Did I think I was going to find her? Maybe I did, once upon a time.
“I hoped I would,” I answered my father. “When I got to the airport, somehow I knew she wouldn’t have wanted me to. She’d wanted me to live my own life and find my own happiness.”
Daddy kissed the top of my head, and breathed in. “Not a day passes that I don’t wish your sister would one day reappear, that we would find a photograph of her in a magazine, much like how your mother found you. I’d never stopped having you looked after while you were gone. And trust, Nugget, when I say I have yet to stop searching for her.”
After reading Char’s letter for the umpteenth time, I laid my head on the soft pillows, listening to the symphony of nature around me, and the soothing noises of a house settling for the night. Charity, even in her wildest days, had been creative and organized, and my mother had relied heavily upon her talents and skills. Years before, while my father was healthy and admired by all, Mom had pushed him to run for governor. My mother had hopes and dreams. She’d made use of Charity for fundraising events, for Daddy’s campaigns, and whatever she and the Gee-gees, the name Danny came up with for her posse, would come up with. But the pressure on Char had been too much. She hadn’t wanted to be a part of any of it, but day in and day out, she’d done what she was asked.
Nica reminded me of Char, with her innate ability to turn the most boring event into a flamboyant affair. And that was why I’d attached myself to Veronica and never let go.
I dialed her number.
She picked up right away, sounding groggy, “Hey, Chase.”
“Are you in bed already? That little creature tiring you out?”
“It’s not that. We arrived early this morning and I’m just catching up on my sleep.” Nica grunted and the ruffling of the sheets told me she was trying to sit up in bed.
“Arrived where?”
“Oh right.” She paused for a yawn. “We’re in New York City.”
“What are you doing there?”
Nica spoke through another yawn. “Alex called and asked us to come.” His name through my phone made my heart beat in allegro. “He rode his bike all the way here. Anyway, he asked us to come and meet someone.”
“Who?” I sucked in a hiss, hoping Nica couldn’t tell the trepidation in my voice.
“A girl. Levi said she must be someone special for Alex to get us packing in a rush...”
My throat closed up.
Steadying my breathing, I returned to the conversation. Nica was telling me about the party Gerard took over for me, how successful it had been.
“Hey, Nica, I have an idea.”
Nica stammered, “Y—Yeah?”
I gripped my phone tighter and ground my teeth together, trying to keep myself from falling apart. “Why don’t you come and visit me here, since you’re so close?” I cleared my throat so my words came out crystal clear. “Bring Levi...and Alex and his girl.” I might have swallowed that last word. “Mom is having a party for me this weekend.”
“A party? I don’t know if we can make the party, but I would love to see you. I’ll talk to Levi when he gets back. He’s at a fashion show with Alex, playing model.”
“What? You know, I don’t even want to know what that means, but okay. Just call me and let me know when you’re all coming.” And I could make Alex see I was just as happy with Danny as he was with his special someone.
ALEX
The light had been hitting her features just right. If I’d angled the camera another degree to the right, I would have completely missed the little smile playing on the corner of her lips. She had no idea I’d taken the photo, and for a second, it had seemed perverse to do it, but I had to capture the moment she said my name in her sleep.
I’d waited for her to say more. But she’d only followed it with that smile. It was rather brilliant. Beautiful. One that poured out of her soul and melted the iciest of hearts. It was special…unique. She wasn’t the kind of woman who’d offer anything so pure to just anyone. I mattered to her. She smiled because she thought of me.
Did she also dream of me?
“Hayati?” I’d gently swept a finger over her hair. She didn’t stir.
Though I would remember it forever, keep it carved in my heart, the photographer in me had to catch it on film. It was the moment I’d known I wanted to be with her and only her.
“Are you ready?” A tinny voice distracted me.
I cleared my throat, and moved the cursor up the screen to close the window on my MacBook, trembling as though I’d just been caught watching pornography with my trousers down. I couldn’t even remember how long I’d been staring at the photograph. At her.
