Between You and Me

by Lynn Turner

  “So, who’d you listen to?”

  He smiled ruefully. “The shrink. I threw myself into recovery. In two years, my gait was almost perfect. Couldn’t even tell when I was wearing pants that I had one leg. After that, I busted my balls just to graduate and get into UW. The work was challenging, and I liked that. But it wasn’t enough to distract me from the thought that it should have been me who died instead of her.”

  “Finn…”

  “No, I know,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair. “It’s a horrible thought, but it was honest.”

  “So…how did you cope after that? Was there anyone you could talk to?”

  “Well…”

  “Multiple someones?”

  He winced. “I know it sounds cliché, but I was a kid trying to find myself. I was performing well academically, and I had a few friends, but dating was a source of stress for me. I got sick of the pity, and girls who couldn’t hack it, and the ones who thought I wasn’t…whole enough. Then I learned there were women who got turned on by guys like me.”

  “They fetishized you.”

  “I was okay with it,” he said, wanting to be completely honest with her. “I enjoyed it for a long time. Most of it, anyway.”

  “Most of it?”

  “Ah, things got weird sometimes.”

  One of her brows rose.

  “Emmi…”

  “What? Tell me.”

  “It’s not really…it’s kind of embarrassing.”

  “More embarrassing than the spanking?”

  “Way more embarrassing than the spanking.”

  “Okay, now you have to tell me. Come on,” she said, nudging him. “Give it up.”

  “Shit.” He rubbed his chin. “Okay, the worst one had to be a woman I met in my twenties. She was cute and we hit it off fine, until she asked me to…penetrate her…with my stump.”

  Emanuela gasped. “Finn!”

  “And urinate on her.”

  “Oh my God…”

  He chuckled at her stunned face, her brows nearly at her hairline and her mouth agape.

  “I didn’t do it,” he said. “The experience woke me up, that’s for sure. I still took advantage of people’s attraction to my impediment, but I figured they were mutually exploitive experiences and didn’t lose sleep over it. I was more selective until I eventually lost interest. I guess you could say I finally found myself.”

  “Wow…”

  “And now I’ve found you. This project meant everything to me until I met you. It was fate.” He smiled, his ears reddening.

  “I didn’t know you believed in such things, Doctor Kane.”

  His gaze narrowed at her use of formality. “I didn’t think I did, but after that night in your hotel, the thing that consumed my life for so long seemed almost inconsequential compared to you. I thought about you all the time.” His voice deepened. “I think about you all the time.”

  Her breath caught and she reached for her iced au lait.

  “Emmi.”

  Color filled her face, and her eyes lowered. “It’s all so overwhelming, isn’t it? Sometimes I can’t even breathe.”

  He didn’t care that they were seated under a crowded canopy, or that a few people were pretending not to stare at them because his shorts exposed his prosthesis. In that moment, he only worried about her. He took her chin in his hand to drive it home. “It gets to me sometimes too, but it lets me know I have the capacity to care about someone in a way I’ve never felt before.”

  “You don’t think it’s happening too fast? Maybe we need more time to—”

  “The only time I want is right here, right now. Whatever you give me, for however long.”

  She looked at him and swallowed, unshed tears in her beautiful eyes. “Just—shut up and kiss me. Okay?”

  So he did. It lasted just a few seconds, but the seconds were theirs. It felt like a promise, that there would be infinitely more seconds now because time was reset when he bared all to her.

  He lifted his head again to see Priestess Felicie about to enter a building across the street. A smile graced her handsome face and she nodded once, seeming to bless the pair before walking into the restaurant.

  ****

  The rest of the balmy Louisiana morning lulled by in its easy unhurried way. They strolled the French Market hand-in-hand, people watching and chatting up vendors. Emanuela filled her tote with local delicacies to gift Allie and the office with. Their walk through the market was smattered with frequent stops to indulge, often ending with new additions to her tote. They tasted Zapp’s Voodoo Chips, an assortment of mini Hubig’s fruit pies, bacon pralines and sweet potato cookies.

