by Ivy Raine
“I feel like a kidnap victim,” she grumbled.
“Not unless you’re kidnapping yourself,” said Stash. “You’re driving, remember?”
Marta hit him with the stink eye. “Literally, yes. Figuratively, no.”
Stash laughed. “That’s too deep for me, Miss Marta.”
That was the first time she noticed the sexy dimple in his left cheek. Maybe because it only pinched in when he truly smiled from the inside out and that was something he did little of. She wished he’d do it more often. He had a devastating smile.
She couldn’t digest the concept of what she was doing. This was unlike her in every way and went completely against the ‘safety-girl’ label that had been pasted to her since she was a small child. She was the one to make sure everyone had their seat belt buckled before the car moved, and she always stayed sober at parties so she could drive her friends home if necessary. Safety. Marta knew what could happen if it was abandoned – even if only for a simple afternoon at the beach.
Marta shook her head to chase away the memories. “Connecticut’s a big place, you know. Don’t we kind of need a destination? Maybe a city or something?”
“Who needs a city when we can hang out in a seaside village?” Stash opened her glove compartment and rummaged through it like he owned it. “Ahh!” he said, pulling out a haphazardly folded map. “I knew I’d find one of these in here.”
He splayed it across his legs and ran his finger down over the crinkled mass of red and blue lines. “Here. This sounds good. Lee’s Cove.”
Marta grunted. “You can’t just pick a place to live based on the name! What if we get there and it’s a dump?”
“How can it be a dump? It’s by the ocean.”
Though it was far from a logical explanation, the answer made sense to Marta in a twisted sort of way. She glanced over at him again and this time he caught her looking and grinned.
“Like what you see?” he teased.
Marta frowned. “That’s not what I was thinking, you dope.” In reality, it was, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. “Tell me something,” she said, desperate to change the subject. “What was she like? Your two-timing girlfriend,” she clarified.
Stash clicked his tongue. “And we were having such a nice time.”
Marta figured that was it for that topic of conversation, so she was surprised when he kept talking.
“She’s tall. Probably five eight. And she’s gorgeous. Long, blonde hair, sky blue eyes and a body to die for. And …you’re not talking about what she looks like,” said Stash, holding up his hands to stop the objection that Marta was about to unleash. Something in him changed and his face clouded over. “She’s a monster with an alluring personality that can suck you in and suffocate you in her charms. She’s fun to be around and isn’t afraid to try anything. But she’s missing something inside of her. I wouldn’t exactly say she was without a heart, but something harder to put a finger on. It’s like she has no soul of her own so she borrows from whoever is closest to her. Friend, lover, mother, garbage man. And when she’s done bleeding you dry, she moves on to the next unsuspecting victim.”
“Wow.” Marta glanced over and was startled to see the level of anger on his face. “Hey!” she said, gently punching him in the arm. “Forget about her. She’s obviously a narcissist and isn’t capable of love. Not real love. So you’re much better off.”
He rubbed his hands over his face. “Now I know how the previous guy felt. I used to think he was a loser because he couldn’t hold on to her. She gave me a sob story about how he mistreated her. If he did, I can understand why. She’s a demon disguised as an angel.”
Marta knew all about those types of girls. They seemed to dig their perfect claws down into the naïve flesh of the hot guys – the guys who never dreamed that they’d be the ones kicked to the curb when something better came along. Sure, some of the guys had it coming to them, but it changed them and made them the ultimate users of anything with two legs and a vagina. Maybe Marta was just biased because she’d never been wronged by a man, but the hate emanating from a vicious female, one who desperately wanted you to suffer just for being female yourself, was not foreign to her.
“Look how blue the sky is!” Marta just wanted out of this conversation that was leading down into the depths of emotional hell.
“Almost as blue as your eyes.”
She could feel Stash staring at her, scouring every inch of her. “How many miles?” she said.
“Until what?”
“Um. Connecticut?”
