All the Way to Shore

by CJane Elliott

  “Not at all.” Jonah rested his head against Marco’s shoulder, and their hands found each other again.

  They fell silent listening to the Chopin, and a rare contentment rose in Marco. If this could be my life, he thought. Not being on an island, but enjoying the simple pleasures with a companion like Jonah. And not only the simple pleasures, but following these whims that seemed outside of any game plan or to-do list. Only they weren’t mere whims—they were more like imperatives from the soul, or something.

  My God, get it together, Pellegrini. But right on the heels of that thought was another, stronger one: Just let go and let it happen.

  MEL PULLED up to a small chapel, whitewashed and with a wood cross on top. When they pushed open the dark wooden doors, the chapel opened up, bigger than it appeared from the outside. The crucifix hung over a simple altar, and there were votives on a table to one side, a sole lit candle casting a flickering shadow. The smells—incense and beeswax and flowers on the altar—stirred deep memories in Marco of the years he’d spent at St. Leonard’s, the neighborhood Catholic church all the Italian families attended. Strange that this church in the middle of the Caribbean would smell the same.

  Marco crossed over to the table, wanting to light a candle for Mama’s soul. He beckoned to Jonah, who joined him. “Do you want to light a candle for your mother?”

  “Yes, of course,” Jonah whispered and lit one of the votives, then took a step back to watch the flame.

  Marco lit his own candle. Love you, Mama. Always. And suddenly he heard Mama’s voice loud and clear. That Jonah’s a good man, tesoro. I can see he makes you happy. He turned to Jonah, who was gazing at him with his clear blue eyes, and said, “I’m going to go sit in a pew for a few minutes.” To pray. But Marco didn’t tell him that.

  He left Jonah studying the statue of Joseph and entered a pew, then pulled out the kneeler and sank to his knees, bowing his head.

  Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. The words formed in his mind by rote, but he stopped to think about what they meant for him. Where had he sinned?

  I have sinned by leading Ashley on and engaging her affections when I had none for her. I have sinned by denying myself real love and a full life that isn’t all work. I’ve sinned by focusing on money and power to the exclusion of almost anything else.

  And now for gratitude. Thank you, God, for giving me so many second chances to get things right. Thank you for my health and for my sister and Bunny. And now thank you for Jonah because I have no doubt it was You who sent him into my life.

  Footsteps sounded, but Marco kept his eyes closed until organ music filled the air. He raised his head in wonder as someone played a brilliant rendition of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor. Jonah entered the pew and sat beside Marco as he knelt.

  “This is wonderful.” Jonah’s voice was barely a whisper. “Mel said it’s almost time for 5 p.m. Mass, which is why the organist is here.”

  Marco rose to sit by Jonah, who took his hand, and listened, spellbound by the magnificent chords reverberating through the small church. A glance at Jonah showed him enthralled as well. Sharing this moment with him, feeling Jonah’s energy through his touch, only increased Marco’s awe. Tendrils of hope rose like the smoke from the candles.

  Life could be like this.

  JONATHAN BLINKED away the tears the organ music had brought to his eyes, then realized he wasn’t crying only from the music’s overwhelming beauty. He missed Mother. How she would have loved this whole day. And he grieved, not only for her loss, but for the gray, sad life he’d lived, never permitting himself to revel in the things he loved. Never allowing himself to have a partner to share them with. Marco squeezed his hand, and Jonathan drank in his warm presence.

  “What is it?” Marco whispered.

  “Everything. I’m kind of reevaluating my whole life, is all.”

  Marco nodded. “A little self-reflection is a good thing. Anything you want to share?”

  “Yes. But not here. Back onboard ship with a Caribbean Zombie.”

  “Good plan!”

  As they got back into Mel’s cab, Jonathan was still shaking with the knowledge that had washed over him in the church—that he had denied himself beauty, joy, and love as much as he had denied himself being who he really was. Gray was the word that kept coming up as he looked back on the landscape of his life. Gray, with occasional bright spots.

  Even though the cottage had been a healing place this past year, he realized he missed Boston. His chamber chorale, hanging out with Anthony, the bustle of activities, and the people. He loved solitude, but too much wasn’t good even for an introvert like him. Maybe I should get a place in Boston when I get back. Nothing big—a townhouse with a little patch of ground in the back to make a flower garden and for Cantata to get outside. He could live there some of the time and live at the Cape the rest. And he couldn’t deny that a large part of Boston’s appeal was that Marco lived there.

