Chailali laughed. “Watching the two of you is so much fun. My goodness, when you kissed last night, I thought the house would go up in flames it was so hot.”
Christy’s eyes widened.
“Oh, I left when it was obvious the argument was over. Don’t worry. I’m not into voyeurism to that extent. But your arguments are so heated, and then when you came together...” She sighed. “It was more arousing than the love scenes Mike writes.”
Christy leaned forward and covered her face with her hand. “Mike?”
“Hm?” he asked as he lifted his cup.
“Do you ever...hear strange things in this house?”
He sipped his coffee and raised his eyebrow at her. “Such as...?”
Christy pushed her food around her plate with the fork.
“I told you he can’t hear me.”
“Voices,” Christy said.
“What? Is my computer acting up again? Sometimes it starts playing back my book when I’m not even in the room. I’ll turn it off before we go.”
“No,” Christy said slowly. “Other voices. Well, one voice in particular.”
Mike cleared his throat and lifted a piece of bacon from the plate. “Are you hearing voices, honey?”
Chailali laughed. “He won’t understand, because he can’t hear me. Don’t make him think you’re crazy.”
“I think I am crazy,” Christy mumbled. “Never mind,” she said louder to Mike. “Just an overactive imagination, I guess.”
Mike frowned in Christy’s direction for a moment. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you...should we call...someone?”
The phone rang, making Christy jump. She stared at the telephone on the opposite wall, but didn’t move to answer it.
“I didn’t do that,” Chailali said. “It’s not me this time.”
“Christy?” Mike said. “Are you going to get it?”
“What?” She turned back to look at him. “Oh. Right. Sure.” She jumped up from the chair and caught the phone on the fourth ring. “Hello? Oh, hi, Beth. Nice of you to return my call.” Her tone was filled with sarcasm, and Mike turned toward her, but Christy had her back to him.
Mike sighed after Christy began speaking into the phone, and turned back to his food.
Chailali was more than pleased to see that the hard lines that normally bracketed his mouth and fanned out from his eye were softened this morning. The only word for the look she saw on his face was contentment.
With a smile, she decided to leave them alone for a while. Maybe she’d stay around the house a little bit longer, though. Just to make sure these two didn’t find some reason not to be together, as new couples seemed wont to do.
* * * * *
“You’re making me feel like a blind guy.”
“What are you talking about? You are blind.”
Mike grinned at Christy’s disgruntled tone. “Yeah, but gripping your elbow is making me feel like it.” She’d been silent and stiff, edgy, since they left the house nearly ten minutes ago, and he wanted to loosen her up or for sure she’d have a panic once they got into town.
Walking down the steep hill was hell on his leg, but he was glad she’d agreed to go. Even if she didn’t make it into the store, he thought this little trip was a big accomplishment for her. He was proud of her.
“So, exactly how am I supposed to guide you if you don’t hold my arm?”
She’d stopped walking and now faced him. He still held her arm, and he used it to pull her next to him so he could wrap his arm around her waist and snuggle her against his side. “There,” he said. “That’s better, don’t you think?”
Christy sighed and laid her head against his shoulder for a moment as they started walking again. He kissed the top of her head and breathed in her sweet, spicy scent. It was her shampoo, he’d found out when they showered together that morning. She said it was green apple and chamomile. He didn’t really care what made her smell so delicious, he just knew the scent was forever burned into his memory. Just as Christy herself was.
“What did you do before the...uh...accident?” she asked, her words soft. She wrapped her arm around his back, her fingers teasing his side.
The air was crisp and fresh from the days of rain. A light breeze ruffled the leaves overhead, sending a strange, almost disorientating play of light and shadow through his limited vision.
He sighed in contentment. A warm fall day that smelled of fresh sea air, and a soft, gentle woman at his side. “I wrote.”
“But I thought Beth said you hadn’t published until you found her.”
“True. But I’d been a writer since I was a kid.”
“The starving artist type?”
He chuckled. “Naw. Caryn was the breadwinner in the family.”
“Tell me about her? How’d you meet? What did she do for a living?”
He didn’t speak much of his wife, and it felt odd doing so now with his new lover. But he figured the conversation would keep Christy’s mind off her worries about this foray into town, so he’d talk. He’d loved—still loved—Caryn. But after ten years, the pain of her loss had eased. Until Christy came into his life, he hadn’t realized the ache of loneliness had been nearly overwhelming.
“We met by accident one afternoon in the library. We were both attending U of O at Portland. She was in pre-med, and I was majoring in English and Economics.”
“Economics?”
Mike grinned at Christy’s stunned tone. “Yep. By order of my father, who was paying for my education. He knew I wanted to be a writer, but he wanted me to do something I could fall back on in case I sucked at it.” He chuckled. “So, my choice was writing or accounting.”
“Couldn’t you have been an English teacher?”
He cleared his throat, stifling a laugh. “Have you not noticed my oh-so wonderful sense of patience? Can you see me as a teacher?”
She chuckled and gave his waist a bit of a squeeze. “Point taken.”
