Ghost in His Eyes

by Carrie Aarons

  It had been a good week, one with no flukes or deep talks. I’d appreciated that, as a lot of our interactions had been heavy. It was bound to happen, after ten years and a sea of grief separated us. But now, if we were going to do this, I wanted to be able to function like a normal person again. Like a normal person who dates her high school sweetheart after ten years of blaming him for her brother’s death.

  Yeah, so maybe we weren’t normal, per se. But who was?

  Walking into the early morning light, I saw a pickup chugging down the road. Once he slowed and got closer, I could hear Brad Paisley’s “Alcohol” coming out of the speakers.

  “Isn’t it kind of early for this song? And what is this, tenth grade?” I made the comment as I helped myself to the passenger seat of the car.

  “It’s never too early for Brad Paisley or alcohol, and I’m trying to bring us back to the good times. Remember the first time you got drunk off of Twisted Teas at Mike Gernigan’s house?”

  Did I remember? I’d gotten on the coffee table and done a horrible rendition of “Pour Some Sugar On Me” while trying to jig or something. I wound up in Carson’s bathroom while he pleaded with me to keep my puking noises down or his parents would hear.

  “Don’t remind me. Or I’ll bring up some of the things you said when you were drunk.”

  Like the first time he told me he loved me, and I got so pissed at him that it wasn’t sober I made us act like he never said it. In reality, he was nervous as all hell and probably needed the liquid courage to pony up and tell me.

  “Did you sleep well? Dream about me?” He winked, laying his hand on my leg as he maneuvered us up and over the hills of sand.

  “You wish. How was work this week?” While we’d texted and emailed here and there, I still needed some space.

  Being a hermit for ten years will do that to you. I’d found, over time, that I liked my independence, wore it like a badge. Even though I now wanted to spend time with Carson, I still liked my solitude too. My big house in the middle of the beach, where I could be myself and keep living the way I had for the past four years.

  “It was good, just more of the same. We’re launching some marketing campaigns for the upcoming season, targeting those who have already rented houses here. We have this deal going with some of the rental websites to throw in a package deal for a tour. I think it’s going to work well.”

  I nod, because it’s smart. “That sounds fantastic. To be honest, I kind of like the buzz of summer season around here.”

  “And the queen in her castle admits she likes tourists. Wow, I never thought I’d live to see the day.” He tickled my side gently.

  “Oh shush, you jerk. I just know how beautiful this place is, and it likes to show off for visitors. And the horses seem to come alive when the tours start.”

  “Yeah well, tell your neighbors that.” Carson rolled his eyes.

  It didn’t escape my notice that some of the houses on the streets further away from mine didn’t want the horse tours to continue. They thought they were too disruptive and that they spoiled the peace of Carova.

  “I think the tours allow our tiny island to shine, and I’ll keep campaigning for them. And I’ll try to let people know that in any way I can.”

  His dark eyes lock onto mine as he slowly pulls the car to a stop. “I appreciate that.”

  I lace my fingers in his. “Are you stressed?”

  I asked because I could sense it.

  Carson sighs, and I see the tenseness in his shoulders. “I just want to live up to all of the expectations. I want the business to do well, to grow. It helps to come out here, to really see the good work we’re doing. Come on.”

  While he’s listened to me vent and tried to pry information out of me, I haven’t really tried to be there for Carson at all. I don’t know what he’s been doing the last ten years, or how he’s changed. Maybe I needed to stop being selfish and wallowing in my own problems, and look around to see that he had his own set of things that kept him on edge.

  The morning is crisp and sunny, the perfect day for a walk through the trees.

  “Do you think we’ll see a lot of the horses?” I ask because he is the expert, and because I want to hear more of that deep, rough voice.

  Carson’s voice is addicting, like sweet whiskey poured into hot apple cider. It’s rich, with texture, and something I want to sip on all day.

  “It’s a nice morning, hasn’t rained recently so the ground is good terrain. They can probably sense it will be one of the better days before we head into the colder days of winter. So I think so. But you never know with these ones. They’re wild after all.”

  He looked at me when he said wild, and I could feel the blush creep into my cheeks. We walked along, observing the trees that stood like skyscrapers over our heads. The brush crunched beneath our feet, and every once in a while, Carson would write something down in a small journal.

  About fifteen minutes into our walk, we spotted the first cluster of horses. One large black one, the male, stood in the middle as four mature female horses and three smaller foals surrounded him. Whichever way he turned, they followed. If he took a step, they were right behind him.

  “He’s the leader of their group, he provides for them,” Carson explains to me in a low voice.

  “I know that. I’ve lived with them a lot longer than you have. And I also know that if he doesn’t provide for them, or if another male can show power over him, they’ll leave him for another harem.”

  I raised an eyebrow and Carson looked at me, getting the meaning behind my words.

  “I get it, you’re wild and I can’t tame you. But I was never trying to tame you, Blake. I simply wanted to be the one you chose to have run by your side.”

  His words melt one of the ice chips still surrounding my heart, and I reach for his hand to show him that.

  “I’d like to try that.”

  Carson lifts our joined hands up to his mouth and slowly kisses my knuckles before lowering it. “Let’s keep going.”

