“Hi!” she greeted happily. “I already got started, but there’s plenty more to do. Come on in.”
She gestured at him with a wooden spoon that she had gripped in her hand and he noticed the back was coated with shimmering red. He stepped into the house and closed the door behind him before following her into the kitchen. His eyes locked on the way that her body moved beneath the pink and white dress she wore and he felt his stomach tremble with a desire that he had never felt and didn’t understand.
When they reached the kitchen, Gannon saw that nearly every available surface was covered with berries, parts of berries, or various bowls and plates containing berries. He laughed and Willow shrugged, returning to the stove and dipping her spoon down into a pot that was bubbling at the front.
“I told you that there were a lot of berries,” she said.
“What can I do?” he asked.
Willow glanced around as if trying to figure out which of the projects she had started would be best for him to work on. She pointed to the table and a basket still overflowing with strawberries.
“Can you cut those up for me?” she asked. “Just core them and cut them in half. Those are the ones that we’re going to make into preserves.”
Gannon sat at the table and picked up a paring knife. He took one of the berries and scooped out the core before halving it and dropping it into a glass bowl. He had processed through most of the berries when he glanced up at her.
“What are you making over there?” he asked.
“I made a cheesecake earlier,” she said. “Now I’m just making a strawberry sauce to go over it.”
“Cheesecake?” Gannon asked.
Willow looked back over her shoulder at him quizzically.
“You’ve never had it?” she asked.
Gannon shook his head and finished a few more berries.
“No,” he said.
“It’s delicious,” she assured him. “You’ll like it. It has to cool for a little bit longer, but that gives us time to work on the preserves.”
Gannon finished up the last of the berries and stood, picking up the bowl and carrying it over to Willow.
“These are done,” he said. “Are they right?”
Willow looked at the bowl, taking up a few of the halves to examine them.
“They’re perfect,” she said. “Go ahead and pour them into that pot.”
Gannon tipped the bowl of berries into a large pot on the stove and Willow reached in front of him to turn on the burner. Her hand touched his belly and he felt the muscles twitch again. She didn’t seem to notice as she reached over to pick up a small bowl full of liquid and poured it into the pot with the berries.
“What was that?” Gannon asked.
“Lemon juice,” Willow said. “It’s my secret ingredient.” She stirred the berries for a few seconds and then shrugged. “Actually, it’s not really a secret. It’s in most recipes. But it makes the preserves taste much better.”
Gannon followed each of her instructions as she guided him through making the preserves, watching as the berries began to release their juices and create a thick syrup that shimmered in the pot and filled the room with a sweet scent. There was something peaceful and almost meditative about watching as the preserves formed beneath her wooden spoon. The bold red berries that they had grown together were gradually sinking down, transforming into something new and amazing. As they waited, he listened to Willow talk, absorbing more of the stories of when she was young. He wanted to hear every word, to bring it inside of him and let them piece together to create the image of her that would help him to know and understand her better. Every few moments as she spoke she paused, looking at him expectantly as if she wanted him to respond in a certain way, or to offer some form of parallel experience that would connect their lives before the moment that they met.
He had nothing to offer her. He had no family. No real childhood. No memories that he would want to share with her. Until recently he didn’t even have a name. There was nothing that he could tell her that would help her to understand him because he didn’t even understand himself. There were still times when he felt like he was a visitor in the shell of his own body. He was trying to discover who and what he was outside of the soldier that Ryan had crafted, and there was still so much that he needed to find before he was going to be able to give her even a glimpse of himself.
“I’m really excited about having cheesecake,” she said as she settled into the chair across the table from Gannon and brushed her hair back away from her forehead. “It’s what my grandmother always made for my birthday when I was younger.”
“You were really close to your grandmother, weren’t you?” Gannon asked.
Willow nodded. She used her fingernail to spin the leaves of a berry around on the table like she was trying not to look at him, trying anything to distract herself.
“I was,” she said. “My parents were wonderful, but they traveled a lot for work. They didn’t want me to have a nomadic life so I spent most of my time with Violet.”
“It sounds like you and Aubrey have a lot in common,” Gannon said.
Willow looked up at him sharply and he felt a strange sense of regret at making the comment.
“I guess we do in some ways,” she said. “That hasn’t ever really mattered, though. We’ve never been close.”
Gannon nodded. He could sense that there was something more to that than she was saying, but it wasn’t the time to ask.
“You said that she used to make cheesecake for your birthday,” he said, trying to guide them along another path of conversation.
“Yes,” Willow said. “I never really liked regular cake, so Violet made sure that I had cheesecake. She would tint some of it different colors and make designs in it so that it would look like the frosting on a birthday cake. I still miss that on my birthday.”
Gannon wished that he understood what she was telling him. He could tell that it had a strong emotional meaning, but he had never heard of a birthday or a birthday cake and didn’t understand what it would have meant to her.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Willow sighed and stood.
