“Design?” She swallowed. Heeling around in the hard-packed ground, she stared at the store. “I’ve always wanted a tattoo.”
“Is that so?” his voice tumbled into a playful timbre.
“Will it hurt?”
Drake had three tattoos, one on his left shoulder, one on his left shoulder blade and one on his left upper arm.
“Depends where you put it.”
Suddenly she was nervous of what he intended inking permanently on his body. “Drake?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Can I watch?”
He gave her a sly grin. “Depends,” he said again.
“On what?”
He chewed the inside of his cheek. “If the woman I’m falling in love with feels the same way about me.”
She stepped up to him and tilted her head back, staring into his ocean green eyes. With a serious expression, she said, “Of course I do, why else would I be thinking of tattooing your name on my butt?”
A slow dopey grin covered both their faces. “I love you, sweetheart.” He picked her up and squeezed her. “God, I love you so damn much.”
“Captain, you’re steering my heart, but you better not laugh at me if it hurts and I cry.”
“Promise. I’ll be right there with you.”
Three hours later they emerged from the shop. Drake had held her hand and wiped away a couple tears that leaked out. He didn’t allow her to get the tat on her ass and said she needed a tramp stamp that he could kiss and work his way in all directions, especially south. The tattoo artist chuckled, and she flushed ten shades of red.
An intricate ship’s wheel with an old compass in the center and a rope sweeping through the spokes sat at the base of her spine. Drake looked a little panicked and tried to dissuade her when she told the tattoo artist to ink in his name. Maybe she was crazy, but it didn’t matter whether or not they stayed in love. They were now.
The artist transferred the design he’d created over Drake’s heart. Her heart swelled seeing a sun sinking into the sea and ‘Always Twilight’ scripted within the waves. After picking up a few groceries, they returned to the cottage on the beach. Drake contacted his parents and said they wouldn’t be back for three days. Three whole days! She wanted to twirl like a ballerina.
They walked on the beach and made candlelight dinners together. Their love making wasn’t feverish anymore. Drake loved her with an intimacy and depth he’d never shown her, and left her bones weak and her heart bursting.
On their last night, she cuddled him with her nose pressed into his neck, memorizing his scent and the incredible time they had. As she drifted off to sleep, he whispered in her ear. “I’m going to love you forever, Twila. I didn’t expect it, but I can’t stop.”
“Good, because the quiet girl on the sidelines loves her boyfriend with all her heart.”
“Close your eyes and sail off into the horizon. I’ll be waiting there for you.” His lips pressed a warm, gentle kiss on her mouth. “Always, Twila,” he said, his warm breath brushing the skin on her cheek, and he closed his eyes.
Chapter Sixteen
Her alarm clock rang at seven, and she rolled over slamming the snooze button. She sighed, closing her eyes, wanting to be back in Freeport with the man who loved her. She smiled and hugged her pillow for five more glorious minutes.
Once every two weeks, she helped some of the residents who couldn’t clean their homes. They existed on social security and couldn’t afford someone to help them. Nothing overly taxing, just washing a floor or cleaning a bathroom. Mr. Martin Craighorn lived next to Becka and Gordon, and she’d start there this morning.
Twila worked in the kitchen, while Mr. Craighorn read in his Lazy-boy. She popped around the corner. “Why don’t you take a little walk, Martin? It’s a beautiful fall day.
He looked up from his book, his glasses perched on the end of his nose and his head of thick white hair a tussled mess.
“You think I need a little exercise, eh, Twila?”
“Couldn’t hurt. You sit in that chair far too much. While you’re gone, I’m going to wash your kitchen floor. Where did you hide the floor soap? I’ve looked under the sink.”
He snapped his fingers. “I forgot to pick that up the last time I went to town.”
“No worries, I’ll run over to Becka’s. She’s got some I can borrow.”
“Thanks, Twila. Maybe I’ll grab my cane and go for a stroll.”
