As soon as I was deep enough in the water, I slipped my head back to wet my curly hair. Donning my fins and then my mask, I put my face in the water and swam out to him, about twenty yards from shore.
I removed the snorkel from my mouth. “What’s to see here?” My voice had a husky quality to it that I blamed on the snorkel and the exertion to reach him though it hadn’t really been all that far.
“Lots of variety at Hawksnest,” he replied, his tone a lower rumble than I had yet heard it. He touched my arm, fingers skimming softly over my wet skin before he adjusted the straps on my mask.
I stared into his gorgeous grey eyes through the glass, and he stared right back at me for several protracted moments. The world seemed to hold its breath…or maybe it was just me. I noticed everything in those moments. The water droplets on his dark lashes. The mix of grey and blue in his eyes. How the ocean lapped against parts of me that had awakened because of him and how much I ached for a man’s experienced touch.
His touch.
“Reef squid. Turtles. Parrotfish. Angelfish.” He cleared his throat almost as if he had been as lost in me as I had been lost in him. Then he smiled softly, and I noted how his eyes had crinkled white lines around the edges. “Let’s stay together.” His lips formed a compelling frame that I suddenly had an ill-advised desire to taste. “I’ll squeeze your hand and point if I see something interesting, if you promise to do the same for me.”
I nodded, though I hadn’t really focused on what he had said. Not when his gaze had dipped to my lips as I wet them. Warmed by the dark charcoal his eyes had become, I held my breath. We were so close, and he hadn’t let go of me since he had adjusted my mask. His hands were on my shoulders as we both treaded water. His grip felt significantly warmer than the tropical water.
He leaned closer.
Was he going to kiss me?
Would I let him?
“You’ll need this,” he advised, sliding the snorkel with its plastic mouthpiece toward my lips. I felt foolish and guilty for the forbidden direction my thoughts had taken me.
However, I didn’t remember ever letting out that breath that I had taken in thinking about the possibility of him pressing his lips to mine. It burned bright inside my chest throughout the hours of snorkeling that we did together. He was always nearby making sure I didn’t drift too far out to sea. He glided his fingers along my arm or grasped my hand to point out something interesting, his methods of communicating underwater where words were impossible.
I liked his method. I liked it a lot.
After a while, I started to do the same thing. I tugged on his wrist when I spotted an octopus peeking out from under the fire coral, and I grabbed his hand when I saw a French angelfish he might have missed. I forgot there was another world outside our watery one until I turned the corner and nearly slammed into a four foot long barracuda. Eyes wide, I swam as close as I could get to Johnny and pointed frantically toward it.
Tucking me into his side, he led me several yards from the perceived threat and lifted his head out of the water. I did the same but glanced back in the direction where the fish with the razor sharp teeth had been, afraid it might have followed us.
He touched my face, and I turned back to regard him, knowing my eyes were still wide behind the glass of my mask. He removed his snorkel and lifted his mask on top of his head. Water sluiced in enticing rivulets from his thick black hair to his broad shoulders. “It’s okay, fancy face.” He removed my snorkel for me, his thumb brushing across my parted lips. My heart rate sped up, but no longer from fright. “That barracuda is always there because that’s where the reef squid hang out. It’s not interested in having you for dinner. If you ignore it,” he gently lifted my mask onto my head, “it will ignore you.”
Yeah, I thought wryly, that strategy might work for the barracuda, but it probably won’t work for all of the jumbled feelings and desires you have stirred up in me.
Later on the shore, unaware of my secret thoughts, Johnny rinsed and stowed away the snorkel equipment. He took the beer I popped open for him, and I began to get our lunch out of the cooler.
“Get yours first, Anna,” he told me when I handed him a plate. “We snorkeled a long time. You’ve got to be starved.”
“I am, but I like taking care of whoever I’m with.” My breath came in on a sudden rush when he curled his finger under my chin and lifted my head so I had to look at him instead of at the sandwich I was making.