“It’s alright,” she said. “I don’t think that I’m ever going to not miss her, but it’s not as painful as it used to be.” She crossed to the refrigerator and opened the door. “What do you have on your birthday?”
Gannon felt his heart thud in his chest.
“I don’t,” he said.
She looked over the door at him strangely.
“What do you mean you don’t?” she asked. “You don’t celebrate your birthday?”
“No,” he said. “I never have.”
“Well, we’re going to have to change that. When is it?”
Gannon looked down at the table in front of him. He was trying to come up with something to say when he heard Willow gasp and she suddenly jumped up from the table. He looked up and saw smoke coming up from the pan on the stove. She grabbed the handle and swept the pan off of the burner, bringing it over to the sink to fill it with water. As the water hissed into the pot and sent a billow of steam up into the air, Willow sagged against the counter and put her head down on her arm. Gannon stood and rushed to her side.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I guess I forgot to turn the burner off when I poured the strawberry sauce out. The residue at the bottom started burning. Everything’s alright.”
Gannon let out a sigh of relief, both that the smoke was nothing more serious and that she had seemingly forgotten her question about his birthday.
“Well,” he said, “at least most of the sauce made it.”
Willow straightened and laughed.
“Exactly. And I think that that calls for a celebration. How about a slice of that cheesecake?”
Gannon nodded and stepped out of the way so that Willow could go to the refrigerator and open the door. She took out a platter holding what looked like a large silver circle and brought it to the table.
She settled it in front of him and he noticed something smooth and creamy-looking inside of the silver ring. Willow grasped the ring and lifted it, revealing the cake itself. A rich, sweet scent touched his nose and Gannon breathed it in, intrigued by the uniqueness of it. All of the new foods that Willow had introduced to him were like a gradual exploration of her and the world that she inhabited. Though simple, the idea of new foods was exciting to him at the same time that it was intimidating. Each of the new foods that he tried was another step out of the restriction that had always defined him, but until he met Willow he hadn’t felt comfortable enough to venture far. When he was in the facility he was only exposed to an extremely limited, basic diet. Even when he came to live with Nana and she began to cook far more elaborate meals for them, he avoided all but the simplest and most recognizable of foods. The trust that he felt for Willow enabled him to explore further, and though it might not have seemed impactful to anyone else, it was making a tremendous difference to him.
Willow took a plate out of a cabinet and a knife and two forks from the drawer beneath and carried them over to the table. She cut a thick slice from the cake and place it on the plate before drizzling it with the thick red syrup that they had made over it. Finishing it with a few of the remaining whole berries, she carried the plate over to the table, but instead of sitting down across from him, she gestured for him to follow her.
“Why don’t we bring this into the living room?” she said. “It’s a bit cluttered in here.”
Gannon stood and followed her into the living room where they settled onto the couch. Willow placed the plate on the coffee table and gathered a bite onto one of the forks, moaning slightly as she put it in her mouth. She swallowed and looked at him expectantly.
“Aren’t you going to try some?” she asked.
“I’m not sure.”
He hesitated and she swept more onto the fork, then held it up to him.
“Come on,” she said. “Just a little bite. It’s not going to hurt you.”
She smiled and Gannon knew that he couldn’t resist her. He leaned forward and opened his mouth just enough for her to place the fork inside. He closed his lips over the fork and she slid it out, leaving the cheesecake and the strawberry sauce on his tongue. The flavor of it flowed over him and he felt himself give the same moan that she did, understanding the reaction now that he tasted the luscious dessert. He realized that his eyes had closed as he ate the bite and when he opened them Willow was starting at him, her face closer to his now and she leaned forward as he had.
Their eyes burned into each other and he felt heat and energy building between them, flickering in the air and seeming to pull all of the focus in to just the two of them, bringing clarity and sharpness that made every breath, every blink, every feature amplified and accentuated. Gannon felt a tug within his chest, compelling him forward, telling him to follow the compulsions within him though he didn’t fully understand them. Willow leaned slightly closer and Gannon’s body responded in kind, drawing them nearer to each other gradually. Their noses brushed against each other and they both paused there, enjoying the feeling of each other’s skin.
“Some people call that an Eskimo kiss,” Willow whispered.
Gannon drew in a breath.
“Is that really how the Eskimos kiss?” he whispered back.
“I don’t know,” Willow said.
Their mouths neared each other and Gannon felt their lips touch. It was less a kiss than a greeting, a cautious opening gesture of both reaching out to one another across the distance that was still there no matter how close they had become. Gannon licked his lips. He lifted his eyes to see hers and watched as they closed. As her eyelids closed completely, he leaned forward and pressed his lips more fully to hers. Willow relaxed under the pressure of his kiss, her lips parting. Gannon’s tongue touched just the inside of them, exploring. She responded by deepening the kiss, gliding her body across the sofa so that he could feel her thigh pressing against his and their chests brushing against each other.