Annoyed that he had to tear his eyes away, Stash opened the map again. “Between a hundred and twenty and a hundred and fifty, depending on the roads. Three or four hours should get us there.”
Marta sighed internally. The sooner they got to where they were going, the better. Stash was too intense and she could feel him all around her like a heavy, moisture-laden cloud ready to pour down on her at any moment. Thankfully, Stash decided his time would be better spent examining the inside of his eyelids. That didn’t bother Marta. She needed the silence to plan her exit. Surely he didn’t expect her to play house until Elliot Enterprises graced her with a telephone call. No. She’d just stay with him long enough to save the money to get her through a couple of months in the city. If Elliot’s didn’t call within that amount of time, then they weren’t calling at all.
With a hundred miles of road eaten up, Stash was still asleep, his head was cocked to the side and his mouth gaping. Marta nudged his arm to make sure he was still alive.
“Are we there?” Stash blinked his lovely gray eyes and wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth. “Oh, god. I can’t believe I slept that long,” he said, glancing at the clock on the dash. “Why didn’t you wake me up? You must’ve been bored as hell.”
Marta laughed. “I’ve had a fine time with myself. We didn’t argue or anything, and I never once had to tell myself to shut up.”
Stash ran a hand through his hair. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re screwed in the head?”
“Only every other day,” said Marta. “On the off days they just tell me I need medicated.”
“Well, do you?” Stash looked at her like it was a serious question that demanded an answer.
Marta raised a brow. “I hope you’re joking.” When Stash didn’t answer, Marta became defensive. “I’m more sane than you’ll ever be Stash Steele! I’ll have you know that I come from a long line of strong minds. And we don’t put up with cocky bullshit from random people who hitch their way around,” she added with a quick nod of the head.
Stash laughed. “Just for your information, I don’t normally hitch my way around, as you call it. My car was stolen by my lovely ex-girlfriend and her new golden nugget.”
“Did you report it?” Marta couldn’t believe someone would just up and leave the state – especially having to resort to hitch hiking to do it
“No, I did not.” The way he so crispy enunciated each of the words made Marta think there was more to this car theft saga than she was being told. “Unfortunately, the car was put in her name so there’s not much I can do about it except keep paying the bill on the third of every month. What a waste,” he said. “And I don’t even get anything in return.”
He was doing it again – raking his eyes across her body, visually undressing her.
“Don’t go getting any ideas about me,” Marta protested. “I’m not fresh meat and I’m not paying the tab.”
Stash smiled. Oh what a glorious sight! “I’ll get as many ideas as my mind will allow before it purges all the old meat and keeps only the fresh meat – also known as Marta.”
Marta’s fingers gripped the wheel in a strangle hold. “I think we need to discuss. First of all, this isn’t going anywhere. We were thrown together by a twisted series of events, not by some cosmic cupid. Second. You’re not my type.” She really, really hated to say those words, because it wasn’t true. He was her type and fell within the very limited set of criteria sh
e had for a man. He was gorgeous, smart, had a semblance of a sense of humor, even if it was crude, and he was single – at least for now.
The dejected shadow on Stash’s face told Marta she’d hit a nerve. “And I suppose if I had a million bucks in the bank, I’d be Mr. Right.”
Marta groaned. “Will you get over the money thing? This has nothing to do with money. I don’t care if you winter under a bridge in Florida or if you own the bridge in Florida. The point is, we’re just too…different. You’re obviously a worldly sort of guy, and I’m the girl who runs home to Mom when someone teases her. Do you realize that this little adventure we’re on is the first time I’ve ever gone against logic? Well, maybe not exactly the first time,” she admitted, remembering back, “but you get the point. You, on the other hand, have absolutely no problem hitching a ride with a complete stranger to god knows where.”
“I beg to differ.” Stash crossed his leg and laced his fingers behind his head. “Let’s not forget who picked up this complete stranger and is currently giving him a ride to god knows where.”