“I can see that.” His piercing grey eyes held me captive.
“Part of the mom in me,” I explained. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Maybe not to you, but to me it certainly is. The women I used to hang around with cared more that they were…that I was…well, they cared more about a broken nail than they cared about me as a person or being kind enough to think to serve me before themselves. Yet you do it like it’s second nature.” He tucked a wet curl behind my ear. “And you look beautiful doing it.”
“I’ve got snorkel mask indentations on my face. I’m all sandy and my hair’s a mess. You’ve been by yourself too long, I think.”
“Just because I’ve been out of circulation for a while doesn’t mean I can’t recognize true beauty when I see it.”
“Thank you. That’s very nice of you to say.”
“I can see you don’t believe me,” he concluded after his eyes searched mine. “It’s as much about your words and actions as it is your pretty features. Calling to check on your boys even though you were so exhausted you fell asleep sitting up. The way you speak so lovingly about your family and my sister. Forgiving me for being an ass and helping me mend things with Claire. That’s not just superficial. It’s deeper. Real beauty always rises up from what lies inside, fancy face. Don’t you know that?”
If he was right then he had a lot of beauty inside of him, too. I had a hard time not gawking at this man with a swimsuit model’s physique and a poet’s heart. While my lunch remained mostly uneaten in front of me, he finished his in a couple of quick bites. Then he laid on his side on the beach blanket, and the photographer in me had the urge to snap a photo, except that the shadows from the sea grape tree would have interfered with the shot.
While he relaxed, I busied myself throwing away our trash, stowing away the uneaten parts of our lunch and fumbling when I found his eyes on me.
His dark brows dipped, and he turned his head away, reaching for his sunglasses and rolling onto his back.
I swallowed, deciding I must have imagined the serious look in his gaze. He certainly couldn’t be as caught off guard. Fumbling in my mind like I had fumbled with our supplies, I felt like I suddenly needed words to fill the awkward silence. I glanced out at the sparkling water and listened to the waves lapping at the shore. The question automatically drifted into my mind.
“Why St. John?”
“Hmm,” he murmured lazily as if drunk on the one beer and the sun.
“It’s an island paradise, but why did you choose it as opposed to somewhere else?”
“Because it felt right. Like home, from the first time I saw it.” His biceps bunched tightly as he lifted up onto his elbows to regard me for a long moment from behind the dark barrier of his sunglasses. He seemed to be trying to work something out in his mind, or maybe he wanted me to pick up on something, but before I could figure it out, he continued. “Life had gotten out of control for me at one point. The slow pace here, the simple lifestyle, it was just what I needed to help me put the scattered pieces of my life back together.”
I nodded. I could understand that. I could feel it beginning for me.
“Then when things didn’t work out the way I thought they would, I came back, and here I have stayed.” His explanation was vague, but I got the idea he was probably talking about the woman he had almost married. “What about you? What do you like about Dallas, and what do you do back there besides take care of your boys and keep my sister in line?”
I told him how I loved the wide open spaces of the M
etroplex. I talked about my charity work and how much I enjoyed the specialty water aerobics class I had begun to teach at his sister’s insistence.
While we packed up the jeep, he told me details about some of the islands he had visited and how he liked to sleep on the front netting of his boat so he could look at the stars.
I listened attentively as he continued to describe his favorite beaches on the way back to the villa, thinking how the open jeep somehow felt like a bubble in a private universe just big enough for the two of us. I realized that the way I felt, the breathless effervescence, had begun all the way back when he had first stared at me through my snorkel mask and that it had not lessened all day. Being with him and getting to know him was like discovering something wonderful. Something that you never knew you needed but now that you had found it realized you didn’t just need it, you needed it desperately.
“I’ve got some things I need to take care of, Anna,” Johnny told me back at the house without meeting my eyes as he rinsed off the cooler and the snorkel equipment with the garden hose. “Will you be alright by yourself tonight?”
