by Tess Oliver
28
Shay had twisted her hair up into a loose knot. She'd pulled on a t-shirt and shorts. She knelt in the sand as she took the sandwiches out of the cooler and placed them on plates on the blanket. We'd stuck our shoes on the corners of the blanket to keep everything from being picked up and carried away with the breeze. The Santa Ana winds had brought another day of summer like weather. On the drive home from the cemetery, Shay had suggested a picnic on the beach. Frankly, I could have sat in a cold, dark room for the rest of the day as long as she was by my side.
The moment she took hold of my hand at the gravesite, my chest tightened. I wanted her. I wanted Shay in my life. She knew exactly what to say and do to make me feel less like my dad's creation and more like a member of the human race. I'd devised the plan, sure that if I subjected myself to temptation and forced myself to deny that temptation, I would eventually subdue my insatiable need for meaningless sex. But the more I reflected on the last few out of control years of my life, the more I wondered if I was driven only by physical urges. I'd always figured the stream of women was my way of proving that I was in control of my own life and my dad no longer had a say. But being with Shay had opened up the possibility that I'd been trying prove to myself that I was just as tenacious and strong-willed as my dad and that I didn't need any form of emotional attachment either. But it seemed my plan had backfired big time. It seemed I needed that attachment. Only Shay wasn't sitting with me because she chose me or found me worth being with. She was there because of a stupid contract, a contract that would eventually end. Then she'd drive off with a check, heading far away to her new life in Alta Dena.
Shay pushed the bangs out of her eyes and took a bite of her sandwich as she stared out at the ocean. I could easily look at her all damn day and not do anything else except watch her eat and look at seagulls as she struggled to keep the hair out of her eyes.
She smiled over at me and pointed to the sandwich on my plate. "Aren't you going to eat? You were right. That's a good deli. Just enough mayonnaise."
"I'll eat in a minute. I'm just having too good of a time watching you."
She spun around on her bottom to face me. "I guess that's pretty wild knowing that you have a mom now. Like she just popped up from a wish. I can't tell you how often I wished for my mom to come back, to just appear alive and well at the door. I would be sitting at my wretched grandmother's kitchen table doing homework, listening to her rattle on about what a useless, spoiled brat I was, and I'd close my eyes and say, please, Mom, just swim back to me."
"I had a lot of those days too. It does feel strange knowing that my mom's been out there all along. I dreamt up all kinds of stories about where she went after she dropped me in my dad's arms. My favorite was that she was a famous archaeologist digging around in Egypt, looking for lost pharaoh tombs."
Shay laughed. "You never know. Maybe once you get to know her, you'll find out she was doing exactly that."
"Shay, thanks for being there today. I was glad you came. I'm not close to many people, but everything seems so natural between us, I feel like we've known each other forever."
She nodded. "Thank you for wanting me to come along. I was glad I went."
It occurred to me that since I'd spent most of my time in fleeting relationships where the physical connection was all that mattered, I'd never learned how to read what a woman was thinking, unless the thoughts were where to be touched or spanked or kissed. It was jackass of me to think that I was having any effect on Shay's life other than making her not have to worry as much about money. One thing was certain, she was having a huge effect on my life, and most of it had nothing to do with my insatiable sex drive.
Shay broke up the sandwich crust she was holding and looked out toward the water. Most of the seagulls were floating in the tide close to shore. She pulled off her sandals. "I think I'll go down there and surprise my feathered friends with some bread crust." She stood up and brushed off the sand before strolling down to the water.
There was less than a week left, and I still hadn't had my fill of her. Even if those erotic moments together had been virtual reality with no physical contact, I wanted more. I wanted to see her stretched out on my bed again, looking at me with glazed brown eyes as she reached orgasm. I had no idea how well my crazy ass plan had worked, but I knew one thing for damn sure—I hadn't thought about any other woman since Shay walked into my life.
"The water looks so clear," she called from the shore. "I'm going to brave the cold and wade in."
"Watch the riptide." I leaned back on my elbows to watch.