He had a point, and Marta couldn’t logically argue with it, but that didn’t change the fact that she didn’t want this to escalate – couldn’t let this escalate. “Well, those facts aside, I’m not ready for any kind of relationship whether it’s serious or just passing in the night.”
Stash just stared at her like she was from a distant planet. “You’re kidding me, right? You’re a virgin and you’re not ready for this?” He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re one strong woman, Marta.”
No, not really. Terrified, maybe. Strong, no. Marta found herself once again wishing the topic of the conversation would lead away from her.
“What do you do for a living, Stash?”
“I’m a mechanic of sorts. I fix things. Take care of things. You know. Things.”
Marta frowned. It sounded more like a wayward beach bum lifestyle. “On a regular basis or just when the fancy strikes?”
“Usually when I’m feeling it.” Stash pointed to the side of the road. “Like I am right now. Why don’t you pull over and I’ll drive for a while.”
“Yeah. I’m getting kind of tired.” Marta eased the van off the side of the road and extracted herself from the seat. It felt good to stand and stretch her legs. With her limbs still a little stiff, she stumbled around the front of the van and tripped right into Stash’s arms. “I’m so sorry!” she said, trying to pull away.
Stash held fast to her elbows. “I’m not.” He wrapped one of his arms around her shoulders. “Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe we should take a little walk. I’ve heard you can get blood clots in your legs from sitting in the same position for too long.”
Marta breathed in. A heavenly scent was emanating from something. It was part musk and part salty sea air. A bit of embarrassment ran internally when she realized that at least half of the smell was wafting up from Stash. She cleared her throat and gently pulled away. “I think I smell the ocean. Are we near?”
“We should be.” Stash corralled Marta around to the passenger’s side and waited until she was in before shutting her door. He hurried back around and took over the helm. “According to the map, this highway runs right along the ocean.”
With Stash at the wheel, Marta finally felt free to take in the sights. “It’s really pretty, and I can’t believe we locked out the smell!” She flipped the button and wound down her window, letting the delicious breeze whip through her chocolate curls. “I love the ocean.”
A jolt of panic shot through her. She loved the ocean – as long as she didn’t have to set foot in it or near it. The memories were still raw and jagged. Six years had passed and the thought of the sand, sun, and crashing waves still made her nauseated, so when Stash jumped off the highway and pointed her clunker straight toward the ominous blue haze off in the distance, Marta felt her blood pressure rise.
“What are you doing?” She sat up straight, gripping the edge of her seat.
“I thought we’d go and take a walk and maybe get something to eat.”
Marta tried to calm her racing heart, reiterating the same thing she’d told herself hundreds of times over the last few years. “It wasn’t your fault, Marta. It was an accident.”
“Are you hungry?” Stash’s voice jerked her back to reality. “If you say you’re not, you’re lying. It’s been hours.”
“Um. A little.” Actually, she wasn’t. The knots took up all the room in her stomach.
“Good, because I can smell seafood in the air. Lobster, haddock, shrimp. Yum!” Stash reached over and grabbed her hand. “Hey! Are you okay? You’re as pale as a pirate’s sail.”
Marta managed a half grin at Stash’s lame attempt at humor. “Just tired. It’s been an extra-long day.”
In a little over nine hours, Marta had met Stash, had her dream job ripped away from her, and had set out for lands unknown with a man who left her breathless with his smile. It was a lot to take in for a girl who never strayed more than a few miles from her house.
“You’ll feel better once you get something to eat.” Stash patted her hand. “Especially oysters.”
Even in her state of mental turmoil, Marta didn’t miss that one. “I’ll pass, and so will you.”
Stash’s warm, safe laugh echoed all around her. How could she possibly feel this comfortable with a complete stranger? Marta shook her head to jostle away the feeling. She had to be on her toes at all times. She was, after all, safety-girl.
“Wow! Look at that!” Stash’s face lit up as they went around a sharp bend.