She smiled and crossed the living room to give him a hand out of his chair. “Leave the door unlocked, I’ll be back soon,” she said. She watched him shuffle to his bedroom.
She trotted next door. “Hiya, Becka, Martin is out of floor wash, could I use some of yours?” she asked, swinging the pale in her right hand.
Becka stepped back. “Sure, come on in, darling. You know where it is.”
Becka followed her into the small laundry room with space for a stacked washer dryer combo and a sink. Twila retrieved the soap from the cabinet and poured in a capful. Her mind wandered as she filled the bucket with water.
“He’s in the shower,” Becka said, leaning against the dryer, answering her thoughts.
She turned a look over her shoulder as someone knocked at the front door.
“I’ll get it, hun,” Gordon yelled out.
Twila finished filling the bucket and heaved it out of the sink. She shuffled into the entry with Becka behind her. At the same time, Drake appeared from the bathroom. Toweling his wet hair, wearing a pair of surfer shorts, a cool shot of desire streaked through her. Up close and personal, she saw every firm muscle on Drake’s six-pack. His shoulders moved like molded steal as he rubbed the towel over his head. Hearing voices, he dropped it and saw her.
“Hey, good morning,” he said, a smile broadening his rigid jaw.
“What’s wrong, Gordon?” Becka asked, drawing her attention to the door. Martin stood there and both he and Gordon’s expression were taut with unease.
“I just talked to Bill Williams a second ago,” Martin said. “It’s Jake Detwieller. He fell coming out of his trailer this morning. Broke his hip and hit his head on the pavement. He passed away a few minutes ago.
Tears welled in her eyes. The bucket dropped to the floor, her heart squeezing tight, numbing her to the core.
Martin turned his aging eyes on her. “Honey, I know you told him to put in a ramp so many times, but he was a stubborn old fool.”
“Twila?”
Drake’s hand gripped her shoulder, but she barely felt it. She ran from the house, down the road and across the park as fast as she could. No matter how fast she ran, the grief still kept up with her. She reached Mr. Detwieller’s trailer and walked up his driveway. Torn bits of paper from bandages and an abandoned hose the paramedics used on him lay strewn about. A small dried pool of blood near the step leading into his trailer turned her stomach. She knelt down beside it and cried.
* * * *
“Twila,” Drake shouted, and bolted after her, but his father put an arm out before he reached the door.
“Don’t son, leave her be.”
“What are you talking about? She’s upset.”
“Drake, listen to your father. Twila doesn’t do very well when one of the residents passes away. I don’t know if it’s because it’s too close to her own mother’s passing or if she just feels responsible for all of us. Maybe a bit of both, but she takes it to heart. She just needs a little time to gather her thoughts,” his mother said.
“Bullshit. If she needs to cry, she can do it in my arms.”
Drake tossed his towel on the credenza, and headed out the door to find her. Where would she go? He ran full out to her trailer, but she wasn’t there unless she wasn’t answering the door. He got his breath back pacing the front lawn with his hands on his hips. Then he figured it out and put it into a run.
As he reached Mr. Detwieller’s place, he saw her on her knees by the doorstep. Her shoulders shook with heavy sobs and it broke his heart. He hunched down beside he
r.
“Sweetheart, it’s not your fault.” He wrapped his arms around her, and she melted against him. Resting his chin on her head, he let her cry it out. When her tears finally eased, he tilted his head to look at her. “Sweetheart, you can’t be there for them all the time. I know you do your very best to help them, but you can’t save them all.”
“I should have insisted he put in the ramp.” She snuffled and wiped her tears.
“Come on.” He helped her to her feet and hung on to her. “I know you love them, and your heart is big enough to keep giving, but you know as well as I do, they’re going to pass. It’s sad, but it happens.” He hugged her to his chest and rocked her a little. “He’s not in pain. He’s not lingering in a hospital. It’s over, sweetheart.” He kissed her and squeezed his eyes shut. One day he would know the same grief when his parents left this world. He didn’t relish the thought, and he knew that the one left behind would grieve until they were gone.
