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Playing in the Rain

Page 2

by Jane Harvey-Berrick


  And then I saw him.

  And he was even more beautiful than I remembered.

  He hadn’t seen me, so I was able to watch without him knowing.

  Truthfully, I was staring. He looked even more incredible without the veil of yesterday’s rain. Today, his hair was slicked back with sweat, and the white t-shirt had been replaced with a pale blue that matched his eyes.

  As I continued to stare, he grabbed his shirt by the back of the neck, yanking it roughly over his head, and tossing it onto the grass.

  His furry friend bounced up and down, clearly recognizing this as playtime. I watched the man pry the tennis ball from the beast’s jaws, ignoring the accompanying drool, and threw it 20 yards.

  Mystery man was ripped. I could count his abs as he bent and stretched, and the muscles in his back rippled every time he threw the ball. His skin was smooth and tanned a deep golden-brown, accentuating those extraordinary pale blue eyes against his black hair.

  He was graceful, too: every movement purposeful, with a hint of restrained power.

  After a few minutes, the hound flopped at his feet, worn out by the heat and its own shaggy coat. Mystery man poured some water into his cupped hands and let the dog lap at it messily.

  The man—Cody, as I now knew him—looked up and saw me, pausing in surprise, then flashing his meltingly-beautiful smile.

  As he walked towards me, my heart gave a hopeful little leap.

  “Hi,” he said. “You’re the girl in the car.”

  “Yes,” I squeaked, annoyed that my voice was an octave higher than usual, just when I’d wanted to sound husky and sexy.

  “You look different out of your business clothes.”

  His words, which could have been innocent, took on a sultry tone as he continued to gaze down at me.

  I felt my cheeks heat as I squinted up at him, shading my eyes from the sun, trying to figure out how to answer, but he saved me the effort.

  “Can I buy you an ice cream? There’s a guy across the park that makes awesome frozen yogurt.”

  “Are you hitting on me?”

  The words blurted out in an embarrassing gush of sound.

  He grinned. “Well, yeah, I guess! Pretty girl, beautiful day, awesome frozen yogurt—definitely one of the good days. I’m Cody.”

  He held his hand out to me then stared at it in dismay.

  “Uh, that’s not such a great idea. I’m pretty sure Oscar drooled on me.” He wiped his hand down his shorts, then turned and called over his shoulder. “Oscar, come here, boy! Come say hi.”

  The beast reluctantly heaved itself upright and padded over, breathing doggy breath into my face, then sat on my foot, a furry ton weight.

  “Aw, he likes you!”

  “Yeah, it’s, um, mutual. Can you get him off me? I can’t feel my foot.”

  He grabbed a handful of fur and tugged Oscar an inch, allowing me to wriggle my sandal free.

  He grinned, completely unabashed.

  “What’s your name, pretty girl?”

  I was slightly annoyed by his over-confidence, but decided I’d give him the benefit of the doubt. For now. But only because he was mind-bendingly hot, and his bare chest was stopping me from thinking straight.

  “Ava.”

  He smiled again, softer now.

  “So, Ava, can I buy you that frozen yogurt?”

  I nodded and stood up awkwardly, relieved when he pulled his t-shirt back on. Too much desirable male flesh was beginning to freak me out. It had been a while.

  Oscar huffed out a frustrated sigh, hauling himself upright again and plodding along behind us.

  “Shouldn’t you put him on a leash?”

  Cody laughed out loud, and I found myself smiling for no reason.

  “Nah. He’s too hot and tired to run off, aren’t you, fella?”

  Oscar gave a feeble wag of his tail, showing no inclination for anything livelier.

  “But they have leash laws.”

  “Are you going to report me?”

  I was stung. “No! Of course not! But somebody else might.”

  He glanced around.

  “Don’t think so. Most people around here know Oscar—they all know he’s harmless.”

  “How do you know so many people when you just moved here?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Who told you that?”