“Caryn did her residency in Portland, and I worked odd jobs to help pay the bills after we both graduated, but I wrote every free moment I had. After she finished, she got a job in the clinic here in Moonlight Cove, we got married, and we moved here.” He shrugged. “Dad footed us the down payment on the house because Caryn fell in love with it at first glance.”
What more was there to tell? They’d had a good marriage, for as long as it lasted. Until the night he put her behind the wheel instead of forking over the seventy bucks for a room in Coos Bay.
“Are you still close with your parents?” Christy asked.
“Dad died of a heart condition a few years ago. Mom went less than a year later. I think she died of a broken heart.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she whispered and gave him another squeeze.
Mike had never been comfortable with condolences. He lifted his cane on their next step. “Dad got this for me the year before he died. He and Mom went to Alaska for a month, something he’d always wanted to do.”
“I noticed before how pretty it was, and how heavy,” she said. “What kind of wood is it?”
“Diamond willow. I guess it’s pretty common up there. Dad said they make a lot of canes and such out of it. The handle is made from Caribou antler.” Gripping the handle of the cane, he realized he tried not to think of his parents much. It hurt. The loss of them was still too fresh. When he missed them, he sat and caressed the smooth, yet textured wood of his cane. The knots and indents that formed the diamonds reminded him of his rough life. But just like the tree that grew this wood, he’d survive.
Well, that was a stupid thought. The tree had been chopped down and turned into a cane. He chuckled.
“What’s funny?” Christy asked.
He shook his head. “It’s amazing what we tell ourselves just to survive, isn’t it?”
She nodded her head against his shoulder, gripped his waist hard, and stopped walking. “We’re here.”
Chapter Nine
Christy’s insides twisted, and her heart spe
d up to triple time. Her breaths grew shallow, and she got a little lightheaded. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t go in there. Why had she thought she could?
Mike’s arms came around her, and she turned into his warm embrace.
“Breathe, honey,” he whispered in her ear. “Breathe deep. I’m right here. Hang onto me. You’re safe.”
She nodded her head and tried to take a deep breath, but she almost choked on it. Concentrate on one thing, she reminded herself. Mike had told her to pick something to focus on when the panic hit. His smell. His dark, musky scent. She breathed it in and found her pulse settling a bit. His fleece sweatshirt was soft, warm from his body, holding the elemental scent that was Michael.
“That’s it,” he whispered in her ear, his breath brushing her cheek. “Deep breaths. Nothing to be afraid of. You’re safe.”
She nodded and loosened her grip on his arm.
“Okay?” His big palm coasted over her shoulder, down her back, while his other arm banded her tight against his hard, muscled chest.
She drew in one more deep breath. “Okay.”
She felt his smile against her cheek. “That’s my girl.”
She liked being his girl. Pulling back just the slightest bit, she looked up into his face. As she raised her hand and cupped his scarred cheek, she wondered how someone who’d been through so much pain could be so sweet—once they got past the initial mistrust.
He turned his head and kissed her palm. “I love holding you in my arms.”
She grinned and bumped her belly against his growing erection. “I wonder why.”
He chuckled. “You’re definitely not innocent.” Dipping his head, he found her lips with his. “And I love that about you.” His tongue thrust once, then twice into her mouth, and she moaned and clung to his shoulders, the world tilting on its axis as the kiss heated her blood and made her nipples tighten, her pussy heat and throb.
She pulled away, panting. “Condoms,” she whispered against his shoulder. “We need to get some. Now.”
“Agreed. But are you ready?”
She nodded. “Yeah.” Her physical needs were starting to outweigh her emotional fear. In order to get the condoms, she had to go inside. She stepped out of the safety of Mike’s arms and slid her hand down to lace her fingers through his. “Just stay with me, okay?”
“Of course.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I’m right here, hon.”
She turned around and faced the street in front of Ryan’s grocery store. “Oh. It’s so pretty.”
“What? Describe it to me.”
“I forgot Halloween was so close. All the shops have fall leaves in the windows, pumpkins on the sidewalks, and bright baskets of mums in yellow, orange and red. I’ve never seen anything so...homey.”
She hadn’t noticed the town much when she drove through with Beth, and now that her brain wasn’t dealing with the stress of entering the store, she realized how picturesque a place it was. The ideal coastal town that most people drove through and never paid any attention to—her included.
The buildings were old with faded cedar siding, the street clean and decorated to look like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. She could easily picture children, dressed as ghouls and goblins, running along the sidewalk. Right now, though, the street was nearly deserted. Mid-morning on a weekday, off-season. There weren’t any tourists around, but she’d bet a place like this got inundated with them in the summer.
“Moonlight Cove has a moonlight dance the weekend before Halloween every year. I guess it’s coming up this Saturday.” He coasted his thumb over the back of her hand.
Turning to look at him, she saw a bit of longing in his face. Did he want to go to that dance? With her?
“It’s a costume party held out at the Baker’s farm, in the barn. They string white Christmas lights in the rafters and...” His voice faded away and he turned his head a bit.
“Mike...” She wasn’t ready for that. She wasn’t sure she could make it inside the store. To be in a building with who knew how many people?
