All That You Are

by Stef Ann Holm

  “You keep doing that and I am going to kiss you. And once I start, I’m not going to stop.”

  “I don’t want you to stop,” she whispered, and framed his face with her other hand.

  The strong barrier she’d tried to build between them toppled with her words. Mark brought his lips down on hers with an urgency that sent her senses reeling. His mouth was firm yet pliant, yielding to her. He cupped the back of her head in his hands to draw her closer. She moaned and he deepened the kiss.

  Dana felt as if she were as hot as the fire, closing her eyes and melting next to Mark. She moved her fingers over the muscles of his broad shoulders, playing with his shirt’s fabric.

  The erratic beating of his heart moved against her own. She kissed him with a need that almost frightened her. She controlled the kiss, gently plying open his firm lips with the tip of her tongue. She sought the entrance of his mouth where he tasted sweetly of mint chewing gum. Her actions caused him to groan, drawing her closer to him, digging his fingers into the slope of her shoulders and grinding his mouth harder on hers.

  She felt lost, dizzy and swirling in a wave of sensations that were building, demanding to be quenched.

  She wanted to feel every part of him.

  “Please…” she whispered on his lips.

  “Dana…”

  Her name, spoken, said volumes. He was giving her one final chance to change her mind.

  “Please,” she murmured, ignoring every ounce of reason she’d ever had.

  Mark removed her shirt, then pressed the weight of his torso over hers, weaving his fingers into her hair. He kissed her with light easy strokes, taking her lower lip into his mouth and running his tongue across the velvet sweetness. He grazed the hollow of her throat. The sensations Dana felt made her weak and radiated a fan of heat throughout her body from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. It swirled and centered on the place between her legs. She wanted him there.

  Mark pulled away from her only for a moment as he removed his shirt and unbuckled his belt to slide out of his jeans. His chest was broad and hewn with muscles, hard from physical labors. Her hands slid unabashedly up his bare chest and she reveled in the texture of the tautly stretched skin. He was all male, so handsome. She fingered the line of coarse hair across his chest and slowly outlined his nipples. Mark’s breath caught in his throat.

  He made fast work of removing her bra and jeans, then her panties. Momentarily self-conscious, she bit her lip.

  “You are so beautiful,” he said, brushing her bare skin at her collarbone. Her coloring was darker in contrast to his, and he was intent on gazing at every inch of her naked flesh. “Beautiful.”

  As he cradled her next to him, she felt the full flush nakedness of his body beside her.

  She had to bring up a subject that she found uncomfortable, but necessary. She’d never make the same mistake twice and no matter how awkward, she had to say it.

  “Mark…I need my purse. There’s something I have to get.”

  Without question, he reached behind his head, then handed her purse to her. She nervously dug for the protection inside.

  One surprise baby was enough for a lifetime for her.

  “It’s not that I was thinking about it,” she stammered. “But I didn’t want to be in the middle of something then have to ask about it and then you have to—”

  “Shh.” His fingertip came over her mouth. “I understand.”

  The mood between them slightly chilled and she found the situation difficult, but Mark brought her close and held her for the longest time, stroking her back and the skin that curved across her hip. Finally, his palm rested on the swell of her butt.

  Languid and relaxed once more, she kissed him and they fell back into the moment. Hands skimmed, mouths touched, fingers explored. Nothing was forgotten to be loved on their bodies.

  Breathless, Dana thought she couldn’t take another second of the sweet agony. Mark nudged her legs apart and settled over her. He raised himself up on one elbow and they became one. The flood of emotions welling inside her threatened to topple her over the edge.

  The emptiness that had been inside her was gone. Her body tingled and throbbed, an eddy of hot tides racking her with pleasure. She felt the muscles on Mark’s back tighten and she clung to him, raking his damp skin with her fingernails. His ragged breath hotly caressed her ear and she savored the aftermath of their entwined bodies.