“Yes, absolutely.” I hid my disappointment. Maybe I had misread things. The lingering touches. The soft whispers in my ear. The hot glances. The connection. “I need to check on my boys and I should get to bed early.” For what reason I didn’t really know, but it seemed like the appropriate thing to say.
He shut off the hose and straightened a lock of his hair that had escaped the sunglasses and fallen into his eyes. He stared at me for a long moment. His gaze seemed conflicted almost as if he were wrestling with himself about something. “Have a good evening, Anna,” he said low like a permanent goodbye, stepping close and grazing his warm knuckles softly over my cheek before he turned away and took the path around the villa to the lower level.
“You, too,” I said softly to the emptiness that remained after his departure, standing in the driveway feeling unsure and strangely bereft.
Get a clue, Annabelle. He’s hot and thirty-three-years-old. He took pity on you. He’s going to run back into town and grab his twenty-five-year-old girlfriend and fuck the hell out of her. Newsflash, you’re not even an afterthought in his scene.
Only later I wondered if maybe I had been wrong because after I had my shower and called my boys it wasn’t male groans or feminine giggling that drifted upstairs from his apartment down below. It was the sound of the piano. Soft, tinkling high notes and a few somber, wistful low ones. A tune began to coalesce that I had never heard before. Did he write music? He started humming, and his voice was rich and soulful, somehow reminding me of the way he had looked at me before he had said goodnight.
“WHATCHA COOKING?”
I gasped when Johnny showed up unexpectedly the next morning wearing only a pair of black boxers low on his narrow hips, that revealed more than they concealed. It was all I could do not to stare when I noticed the size and thickness of his morning erection. My skin got hot and my knees went weak. I thought seriously about running down to the ocean to cool off.
“Scrambled eggs,” I managed to reply feeling like I needed an Academy Award for just those two words considering the circumstance. “And there’s coffee in the carafe.”
“Thanks, Anna.” He grinned. Did he know the effect he had on me? He seemed so lighthearted this morning after having been so abruptly somber the night before. I wondered if it might be because playing the piano was therapeutic for him. “I brought orange juice.” He set it on the counter. “What’s on your agenda today?”
Get my life together. Stop fantasizing about my best friend’s brother. Her much younger than me brother.
“Not a thing. What’s on yours?”
“Nothing,” he said after a long pause where his eyes seemed to search mine.
“How about we go for a hike? Take the Ram’s Head Trail to Salt Pond. There are some beautiful views along the way and snorkeling at the end. Maybe we’ll spot that mysterious, exotic pet jaguar everyone likes to pretend was dropped off on the island.”
“I don’t know.” I scooped most of the eggs and put them on a plate for him. “I’m sure you have better things to do than hang out with a middle-aged lady like me. Really. I’m okay. I have a lot of thinking to do and this beautiful deck of yours is so inviting.”
He frowned. The dark grey of his eyes looked like a thundercloud just before it released a torrential downpour. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“No. Just…you don’t have to entertain me, Johnny.” I took a seat at the bar beside him but kept my gaze plastered to my plate.
“Anna,” he breathed my name. I lifted my eyes, staring into the passionate ones of a man who enthralled me. I decided I always wanted to hear my name from his lips, sounding just like that. “I like you. I want to spend time with you, as much as you’re willing to spare while you’re here.” My mouth parted. He leaned close and traced my lips with the pad of his thumb. I blinked slowly. He grinned even slower. “Is that okay?”
I nodded. It was unwise of me, but I didn’t feel like being wise right then.
“Good.” His voice was deep like a husky invitation for something more. I considered more. I imagined what it would be like to feel his lips on mine. I wondered what it would be like if he took me right there on the kitchen table.
After we separated, I tried to determine if the invitation was real. I let my robe part, watching his eyes darken as they drifted to my exposed cleavage. I licked my lips unnecessarily as I ate, and his grip on the juice glass tightened to the point that I feared for his fingers if it broke. But beyond that he did nothing, and I concluded that I must have misinterpreted his cues.
