by Sam Mariano
"First it was too cold. It's not so easy to determine how hot it's getting over here."
I glance at the counter and see the bag of groceries has been unpacked. She carved the chicken and set out two plates. There’s a glass of juice and a bowl beside each plate.
I go over to the fire and help her with the pot. It's hot and I don't want her to burn her hands or spill it everywhere.
I pour it into the bowls anyway, but the bottom of the pot is layered with scorched soup.
"How did you burn the soup?" I ask, shaking my head. She’s shifting anxiously and I don’t want to make her feel worse, but damned if I can figure how this even happened.
"Your wood made the fire too hot," she accuses, even though that's illogical.
I wink at her. "Yeah, it did."
She narrows her eyes but smiles reluctantly. "Whatever. If it's not good, at least there’s chicken."
"I'll eat every last bite," I assure her.
"Bet you wish you had that unimpressive deli sandwich now, don't you?" she jokes.
"I can get food later; I'm more concerned about feeding you. Especially if this is how your soup turns out," I add.
"There are, like, 40 granola bars in here; I think I'll survive." She stands on one side of the counter and I stand on the other since my table isn't equipped for two diners. "This chicken smells amazing," she tells me.
I take a drink of the room-temperature juice. "I didn't know what kind of cereal you liked. I figured Corn Pops are good without milk, so...."
"A very good choice, thank you. I'm a Cinnamon Toast Crunch kind of gal, but if there's no milk, Froot Loops. What's your favorite kind of cereal?"
I smile, eyes on my plate as I spear a piece of chicken. "That's what you wanna ask me? My favorite cereal?"
"I want to ask you everything, but I have to start somewhere," she reasons.
"Raisin Bran."
"Well, I can see straight into your soul now," she replies. After a second, she asks more seriously, "How long until you have to leave?"
I check my phone and make a face. "Couple hours. Maybe three."
Annabelle sighs, but immediately brightens. "Well, we'll have to make the best of them then."
I nod in agreement. I don't want to think about tonight. Going back. No part of me wants to go, and I guess it must be because for the first time, there's a much better alternative waiting for me.
Annabelle pushes a piece of chicken into her mouth and watches me. After she swallows, she says, "You know, I don't even know your last name."
"Hunt," I supply.
"Liam Hunt?" Nodding approvingly, she says, "I like that."
Even though I'm still tired, I wish I hadn't slept so long. It's bound to be a long night, and I won't come back here afterwards. I decide it's best to warn her.
"I'll go back to my apartment in the city tonight after work. I'll sleep and then I'll have to go back to work, so I won't be back until tomorrow night. I should be able to spend the night with you here, but after I leave that time, I won't come back until the job is done. So if you need anything else, don't be shy, tell me and I'll bring it tomorrow."
Her face has darkened with disappointment but she nods, accepting it. Then, daring a glance up at me, she says, "Will you tell me what the job is now?"
I ignore the request, trying the soup. It isn't great, but still edible. "Not bad," I tell her.
Not letting me get away with it this time, she continues, "I take it that's a no? Why?"
I go over it one more time in my mind. Some of it I think she'd be okay with, but other parts... not so much. After it's done, it's done. But right now....
I can't risk her asking me not to do it. Because I'm going to. I'm going to finish the job, get the rest of my money, and then we can leave.
"You like warm weather?"
She gives me a dry look as she scoops up a spoonful of soup. "Slick subject change."
"Not a subject change. Just thinking about after the job is over."
That softens her a little, successfully changing the subject. "I was wondering about that. I wasn't sure what happens after. Do you have a life to go back to?"
"I don't, not exactly, but I want to build one. I told you about the sunset house. That's where I'm going. You can come with me, if you want to."
She can't help smiling. "I would like that. Is there a stove?"
That one makes me chuckle. "Yes, there's a stove. A whole kitchen, even."
"Fancy," she says, rubbing her hands together with relish.
I picture her there, bare toes in the sand with the waves lapping at the shore behind her, her pale skin darker from exposure to the sun.
Actually, I should probably pick up a sunscreen for her. Bet she burns easily.
"When?" she asks, bringing me out of my daydream.
"We'll leave in a few days. I booked you a plane ticket, figuring you might wanna come. Next week we'll be in another country, on a beach, with a new life."
Something she sorely needed, but I don't add that.
She seems really pleased. And she's forgotten to keep bugging me about the job. Win-win.
Annabelle
I nuzzle my face against Liam's chest as he lazily brushes his thumb across my nipple. I'm already thumping with arousal, and we've barely recovered from the round we just finished.