  A long moment passed with nothing but the sound of their beating hearts filling the room. The words on her lips that she wanted to speak remained still. Hushed and unspoken—too dangerous to reveal. Instead, she said what she must, that she had to say and truly mean.

  “Mark.” She blinked the tears that dampened her eyelashes. “When you leave, I don’t want you to come back. I won’t say goodbye twice.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  THE BOISE AIRPORT TARMAC rippled with heat waves as Mark disembarked the aircraft. Carry-on bag strapped over his shoulder, he walked toward the covered awning of Alaska Airlines. He had a surreal feeling seeing the familiar surroundings, as if he’d been gone a year rather than a few months.

  Not used to such arid weather, the dryness assailed him and perspiration formed at his hairline. The desert-like air was hot and scorching for late August. Must have been in the low one hundreds today—a far cry to the fifty degrees he’d left in Alaska.

  He walked the ramp toward the terminal, pausing once to roll up his shirtsleeves as the air-conditioning within the building blasted him. Once inside, he took the escalator to the second floor and exited the security zone to find his sister waiting for him.

  She was an attractive woman, statuesque, with long black hair and a go-getter smile.

  “Hey, Franci, I didn’t know anyone would be here,” Mark said, giving her a quick hug.

  “I haven’t seen you in forever. Of course I’d be here. I want to hear all about your trip. And everything about her—details.”

  Mark nudged his bag higher on his shoulder. “You never have given me any slack about anything.” Good-natured, he replied, “I’ll tell you about Dana.”

  “Great—you can start by why you didn’t bring her with you if she’s as fabulous as Mom thinks she is.”

  THE SATURDAY MARK LEFT, Dana had taken the night off. In the morning, she’d brought her mother and Terran to see the mural in all its glory. Her mom had been in awe of Oscar’s likeness. Terran had thought Grandpa Oscar looked fun with musical notes. Afterward they all went on a hike at Ward Lake, wearing jackets to fend off the cooling temperature on one of the last August days.

  The afternoon was spent finding sticks, throwing rocks into the lake and playing hide-and-seek. They brought a picnic lunch and Dana and Suni told Terran stories about his uncle Terrance, whom he’d been named after, and Grandpa Oscar.

  In many ways, the mural had been cathartic, bringing them to a place where Dana and Suni couldn’t stop sharing and recollecting a husband and father. No longer did Dana feel as if she had to hold on to the bar to keep memories alive. She was at peace now. As if she’d been holding her breath, she’d been able to release it and find a true joy in going to the bar. And it was her father’s face above the bandstand that immortalized Oscar “The Sax Man” Jackson as the Blue Note’s founder. Dana would forever be grateful to Cardelle and to Mark for thinking of her.

  Tuesday afternoon, Dana went into the Blue Note earlier than usual to be alone in the bar and admire the mural once again.

  The Blue Note was so quiet, she could hear herself breathing. The vast room seemed to echo the big void that resided in Dana’s heart. Today was the start of a new workweek and full of tasks to occupy her mind. Life began again and moved forward. Only it wouldn’t bring Mark’s handsome face in the doorway or his husky voice at the bar. Or his arms around her.

  Things were just as before he came to Ketchikan.

  Except now a loneliness settled into her the depths of which she feared to acknowledge lest it devour her.
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br />   Walking forward, she looked at the painting and smiled with fondness. Her father had been such a handsome man. Terrance, too. Their photos hung in the bar and at Fish Tail Air, and that’s what Cardelle had used as his inspiration for the mural.

  Dana went into her office, staring at the mountain of paperwork and receipts, then sighed. Time for work, to settle back in, to begin again and go about her day as if the past three months were a distant memory…when it had only been a few days since Mark departed.

  The spare key to the bar that she’d loaned him had been left behind in a paper-clip receptacle.

  She sat at her desk and habitually kicked off her heeled shoes and went for the spare sensible flats she kept beneath her desk. Extending her leg, her foot searched to fit into a shoe. She couldn’t find the pair she had left. Dana paused and peeked under her desk.