“I’m going to go home,” she said in weak voice.
He shook his head. “No, we’re going to take the Rebecca and sail straight into the horizon. I’m going to hold you until the hurt is gone, and we’ll say our goodbyes to Mr. Detwieller. He was a good old boy. Gave his entire life to the Navy. I have a lot of respect for that.” She didn’t argue, and they walked back to his place, his arm never loosening from her shoulders.
As they got closer to his parent’s trailer, he nearly groaned out loud seeing Heather’s Vet sitting in the driveway. With a barracuda’s sixth sense, Heather turned and saw them.
Heather met them in the road, her hands draped at her sides looking more like a gunslinger at high noon than a model. “What’s this all about?”
“Not now, Heather, we’ll talk later.”
Swinging a hateful gaze over Twila, she dismissed her and turned her anger on him.
“I was mad at you, but I forgive you now,” she said.
The tight skirt she wore barely hid her sex. More than likely she wasn’t wearing underwear. At one time it might have turned him on, until Heather unveiled the woman she was and that did nothing but turn him off.
“We can talk now, if you would kindly scrape that off of you,” she said, referring to Twila.
“You want this now. No problem.” Twila kept walking, but he stopped to faceoff with Heather. “We’ve hit the end of the line.”
Heather’s face fell with shock. “What?”
“I didn’t promise exclusive rights, and I didn’t expect them.”
“We’re—”
“Done. I think I’ve explained that a couple times already, but if I have to spell it out, I will.”
Heather’s shock curled into a snarl. “What the hell? You want me to chase you? I don’t chase, Drake. Men chase me.”
The spoiled brat whine grated his nerves. “Heather, move on. I’m not the vision you keep showcasing to your friends.”
Heather contemplated her next words. “Everything I do to promote you is for us. For our future, how can you be mad at me for that?”
Her perfect, polished nails reached for him, and he gripped her wrist, lowering it. “Heather, it doesn’t work for me. You’ve got a course plotted out, and it’s not what I envision. It never was.”
Heather glared at him, and then her eyes pinned themselves to his chest. “A new tattoo,” she said and looked closer. “Always Twilight.” Her mouth flattened into a thin line. “And what is that supposed to mean? Twilight is awfully fucking close to Twila, isn’t it Drake?” Heather hissed, grabbing his arm. “You can’t be ditching me for her.” She jerked her head toward Twila who’d almost made it back to his parent’s place. She let loose a spiteful laugh of disbelief. “Get real, Drake. We run in the same circles. You need someone like me. I know so many wealthy people. When we’re married your sales will triple.”
Wow, this woman was more than conceited, she was half psycho. “I don’t need a model to lay on the bow to sell my ships.”
Heather deliberated on her next words. “Then what are you doing with her? Need a little geriatric help yourself?” she said, showing her claws.
Gut instinct kept him on track when he was in the Marines, and his gut told him Twila would always remain faithful to him. It had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with who they were and how they looked at the world. When he didn’t respond, Heather turned her hate where she thought she could get the biggest impact.
“That witch is going to get an earful,” Heather stated.
“Twila hasn’t done a damn thing. Don’t blame her for my decisions.”
“Drake, you love sex and we’re good at it together. We’re good period. Daddy likes you and so does my mother,” she whined.
“I’m not into patio parties and meeting the next ‘who’s important in town’ couple who buys a waterfront mansion.”
Heather turned abruptly and clicked down the road in four inch heals with purpose. Her skinny hips swayed with a learned gait from the catwalk. “Twila,” she shouted, catching up with her. “You intrusive bitch.”
Twila’s eyes widened with shock as Heather got right into her face.
“If you think you’re moving in on my fiancée, think again.”
Twila was totally out of her comfort zone. She wasn’t a fighter, more a gentle creature that would save a spider instead of kill it if she found it in her bathtub.
“Back off, Heather,” he ordered. He started to walk between them when Twila gripped his wrist.
