by Coralie Moss
Leo gave a quiet cough and took a deep breath. “Before we get started, I just want you to know I’ve never done anything like this with anyone.”
His words vibrated through the wall of his chest and into her back. A flutter of nervous energy zipped up her front and back, and the beating of little wings wasn’t coming only from her flock.
“This is all so new to me too,” she admitted. “Do you want to go first?”
“You start. We worked to my rhythm at the workshop.”
Anna closed her eyes. Sunshine warmed one side of her face and the top of her head. She relaxed her jaw, closed her mouth, and brought attention to her inhale, followed by her exhale, over and over. She struggled with exaggerating each breath, wanting Leo to feel her ribcage expanding and contracting.
When she was able to stop overthinking—and micromanaging—every movement and allowed herself to sink into sensation, their breath and bodies synchronized naturally.
“It was easier for me to focus when Gaia was talking us through what to do.”
Sharing that was a relief. Leo hummed a quiet agreement. The novelty of being alone in her house with a man she was attracted to continued to feel just this side of awkward, but every tandem breath soothed another rough edge. Anna decided she could be happy with this, with sunshine at her front, a man’s warmth cradling her back. She leaned more of her weight against his expansive upper torso and gave a silent wish Leo would talk some more.
“I read something last night, a variation I’d like to try.” His voice, resonant and quiet, wrapped around her upper chest and soothed her fluttery belly.
“What is it?”
“After we breathe in, pause for a second or two then breathe out.”
“Okay.”
They paused, in tandem. Anna concentrated on not lifting her shoulders. It helped if she relaxed her entire arm down to her palm and fingertips.
“Now reverse it,” he said, after half a dozen slow breaths. “And do the holding thing after you breathe out.”
That was nice too. Gave her a sense they were waiting, together, in no rush to get on to the next thing, whatever the next thing might be. Birdsong coming from the tall bushes outside one of the windows added a delicacy to the moment.
Without either of them suggesting they move on to the next exercise, they stopped. Anna’s mind scrolled through what should come next. On the one hand, she knew it was fine to sit in silence. On the other hand, sitting in silence took practice, and no matter how nice it felt to have Leo at her back, he was still a stranger. Mostly.
“I’d like to try that one where we move the breath up and down the spine,” she offered, pleased she’d remembered an exercise she’d practiced a couple of times on her own on the ferry.
“Show me.” Leo peeled away. He shifted, placing one hand to the outside of her right hip so his chest was half turned in her direction. She opened the book and pointed. His breath fanned over her shoulder, warming her earlobe and the side of her neck.
“What do you think about this one?” She traced her finger over a drawing of two people, seated and facing each other, one leg over the other’s thigh. Swirling, colorful lines circled the bodies, illustrating the direction their breath and awareness should circulate throughout the exercise.
Leo reached for the book, the length of his arm brushing against hers. “That looks complicated, but we did something similar in the second workshop, so, yeah, sure.” He placed the open book on the floor next to the two cushions and waited for Anna to pivot and get situated before he bent his right leg in front of him. “Place your right leg like this. Then put your left leg over my right thigh.”
Anna giggled. Her butt was too close to the edge of her cushion, and she almost fell backward. Leo reached behind her, his hand supporting her lower back while she maneuvered her leg over his. She was having the hardest time staying on task. The warmth emanating from Leo’s hands and arms was distracting, and the sunlight kept doing that…thing in his hair.
“My turn.” He grinned as he wrapped his left leg over her right thigh with the grace of a dancer. He bent his knee enough to snug his leg behind her, on the pillow. Anna copied the move, which led to their chests touching, followed by an awkward retreat.
“Are you expecting any visitors?” He whipped out his smile again, one hand still supporting her back. Anna shook her head.
“No,” she said, affecting a serious contemplation of her day’s schedule, “although I usually put a do not disturb sign on the door when I’m entertaining gentleman callers.”
“You entertain like this a lot?” he teased.
Anna dropped her gaze. Her bravado dropped with it. She held onto Leo’s elbows and lifted her face. “No, actually, I don’t.”
His hand remained steady and firm. He spread his fingers, rubbed her sacrum, and cupped her chin with his other hand. “I didn’t mean to insinuate anything, Saff. I haven’t done any entertaining for more than a year. Cancer kind of kicked me to the curb, and some things aren’t working the way they used to.”
Anna closed her eyes, reached to steady herself, and stumbled over the words caught at the gate to her vocal chords. She wanted to match Leo’s openness, but her one-on-one-with-a-hot-guy social skills were beyond rusty. They were rusted stuck, with no verbal equivalent of WD-40 in sight, nothing to smooth the way, and she wasn’t even going to think about the packets of personal lubricant in her bedside table drawer.
“After my husband died, I—”
“Saffron, look at me.” Leo’s forefinger supported her chin while the tip of his thumb traced the curve under her lower lip. His eyes held as many shades of brown as the under bark of centuries-old cedar trees. Coastal island life went about its business beyond the walls and windows of her cottage while her breath went shallow.
He brought her face closer until they were cheek to cheek.