Cara, with all her youthful exuberance, skipped to me and arranged herself on the sofa, her legs folded under her. “What’s the matter, Alex?” She drew her brows in and cupped my chin to face her. “Are you kicking yourself for saying no to Levi and Veronica?” She pouted.
Pulling away from her, I grabbed a handful of my hair and tugged. “Not at all,” I lied. “There’s nothing there for me.” I fiddled with my watch, and refused to look at her, fearing she’d see the truth in my eyes.
“I heard it’s nice there all year ‘round.” She slid all the way to the other end of the sofa and leaned her head on the armrest, while she swung her legs over my lap. “I wouldn’t mind seeing Vermont. I’ve never been there.”
“You’ve never been anywhere, Cara,” I reminded her, and evaded the topic altogether. “But I’m taking you to France to see Martina before your mother changes her mind...again.” I pushed her legs off my lap, but she instantly brought them back up again. Whoever said sisters were sweet had brothers. “Get off, Cara, I have to shower and get ready for tonight.”
Cara propped herself up, quickly leaned in to sniff me, and lay back down. “Yeah, you need it.” Her laughter filled the lounge.
I pushed her legs off again with more force this time, without hurting her. Cara was as fragile as a girl her age can be, even though she tried to deny it. “Did you make reservations?”
“Duh.” She rolled her eyes.
“It’s a yes or no. I don’t know what ‘duh’ means.” I reached forward to close the lid on my Mac and headed to the bathroom.
“Yes, I did. I had to use my celebrity status to get it too. You owe me one,” she proudly said.
I turned back to face her. “How about I pay for dinner? Is that good enough?” She shrugged and flipped her hair over her shoulder. I took it as an affirmation.
In the glass-enclosed shower, while I tried not to think of the woman who had been haunting me in my sleep, a jarring thought came to mind. Slipping out of the stall, I grabbed a towel and haphazardly wrapped it around my hips, letting soapy water drip all over the rug as I dashed back to the lounge. I found my Mac off, and Cara had returned to her room, where I could hear her singing some obscure pop song. Leaving her alone with access to my laptop had bad written all over it. In a matter of minutes, she would have blogged the goings-on of my life to millions of her social media followers.
The first time I’d experienced the wrath of Cara’s blog entries was the time I’d introduced myself as her half-brother. She’d stood dumbfounded, but little did I know, behind the quiet reception, she was formulating words to her next blog entry. For days afterwards, I’d received emails from random strangers about the heartfelt story of an older half-brother who sought out his younger sister, estranged by the fault of our father. I’d thought it was bizarre.
Then I began receiving attachments of naked, supposedly “single” women of all ages. It turned out, Cara’s second entry had been about my single status, and she’d even included a photo. I’d forced her to take down the posts and got a new email address. Since then, I’d been careful about leaving too much valuable information around her. If Cara found out about Chase, I could only imagine what she would feel compelled to do.
Earlier in the week, Levi and Veronica’s visit had made its way to her blog, even before t
heir plane touched down in New York City. Levi wasn’t too thrilled about it, but his loving wife thought it sweet.
Before returning to the shower, I vowed to delete all of Chase’s photographs. There was no sense of holding onto them, not when she had clearly moved on. Tonight, I told myself, tonight I’ll rid myself of those memories. I would let go of her, once and for all.
By the time I went to bed, after an exhausting dinner with the talkative Cara and her friends, whom she had completely forgotten to inform me were joining us, thoughts of Chase haunted me once again. Her voice filtered into my lulled mind. And if I closed my eyes and forced myself to remember, I could smell the scent of her skin, feel the way the ends of her lush, dark hair tickled my chest while she laid her head on it, and see the complete rapture on her face when she climaxed.
Not since my late ex-fiancée, Simone, had I felt anything like this.
Sleep wouldn’t come tonight, and hadn’t since the day she left. Giving up on it, I walked over to the desk and fired up my Mac, bringing up the photos as soon as I could.