  “Ugh, I’m gonna gain twenty pounds,” she groaned as they waited for the St. Charles Avenue Streetcar. “All I do is eat with you.”

  Finn wrapped his arms around her and bent to her ear. “That’s not all we do.”

  “Finn!” She grabbed the rogue hand at her tummy. “Behave.”

  He ignored her and kissed her neck. “I can think of a few ways to burn some calories.”

  She looked around, nervous that they were giving other tourists an eye and ear full. “You’re such a menace. I have to watch what I say around you all the time or you’ll twist it to your own advantage.”

  “Can you blame me? What is this thing anyway?” he asked, running his hands along her bare shoulders before releasing her to take her tote.

  She liked the way her sun-kissed skin glowed in her peach romper. The scalloped lace details were flirty and feminine, and she felt younger than her thirty-two years with her hair pulled into a messy bun, her bangs loose and framing her face. “It’s a romper. Stop looking at me like that!”

  “It’s very sexy,” he said, taking her hand.

  The look she gave him would have spelled trouble if they weren’t out in the broad light of day. Her gaze locked on his form and traveled the length of him, drinking in the way his light gingham shirt hugged his chest and arms, and his slightly tapered chinos showed off his powerfully toned thighs. His complexion had deepened to a tawny shade, and a stray curl hung over his high brow. She bit her lip.

  He squeezed her hand. “Stop that.”

  “We had to hurry this morning so you wouldn’t maul me and frighten the cleaning lady again. I think I earned that.” The streetcar arrived, saving her from his no-doubt lecherous rebuttal.

  They sat comfortably in the cool mahogany seats of the beautifully antiquated streetcar, the warm breeze filtering through its open windows. They enjoyed the scenery and talked quietly to each other. There wasn’t a whisper of space between them during the hour-long ride. The streetcar moved slowly through the Central Business District, then curved along St. Charles Avenue through a tunnel of majestic oaks. They passed under their branches, and flowing Spanish moss brushed the top of the car. The route was dotted with historic monuments, grand antebellum mansions with their many columns and balconies, and the sweeping grounds of the Audubon Zoological Gardens. The landscape was so beautiful, the streetcar so reminiscent of another time, that the ride was very romantic despite the ever-present hum of tourists and traffic.

  “This is nice,” Finn said. The streetcar made its way back toward the French Quarter. “Were you planning to see any of the acts today?”

  “You mean on the fairgrounds?” Emanuela asked, registering his nod in response. “Oh God, no! So few of the acts are even jazz and it’s so crowded and hot. I’ve got something better for us, so I hope you brought your dancing shoes, baby.”

  He perked up at her sweetly worded challenge. “I’m just here for the ride. Baby.”

  ****

  Later that night, Morris dropped them off at Bullet’s Sports Bar in the “backa tawn.” It was a neighborhood upriver in the Seventh Ward, with its shotgun shacks and small businesses peppered with rundown houses and empty lots. A couple of celebrated musicians who left the city after Hurricane Katrina in search of better paying gigs had returned for the weekend, and a little birdie t
old Emanuela where one of them would be playing.

  “Thank you so much, Morris! You’re taking such good care of us,” she said, exiting the beautiful cab.

  “Just doin’ my job, Miss Monroe. Y’all pass a good time but stay close, and call me when you’re fixin to leave. It’s good kids here but sometimes tourists make easy targets and they get tempted.”

  “We will. See you soon, Morris.” Finn guided Emanuela into the bar with a hand at her lower back.

  The place was in full swing, with tourists and locals alike in various stages of happy drunkenness, moving their bodies to the lively music coming from the band. The small, powder blue establishment didn’t have a stage, so whoever the musicians were, they were playing from a space on the floor. Tables were cleared for the occasion, and there was standing room only. They couldn’t see the musicians yet, but Finn seemed to recognize the song immediately.