“Do you think we could kiss?” he whispered, his words molding into the curve of her temple where it met the round of her cheekbone. “There’s an entire section in the book about kissing, but it’s a few chapters ahead of where we are now.”
“I think we could,” Anna answered, matching her whisper to his. “It’s just that you should know I’m…”
Leo’s hand was there, under her chin, when he brought his lips to meet hers. She let go of the death grip on his elbows and lifted her face. She wanted to hear, or feel, some signal from inside that she was ready for this, that she truly wanted this contact.
Their breath mingled. Leo waited. She waited.
“You’re what, Saffron?” he whispered.
Anna licked her lower lip with the tip of her tongue, a move that separated top from bottom. The barest turn of her face fit her mouth more intimately to Leo’s. She hurried her hands along his arms and over his shoulders until they reached his neck where she could tangle her fingers in his curls and pull him close.
The bridgeless chasm from the other night rose inside her chest and up into her throat, bringing memories of other first kisses. And last kisses. She stepped one foot into the space above the chasm, her bravery met by Leo’s gentle touch.
The hand he kept under her chin went to the back of her head, while his other pressed against her lower back. Anna’s tongue found his mouth, licked his teeth and his lips, taking in his taste and texture like he was coated in the richest, most decadent buttercream frosting she’d ever indulged.
He tasted her in response, adding her chin and jaw to his sampling. Anna’s eyes stayed half open, and when Leo noticed, he grinned mid-kiss and directed his gaze over her cheek, down the side of her neck, and between her breasts with deliberate, searing, slowness.
Slow. Leo kissed slow. His pace conveyed he wasn’t in a rush. She responded by sinking her body into his hands, her curves filling the cup of each palm. Their first kiss ended with a sigh. She relaxed her fisted hands, traced shaking fingertips over the curves of his lips and the rough ends of the scruff along his jawline.
“Saffron.”
>
“Leo.”
“Could we keep kissing? I’m pretty sure there are a few more positions in the book, and I…” He hesitated, drew away.
“Want to try them all?” she finished.
“Yes, but I should warn you I’m an overachiever. I like to get things right.”
Anna’s body, at least the parts able to communicate, was mostly on the side of yes. The other parts—shy and out of practice—paced the sidelines, playbooks in hand, unsure how to enter the game. She was taking too long to respond.
Leo cupped her face. “Did that feel like I was pushing you?”
“No, not at all. I…” She took a big breath in, let it go, figured out what she wanted to ask. Too many memories in her bedroom. Too many memories throughout the entire house. “Would you mind if we went to your cottage? I think the change would be better for me.”
Leo pressed his forehead to hers. “I didn’t come over here to seduce you, Saff. That’s not what I was thinking.”
But it’s what I was wanting, deep down—very, very deep down. So far down I didn’t know it was on its way up until that kiss, Leo. Please, tell me I’m not alone, that I’m not making this up.
“Okay, maybe I was thinking about sex a little,” he admitted. “But sex isn’t what I’m looking for, not today. When I said I felt comfortable with you, I meant it, but I didn’t mean it in a purely Platonic way.”
Anna tilted her head, flustered. He interlaced his fingers behind her, holding her tight in the circle of his arms. Frustration tinged with the high color of embarrassment flushed across his cheeks.
“Saffron, I’m sorry. Let me see if I can try expressing this without sticking my foot in my mouth.” He looked to the ceiling, blew out a short breath, and returned his gaze to hers. “I wanted to kiss you at the workshop, so imagine my surprise and delight when I saw you sitting on a rock in front of the very house I rented? Best thing I’ve ever found on a beach,” he admitted, “and I’d be happy to escort you to my house.”
Every one of those words made her smile.
Chapter Six
Anna pressed a hand against the wall by the door and slipped her bare feet into the waiting gardening clogs. Leo placed their water glasses on the counter, and led the way as they walked the short distance to the other cottage in silence. She hadn’t been inside in years, not since the MacMaster family and hers joined with other neighbors for summertime barbeques and beach picnics.
Stepping through the familiar French doors, she approved the recent improvements, which included placing the mattress and box springs in the living room in front of the double doors and giving the walls a coat of paint. The cottage was clean, sparsely furnished, and cold.
“Is this what you were doing the other day?” she asked. “I noticed you moving a lot of furniture and stuff out of the house.”
“I came here for the view and that back room has transom windows and no view. I like the bed out here.”
Anna paused at the foot of the mattress and took in the unobstructed vista across the short lawn to the cove. “I agree.”
An awkward charge built in the silence.
She stroked Leo’s arm and wove her fingers through his. “Do you want to talk or something?”
“I want to kiss you more, Saffron-by-the-Sea. But I want to know about you too.” His words coaxed her onto the bed. He pulled at the rumpled quilt and lay on his back, his head on one half of the only pillow.
Anna crawled alongside him and propped herself on one elbow. “For right now, this is enough for me.”
Leo rolled to his side, facing her. “I’d like to share something personal with you. Would that be all right?”
He brought his hand to rest at the side of her waist, cupping the gap where her cropped sweater slipped away from her pants. Staring, he pressed his thumb into the dip at the side of her belly, followed the swell, and nestled into the hollow of her navel. He appeared to be captivated by the terrain of her midsection.