"If you keep doing that, I'm never letting you leave," I tell him, rubbing his leg with my foot.
"Fine, I'll stop," he says.
Before I can object, his hand creeps down my belly and between my legs. My head falls back as he thrusts a finger between my legs and I sigh, somehow so satisfied even as his hand renews the yearning for more.
"Should I stop... now?" he asks as his finger circles my clit.
"Nope."
So much steady pleasure, it doesn't seem possible. I can't believe I've missed out on this for so long. I want to stay in bed with him forever, making up for lost time.
As much as I love his touch, I want him inside me. I wish he could live there.
He moves, hovering over me, and I reach down to caress him. He's hard, and I want him, so I guide him between my legs again. Needing no further instruction, he pushes into me and I feel complete. I spread my knees wider as he moves deeper, closing my eyes and moaning with pleasure.
Slow can be nice, too, apparently. But as we approach the peak of pleasure, our movements are more hurried, harder, faster. I come first, and he follows. He crushes me with his weight again, but I welcome it, wrapping my arms around him.
He's still inside me, my arms still wrapped around him, when I say, "I thought of something you should bring tomorrow night."
"What's that?" he murmurs, eyes still closed.
"Condoms."
He nods, easing out of me and rolls into his side. "I will absolutely get those."
"A big box," I specify.
"The biggest."
I grin, turning and burrowing against him. "It's really cold in here. I need you to stay and keep me warm. So I don't freeze to death. Strictly a matter of life and death."
Liam smirks, and I want to kiss his face again. "I still wish I could and I'm still not going to. You can come up with as many reasons as you want to, the result won't change."
I give him a lazy shrug. "Can't blame a girl for trying."
I wish something would work. Anything. It's scary to think about him leaving again tomorrow, knowing I'll have to go through the same thing. Only tomorrow, I'll know I won’t even see him again until after... whatever. And it's undoubtedly dangerous.
"Is Blondie doing whatever it is you're doing, too?"
"Lance? Yeah."
I'm surprised he even answered me. Maybe I can get more information if I come at it the back way. "Are there other people involved, or just you two?"
"More."
"It sounds like a big operation," I guess.
He shrugs. I trace circles on his chest with my finger.
"Why would Raj want me dead?"
Liam sighs heavily. "I don't want to talk about this."
"You're going to kill Pietro, aren't you?"
"Yes."
Finally, something!
"Paul?"
"Oh yes."
I smile, though I'm sure that's probably not the appropriate reaction.
"Others?"
"I've told you enough," he states.
I guess he has, but I ask quietly, "My mom?"
He brushes my hand away and sits up, moving to get out of bed.
I follow, putting a hand in his shoulder. "Okay, I'll stop asking. Stay here and cuddle me."
"I should bring in some more wood," he tells me.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders from behind, and leave a trail of light kisses along his back. "I think there's enough wood."
"In case I'm delayed and you get stuck here for a while, I need to bring in more."
I sit back on my heels. "Is there a good chance that might happen?"
"No, but I want you to be prepared in case."
"So show me where the wood is and I'll bring it in myself if it does," I reason.
Seeming to accept that alternative, he scoots back on the bed. I follow him back in the bed and curl up beside him, pulling the covers over us and basking in his warmth.
"What will you do at the beach house?" I ask him.
"You," he answers, catching my hand and pressing a kiss to my palm.
"Mm, I like the sound of that," I tell him with a grin. "What will I do?"
"Me."
I laugh as he kisses his way up my arm. "I'm serious."
"We'll figure it out once we get settled in. We won't need to work right away. I figure we'll enjoy it for a while, then as long as we both like it, we'll start putting a life together." He stops kissing me, but keeps his hand entwined with mine. "When we leave, we'll be on our own. Just the two of us and whatever we make ourselves."
"Sounds amazing."
"If something changes and you don't like it, don't be afraid to tell me. I'll help you set something up for yourself."
"Trying to get rid of me already?" I tease.
He remains serious. "You've had to depend on others your whole life. You don't anymore. If something changes for you, I don't want you to feel trapped again. I'm not another Paul or Pietro. You're not stuck and you never will be."
Frowning slightly, I say, "I wish you weren't so convinced you're going to scare me off."
"Not convinced. Just making sure you’re aware of your options."
"Well, thank you. I think."
He holds me for a while. It's quiet and peaceful. His hand is still in mine, the other lightly moving up and down the area around my shoulder. I want to know what he's thinking, but I doubt he would tell me if I asked.
Turns out, I don't have to.
"Are you close to your brother and sister?"
It's maybe the last question I expected from him.