  My face flushed bright red, giving me away.

  “I haven’t seen you here before,” I said, with a lift of my chin.

  “Maybe you’re new,” he countered. “I haven’t seen you before yesterday either, and I think I’d have noticed.”

  “I’ve been here a month,” I defended.

  “So long?”

  He was laughing at me, which made me a little mad. Especially because I never got flustered around guys. Until now. The thought made me defensive.

  “I have to go,” and I turned around to leave.

  He laid a warm hand on my arm, making my skin tingle pleasantly.

  “Don’t go, Ava. I’m just messing with you. I’ll be good, I promise. So will Oscar. See, I’ll even put him on a leash.”

  He clipped a long red leash to Oscar’s collar. The beast raised his heavy head and stared at Cody, a wounded expression on his solemn face, then promptly laid down.

  “Come on, Oscar! Move!”

  Cody tugged at the leash, but the huge hunk of fur wouldn’t budge an inch.

  “I don’t think he likes being on a leash,” I said, trying not to laugh.

  Cody grinned at me.

  “Nope. Hates it.”

  “Will he move if you leave it on?”

  “Probably not…”

  I sighed, pretending to sound resigned.

  “I guess you’d better take it off then.”

  He winked at me, and unclipped the leash.

  Oscar grumbled under his breath then lurched to his feet again.

  “You’re a faker, my friend,” Cody said, rubbing the dog’s massive head. Oscar’s tongue lolled out of his mouth, giving the impression that he was smiling.

  We walked in silence for several minutes, and I wondered again what I was doing here.

  “How come you’re not working today?” Cody asked, eventually.

  I bristled instantly. That was a very sensitive subject.

  “How come you’re not?”

  He shrugged, but didn’t look at me.

  “I don’t want to work.”

  “That must be nice,” I said, waspishly.

  He grinned, amused by my sharpness.

  “Yeah, it’ll be great. I’m going to make a wish list of all the things I’ve ever wanted to do, and I’m going to do them all this summer.”

  I glanced at him to see if he was joking, but he looked serious.

  “What sort of things?”

  “Well, I haven’t written them down yet. But … I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo.”

  I couldn’t help looking at his perfect, unblemished skin, wondering how a tattoo would look.

  “Really? What would you get?”

  He pointed to his left shoulder. “A yin and yang symbol.”

  “Oh, I thought you’d get something tribal.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  I shrugged. “Those are popular, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess. But I want one that means something to me.”

  “So what does yin and yang mean to you? You don’t look Chinese.”

  He laughed again, flashing his perfect teeth at me. It must be nice to be so happy, I thought.

  “Not so as you’d notice. Nah, it’s about opposites interrelating, natural duality: light and dark, fire and water, sun and moon, male and female, life and death.” He smiled again. “And it’ll look cool.”

  I snorted and raised my eyebrows.

  “So you’d mark your skin permanently just to look cool?”

  “I can’t think of a better reason. Why, what would you get?”

  “I don’t think I want a tattoo—I’m scare
d of needles.”

  He tried not to smile, but failed. “Nah, you’ll be fine. I’ll hold your hand.”

  I blinked and looked away.

  “Come on, Ava,” he said, dropping his voice and upping the sexiness factor by ten. “I’ve shown you mine, so now you’ve got to show me yours. What tattoo would you get?”

  I took a deep breath to calm my raging hormones.

  “Well, in the extremely unlikely scenario that I’d get one at all, I’d get the astrological sign for Pisces, because my birthday is in March.”

  “Do you believe in all that shit?”

  He was annoying me again.

  “You’re allowed to have some far Eastern symbol for ‘duality’,” and I raised my hands to make air quotes, “but I’m not allowed to have my birth sign?”

  He shrugged and grinned, a small dimple popping up in his cheek. “Fine—you can have whatever tattoo you like. Where would you get it? On your…?” and he looked down at my butt.