The sureness of his touch coaxed Anna into relinquishing some of her resistance. “Yes. And I’ll share something too. Bravery in anonymity?”
His hand quieted on the small patch of exposed skin. He nodded. “I had testicular cancer. The treatments left me cancer free, but they also left me…” He smirked, returned to fiddling with the edge of Anna’s sweater before looking at her full on. “They also left me with erectile dysfunction. And I’m telling you, not because I’m making any assumptions about where this is going, but because I want you to know that however I react physically, it’s about me, not you.”
Anna froze a little. He’d mentioned cancer and his ex when they’d met on the rock at the beach. It made sense he wouldn’t share every detail in that earlier moment. She once again held up a palm to her maternal side and waited for Leo to continue.
“My ex didn’t mean to contribute to my distress, but the changes in my ability to perform sexually had a lot to do with our break up. I’ve felt like less of a man, although I’m working on those feelings.”
She placed her hand on top of his, right where her belly’s plumpness bothered her the most, and interlaced their fingers.
“So, that’s my big secret,” he finished, “and that’s why I decided to take the intimacy workshop. I want to feel whole again, and I know it’s going to take time. I’m willing to be patient. But it’s frustrating. Really, really frustrating.”
He pulled his hand away from Anna’s and picked at the bedcover. His watch ticked out the seconds, and the minutes. She focused on the sound, not on the way he’d withdrawn from their physical connection. He was right—this part was about him, not her.
“You’re the only person I’ve mentioned this to, outside of my doctor. I don’t mean to put any pressure on you, but maybe you’re right and there is something about being new to each other that allows me to confide in you more than I would someone else I’d just met.”
Anna slid one finger toward his, hooking it into the same hole in the patched cloth. “And what if your reaction to me is positive?”
He looked up quickly and grinned. “Then that would be a step in a very encouraging direction, and I would welcome that kind of progress. But even if parts of me don’t respond in the way I want, or you want, don’t take it personally if my penis appears to be suffering from a lack of enthusiasm.”
Leo seemed to try to keep his voice unaffected, but a light tremor shifted through the muscles in his face.
She traced her knuckles across one cheek and lowered her hand. “I think your kisses are very encouraging, and I like how they make me feel.”
“I like your kisses too. So, what’s your personal confession?”
Anna sighed. She hadn’t even broached this with Elaine. “When my birthday came around, it really sunk in that I’m fifty years old, and I’m single and having a hard time imagining what it will take to start dating again. I feel invisible to men, and I’m close to giving up.”
“Giving up what?” Leo tucked a stubborn lock of hair behind her ear.
She would so much rather be kissing him than talking about being a fifty-year-old widow. Mentioning her age and relationship status was like handing over a whole stack of Get Out of Jail Free cards the moment someone younger or more interesting walked into his view.
Nevertheless, she forged ahead. “Giving up on being intimate again or even starting to date, among other things. I kind of stopped thinking about all that because it really didn’t feel appropriate for a long time after my husband died, and then, I think, somehow people stopped seeing me.”
And I stopped wanting to be seen as a potential sexual partner.
“I don’t understand how you could ever be invisible.”
Anna paused and studied the contours of his face before locking onto his gaze. Did he really mean that? “Do you remember the first time we met?”
“At the workshop? Yes, absolutely.”
She shook her head. “We met before that, last Monday. We were both at the market, and you asked me
about the coffee grinder.”
“I remember asking.” His gaze wavered. “But I don’t remember it being you.”
“That’s kind of what I’m talking about, and it happens more than I’d like to admit.” She pressed her lips together and held tighter to the quilt.
“I’m sorry, Anna. I really am.”
She he had to take ownership of Monday’s missteps, from her hastily wrangled hair to her choice of wardrobe, and her assumption about her clients. “It’s okay; it really is. I’m partially to blame. I kind of made myself unnoticeable, embraced the whole disappearing thing without being aware of what I was doing.” She brought her lips to the side of Leo’s mouth and kissed him. “And now, I like not being invisible. So, thank you for seeing me.”
Leo responded to her kiss, rubbed at her temple with his thumb, and broke away. “Stay right there.”
He rolled off the mattress, strode barefoot to the small table near the kitchen, and picked up the sketchbook lying open next to a jar filled with pencils. Anna soaked in the view, going and coming.
“I drew these after the first workshop,” he said, rejoining her on the bed.
She took the offered book in both hands. Leo had drawn a woman, naked, all robust curves. The woman appeared to be his lover. She turned the page and was greeted by more sketches of the same woman, in different poses. “Is this your ex?”
“Saffron, it’s you.” He pointed at the page for emphasis. “I had dinner by myself after the first workshop, and I was planning to write up my notes, but instead, I felt compelled to draw you. From memory.”
“These are beautiful,” she said, in awe of his talent and unable to process his confession.
“You are beautiful.”
Anna looked up from where her fingers traced the curves Leo had drawn with such attention to detail. The artist had a palpable appreciation for the female form. For her female form. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a very long time.”