“I know.” He gave her a lop-sided smile. “It’s just been so long since I had someone to do anything with. Maybe next year.”
Her heart clenched. Next year? He was thinking they’d still be... That she’d be here...living with him...? She wanted that more than anything.
She squeezed his hand. “Next year,” she said, promising him and herself that she’d overcome her phobias before then.
His smile turned warm and tender. “Next year.”
She turned back to the store and saw the bushel baskets of fresh apples out front. Tugging lightly on Mike’s hand, she went to them, the strong scent of fresh fruit calming her even more. Then she stooped down and picked up a fat, hard, green apple and lifted it to Mike’s nose.
“Mmm.” He grinned. “Do you make apple pie?”
“Uh huh. It can make grown men weep, it’s so good.”
“Make me cry, baby.”
She laughed. “I’m going to let go of you for a second and grab a bag to put some in, okay?”
He nodded and released her. She tore a plastic bag from the roll lying in one of the baskets and chose a half-dozen tart Granny Smith apples. Then she laced her fingers through his again. “Okay, Mike.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
Mike worried he’d pushed for too much too soon. Not just the trip to the grocery, but saying things about next year. Their relationship was too new and too fragile to start thinking in the long term, but he couldn’t imagine letting her go now. Not after he’d held her, tasted her...fallen in love with her.
Worry about that later. Right now they had to get through this foray into an area Christy might not be ready for. “Okay, hon,” he said as he pulled her closer to his side. “Lead the way.”
They took a few steps then stopped again. They were now standing in the shade, and he assumed they were beneath the white and green awning over Ryan’s front door. Cane in one hand, Christy in the other, he waited, wondering if she’d have the courage to face her fears and enter.
Christy’s hand grew cool and damp within his, and he strained to hear how fast her breathing might have grown, but she was taking slow, deep breaths. She had her bottle of anxiety pills in her little purse hanging over her shoulder—she’d told him she had them at least—so if worse came to worst, they had a backup. But he prayed she could do this on her own.
Until he’d mentioned the moonlight dance, he hadn’t realized how much he wanted to reenter the outside world. With Christy by his side, he knew he could do it. Without her, he may have never left his house. Until she came along, he’d never let himself feel the loneliness—the emptiness—that his life had become.
“Okay,” Christy whispered, and her grip tightened on his hand.
He assumed she was talking to herself and not him.
She moved a bit, and he heard the door open, a small tinkle from the bell over the door. Some things never changed. Being the only grocery store in Moonlight Cove, he and Caryn had shopped here a couple of times a week.
A few more steps, and she stopped again. This time her breathing sped and her grip became almost painful.
“Well, hello, Mike.” Ryan spoke the words from his left.
Mike turned his head and smiled in the direction from which the voice had come. “Ryan.” He pulled Christy against his side, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Grab the first thing you see, and concentrate on it.”
Her muscles moved in her arm as she reached for something.
She whimpered, and he prepared himself to turn and usher her back through the door. But first...
“What is it?” he asked.
“Bubble gum.”
“What brand?”
“Hubba Bubba.”
He tried to remember what the packages looked like from so long ago when he’d last seen one. “Pink?”
“Uh huh.” Her voice was
high and strained.
“Concentrate on the H,” he said. “Stare at it until all you see is that letter. And breathe, honey. Deep breaths.”
“H,” she whispered. “Yellow H on pink package.”
“That’s right. Focus on the letter, and let everything else go out of your mind.” When the shrink at the hospital had taught him this technique for blocking pain, he’d used the sprinkler over his bed as his focal point. By the time he left the hospital, he’d felt as if he intimately knew that sprinkler head.
He prayed it would work for Christy. Moving behind her, he wrapped both arms around her waist, giving her his physical support, and wished he knew more about emotional trauma than he did.
“Mike?” Ryan said, and Mike heard him nearing.
He held up one hand, palm out, hoping Ryan would stop. Mike didn’t think having anyone approach her right this second would be a good thing.
As the long moments stretched on in the silent store—the only sounds coming from the cold cases, freezers, and the slight hum of the fluorescent lighting—he felt Christy slowly relax as her breathing evened out.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered. He kissed her hair and smiled. “I’m so proud of you.”
“I’m okay.”
“That’s right. You hold onto that gum, and if anything starts bothering you, you stop and concentrate on the H.”
He felt her nod.
Christy looked up from the pack of gum in her hands, and tears prickled her eyes. She was okay. She’d walked into a building, and she was able to breathe. Her chest didn’t hurt. Between Mike’s warm, tender embrace and the concentration thing he’d taught her, she’d done it.
But even as she thought about her accomplishment, her heartbeat sped, and her breath caught. She looked back down at the gum package in her hand and focused on the H until, blocking everything else out except the single yellow letter and Mike’s arms, his warm breath against her neck, she calmed.
She sucked in another big breath and looked up again. They were facing the gum rack, and it almost made her laugh. “Okay,” she said on a breath. “Okay.” They needed to move, to walk down the aisle and look for what they’d come for, but she was loath to let Mike release her.
Chailali’s Curse Page 10