  “You’re so thoughtful.”

  Marco’s voice brought him back to the present as the cab wound through the rain forest and began its descent to the beach road.

  “Oh. I’m thinking about making a few changes.”

  “Change is good.” Marco gave a decisive nod. “Sometimes you get to a point where whatever you’ve been working on is complete, and it’s time to move on. Not good to hang on to things after their expiration date.”

  “Yeah.” Marco’s business acumen shone through even when he was relaxing. He’d be a good person to have around if Jonathan was serious about changing his life.

  Marco settled back in the seat. “Like this job I’ve been doing for the past year, being the CEO of Vallen Industries. It had been run almost into the ground by the owner, who was trying to make his son take over when the son clearly wasn’t interested.”

  Jonathan gulped in air and promptly had a coughing fit.

  “You okay?” Marco patted his back, eyebrows drawn together. He produced a water bottle from his knapsack and handed it over. “Here, drink some water.”

  “Yeah, sorry,” Jonathan wheezed. He took a sip of water, trying to pull himself together. “Thanks. So you’re done with that job?” He hoped like hell Marco would skip ahead in the story to whatever he was going to do now.

  Marco took back the water bottle and drank. “Yep. I turned the company around, which was satisfying. And now I’m ready for whatever’s next.”

  They turned onto the coast road. The azure sea sparkled in the sunlight, and Marco’s eyes seemed to sparkle behind his glasses.

  “Do you have any ideas?” Jonathan wished he could catch some of Marco’s can-do energy. Optimism was such an attractive quality.

  Marco tangled his fingers in Jonathan’s hair at the back of his neck. Jonathan loved the way Marco touched him, like he had a right to. But more than that, like he wanted to.

  “You know, I have no idea. I’m hoping this vacation will help me decide. It’s already putting some things into perspective.”

  “For me too. I’m glad Anth—Andrew made me come.”

  Marco laughed. “Andrew’s a trip. It must be fun to have him as a cousin.”

  “Fun with a big helping of pain in the ass. But I love him.”

  Mel pulled up next to the cruise ship dock. “Back on time, just like I promised. It’s been a pleasure driving you gents.”

  “You gave us the royal treatment, Mel.” Jonathan pulled out a couple of twenties to hand to him. “Thanks for taking us to those gardens.”

  “No worries, mon.”

  Marco handed him more bills. “Thank you. It was a great ride, and I’ll never forget listening to the organ in that church.”

  “Glad to be of service.” Mel touched his cap in a salute. “Thanks for the tips, gentlemen, and hope to see you again someday.”

  They walked up the gangplank, arm in arm. After making plans to meet at the poolside bar in half an hour, they separated to go to their cabins.

  Jonathan wandered down the hallway
in a daze. He felt forever changed. Even if everything fell to shit once he revealed who he was to Marco, Jonathan knew something about himself and his life from this day. Life was for living. He’d never forget that again.

  Chapter NINE

  MARCO HAD just gotten out of the shower when he heard a knock on his door. “Who is it?” he called, half hoping it was Jonah.

  “Your darling sister. Open up!”

  “Hold on, lemme put some pants on.”

  Sophia’s laughter sounded as he draped the towel over his neck and pulled up his shorts. He yanked open the door. She posed for him, lovely in a sundress with bright orange poppies.

  “Bellissima, sorellina!”

  “Grazie, fratello.” She surveyed him. “You’re not going to dinner like that, are you?”

  “What, half-naked with my hair all wet? What’s wrong with that? Isn’t tonight the wet T-shirt party?”

  “Very funny. Actually, there’s no theme for tonight. But at least wear a shirt.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” After toweling his hair, he took a raw-silk Hawaiian shirt from the small closet. It was crimson, and Marco knew it set off his olive skin and dark eyes. “How’re you feeling? You seem better.”

  “I am. I think I was hungover. I’m not letting that devil Andy talk me into so many mai tais tonight. He tried to get me to drink a second mudslide at lunch, but I resisted.”

  “What’s a mudslide?”