  Rolling back in her chair, surprise lifted her brows when she spied a pair of heels that she’d never seen before. She picked them up and set them on her desk.

  “Oh my…” she breathed.

  Christian Louboutin peep-toe sexy cranberry-red shoes with killer stiletto heels.

  The very ones she’d repeatedly been coveting on the Internet.

  She fit the right shoe on first, then the left. The toe of her foot touched something and she withdrew to find a small note inside. It was folded in half once.

  Reading the boldly scripted handwriting, she couldn’t contain the beginnings of a smile that caught on her mouth.

  When you wear these, think about all the times you wanted to kick my ass.

  THREE YEAR AFTER Giovanni Moretti told his wife, Mariangela, that he wanted to bring life back into Boise’s downtown, his big vision project—the Grove Marketplace—had been completed.

  The dedication that first day in September drew officials from a variety of offices. The mayor had shown, and a representative from the governor’s office came, as well as city council members. A host of building department people were there, and the chamber of commerce had invited all the downtown businesses to join the large celebration. Executives from the leasing company that would see to it all the vacancies had been filled and subcontractors came to show their support. A caterer had assembled tables in the main building’s lobby, and the aroma of hors d’oeuvres mingled with the notes of a baby grand piano that had been brought in just for the occasion.

  All the Morettis were present. Mark and Franci had worked together to take care of details and ensure things ran smoothly and on time. His mom stood by her oldest son, John, and his wife, Chloe, along with John’s kids—Zach on a military leave for the occasion, and Kara, now graduated from high school. Robert Moretti and his wife, Marie, were by the fountain along with their young daughters.

  Francesca Moretti-Jagger, and her husband, Kyle Jagger, took front and center since it had been her architectural firm, Bella Design, that had done the drawings for the renovation.

  Mark remained focused on what he needed to do, and began the proceedings with an introduction of Father John Kowalsky. He offered a humble prayer in remembrance of Giovanni. Then Franci took over and said some words about the project, and how much it had meant to her father, and how sorry the family was he hadn’t had the chance to see it finished. Mark spoke, talking about how it had been difficult to go forward, but that everyone who’d been hands-on at the job site had really made things easier for them.

  The ceremony was brief with a recap of how they had come to this point of completion—through trials and errors, and one surprise partner, Kyle Jagger. Laughter rose from the Morettis, as there was an inside story about that one. Kyle had ended up marrying Franci because of a deal Giovanni had made with him to be a silent partner.

  Applause sounded at the appropriate moments, while smiles and nods conveyed other feelings. Mark stood before the gathering and announced the surprise the family had planned for the lobby.

  Franci helped him with it, and Mark glanced at his mom. Pride beamed in her eyes as Francesca called attention to the bronze wall portrait.

  The local artist’s work was three-dimensional, a portrait of Giovanni and Mariangela Moretti. On the inscription plaque, it read:

  Love built this building and love built this marriage.

  Below it was the start and completion date of Grove.

  Cheers rose from those in attendance, then Mark signaled to Franci to cut the ribbon. She took a pair of giant scissors, and once the red ribbon had been severed, applause resounded anew.

  Kyle came to the forefront and spoke. “I wanted to hand the key to the building over to the owners.” He gave an exaggerated key to a suited gentleman who took over to add his thoughts.

  “Thank you to the Moretti family for making this project a place Boise can be proud of. I know you’re all wishing Giovanni could have been here. He is in spirit.”

  Mark saw his mother dab tears at the corners of her eyes, and Kara put her arm around her.

  “It was the Morettis’ honesty and integrity that made this project a pleasure to watch.” With a chuckle, he added, “Normally when we’re at the end of a job, it’s been so stressful that none of us want to speak to each other.”

  Laughter rose from the subs and contractors.