Shay stepped gingerly through the frothy white water lapping over the wet sand at the water's edge. Her laugh bounced up toward me as she kicked at the water, spraying the seagulls she had just fed. Something told me I was going to throw myself headlong into work just to keep my mind off the girl in the water once she left. In that sense, the plan was a success.
Shay waded out farther.
I sat up and cupped my hands to trumpet my voice. "There's a sand bar just a few feet out from there. Be careful."
Shay swung around, trying to catch what I was saying. As she did, a higher than usual wave knocked her down. Another followed close on its tail. Shay disappeared beneath the surface.
There was only fifty feet of sand between me and the water, but it felt like fifty miles. My heart raced so fast it seemed stuck in one long beat. My feet were plowing through the sand like tractor tires, but each step felt weighted down. I reached the water's edge and stomped into the shallow tide.
I searched the water looking for her blonde hair or the blue shirt she was wearing or signs of someone struggling to surface. "Shay! Fuck. Fuck. Shay!"
I dove under and swam in the direction the tide was pulling. The water near the shore was just turbulent enough to screw with underwater visibility.
I popped my head up and yelled her name with my first breath. There was no answer, no sign of her. Adrenaline tensed every muscle in my body as I swam through the waves, salt water slapping me hard in my face as I searched frantically around for her. The tide was pulling hard to the left, which meant anything floating in the water would move that direction too. I swam underwater, my eyes staying wide open in the stinging salt water as my head moved side to side searching the darkness.
And then a flash of light. Hair. It was Shay's silvery white hair picking up the sunlight from above. She floated lifelessly, her limbs curled in different directions as her head bowed down toward the sea floor.
I shot through the water like a torpedo and finally took a much needed breath when I had her in my arms. I couldn't even remember the swim to shore.
As I carried Shay out of the water, I held her tightly against me and rubbed her back hard with my hand. "Come on, Shay. We're back on land. Talk to me, baby."
I lowered her limp body to the sand. Her eyes were closed and a trickle of sandy water streamed from her mouth. I turned her to the side and more water streamed out. Then I rolled her back over and squeezed her mouth. I lowered my mouth to hers. Before I could push one breath into her, a light cough puffed out of her mouth. I turned her quickly to her side. She coughed and sputtered the sandy water from her throat.
I rubbed her back. "That's it. You've got it. Breathe through your nose."
Slowly the coughing fit subsided. Shay rolled onto her back on her own. She stared up at me, slightly bewildered.
"Holy shit, I think I just aged ten years, Shay. You scared the hell out of me. How do you feel?" It struck me then that she had been unconscious and without oxygen. "Do you know my name?"
"You're David Nash Archer . . ." She reached up and rubbed her fingers along the stubble on my chin. "And you kissed me."
"Nah, that wasn't a kiss," I protested. "This is a kiss." I leaned down over her and pressed my mouth hard against hers.
29
I held Shay's hand tightly, deciding I was never going to let her go as we hurried back up to the house. She was wet and cold and slightly shaken
, but not nearly as shaken as me.
I slid open the door and led her inside. I turned to her. "Fuck, you beautiful damn angel, I'm so glad you're standing here with me. You scared me to death." I grabbed her face between my hands and kissed her again. I ran my tongue across her bottom lip. "Hmm, you taste saltier than I imagined."
"Something tells me that's not the only part of me that's saltier than you imagined." She wrapped her arm around my neck and pulled my mouth back down to hers. My arms circled around her body, her wet clothes were cold and clammy to the touch. The slightest shiver went through her.
I could hardly part my mouth from hers. "I would love to think that I'm the cause of that tremor, but I think we need to get you into a hot shower."
"Yes, I suppose so. Or we could just . . ." Again, she threw her arms around my neck and this time her legs followed. Our mouths locked tightly together as I carried her down the hallway. I kicked the bedroom door open with my foot and carried her, still deep in a kiss, into the room.
I set her down on the edge of the bed. "We need to get you out of those wet clothes."