She was like the first smell of the cheesecake, rich and smooth, sultry in its sweetness. Each taste of it made him crave more and he delved into it, allowing the compulsions within him to fuel him forward. He followed what his mind and body told him, indulging the rhythm of his heart as he discovered more and more of what it told him.
Willow’s hand came up to touch the side of his face and he reciprocated by wrapping his hands around her waist and drawing her closer. Their kiss became more insistent, deeper as they became more settled in each other’s grasp. A powerful urge washed over Gannon and he swept Willow into his lap, positioning her so that she straddled his hips as he leaned back against the couch. Her body felt warm and compliant in his arms, and their bodies seemed to seek each other to mold into a new, more complete existence.
Gannon tightened his hands around her waist and felt Willow rock her hips against him. The pressure created an intense sensation that seemed to explode within him, a dizzying feeling that spoke to something primal, something that pushed him to the edge of his reality and threatened the control that he had finally begun to feel. The feeling was vulnerable, frightening him in both its intensity and the meaning that it could hold. Her hand came to the center of his chest and pressed against his heart, beginning to slip between the sides of his shirt to touch his skin. He felt a panic spike within him and pushed her back away from him. Their mouths parted and he saw her eyes snap open to look at him questioningly.
“What’s wrong?” she asked breathlessly.
Gannon searched her face, struggling to catch his breath, trying to talk himself into a sense of calm so that he could give himself back over to the feeling, find the enjoyment in it again and let himself find the pleasure and the indulgence that he had begun to lose himself in. It didn’t come. Instead, looking at her only made him feel more vulnerable, more afraid. He lifted her off of his lap and placed her on the couch beside him, standing as soon as the weight of her released from his thighs.
“I have to go,” he said, starting for the door.
“Gannon, wait,” Willow said from behind him. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
He could hear her footsteps approaching him, but he only went faster. His feet began to run beneath him and he didn’t stop until he was in the yard with the horse. Gannon untied the animal and guided it out of the gate before swinging up into the saddle and clicking his heels against the animal’s sides to spurn it into a run back toward Nana’s house.
Chapter Eight
Willow felt like her legs couldn’t hold her up. She sagged against the doorframe, grasping it tightly to try to compensate for the weakness that was trying to drag her down. She gasped for breath as she forced herself to step back into the house and close the door behind her. Her steps were heavy and her mind spun as she made her way back into the living room and dropped down onto the sofa. Tears were already streaming down her cheeks though she didn’t remember when she started crying, and she felt the pain in her throat as emotion tore brutally from her.
What had just happened? The touch of Gannon’s hands and the taste of his lips had been the beginning of everything that she had been dreaming of since she had first met him, and she had given herself over to it, finally feeling as though she might be ready to allow someone else close to her. The fear that had been an ever-present element of her life since Gavin had walked away from her had finally started to chip away and she had been willing, for the first time in longer than she could remember, to extend trust to a man. She thought that he felt the same about her. She thought that she had seen something changing within him and the hesitation that he had shown dissipating, but then suddenly it was all over and he was running from her as though he never wanted to look at her again.
Willow couldn’t help but wonder if she had done something wrong. Perhaps it was Gavin that had driven Gannon away. She went too far talking about him and Gannon couldn’t handle it. She never should have told him so much or expressed so much of the e
motion that she still felt about the situation. The truth was that the emotion she felt wasn’t a longing for Gavin or even for the life that they had once shared. She didn’t feel sad for what they had lost or what they would never have. The pain that she felt was for herself and the time that she had lost trying to salvage the remnants of the man she had once known as she watched him disappear within himself. It had been terrifying to see him altered so severely and so quickly. Over the course of just a few months he had gone from the man who she had known for many years and who she thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with, to someone who she didn’t even recognize. She had felt a desperation to save him, to find whatever might be left of him and bring it back. Even long after the love that she had once felt for him had gone and she already knew within her that the life that they had planned on having wasn’t going to happen, she still had the drive to pull him back from the oblivion that she could see him racing toward. But it never happened. She was never able to rescue him. And now the lingering vestiges of him in her life had driven Gannon away.
It was difficult to imagine exactly what about her talking about Gavin had caused Gannon to leave her. Perhaps it was the fact that she was still thinking about him so much and Gannon thought that she wouldn’t have the room in her thoughts and heart to allow him in, even though she had long since cast Gavin out of her heart and wanted nothing more than to remove all thoughts of him from her mind and welcome Gannon in fully. Perhaps it was that she had lived with him, sharing her space, her time, and her life with him, and Gannon felt that that somehow diminished what she might be capable of feeling for him, as though every moment that she had spent with Gavin was at the sacrifice of the devotion that she could ever have for another, even though the time that she and Gavin had spent in this house was fraught with tension and torment, and there was not a single day that she could remember that was truly happy within these walls, leading her to hope desperately for joy to fill the space that she had had such hope for.
Gannon & Willow's Story (Uoria Mates V Book 2) Page 4