  Then a familiar face took front and center. His gruff approach was no stranger to several in attendance, but he’d won over skeptics and had endeared himself to many. “Bob Garretson, here, in case you don’t know.”

  The mega grocery store chain owner was known far and wide in the business circles.

  “I wanted to say a few things,” Bob continued after clearing his throat. “This family’s dedication and hard work ethic from the old country that Giovanni brought with him made this renovation an honor to be a part of. I’m happy that my biggest store is located right here in the heart of things. So, with that said, I’m officially making an announcement that the Morettis will be the construction managers on all my building projects in the western states.”

  Enthusiastic cheers rose. The honor was huge, and Mark knew it. He’d had a foreshadowing from Kyle that this partnership would transpire, but being back less than two days hadn’t given Mark the time to sit the family down and tell them of his plans to go out on his own or to catch up on the local buzz.

  Mark took the spotlight once more. “Thank you all for coming, and please join us for some refreshments and food. Thanks again. We appreciate it.”

  The crowd stretched forward, congratulations and offerings of goodwill exchanged. Mark milled around, spoke to those he knew, went through the motions of being there when he actually wasn’t.

  His mind, his heart, his every breath, was elsewhere.

  On a woman he couldn’t forget, nor did he want to.

  Three months later

  DECEMBER CAME to Ketchikan in a white blanket that lay on the streets and rooftops like a dusting of powdered sugar. Most of the time, the snow melted by noon due to the steady drizzle of light rain. Daylight had become a valuable commodity, the length of days barely eight hours long.

  Building space rented by the cruise ships had been vacated, the windows boarded and occupants long gone. The wintry city had grown quiet and tranquil. Only the locally owned stores remained open for business. The Cedar Chest on Main Street received their Christmas items, and Julie’s Fine Jewelry was the place to shop for that special someone. For a new book, Parnassus had the selection to peruse. And the library was full every evening, as serious reading came into season.

  With the heater on in her small truck, Dana headed toward town after picking up Terran from school. She’d altered her work schedule in order to get him when the bell rang. There was nothing important at the Blue Note at that hour that couldn’t wait. She took joy from seeing her son run to the car where she waited for him at the parking lot’s main curb.

  “Tell me why you did that?” Dana asked, not liking that she’d received a telephone call about a disciplinary action that had to be taken against Terran in class today.

  He’d been
escorted to the principal’s office for a reprimand.

  Chin to his chest, Terran gazed forward. “I didn’t leave it on the hallway floor.”

  “But, baby, you put mud on that little girl’s desk. It ruined her artwork papers.”

  “She was supposed to laugh.”

  “It’s not funny.”

  “But, Mom,” Terran pleaded with innocence. “I was trying to be a rascal.”

  “Rascal? Where did you get that word?”

  “Mark told me.”

  Dana’s pulse skipped, as it always did when Terran referenced something that had to do with Mark Moretti. It seemed like he’d left an eternity ago, yet he’d never left her heart.

  Terran insisted in a convincing tone, “I wanted to be a rascal and make Kaitlyn happy.”

  Dana didn’t understand how a mud pie could make a little girl happy. “That makes no sense.”

  “She needed to be happy. Her goldfish died last night and she was crying in class today. Mark said rascals make people laugh and I knew she needed to laugh so I made her fake dog poop. Only she didn’t laugh, Mom, and I got in trouble because she started crying some more.” Quietly, he said in a distant voice, “I’m sorry.”

  Now everything made sense and Dana gazed at her boy. He’d changed since entering school. No longer did he call her Momma or Mommy. Only Mom. Walking him into the classroom became a no-no—he wanted to do it himself. The mornings where he would let her kiss him goodbye were no more.

  But at home, he reverted to her son who needed his mom, and who threw his arms around her and gave her kisses. The son who’d found a simple pleasure in learning to read and liked to read to her at bedtime.

  “Oh, Terran…it’s okay. You did a good thing. I’m not mad at you.”

  Sniffing, he muttered, “Thanks, Momma.”