  “No! On my wrist. So I could cover it up with my watchstrap if I wanted to.”

  He looked puzzled. “Why would you get a tattoo then cover it up.”

  Because my dad would go ape shit, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

  “Just so.”

  He raised his eyebrows and smiled, but didn’t push me.

  After he’d bought two frozen yogurts—and an orange ice for Oscar—we sat on the grass under the shade of a large mulberry tree to eat them.

  “What else have you got on your wish list?” I asked, as I licked my frozen yogurt (which was both delicious and addicting), and tried to ignore Oscar’s hopeful expression as he begged for mine, too.

  I caught Cody’s eyes flicking up from my mouth as I spoke, and I could have sworn that he blushed. So, I wasn’t the only one who was getting flustered! The thought pleased me too much. I needed to find a new job, not get involved with someone who couldn’t even be bothered to look for work, no matter how hot he was.

  He busied himself pulling a small notebook out his runner’s belt bag, and wrote the numbers one to 10 vertically. At number one he wrote:

  1. Get a tattoo.

  “What about you?” he questioned. “Is there anything you’ve always wanted to do?”

  I thought hard. There was one thing...

  “No, it’s silly.”

  “Go on,” he encouraged me, as I sat chewing my lip.

  “Well, I’ve had this thing about dolphins, ever since I saw Flipper. I’d love to go swimming with them; in the wild, if possible.”

  “Actually, that’s pretty cool,” he said, and made a note at the second point on his list.

  2. Swim with dolphins.

  “But that’s my wish, not yours!”

  “What? We can’t share the same wishes?”

  “Well, if you really want,” I said, smirking at him, “I give you permission to share my wish.”

  He winked, and then wrote something else on his list.

  “What did you put?”

  He angled the notebook toward me.

  3. Get drunk and high in Tijuana.

  “Seriously? That’s on your summer to-do list? That’s not very mature.”

  “Sure, why not? I’m a guy: we like to do stuff like that and I’ve never done it. Wanna come with me?”

  “No!” I said, immediately.

  He grinned. “I’ll work on you. You’ll say yes eventually.”

  I shook my head, but didn’t bother to argue.

  “Okay,” he said. “Your turn: add something to the list.”

  I thought for a moment, then wrote:

  4. Have a star named after me.

  He raised his eyebrows, looking impressed.

  “That’s a really good one. What made you think of it?”

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him because the reason was personal, but then again he’d shared his wish list with me, even if it was kind of silly so far.

  “My mom died when I was seven. I didn’t really understand what that meant; I just knew that she was gone. Dad told me she was in heaven with the stars, and when I looked up at night, I could see her twinkling for me. I know that sounds dumb, but I believed it at the time.”

  “It’s not dumb at all—it’s beautiful, Ava.”

  He spoke with such sincerity that I was a little embarrassed. I handed the notebook back to him.

  “Okay, your turn. Make another wish.”

  “Easy,” he said, writing rapidly.

  5. Ride through Monument Valley.

  “Really? Why do you want to do that.”

  He shrugged. “It’s just something that I’ve always imagined: being outdoors, not shut in surrounded by walls, somewhere really amazing. I used to watch Westerns with my dad when I was … when I was younger. It looked like an interesting place to go.”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “I can understand that. I’ve always wanted to go camping—sleep under the stars. My family never did anything like that. I didn’t even go to summer camp.”

  “That’s easy to fix,” he said, then wrote on the list:

  6. Sleep under the stars.

  “Maybe we could combine that with riding through Monument Valley?” he suggested.

  I shook my head and laughed.

  “I don’t think so!”

  “Why not?”

  “Because … because it makes no sense.”

  “I think it makes perfect sense,” he argued, a huge smile on his face. “We both get to do our wishes, and we don’t have to do them alone. It’ll be fun!”

  “You know, you’re kind of crazy. You don’t even know me!”

  “Well, you don’t look like a homicidal maniac.”