While I took a shower, he went downstairs to pack another cooler, smaller than the one we had taken to the beach. We stuffed it into a backpack and hiked the one mile trail. I didn’t mind the circuitous route he took to show me different things because Johnny led, and I enjoyed the view of him from behind. Besides that, there were beautiful panoramic overlooks and interesting trees and plants along the way, including a lot of cactus since the trail was on the arid side of the island.
“What song were you playing last night?” I asked as I passed him a plate with the sandwich I had just made, and loaded it up with an assortment of chips, nuts, and the fruit he had packed.
“Not a song.” He set the paper plate down on the blanket he had spread out over the pebbly ground. “I was just messing around.”
“Well, it sounded really good to me.” I took a bite and chewed while gazing reflectively out over the turquoise water. I was going to take some photos of the scenery after we were through with lunch. The light wasn’t ideal, but the way the wind blew through the branches of the Plumeria tree spoke to me. “But I thought you didn’t play anymore,” I reminded him.
“Not much. Only when I need to work something out or when I feel inspired.” He reached over and captured a curl the breeze had blown across my lips, his fingers trailing softly across them and then my neck, as he tucked it behind my ear. “I feel very inspired since you arrived, Anna.”
I felt the same but didn’t voice the thought. It would make me feel too vulnerable when I really had no idea what was going on his head where I was concerned. I swiveled around and withdrew a chilled bottle of water, uncapping it and handing it to him before reaching in and getting one for myself.
When we were both through with lunch he patted his stomach, laid back on the blanket using his arm for a pillow, and closed his eyes while I gathered and put away the remains of our meal. It took me longer than it should have. I got distracted tracing the chiseled lines of his handsome face and the contours of his strong body with my gaze.
“Stop fussing,” he ordered gently with his eyes still closed, patting the spot beside him. “Come lie down and rest.”
Lay down beside him? Not a good idea.
“Maybe in a minute,” I told him. “I wanna take a few shots first.” He opened his eyes and turned to his side watching me as I got out my camera and u
ncapped the lens.
“How long have you been taking pictures?” he asked.
“Since high school. I took a class, and it kind of stuck even through college.” I liked looking at the world through the lens of a camera. It allowed me to control what I saw, and what I didn’t want to see, which during my childhood and my marriage had been a lot. “My first job,” my only job since I met Charles and married him shortly after starting, “was at Zenith Productions.” I was looking through my lens and focused on the shot so I didn’t see the deep dip in Johnny’s brows. “I worked in the advertising department but was doing some freelance photography on the side. Someone at work liked the photos and recommended me to Star Angel. I actually did a couple of her album covers before I quit.” Got pregnant. Got married. Stopped working at Charles’ insistence.
“You did Liar’s Lament and Good Girls Gone Bad for her, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” I capped the lens. “How did you know that?”
“An educated guess. Plus, I peeked at some of the photos on your camera. You have a large memory card and a very unique style. Your siblings and your boys look like you, but even in your pictures of your family, it’s all about freedom of movement with you, isn’t it?”
My jaw dropped. It did that a lot around him, but this time it was his audacity and intuitiveness, not his sexy body that was the cause.
“You’re not gonna rest.” He sat up. “So we might as well get going.” He snagged his backpack and the one I had been carrying. “The cool water’s going to feel good after hiking beneath the sun.” He brushed his fingers over my arm as he passed me. “Your skin’s getting a little pink. You need to reapply sunscreen before we go in. I’ll help with your back.”
I let him do my back, and it was a glorious feeling to have those skilled fingers running across my skin. He drank an entire bottled water after that. I wanted to think it was because touching me made his throat go dry and his body crazy with lust. Being touched by him certainly did both those things to me. I ran straight for the water to hide my response to him.
Find Me--Part One Page 4