"Uh... no, not really. I mean, I'm sure they're fine, but obviously I have strained relationships with both of their parents, and that's putting it lightly. We never really got a chance to develop any kind of relationship." I pause a couple seconds. "Do you have siblings?"
"Ryder."
I tilt my head to look up at him, surprised. "Oh, he's your brother?"
He nods, but still looks pensive.
"Are you close to your parents? Do they live around here?"
He shakes his head no.
I'm not sure if it's a sore subject, or he's merely lost in thought. Either way, doesn't seem like I'm going to get much from him.
I hug him extra long before I let him out the door. It's not as hard as it was to let him leave the first time, but it's still hard. It's still scary. I'm still worried about what he's going to be doing and how much danger he'll be putting himself in.
His lips linger on mine for a minute before he pulls away. I want to stall some more, but I understand he stayed as long as he could, and now he has to hustle back.
I don't cry when he leaves this time, but I want to. This cottage is lonely without him, and I can only sweep the dingy floor and wipe down the short, weathered counter so many times. I imagine I'm preparing the house for him to come home to, but knowing this isn't where we'll stay takes away any accomplishment in such busywork.
Daydreams about the future are a little scary, too, but in a good way. What will it be like, just the two of us? No Paul, no Raj, nothing to keep us apart. I’ve lived with a man before, but I don’t know if he’s ever lived with someone. There’s still so much I don’t know about him, so much I want to learn.
I don’t want to wait. I don’t want there to be a chance for anything else to go wrong.
I call him.
I know it’s fruitless, but I also know he’s still walking through the woods, so I can.
As soon as he answers, without even a greeting, I ask, “Have you ever lived with a woman before?”
“What?”
“A woman. I mean, that you’re in a relationship with.”
It sounds like he’s pushing through some brush. “Not exactly. Why? You leave the seat up?”
I crack a smile. “No, but I’m really bad at checking mail. Like, really bad. I’ll bring it inside, but actually opening it feels like too much work, so I put it somewhere and forget about it. Prepare for some late fees on our bills.”
“I don’t think it’ll be an issue,” he says, apparently unconcerned.
“I also keep food, like… days past the expiration date. Two days. Three if I’m living on the edge.”
“Oh, well, in that case, never mind.”
“I kick in my sleep sometimes.”
“Are you trying to talk me out of this?” he asks.
I’m quiet for a minute, then I admit, “I’m just kind of afraid you won’t like me if I’m around all the time.”
Now it’s his turn to be quiet. My heart races after the vulnerability I’ve just exposed. Finally he just says, “Annabelle,” in this trailing off, going nowhere kind of way. I don’t know exactly what to make of it, but I guess it’s supposed to be reassuring.
“We’re skipping dating entirely and moving straight to living together. You aren’t going to have a chance to see if you even really like me that much,” I add, like I can’t stop. All of a sudden my insecurities are running out of me like a faucet.
“I do like you,” he states. “I wouldn’t be doing any of this if I didn’t.”
“But what if you stop?”
“Then you can kick me in bed and pretend you were sleeping.”
I crack a smile. “I’m serious.”
“Please stop worrying about this,” he says. “We have enough legitimate shit to worry about right now, you worrying that I’m not going to like you enough to live with you doesn’t make the cut. I think about you all the time. I want you with me all the time. Now you will be.”
That last part is reassuring. He’s not the most emotionally open guy in the universe, so I’m pleased to know he does like me.
“Oh, good,” I say, breathing a little easier. “That makes me happy. I feel the same way.”
“Good. We’re going to have plenty of time after this is all over to get to know each other better. If you don’t like me, you can always leave. Right now I’m about to get in the car and I don’t want you to waste your charge, so I’m gonna go. But I’ll be back soon, and then we can talk about this more if you need to.”
I smile, further pleased. “Okay, good. Thank you.”
He chuckles and ends the call before I can add, “Be safe.”
Liam
I’ve got the truck in my sights. Outside of it, shadowy men keep shifting around. One is puffing on a cigarette and looking around, the other just stands under the streetlight with his arms crossed, posture tense.
I check my phone, but it’s quiet.
Something doesn’t feel right.
These guys are just hanging around the truck—where’s the buyer?
My phone finally b
uzzes and I read the message on the display.
“Ready?”
I want to abort the mission. Something seems off and this wasn’t in my job description anyway. I did this bonus work the first time because seeing how they treated Annabelle pissed me off and I wanted Pietro to pay any and every way he could, but I’m not into it tonight. I don’t want to put myself at risk causing more damage, I just want to fulfill my original contract and go back to Annabelle.