  “Oh my God, that’s Cyril Neville!” He practically had to yell in her ear to be heard.

  She grinned at him, his excitement making her a bit giddy herself. “You know Cyril?”

  “Are you kidding? I love him! This is the best cover of ‘Working Man’ I’ve ever heard. I like it even better than the original and that’s saying something!”

  It was hot in the tiny space. Bodies were in motion, swaying, twisting, rocking-and some just bobbing their heads-nearly shoulder to shoulder to the magic of the electric guitars and drums. Finn all but dragged Emanuela through the crowd to get them as close to the band as he could. His efforts paid off, and he planted himself in a space at the end of the bar, pulling her to stand in front of him so he could hold her and take up as little of the limited space as possible. It was far too loud for any kind of conversation without yelling, but they were comfortable just enjoying the music and each other’s nearness.

  The sixty-six year old blues singer wore a fitted button up shirt and jeans, several chains, and a fedora over the bandana tied around his head. He was eccentric, the perfect blend of rock and soul, and there wasn’t a better artist to come see that night. Finn’s arms tightened around Emanuela. She felt his contentment in the moment, covering his arms with hers, and they rocked into the late night together.

  Around one o’clock, Cyril revved up the crowd with a funky rendering of his hit “Brand New Blues,” then injected his signature style into “Tipitina” as a tribute to Professor Longhair, New Orleans legend of rhythm and blues. Finally, he closed out the show with a special kind of tribute, sucking in the crowd, who came simply to have a good time, with his sincerity and passion.

  “I’m ’bout ta claim dis stage, and claim the night, on be-half of the folks from the Sixth, Seventh, Eighth and Ninth Wards of New Or-Leens,” he said with great fervor. “MY CITY!” He led his band into a mighty, soul-laced rendition of Curtis Mayfield’s “My Country.”

  The powerful sound and its message seemed to shake the ramshackle building, heightening the experience and unifying the crowd of strangers.

  “God, what a night!” Finn yelled.

  Emanuela twisted in his embrace to plant a kiss on his chin. Seeing him so happy and filled with wonder was something she wouldn’t soon forget.

  ****

  Finn held Emanuela in their hotel bed that night. “Tonight was incredible. I can’t even remember when I’ve had this much fun.”

  “I can’t either,” she said, kissing his throat. “You were so excited. It was pretty cute.”

  “Cute?”

  “In a manly, adorable way.” She pressed her mouth to his jaw.

  “Adorable?”

  She maneuvered herself on top of him and he groaned. “In a very sexy way.” She sighed, luxuriating in the feel of her taut nipples brushing against the curls on his chest.

  She moved against him, feeling his body stir in response to the velvet softness of hers. Their open mouths found each other, breaths merging as their bodies became one, provoking their passion and urgently sating it again before they finally fell asleep, content.

  Chapter Fifteen

  They walked along one of many beautiful trails in City Park after spending the morning touring an old antebellum mansion. The air was mild in the shade of some mossy oak trees near a pond. They decided to sit on a bench and pass some time alone, away from the excitement of the fairgrounds and main attractions.

  “I’m trying not to think too much about this being our last day together for a while.” Emanuela snuggled in to Finn’s side and rested her head on his shoulder.

  He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. “I know. I don’t think I can go a month before seeing you again. The only thing that got me through those last two weeks was knowing I’d be here with you now, and barely.”

  “I’m not sure how easy it’ll be to see each other more than once a month. It’s really overwhelming for me to think too far in advance. I’ll just be in my head and ruin the rest of our time together.”

  He kissed the top of her head, thinking. “Okay. Let’s not think that far ahead then. How about we just plan as we go?”

  She nodded against his shoulder. “You and Simon found a few potential locations for your new lab space, so I’ll have to come inspect them. I have to make sure you two aren’t up to anything suspicious,” she said, giving her words less of an edge.

  “We have. We’re looking forward to getting out of his garage and into a real lab. We aren’t the only ones interested, so we’ll need to decide pretty soon.”