Marta perked up, struggling to see past the bar of sand on her side of the road. That’s when it came into view – the ocean. The massive body of water reflected back the remnants of the sun as it dipped in the western sky, and the seagulls swooped down for their evening meal. Beachgoers jogged or walked along the shore while the kids combed the beach for the latest cache of tidal shells. It was beautiful, yet oxygen constricting. Marta paced her breathing and forced her throat to relax. This was no place to have a panic attack.
Thankfully, the road veered away from the ocean and back up in toward the plethora of dining establishments dotting the placid shoreline.
“That looks like a winner!” Stash nodded toward a little diner sitting off by itself. Fishing nets decorated the outside, draping down over either side of the doorway.
“You know,” said Marta, taking a quick sniff of her blouse. “Between the seafood and what’s already lingering on us, we’re gonna smell just lovely.”
Throwing open the van door, Stash wasted no time in getting out. “So we’ll stink together.”
Marta laughed. Together. That word sounded so nice. If only… “You’re the boss.” She found the words slipped out of her mouth so easily.
Stash caught up her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “And don’t you forget it.”
“Now, now,” warned Marta. “I’ll play along, but remember what I said. You’re not my type.”
***
“Thank you for dinner. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much seafood at one time. I’ll be surprised if I don’t sprout fins.”
Stash hit the automatic unlock on the keys. “You’d make a gorgeous mermaid.”
Marta stopped and eyed up the ocean.
“Wanna go down?”
“No! Not…now,” she said, catching her wind whipped skirt.
“Well, if it’s not now, then it’s never because we’ve got to get back on the road. Our jobs await!”
Just the mere mention of the word ‘jobs’ gave Marta a jolt of energy. She almost didn’t care what kind of job it was as long as it paid her with the good, old greenback.
“We won’t get there until after dark,” said Stash, looking at the time on the dash. “That hour and a half we wasted really cut into our travel time.” He looked over at Marta. “Well, maybe ‘waste’ isn’t the right word.”
“Pay attention to the road,” Marta chastised as he drifted toward the shoulde
r. “The drunks come out to play after dark.” Though only teasing, Marta noticed Stash’s grip on the wheel was turning his knuckles white. “Did I say something wrong?”
Stash relaxed and unclenched the muscles he’d tensed. “No. And you’re right. With the night come the drunks.”
Marta felt a wash of sleepiness drape over her like a soft blanket, and at some point she fell asleep. She normally couldn’t do that when someone else was driving, but with Stash at the wheel, she felt totally safe.
“Hey!” She felt a gentle nudge against her arm. “Wake up, sleepy head. We’re here.”
Marta pried her eyes open, hoping her contacts were still in place. “Where’s here?” she said, straining to see through the black of night.
“Hook’s Cove Castle.”
“Hook’s Cove what?” It took a second or two for Marta to realize the haze over her eyes wasn’t her contact lenses, but thick fog.
“Castle,” Stash repeated. “But, have no fear. It isn’t actually a castle or anything even remotely close. Castle’s just a pretty word added on to make the dump seem a little more inviting.”
Marta reached to the seat behind her and dragged her enormous bag up onto her lap. “Does it have a bed?”
“It used to. I haven’t been here for almost five years so it might not even have a roof for all I know.”
“You own it?” That would make sense as to why he wanted to get to Connecticut. Marta stepped out of the nice, warm car and into the enveloping dampness that clung to her skin like plastic wrap.
“Not exactly,” said Stash, taking Marta by the hand. “The family owns it and we all share. Be careful where you step. If I remember correctly, the planks were a little dubious years ago and they can only have gotten worse.”
Between the darkness and the fog, Marta was happy to catch a glimpse of her feet as they blindly shuffled along. The planks in question seemed solid enough, but without light it was impossible to tell for sure. A fog horn bleated its sad song across the water.
“Wow. We must be pretty close to the ocean.”
“We are,” said Stash, fumbling with the lock. “It’s right out your back door.”