  Sophia’s eyes grew wide. “God, it’s so good! It’s got vodka and Kahlúa and Bailey’s Irish Cream, all blended up with ice. Kind of like a milkshake, only with alcohol.”

  “Sounds sinful.”

  “Totally. Andy and I lazed in the sun for most of the day. Then he got picked up by a cute guy and I took a nap.”

  “Have you met anyone interesting? Besides Andy?” Marco raised his eyebrow at her.

  Sophia smirked. “Not yet, but give me time. I’ve got my eye on a few beauties I saw sunning on the deck today.” She stretched and gave a happy sigh, then wandered over to the desk and picked up a manila envelope. “Who’s sending you mail?”

  “Frederick Vallen. Who else? They’re faxes, since I’m not on my phone or e-mail.” Marco clenched his jaw. “The man’s an insane workaholic, and I already told him no.”

  “That’s right. Stick to your guns. You’ve got more important things to do.” She tossed the envelope back on the stack, then raised her own eyebrow at him. “How was your day with Jonah?”

  “Nice.”

  She frowned. “Is that all I get? ‘Nice’? Come on.”

  “One of the nicest days I’ve ever had.”

  “Really? Wow.” Sophia flopped on his bed and propped her head with one hand. “Tell me more.”

  “Jonah is… unlike anyone I’ve ever been with. He’s real. And that’s a rare quality, at least in the circles I run in.”

  “God, that’s no lie. Boston has some snooty, stuck-up people. Speaking of snooty, thank the Lord you broke up with Ashley.”

  “Amen.” Marco opened a bottle of sparkling water and poured himself a glass. “Want some?”

  “No thanks.”

  “Ashley was in the relationship for show and prestige. We both were. Talk about soul-sucking.”

  “Jonah seems like a sweetheart.”

  “I think so too.” He ran his fingers through his hair, deemed it sufficiently tousled, and held out his arm. “Shall we? We’re meeting Jonah and Andy at the bar.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “I’M TELLING you, Jonny, I’m agog at what’s happening with you before my eyes! You’re like Snow White come back to life! Like Cinderella at the ball!” Wearing an eye-popping sequined tank in psychedelic colors and skintight turquoise shorts that matched the glitter he’d put in his hair, Anthony twirled around and started singing “Someday My Prince Will Come” under his breath.

  “Would you stop casting me in Disney movies?” Jonathan stood in front of the closet considering the clothing options for the evening. He took out a navy blue shirt.

  “Too dull, babe. Wear the purple one. And you can’t tell me you’re not living in a fairy tale right now. You and Marco Frigging Pellegrini are falling for each other. For reals!”

  How can it be real? He’s perfect. And I’m… not. Jonathan turned, purple shirt clutched in his hand, all his old doubts flying like gray flags. “Yeah.”

  Anthony frowned. “What? Don’t tell me you’re slipping into Jonathan mode. You’ve been doing so well with your Jonah Persona.”

  “I…. When I’m with him, it’s easy to be Jonah. Like you said, to be my best self. He makes me feel awesome to be alive.”

  “Ohmigod, babe, I’m crying over here! That is so beautiful!” Anthony clasped his hands over his heart. “This is the real thing.” Then he narrowed his eyes at Jonathan. “And don’t you go messing it up.”

  Jonathan slowly pulled on his shirt. “It can’t be real unless I tell him who I am.”

  “And you will. Of course you will! Just not yet, Jonny. Give yourself a few more days of the fairy tale.”

  “Okay.” Jonathan knew he shouldn’t be listening to his romance-addled cousin. He needed to tell Marco, and the sooner the better. But… the part of him that had been denied for so long was waking up. Anthony had nailed it, and Jonathan wanted to live out every hokey fairy-tale cliché. He was damn Snow White coming out of her spell; he was Cinderella finally escaping a life of drudgery and getting to go to the ball. And more than anything, Jonathan wanted one more night to be with the dashing prince before he turned into a pumpkin. Or a toad.

  “What about you?” Jonathan asked as he pulled on his shorts—the tight ones Tony had deemed most sexy.

  “What about me?”

  “Any signs so far of a prince for you?”