She yanked off the shirt and tossed it onto the floor. Her creamy skin was pink from the cold water. There were still smudges of sand on her face as she peered up at me through her wet bangs. She unfastened the button on her pants as she smiled up at me.
It was almost too much. I had to keep myself in check or risk scaring her off by acting like a ravenous beast. But after not being able to touch her for ten days, all the while wanting her more than I'd ever wanted anyone in my life, mixed with the rush of adrenaline thinking I'd lost her, I was ready to shake off every ounce of control and devour her.
"God, Shay, you are something else." I could barely get the words out. Every muscle in my body was tight as I held myself back. I knelt down in front of the bed like a gentleman, but my thoughts were anything but polite. The slow, difficult task of wriggling off a pair of wet shorts nearly caused me to break my teeth between a clenched jaw.
Shay leaned back on her elbows, still cold and slightly dazed as she waited for me to pull the shorts free. I got up on my knees and sat between her thighs to gaze at her body, clad only in a sheer bra and panties.
I lowered my mouth to her thigh and ran a trail of kisses up toward her pussy. She inhaled sharply in anticipation as I curled my fingers around the lace of her panties. I lifted my gaze to her face and ripped the lacy string apart, before yanking the wet panties free.
I pushed my shorts to the ground. My cock sprang free, hard with hot rage at being neglected for so long. Shay scooted back and reached her hand out to me. I took hold of it and kissed it as I knelt between her legs. I could hear every beat of my heart in my ears.
I swallowed hard. "I'm trying to pace myself," I warned.
"Don't."
I leaned down over her, pressing my swollen cock against her belly as I kissed her mouth and her long neck. "You are worth every fucking dollar of a million bucks," I muttered against her skin.
Her body deflated beneath me. The urgency she'd met me with vanished and she turned her face away from my mouth. "Off, please. Get off."
I backed away, confused and feeling as if someone had just punched me in the gut. The second I was off and standing on the floor, Shay curled onto her side and crawled quickly off the bed.
"What am I doing?" she sobbed.
"Shay, what's wrong? I don't understand."
She stopped at my door, her wet clothes grasped in her hands and shielding her naked body. "What was I thinking?" Another sob left her lips. "I spent so much time telling myself that this was fine, that I wasn't a whore. That it was business and I would be financially set up and never dependent on anyone again. And then there's you and you said"—she dropped her already husky voice lower to imitate mine—"trust me there's not a damn thing that's loveable about me." Her shoulders jerked with another sob. "And it turns out, I'm not just a whore but the world's most expensive one." She ran down the hallway and into her room, slamming the door shut behind her.
30
I walked into the shower. It was good and cold, but it wasn't going to cool the heat in my body anytime soon. I decided to give Shay some time to figure out what she wanted to do. In turn, it gave me time to know what to say to her without making things worse. She had every right to hate me. I had only been thinking of my own needs when I came up with the stupid plan. I'd used her without any regard as to how the whole fucking thing would affect her. I figured she'd be walking away with a nice sum of money, but I'd forgotten to factor in that she was human, with a soul, a human soul. Something it seemed I'd lacked . . . until now. And when Shay walked out of my life, which she surely would, she'd be taking a big part of that newly found soul with her. My heart would be thrown into the mix as well. A heart I barely knew I had but that I'd found through the simplest everyday events, like watching Shay make sure to butter every bit of her toast to the edges and then she always finished the ritual by licking her fingertip. Or watching her wrinkle her nose at an unfunny comedy show or the way she nibbled on an apple while deeply enthralled in a book. And then there was the way she walked and talked and laughed and scoffed and even argued. Even her temper was fucking adorable.
In her distress, she had rambled some, making it hard for me to follow her line of thinking. But she'd brought up my own moment of scoffing when I assured her she would never fall in love with a jerk like me. Was it possible she had fallen for me in some degree? I'd never even considered it because deep down I knew I was my father's son, great at business but wholly unlikeable as a human. I'd fed my needs with money, business successes and non-stop sex and that had left me feeling incomplete and worthless. Shay had helped me see some light in my darkly empty existence.