  She was quiet for a long moment, and he could practically see her busy schedule running through her brain.

  “I can do it in two weeks,” she said.

  “Are you sure? Can you just decide like that or do you need someone to sign off first?”

  “Subtle.” She moved her head to glare at him playfully.

  He kissed her nose.

  “It’s part of my job description, Finn. The timeline is different for each project. What I do sometimes depends on what you do, so if you tell me there’s real estate to look at, I book a flight. If there’s some new development related to a product we’re backing, it’s possible that I may need to come see what you’re up to.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Uh-uh. Don’t get any ideas. If you two blow something up, it’s my ass on the line.”

  “Well,” he said with false gravity, his hand snaking down her spine. “I’ll do everything I can to make sure your ass isn’t compromised in any objectionable way.”

  “Finn!” She grabbed the delinquent hand at her backside. “I’m serious!”

  “So am I.” He nuzzled her neck.

  “You aren’t.” Though her expression was serious, her head tilted back to welcome his affection. “Besides, it’s likely going to be you doing most of the flying. Your schedule is more flexible than mine.”

  He raised his head to look at her, considering her words for a moment. He decided now was as good a time as any to tell her about Simon. “You’re right. It wouldn’t be a problem for me. Sy knows about us.”

  “How?” She searched his face. “Did you tell him?”

  He bristled a bit at the accusation in her tone. “No. He suspected something was up during that big conference meeting we had when Philip was all over you. I’m not as good as you are at disguising my feelings, apparently.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, kissing her fingers. “You didn’t deserve that.”

  “I didn’t, but I know what that must have looked like to you…I don’t think I could stomach another woman falling all over you.”

  Finn’s expression softened again, and he squeezed her hand.

  “This thing with Philip…” she said, sitting up straighter. “We’ve been friends a long time. I have a feeling he might feel something more than friendship for me recently, but I can’t be sure. He hasn’t explicitly asked me out or done anything inappropriate. We’ve always had an easy-going working relationship, but I’ll need to tread carefully. I just want you to trust that, if the tim
e comes, I’ll handle it.”

  Finn met her eyes, needing to see the sincerity he knew would be there before he could truly relax. He hated how the distance made him second-guess himself. “Do you feel anything for Philip?”

  “He’s obviously good looking, and I’ll admit that there’s a natural attraction there.”

  Finn watched her squirm. She obviously knew he wouldn’t be crazy about that gem of truth, though he appreciated her naked honesty.

  “I’ve never acted on it and I don’t intend to,” she said. “For a lot of reasons. I don’t have feelings for him in that way, especially not since meeting you.” She raised her eyes to his. “I don’t want to do anything to mess this up.”

  Finn processed what she told him, and it seemed like an eternity had passed.

  “I’m sure Philip is a good guy,” he said finally. “I trust you, but it’s no picnic being three thousand miles away while you work so closely with someone who might have feelings for you.”

  She visibly relaxed. “You won’t regret it, Finn.” She tilted her head to press a kiss to his tense jaw.

  A crowd of festival goers could be heard in the distance, interrupting the quiet calm of their interlude. Finn cast a quick glance in the direction of the rowdy people starting to come into view, then looked down at Emanuela. “Let’s get out of here.”

  ****

  They made short work of their clothes, kissing each other wherever their frantic lips could reach between each carelessly discarded item of clothing. Finn cursed, yanking at her shorts.

  “Get these off,” he said, against her lips.

  He waited for her to tug them off, then spun her around. He bent her over and took her in one smooth thrust. They cried out in unison, and Emanuela grabbed hold of one of the bed’s four posters, coaxing her body to relax despite her rapid pulse. He made love to her with a ferocity she hadn’t yet seen from him. Part of her understood his animal need to possess her, to release the frustration of being swept up in something he couldn’t control. She accepted his possession, submitted to it, rewarding him with the sounds he loved, until his powerful thrusts sent him panting over the edge.