  Anthony snorted. “Not my thing, hon. You can have the happily ever afters. But believe me, there are tons of gorgeous men on this ship.” He made a show of studying his nails as he added coyly, “I may have already gotten cozy with one this afternoon.”

  “Oh? And?”

  “And what?” Anthony widened his eyes innocently.

  “And… I don’t know. Is he nice? Do I get to meet him?”

  “That right there’s the difference between you and me, cuz. You’re all ‘I wanna bring him home to meet the family’ and I’m all ‘Next!’ Tonight’s for whoever’s next.” Humming his Disney tune, Anthony moved to peer at himself in the mirror. “Hmm. Good enough.” He turned and surveyed Jonathan. “You look divine. Ready?”

  “Let’s go.”

  Chapter TEN

  MARCO STOOD on the deck, arms around Jonah, who leaned back against him as they gazed out on the rolling sea. They’d survived another dinner at separate tables and now were welded together so tightly no one could break their bond. Marco gave himself an internal eye roll. He’d never been such a mush-ball, but Jonah brought it out in him.

  Sophia and Andy stood a few feet away leaning against the railing, chattering and laughing, no doubt about their pickup plans for tonight. The four of them had decided to go snorkeling together when they got to Grand Cayman tomorrow. Marco looked forward to showing Jonah the magical world that existed under the ocean’s surface. You would never guess. A lot like people, he supposed—beauty existing under the surface of things. My God, but he was full of it tonight. He chuckled.

  Jonah stirred in his arms and leaned his head back. “Something funny?”

  “Just laughing at myself. You bring out the poet in me.”

  “Oh. That’s good.”

  Marco dropped a kiss on Jonah’s hair. “I can’t wait for you to see the reef and the tropical fish. It’s gorgeous. Bellissimo.” Like you.

  Andy intruded, holding Sophia’s hand. “Come on, chickadees! Time for the show and dancing. Sophia and I are on the prowl.” He tilted his head at Sophia. “But for this one’s sake, not as many mai tais.”

  “You got that right, cowboy.”

  Andy gave her a scowl. “Do I look like a
cowboy? I ask you.”

  Marco eyed Andy, dazzling in his sparkly top and glitter. “Not many cowboys out there like you, pardner. But about the show…. I’d like to take a pass tonight.” He bent his head toward Jonah’s. “How about you?” Aha, there was the blush he liked to see.

  “Yeah, I can do without seeing the show.”

  Andy’s eyes twinkled. “All right, you two. Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!”

  Sending them twin knowing glances, Sophia and Andy took off.

  Marco tightened his arms around Jonah’s waist. “Now. Where were we?”

  A raucous group of men stumbled out to the deck, hooting and carrying on. Several proceeded to light up. The smell of cigarettes and something stronger drifted over.

  Jonah pulled on Marco’s arms to free himself and turned. “How about we go somewhere more private?”

  “Yes, good idea. There’s a small piano bar on the third level that Sophia told me about. Why don’t we try there?”

  Jonah’s face fell for a moment. “Um, sure.”

  Marco took his hand, serene, and glanced over at him. Jonah wore a deep purple shirt that brought out his blue eyes. He had the cutest legs under those awesomely tight shorts. And all his other parts were cute too. Mmm. Being with him made Marco goofy with desire, but he was happy just strolling along the ship’s hallway with Jonah safely in tow.

  He knew Jonah was hoping to be invited to Marco’s stateroom. But for one of the few times in his life, Marco was content to wait rather than grab for the golden ring at the first opportunity. He and Jonah were going to end up in bed together. That was a given. And that knowledge made the anticipation so sweet. Besides, Marco found Jonah fascinating. It floored him to notice that more than sex, what he wanted was to talk to Jonah some more—find out what he’d been thinking in the cab about changing his life.

  Still, it wasn’t like Marco hadn’t been considering the future. Marco was a planner. And in his head, he’d already made plans for him and Jonah. He saw them going to concerts. He saw himself reading in Jonah’s cozy cottage, a fire going, while Jonah played the piano. He wondered if he could persuade him to live in Boston too? Cape Cod was nice, but not year-round. Maybe they could go back and forth. Another part of him weighed in, scolding about rushing into things. He’d only known Jonah for two days, for God’s sake, and he’s daydreaming about them living together? Slow down!