And that was what I would tell her. I would make it clear as day that she had changed me. It was no longer about lust, or nefarious contracts, or reaching physical limits. It was about a connection that I'd never had and one I hadn't ever expected. In a week and a half, Shay had helped make me a better man.
I finished the shower and dried off. The house was quiet. I concluded Shay had showered and climbed into bed. She'd come dangerously close to drowning, dangerously close to dying the same way her mother had, a nightmarish end that I was certain had haunted Shay her whole life. And selfish ass that I was, I tried immediately to take advantage of her shaken state by taking her to bed. I was an idiot.
I pulled on my clothes and walked out into the hallway. I considered letting her nap, but there was just too much I needed to say. I walked to her door and knocked. No answer.
I leaned my forehead against the door. "Shay, I need to talk to you." No answer. I headed toward the living room, deciding to let her sleep.
I turned toward the kitchen and headed to the refrigerator for a beer. Our blanket and picnic were still out on the sand, now overrun by a flock of seagulls who had decimated all the food. I chugged back some beer and spun around to head out to the beach to retrieve what was left of the picnic. As my eyes grazed past the kitchen window, something was different. My gaze shot back to the window and out to the driveway. Shay's car was gone.
I raced down the hallway and threw open the bedroom door. Her few belongings had been packed up and taken away. She'd straightened up the room and bed as if she had never been in the house. A piece of paper was sitting on the bed. Her pretty handwriting stared back at me.
* * *
I'm sorry this came apart so quickly, but then maybe it was only held together by frail strings in the first place. I hope I helped you some with your problem. For what it's worth, you are far more genuine than you give yourself credit for. Thank you for one of the best weeks of my life. Love, Shay.
* * *
I FOLDED the paper and held it tightly in my grasp as I walked to the window and stared out. With every edible crumb gone, the gulls had finally deserted the blanket on the sand. My heart raced again as the few terrifying moments in the water came back to me. The day ended badly, but it could have en
ded much worse.
It looked like I was alone again. Loneliness was something I'd grown up with, something I'd grown used to. I'd even taken a crazy amount of comfort in being alone. But now that I'd had Shay in my life, now that I'd felt what it was like to be with someone who I wanted to spend every minute with, loneliness was going to feel like a hopeless, dark hole in the pit of my stomach.
31
I walked through the house with the shoebox under my arm. Without him, it was no longer the house I grew up in. It was just a massive, cavernous building with lots of rooms and a double staircase that sat like a giant zipper to bring the two wings of the house together. Sheffield was sitting at the dining room table, finishing up paperwork and waiting for me to bring down the list of things I wanted.
He looked up over his narrow eyeglasses. "You can't be finished already? Don't forget your dad's study. There are a few sculptures in there that are worth a hundred thousand each. That one of George Washington—"
I held up the shoebox of old pictures. "I've got what I need. Everything else can be auctioned off for the cancer charity."
His double chins warbled as his mouth dropped open. "That's a shoebox."
"Yes and it's filled with faded old pictures of my dad and his parents, my grandparents. This is all I need. I've got someplace to be, if you could lock up."
He pushed up from his chair and followed me to the entryway. "Nash, there are pictures in this house that are worth more than most people make in a lifetime."
I stopped and looked at him. "And I already have more than I can spend in my lifetime. Please, James." I tapped the box. "This is all I want. Call me if you need anything else." I headed down the steps and walked to the car.
It had been two weeks since Shay walked out of my life, and I'd thought of little else. She'd fled in her house on wheels and she'd left no address. And, in my usual egocentric state of mind , I'd never asked if she had a phone. I had no way to contact her. For the first few days, I wandered the house, convinced that it was for the best. She knew where I lived but, she never returned. She was obviously not missing me at all. And I was the last thing she needed in her life. But if nothing else, I needed to pay her money. She'd left with nothing, and she'd quit her job to help me. I worried she was still living in her shitty car. The streak of jealousy I couldn't contain when it came to Shay had given me a clue about where I might find her.