  With our footsteps falling in rhythm, we hiked through the forest and out onto the edge of the bay. The water glistened under the sun’s rays, the place that I called home looking completely different as I walked it with Carson.

  “Do you still like to go down to the beach at night and …” Carson trails off, and I know from the twinkle in his eye what is he thinking.

  Clearing my throat, I smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  A grunt sounds from next to me. “You have no idea how much I want to know. I’ve thought about that great butt, bouncing as you ran across the sand into the water.”

  My core flushed and the center of my sex clenched. When we were teenagers, we used to love to sneak out and skinny dip in the ocean. There were so many endless summer nights I remember being wrapped in his arms as a wave crashed over us, not even coming close to breaking up our kiss.

  After we sit down and eat some snacks and take a break, we carry on for a few more hours. Carson catalogues information in his notebook, and I take some photos of the horses for graphic ideas.

  By about four thirty, we’re both tired and ready to collapse into the car seats.

  “Will you come somewhere with me?” He turns his head, his eyes tired.

  It could be nothing, or it could be what I’m thinking. Either way, I want to go. He’s accused me of losing my wild streak, of not being spontaneous anymore. I may have grown up, but I still want to be that girl with the wind in her hair.

  “Anywhere.”

  22

  Carson

  The house is a ranch, an older model beach house with windows that overlook the ocean. It isn’t flashy new construction, and it’s not on the best plot of beach. But to me, it’s perfect.

  Two bedrooms and two and a half baths, a kitchen that was designed in the nineteen eighties, and a deck that you could see the tide from. It was everything I’d wanted when I moved back, and now I had it.

  Well, I was renting it. When
you’d gone to school for the last nine years, it was kind of hard to work towards any kind of savings. And I wasn’t about to take my parent’s money to buy a house, although they’d offered. No, I was happy to rent my little beach hut and live off Goodwill furniture. I wasn’t fancy, I didn’t need much else.

  “What is this place?” Blake questions me as we get out of the car.

  The sunlight is turning orange and pink with the night hour, and she looks like a beautiful painting against the sky.

  “This, pretty girl, is my rental house.” I beam proudly at the ranch that is missing some tiles on the roof.

  She laughs, clapping her hands. “I always knew you were a surfer dude. Living in some old ranch out in the middle of the beach. And in Duck no less! You would.”

  Duck was the town just south of Corolla, and one that was very much filled with tourists. But this strip of beach barely had any houses on it, and I’d likely be the only year-round resident. I kind of liked it that way.

  “Come into my humble abode.” I took her hand and pulled her toward the front door.

  She giggled and it was like music to my ears. Unlocking the front door, which stuck a little but I’d fix it, I didn’t let go of her hand as we stepped over the threshold.

  Giving her the tour, I took her around to see the shabby decor. I had one old couch in the living room that faced a small TV propped up on a dinner tray. In the kitchen was a mismatched set of table and chairs. I was eating off of paper plates and plastic silverware as I hadn’t been able to buy anything of the sort yet.

  When we got to my bedroom, I opened the door.

  “How bachelor of you.” Blake crooked an eyebrow at me and walked in to sit on my mattress on the floor. “Hey, it’s still pretty comfortable.”

  She looked like an angel, sitting on the edge of my mattress, my white comforter and sheets tossed from my sleep the night before. Her blond hair was wind-swept and up in a ponytail, the edges of her face framed with small wisps of it. Her face, bare of makeup, was so natural and beautiful that it almost hurt me to look at her.

  I couldn’t help what happened next. Moving slowly, and keeping my eyes locked on her, I sank down to where she sat.

  And leaned her back, covering my body with hers.

  At the same time, I mold my mouth over her own, nibbling at her lips, feasting on their cherry taste. Her moan is my reward, vibrating on my tongue and down my spine straight to my groin.

  It seems like eons since I’ve held her this close, since my heart has felt this heavy with happiness and desire. She twines her arms around my neck, gently tugging at my hair. Her tongue does the most erotic dance with mine, and suddenly, my clothes feel too suffocating.

  But I need to see her.

  “I want to see you. All of you.” I move my hand down to the zipper of her fleece, hesitating as if I’m asking permission.

  Blake gulps, and nods.

  With slow precision, and agony to my thickening tool, I pull it down. Stripping that off of her, I start on her long sleeve shirt.

  I make an art form of undressing her, layer by layer peeling back the walls we’ve put up between one another. With each article of clothing removed, Blake’s breathing picks up. With every kiss of my lips on a new piece of skin, her body squirms.

  Here, in the dark, we can start over. In this house that holds no memories for us, we can create new ones.

  She matches my pace, taking off the clothes that hinder my passion for her. There is a wild, vibrant energy surrounding us, trapping us in a bubble of lust and intimacy.

  “There are no words to describe how beautiful you are. Beautiful is not even a word that should apply to you, because you are so much more.”

  I breathe the words as I take her in, all of that creamy skin, vulnerable and nude for my eyes only. Our eyes clash, and I see her giving me all permissions. The gift of her trust is even more special than the gift of her body, and I swallow thinking about how big this responsibility is. But this time, I will hold on to it even if it kills me.