“Fiancée?” Twila’s chin rose. “Time for a gulp of reality you pampered cow.”
She took an angry step toward Heather, and he could see Twila’s fist curling into a ball. Okay, maybe he was wrong, maybe she could kill her own spiders.
“You keep rising up like a backed up sewer and you smell the same,” Twila said with a dangerous tone, never breaking eye contact. “The intrusive bitch around here is you. Find someone else to line your closet with expensive clothes and shoes. You think you have value because you come from money? You use your body like a high paid hooker to get what you want. You’re worthless.”
For a second he thought Twila might actually take a swing at Heather, and he held onto her.
“Go find someone else to dump your melodrama on. Drake never asked you to marry him and I doubt he ever will.”
Heather’s face morphed from anger to doubt. “And I suppose you think he’s fallen for you? He’s using you, Twila. Drake doesn’t love women, he fucks them. As soon as he’s bored with you, he’ll be coming back to me.”
He could see Heather mounting a full on attack. “Twila, go inside,” he said gruffly. She hesitated, but then walked quickly to the front door. He waited for Heather to take her hateful gaze off Twila and put it back on him.
“So you are fucking her!” Heather leaned around him with a murderous expression curling her features. “You’re going to regret this you slut.”
“No, Heather, I don’t fuck the woman I’ve fallen in love with.”
Heather stiffened, tears welling in her eyes. “You don’t mean that.”
He looked down at his new tat and then at the model, her face a mask to cover the vein woman beneath. “There’s no comparison, Heather. She and I come from the same place. I love her because of who she is, not what she is. It’s time for you to leave and not come back.”
Heather jerked her head. “I don’t believe you. You’re going to marry me. You want time to play in the trenches, fine, but in the end you’ll realize it’s me who’ll make you more successful than you already are. Everything in this world is decided by face value, and you two look ridiculous together. The only thing she’s good for is cleaning floors.” Heather flicked her finger at his chest. “When you come to your senses, I’ll be waiting. I’ve already started planning our wedding. It will be one Miami will never forget.”
The woman had a bite like a bulldog, and the only way to end this was to rip her off. It went against everything he believed in, but she’d threatened Twila and she had zero
respect for him. “You were a good fuck, but I can’t stand the person you are.” He leaned over wanting to throttle the woman. “Don’t spend too much of your daddy’s money on a dress you won’t use.”
She whirled around, got in her car and floored it, screeching tires halfway down the road.
He felt unbelievably lousy pulling Twila into Heather’s crosshairs. The feeling worsened when he entered the trailer and his mother’s eyes were big as saucers. Twila’s hands shook as she paced back and forth like a caged animal.
“She’s gone. I didn’t think she’d get this crazy. I’m sorry.”
Twila’s head nodded sharply and stepped toward the door.
“Wait!” He grasped her hand. “We need to air this all out.” Giving up on his promise to her wasn’t his intention. He was going to make it his mission to get a smile from her and put this behind them.
“Please, I said I didn’t want to be involved in this nonsense, and now I am.” Her voice stuttered with emotion. “This was all a mistake.”
“No, it wasn’t,” he and his mother spouted at the same time making Drake glare at her for silence.
“Sorry, honey—”
“Mom, I love you, but sit.”
He slid his palm down Twila’s arm, and coaxed her shaking hand into his. Instead of letting go and maybe he should have, he got closer. “Everything you said to Heather is true, but you missed one important fact. The one thing you didn’t say, but I did.”
When she turned to face him, biting her lower lip, it started a deep burn inside him. She cast a nervous glance at his mother. Dad sat in his chair with a perturbed expression.
Twila’s lips parted as if to speak then closed it again.
He waited.
“I didn’t miss it,” she finally said.
Doubt? Did she actually doubt how much she meant to him? “I don’t care about the time line, Twila.” Maybe they’d fallen in love too fast, but was there such a thing? Love took charge of its own pace. It wasn’t for others to decide, only them.
Twila's Tempest Page 17