Let me soak her in for one more night, recall the laughter we’d shared together, the feel of her warmth around me, the beat of her heart, the ragged, sweet breaths she released in ecstasy, just for tonight. And tomorrow...tomorrow I would stop chasing the woman who refused to have me in her life.
CHASE
Deft fingers traced lines over my naked back, followed by hovering lips. My skin raised, serotonin pumped furiously out of my brain. I loved this feeling. I loved the way he could turn my insides into mush. He was my serenity.
“Don’t be afraid to take a leap of faith.” I was reawakened by a burning desire for a man who had asked me to take a chance with him.
He whispered my name the moment he filled me, and recklessly I fell into the throes of passion. “Open your eyes, hayati.”
I did.
Oh, how cruel the world could be. When I blinked my eyes open to a pink, floral chintz room, and found myself alone in bed, the weight of loneliness crushed my heart against my chest. I shouldn’t be dreaming of him, but I did because my mind hadn’t been filled with anyone else but him. Whatever happened to “out of sight, out of mind”? Clearly, it had worked for him. Why couldn’t it be the same with me?
I needed a distraction, something to keep myself busy enough I wouldn’t be thinking of that man, who, henceforth would remain nameless.
My phone rang. I snatched it from the bedside.
“Yeah?” I was disgruntled.
“Good morning!”
Before I grunted my answer once again, I coughed to clear my throat. “Good morning, Danny.”
“Still not a morning person, I see,” he joked.
I tried to release a chuckle but it sounded like I was choking on spit instead. “Mornings and I have an understanding.” At least I’d thought so until I moved back here. The summer sun in Stowe loved to get up early. In San Francisco, there were days when the sun didn’t show up until past noon, hiding behind the heavy clouds until it was ready. My kind of sun. I also had had lined blinds to shut out the world. My kind of window dressing.
Danny’s chuckle was different though. It was rough around the edges but sexy and smooth through and through. “I was just talking to your Dad, and he said he’s hoping to take you to the farm today.”
“Oh, is he?” It was nice of people to plan my days for me around here.
“He said you’ve been bored out of your head. So I was wondering...” Danny’s voice lowered. “…if I can take the afternoon off, can I meet you at the farm and take you for a little picnic?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and cracked my jaw. Danny was sweeter than cotton candy. When was the last time I went for a picnic? When was the last time I’d gone on a date?
“You know what, Danny, I’d like to go for a picnic with you.”
“Are you sure? It sounds like you’re not fully convinced.”
He might be right. But what had I told Nica when she came home from Paris after realizing she was in love with the wrong man? (Who turned out to be the right one after all, but that was beside the point). I told her to “buck up, sistah from another mistah.” It was time I sloughed the whine off me.
“I would love to go on a picnic, Danny,” I said again, and this time, with a smile.
“Perfect. Dress for the heat today. It’s bound to be a scorcher.”
After getting off the phone, I had a long shower and rummaged through my luggage for something to wear. I hadn’t unpacked. That would make all of this too real. I pulled out a black tank and ripped jeans. Since I hadn’t worn shorts in San Francisco, mostly for safety reasons when I rode my Harley, I would have to make a pair. I cut the jeans shorter and frayed the edges. Over a black lace bra, I donned a tank top, which read, I’m cute as hell, which incidentally, is where I came from. With a pair of Converse, I was ready for a high-heat, high-humidity day.
When I reached the sunroom where my parents always had their breakfast, my Mom’s glare was enough to melt me on the spot.
“If you think you’re leaving the house with that shirt on, you’ve got another think coming, Chastity!”
I rolled my eyes and begged my father silently to get her off my back. He kept his eyes down, focusing on the local newspaper, but there was a telltale shake of his shoulders from a silent laugh.
“I’m almost thirty years old, Mom. I can—“
“Then dress like one.”