  “That’s what you think; I could have been yesterday.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  I was annoyed with myself for having brought it up.

  “Nothing. Forget about it. What else do you want to do?”

  He stared at me for a moment, frowning slightly, then let it go.

  “Oh yeah, the next one’s a good one.”

  7. Jump out of an airplane.

  I read it with a shudder.

  “You’ve got to be joking! Why would anyone jump out of a perfectly good airplane?”

  He smiled so wide, his dimple popped out again. It was very distracting.

  “If your chute opens, you know that God loves you.”

  “Yep, I was right the first time: you’re crazy.”

  He nudged the notebook towards me. “Your turn.”

  “Nope, I’m not putting anymore wishes on the crazy guy’s list.”

  He shook his head in mock sadness. “Well, I’ll just have to fill up all the spots by myself.”

  “Feel free,” I said, magnanimously.

  He wrote for a minute, then handed me the notebook.

  8. Meet a Native American medicine man.

  9. Help in a homeless shelter.

  10. Have sex on the beach.

  “What do you think?” he said, when I hadn’t spoken for half a minute.

  Truthfully, I was beginning to wonder if he had multiple personality disorder.

  “Um, interesting mix,” I said, as honestly as I could.

  I could tell he was disappointed by my lack of enthusiasm, so I tried to make light of it. “Sex on the beach is very unusual in California,” and I rolled my eyes to emphasize the sarcasm.

  He smiled, but I caught the glint of desire in his eyes as he returned my look.

  “Maybe, but I haven’t lived here very long.”

  “Yeah, right!” I scoffed. “You could walk into any bar you like and not go home alone!”

  He cocked his head to one side. “What makes you say that?”

  “Well, look at you! You’re hot and you’ve got that dimple—gotta tell you, bud, it’s all workin’ for ya!”

  His smile was surprisingly shy. “You think I’m hot?”

  “Hell, yeah!”

  He looked down at the list as if he was studying it.


  “So do you wanna?” he said, at last.

  “Want to what?” I asked, warily.

  “Do you want to do the list with me? I mean, not the sex on the beach thing, obviously. Unless you wanted to. Shit, that didn’t come out right. Um…”

  His cheeks were bright red, and it was my turn to laugh.

  “I’m not jumping out of an airplane either.”

  He looked up at me gleefully. “But you’ll do the rest?”

  “Maybe.”

  “That’s not a no.”

  “This is completely crazy! I don’t know the first thing about you, and you definitely don’t know me!”

  He shot me a sideways look. “Don’t you ever just want to say to hell with it? Take a risk once in a while?”

  God, yes! I was so sick of being sensible. And where had it gotten me? Fired from my first real chance at a job.

  I held out my hand and Cody took it, his face lighting up with delight.

  “But I’m still not jumping out of an airplane.”

  He laughed happily.

  “We’ll work up to that one, too.”

  My phone buzzed with a text message, waking me from a deep and satisfying sleep.

  I pulled the annoying gadget toward me and squinted at it with one eye.

  * Wake up, pretty girl! Number 2 on the list! *

  I sat up straight, suddenly wide awake. Oh God! What was number 2? I couldn’t remember—it better not be jump out of an airplane because there was no way I was doing that.

  My phone buzzed again.

  * Are you up yet? Flipper is waiting! *

  That got my attention. Oh wow! Number 2 was swim with dolphins!

  * Seriously? *

  * Yes! Text me your address. I’ll pick you up *

  I sent a quick reply then ran to the shower. By the time I came out, I had two more texts from Cody.

  * Wear a swimsuit *

  * I’m outside *

  God, I hoped this wasn’t a mistake. I’d given him my address, and I hardly knew the guy! Was this a date? We hadn’t discussed it, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

  I peeked out of the window with my towel wrapped tightly around me, and saw a dark blue Silverado pickup with white racing stripes. I’d never have figured Cody for something like that—it was more the sort of thing guys back home drove.

 

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