress had been see through. A shadow of regret seemed to pass over his gaze, but whether it was because of our conversation or something else I couldn’t tell.
Johnny said there weren’t many mysteries on the island. He was definitely one of them, one that intrigued me more than I should have allowed. But I couldn’t help myself. I was as curious about him as he seemed to be about me. It was strange. On one hand, I felt comfortable with him because he was Claire’s brother. On the other hand, I was more than a bit unnerved by how attracted I was to him. My mind kept wandering off on tangents it usually didn’t go to. I was overly conscious of my movements. My legs turned into uncoordinated blocks of wood. My heart beat too fast, my lips got too dry and my breathing became too shallow.
“It’s ok.” I needed to focus on something else. “I’m sure Claire would love to see you. She could come here,” I suggested. “Now that you’re back.”
“She could,” he allowed. “That’s actually a good idea. Thank you, fancy face. I’m really glad I decided to return to the island when I did.” He abruptly pushed back from the table and picked up his plate. I got the impression that maybe he had shared more than he had meant to. His gaze dipped to my plate. “You done?”
“Yes, but I’ll get it.” My reply was notably breathy as if I had just finished a quick sprint. The amount of pleasure I experienced from his praise revealed much. My lips parted in order to usher in the extra oxygen my lungs suddenly demanded to keep up with my racing heart. I stood to gather dishes, following him into the kitchen when I had an armload, trying to find a safe zone for my gaze. There wasn’t one. Wide shoulders. Narrow hips. Long legs. Perfect ass. All of him sexy. All of him impairing my ability to reason. All of him an indulgence I couldn’t afford.
“You can set those down on the counter. I’ll wash them later.” He gave me a long searching glance.
“Why don’t we just do them now?” I looked away trying to regather my thoughts. “It won’t take long.”
He agreed, but I could tell he was surprised by my offer. I think we were both a little surprised by the other. I got the hot water running insisting on washing while he dried. My arms up to the elbows in a sink full of suds, we worked efficiently side by side as if we had done so dozens of times.
“It’s probably still too hot for you to fall asleep upstairs,” Johnny said as he put the last pan in the cabinet.
“Maybe,” I agreed, taking the stopper out of the sink while he threw the dish towel he had been using onto the counter.
“If you’re not too tired, we could watch a movie together. I won’t keep you up too late. I want to take you to my favorite beach for some snorkeling early in the morning.”
After a little debate about selection, he popped a movie into the Blu-ray that we had both already seen, but one that I had chosen because it was an action flick with a decent romance. Perching on one side of his small beige leather coach, suppressing my excitement about spending more time with him the next day, I hugged my arms around myself. He took a seat on the other end, sprawling his long legs out in front of him. I was acutely aware of his presence. He radiated heat and the air conditioning was freezi
ng. Or at least that was the lie I told myself.
“You’re cold,” he remarked during the first chase scene, the one I barely noticed because I was too busy sneaking side glances at him.
“No, I’m not.” I shook my head.
“You’ve got goosebumps on your arms.” How had he noticed that? Was he watching me as closely as I was watching him? “So either you scoot over here and let me warm you up, or I get a blanket for you. Your choice.”
I chose the blanket. I might have spontaneously combusted had I taken him up on the other. He retrieved it from the bed I had been trying to ignore. The material was soft and smelled like a blend of fresh ocean breeze and citrus cocktail. Exactly the way he did.
“How old are your boys?” he asked, shifting suddenly to more fully face me, the television bathing his handsome features in a blue glow.
“Trent is eighteen. CJ is fifteen.” The question was a little unexpected. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s obvious they’re important to you and I heard you talking to them last night.” He shrugged at my arched brow. “Sound carries pretty well from the upstairs unit.” His gaze seemed serious though his tone was light. “You wear a wedding ring, but you didn’t mention a husband, and I didn’t hear you talking to one, either. Did something…happen to him?”
The easy groove we had fallen into since cleanup dissipated instantly. It suddenly seemed as though Charles was an actual presence on the sofa between us.
“Yeah something,” I replied bitterly, twisting the three carat round Tacori engagement ring and matching band that was just for show these days. It meant nothing now…at least to Charles, and it had been that way almost from the beginning of our marriage. But I didn’t go into all of that. It was too painful to admit, too humiliating.
“What about you?” I asked him, deflecting. “Is there anyone else?” I remembered what Claire had said about the fiancée who had broken his heart and his comment about no one ever sitting in the passenger side of his jeep. Those details plus the fact that the upstairs and downstairs apartments seemed to be devoid of any feminine touches strongly implied that he remained unattached. After having gotten to know him a little bit better, I couldn’t really understand why.
“No children. You’ve got to have someone you can trust. Someone who you know will also be a good mother before you can consider starting a family, in my opinion. I’ve never met a woman like that.”
His answer was nearly as vague as mine, though telling. Obviously his fiancée hadn’t measured up to those standards. I settled deeper into the couch and went back to pretending to watch the movie, but mostly I peeked at him through my lashes and wondered.
“HOW MUCH FOOD did you put in there?” I asked Johnny the next morning as he hefted the cooler into the back of the jeep, his biceps flexing beneath the weight. “I can tell it weighs a ton. I thought we were going to the beach for the day, not an entire week.”
“Who knows what will happen today.” His eyes gleamed with rakish intent. “Maybe we’ll stay longer. Maybe we’ll find other things to do and burn more calories than we anticipate. It’s best to be prepared, Anna.” I tried to pretend I didn’t like his playful teasing or the way his voice sounded when he abbreviated my name. But I think my flushed cheeks gave me away. He seemed amused that I was flustered. His gaze lingered on my face, and he was still grinning after he closed my door and climbed into the driver’s seat.