  I make love to her body with my lips and teeth, pausing to explore every inch of her. “It’s been too long. I’m a starving man when it comes to you.”

  “Yes, Carson. I need you … there.” Her eyes hold a plea.

  And I answer it willingly. My body, the air hitting my hardness and making me hiss, moves down to the apex of her thighs. And when I dip my tongue in for that first glorious lick, I nearly pass out from the shock of it. She tastes like my prayers, the memories of my past, and the hope of the future.

  I work her, listening to her moans and mutters, the way she chants my name like it’s the only word she knows.

  “Let go, Blake. Let me feel everything you have for me.” I repeat the words she always needed to hear to lose herself in the past, and she comes undone.

  She’s the most gorgeous, ethereal being as she drowns in her orgasm, her hands gripping at the white sheets. I catalogue it in my brain, memorize the look on her face so I can think about it in my dreams for a lifetime.

  “I waited so long, so long for you,” she whispers quietly, a tear in her eye when I cover her with my body again.

  “I’m here now. We’re here now. I’m never letting you go again.” I cradle her head, searching her eyes like I’ll find the meaning of life.

  And maybe I will. Since she gives my life the only meaning it needs.

  “I’m sorry it took me so long …” She stroked a hand over my jaw.

  “Shh. None of that now. Because … I love you.”

  I don’t give her a chance to answer me with her own declaration, because I don’t want to hear it in this moment. I want to see it. I want to make love to her, with her. I want to prove that my love never died, that the torch in my heart has always been slowly burning for her.

  I push my hips in, my rigid length being swallowed by her raw heat. I was blinded with love and desire, Blake the only thing standing out in my vision.

  Sensation fueled me as I stroked in and out of her slickness, her moans and fingers running down my back the only affirmation I needed.

  When she lost herself again, clinging to me like the lifeboat in stormy seas, I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

  My release shoots through me like a tsunami, rolling over my body in vicious waves.

  We drown in each other, swimming through the ecstasy that we’d been missing for years. And finally, even through the emotion clogging my lungs, I can breathe again.

  23

  Blake

  Joel runs past my room, yelling about finding his boutonnière.

  “It’s in the fridge, where I put my corsage too.” I yell, running the curling iron through one of the last pieces of my hair.

  “Dude couldn’t even bring you a corsage, do I need to whoop his ass?” My brother appeared in my doorway, his button-up already rumpled.

  “No, he paid for it, I just happened to be picking both of yours up and said I’d get it. Because I’m a nice girlfriend.” I stuck my tongue out as I combed my curls out, making them just so.

  I wasn’t usually an overly girly-girl, but this was a school dance and I wanted to look nice. I’d bought a black dress that I thought I looked sexy but modest in, I’d bought new eyeshadow, and I’d spent forty minutes turning my straight hair into a voluminous piece of art.

  “Well, you just let me know if he’s misbehaving, I’ll kill him.” My brother steps in and kisses my cheek, his Axe cologne making me choke.

  I didn’t tell him that Carson decided to tell me he loved me for the first time when he was drunk at a party last weekend. Joel would have been pissed about that, but not as pissed as I was. He probably would have understood his best friend’s excuse that he needed the beer to be completely upfront and honest.

  I was hurt by that; couldn’t he just tell me how he felt? I was his girlfriend. He could tell me anything without reservation.

  But tonight I was trying to put it past me. I liked the homecoming dance, and it would be our second year going to
gether. As sophomores, we were a little wiser, a little higher up on the food chain.

  And my stomach fluttered at the idea of being on Carson’s arm. Just last week, one of the girls in our grade had tried to flirt with him in gym class. I’d been stupid blind with jealousy, until he’d come up and French kissed me in front of the whole volleyball class. It might have gotten him reprimanded by the teacher, but it was so worth it.

  Thinking about dancing in his arms all night makes my stomach dip in anticipation.

  “Bro! Love that tie.” I hear Joel yelling again from down the hall, and I close my door, not wanting Carson to see me until I was ready.

  Checking my hair and makeup, I decide I’m satisfied and move to the bed where my dress lays. I’d already picked out the perfect underwear and bra and put them on. Bending over, I placed my feet into the small black heels that were the only pair I owned. And then, the final touch, I pulled the black dress over my head. Smoothing it in all the right places, I finally opened the door.

  My boyfriend leaned against the wall across the hall from my door, his wavy brown hair almost falling in his eyes. Navy suit pants covered his long legs, a white button down tucked into them, and a yellow tie with navy sailboats was knotted around his neck. He looked handsome, and I wanted to kiss him immediately.

  “Wow.” His gaze raked over my body.

  My skin was on fire under his stare, and that tingling that had started to happen between my legs was there again.

  “I like the sailboats.” I walked to him, my heels clicking a bit.

  Pushing off, he met me halfway and kissed me, our lips meeting in a sweet embrace.

  “You ready to dance?” He did a little mambo, which made me laugh.

  “Yes, let’s go, you corny nut.”

  We walked into the kitchen, where Dad was pinning the flower on Joel’s shirt.

  “Why aren’t you going with someone, Joel?” Dad asked him.