I grunted and groaned and colorful swear words danced on the tip of my tongue. Daddy glanced up from his paper and gave me a pleading look. Fine. He’d better know I was doing this for him. I ran back to my room and picked out a different shirt. A grey tank, which asked people reading the block letter print if my sass was too much for them.
No way was I facing off with my Mom again. She could make me feel like a pouty teenager. And besides, I was still angry at her for not telling me about the party. I went to the kitchen and had a better time eating breakfast while listening to Paul-squared bicker. They reminded me a little of Mateo and Gerard, but I wasn’t going to ask if either of the Pauls were gay.
God, I missed my friends.
Our farm was a twenty-minute drive out of Stowe. Well, the edge of it was. When the boundaries kept going, I asked Daddy how much land he had taken over. He responded with ‘lots’. I made a mental note to ask Danny later.
We brought with us, in an attached trailer smelling of animal dung, the new cow. It was an adorable Holstein. As she made her way out of the trailer, I patted her bum, feeling sorry for the black and white, which would be used for dairy and freshening.
Several people my father greeted seemed to recognize me. Daddy would, seconds later, inform me who the people were. They were a polite bunch, clearly hard-working, much like Daddy. Since he was expected not to work at all, I kept a wary eye on him. If he even lifted a strand of hay, I’d scold him.
Soon after, Danny arrived, and he was as well-known to the workers as my father was. He strutted in jeans and a plain white T-shirt, confidence oozing from his pores. Okay, maybe it was sweat, but even that made him look appealing. I found my throat suddenly as dry as a stack of hay.
As Danny neared, his eyes wandered down to my chest and I caught him grinning at the words on my tank top.
“Your Mom let you wear that out?” he said before he kissed the cheek I offered.
“I evaded. She saw my first choice and got me to change, though.”
Danny let out a small laugh. He led me out of the barn after we said goodbye to my father. Daddy’s right-hand man said he would to report to me if he lifted a finger and promised to get him back home safely.
“Have fun, Nugget,” Daddy said.
Even when we were younger, Danny had always been a gentleman. He opened the door for me, and helped me get settled in his massive Ford truck. I spied the picnic basket sitting on the backseat, and let myself relax.
“Where are we going?” I asked as he settled in the driver’s seat.
Leaning a hand on the back of my seat, he reversed the truck, and answered, “Down toward the lake, then we’ll go for a canoe ride.”
“A canoe ride? You can’t be serious.”
Danny paused and smiled at me, “I don’t ever joke about canoes, Hannah, you know that.” I gave him a playful push on the chest. He captured my hand and kissed my knuckles. And he kept it held in his as we drove north toward a lake Danny and I had frequented when we were younger.
Sure enough, when we got to the edge of the trail, a canoe was waiting for us.
We paddled for a bit. The water was dark green and calm. We pulled the oars in and settled for a picnic on a canoe.
He was reliving our first date. Although some of the details were more elegant and adult this time around—wine, cheese and crusty bread, a bowl of sliced fruits, jam and honey. And unlike the last time we did this, Danny had remembered to bring me sunscreen. Years ago, I’d returned home red as a Maine lobster after being in the sun for too long. And blissfully in love.
Reminiscing was too easy, especially when we were ignoring the obvious. He was on a date with his runaway bride. Despite having talked about it back in his hotel in San Francisco, before I decided to move back, I still wasn’t too sure if he had completely forgiven me. Would I have if he had done the same thing? No, I would have tracked him down and castrated him.
After lunch, we paddled again and ended up at the other end of the lake. We tied the canoe around a tree. Danny dragged me to another part and pointed at a rope hanging off a large branch.
“Remember that?”
“Yeah. What happened to the tire swing?” At the end of the rope, instead of an old tire, which had been there last time I was here, was a long, thick handle, a branch.
“I replaced it,” Danny said while he pulled off his shirt and his jeans, leaving his boxers, thankfully.
I stood with my mouth to the ground. Damn, what a body! How he stayed single all these years was bewildering. “What are you doing?”
Chasing the Runaway Bride (Bliss Series Book 3) Page 13