I shifted to watch Johnny like I had too many times the night before. The morning sunlight only improved the view. Sunglasses shielding his eyes he drove the jeep confidently, his strong fingers working the stick shift more capably along the up and down two lane road than I had. He didn’t turn on the radio and I was glad. I enjoyed the muted early morning sounds of the island and the easy comfort of his presence.
When we reached downtown Cruz Bay I tried to focus on learning the maze of confusing streets as Johnny zipped the jeep through them, instead of memorizing every detail about him and wishing I could photograph him. His profile serene, the wind sifted through the long layers of his thick black hair like invisible fingers. He wore a plain grey v neck t-shirt that looked like it had been poured onto his chiseled chest along with a pair of long swim trunks. This time they were light blue. He rested one arm on the sill while he steered with the other. Masculine wrists. Strong veins on the backs of his hands. Long fingers. Blunt nails. Musician’s hands, despite his admission that he didn’t play much anymore.
He took the steep hill up from town and turned into an empty parking lot when we reached the bottom on the other side. Angling the jeep into a spot next to a sea grape tree with a twisted trunk and large, fan-shaped leaves, he popped off his seat belt and exited well before I did grabbing the cooler and the tote full of beach paraphernalia. I followed behind him a little less enthusiastically. It was still early, and I hadn’t yet finished my travel mug full of caffeine.
I perked up when I saw the view framed by more sea grapes. I had never seen sand so purely white or felt any so fine between my toes. The water started as a foamy ribbon of lace at the shore, and then became clear for a bit before turning light blue and then brilliant turquoise further out by the reef. I hadn’t realized I had stopped with my toes buried deep in the sand, mouth open in awed wonder, until his low chuckle broke the spell.
“That was my reaction the first time I came here. Hawksnest is one of my favorite beaches. It gets overlooked because it’s so close to town. It’s not always the hard to reach places that are the best ones, you know?”
Under one of the trees he laid our towels on the talcum textured sand and hung the tote from one of the branches. “Ready to snorkel?” he asked, looking as eager as my boys when the three of us climbed onto the oversized sectional in our recreation room and got ready to watch JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, our favorite Japanese anime series.
“Sure.” I smiled. His enthusiasm was contagious. “But let me take a couple of photos of the beach while I choke down the rest of this coffee. I need the caffeine to counterbalance your youthful energy.”
He frowned. It didn’t seem as though he liked being reminded of the age difference between us. “How old do you think I am, Anna?”
“I don’t know,” I stated truthfully feeling caught off balance by his directness. “A lot younger than me.”
“I’m thirty-three. Last I checked that wasn’t all that young. Legal, certainly. How old are you?”
“A gentleman never asks…”
“I’m certainly no gentleman. Of that I can assure you. If you knew what I’ve been thinking since I first saw you this morning in that black bikini…” His eyes looked sinfully dark in the shade beneath the tree.
“But I’ve got on a cover up…” I reminded him, my voice a little breathy.
“I don’t know why women wear those things.” He snorted. “It’s mesh. It’s like a peep show every time you move.” He stroked his beard as he regarded me. “What’s beautiful to a man never changes. Curves, soft hair, smooth skin, heat that blooms because of our touch. But nothing is more seductive than looking into the eyes of someone you’re attracted to and having the desire you’re feeling mirrored back at you.”
I swallowed to moisten my throat. The present topic and the undercurrent between us, whether real or imagined made my mouth go dry. Though older, I felt less experienced somehow, I guess since he had been on his own from such a young age. I definitely felt completely out of my league with this handsome, much younger man. “I’m nearly forty-one,” I confessed. “My birthday’s coming up soon.”
“Mine was nearly a full year ago. So I’m almost thirty-four. Seven years isn’t much.” He took my mug and set it aside, then reached for the zipper on my cover up. “Need some help getting this off?” He lifted an inquiring brow.
“No. I’m alright. I can get it myself.” My voice sounded high and panicked, exactly the way I felt.
“Okay, but hurry.” He grinned. I loved being on the receiving end of one of his smiles, even if I
didn’t really know what I had done to amuse him. He grabbed a pair of fins and a blue snorkel from the hanging tote. When he reached between his shoulder blades and took off his t-shirt, my jaw came unhinged.
Again.
What kind of exercise routine did he do besides the boating to get muscle definition like that? I saw lots of the same guys in the gym back home nearly every week. They worked out constantly like I had since the boys got older and I met Claire, but none of them had a body near as amazing as his. Luckily he was already halfway to the ocean and didn’t see my response. I had a feeling if he did that grin of his would have grown wider.
“Meet you in the water, Anna,” he yelled kicking up splash as he jogged out into the flat crystalline surf.
I practiced breathing techniques and polished off the last of my coffee before talking myself into unzipping my cover up. Trying not to look at him, I stumbled and slid ungracefully down the sandy slope into the water with my snorkel equipment in hand.
I hoped Johnny already had his mask in the water. No such luck. His mask was up on his head. He was treading water, and he was staring...at me. He looked so long that my cheeks grew warm, and my mouth got dry all over again.
You’re imagining his interest, I told myself. Sure the two piece swimsuit was sexy. Claire had talked me into the demibra-like top and the Brazilian cut bottoms. But my hips were too wide, and my breasts were too full after two pregnancies, no matter how much I worked out. Nothing I had could possibly hold his attention.
I glanced behind me expecting to see some slim supermodel walking into the ocean, but there was no one. Just me. And damn if that hot look from him after all I had been through in my marriage wasn’t a balm for my ravaged ego.
Find Me--Part One Page 3
