I Speak...Love (A Different Road #3)

by Annalisa Nicole

  “Where did you see her last?” he asks, trying to be helpful.

  “On a park bench, she’s homeless,” I answer.

  “When?” he asks.

  “Months and months ago. Early one morning, I grabbed my camera and walked to a coffee shop. I got myself a cup of coffee and a bagel, but on the way back, I saw her sitting there enjoying the early morning sun. She sat there so beautiful. At that moment, she didn’t have a care in the world. She knew I took the photo. Before I left, I gave her my coffee and breakfast. I looked for her time and time again in hopes of giving her something warm in her belly, but I never saw her again.”

  “You’re staying here tonight, right?” he asks. I nod my head yes as his hands gently rub up and down the backs of my arms. “Good.”

  The next morning, Stephen is up early moving around in bed. I lift my head, scrape a mound of unruly hair off my face, tuck it behind my ear, then squint at him. The early morning sun is bright in my face, but when my eyes finally focus on him, I see he’s fully dressed, and he’s holding out a travel mug of coffee toward me.

  “Good morning, Sweetness. We have somewhere to be before yoga,” he says, handing me the travel mug.

  “We do?” I reply, groggy.

  I sit up on my elbows and quickly think back if I’ve forgotten something. No, I don’t think we had any plans before six AM yoga, I’m positive.

  “Get those sexy as hell yoga pants on that sweet ass. We need to get a move on,” he says, getting off the bed.

  I flop back down on the mattress, holding the mug steady, then groan out loud. I set the travel mug on the end table, then snuggle back into his soft, warm bed.

  “Maddy!” Stephen sings.

  “I’m up! I’m up!” I say, sitting up.

  I swing my legs over the side of the bed, then rest my elbows on my knees, digging the heels of my hands into my eyeballs. I grab the coffee, then take an extra-long swig. God, he makes the best coffee. I get out of bed, strap on a sports bra, pull on my yoga pants and a loose fitting t-shirt, then brush my teeth and pile my hair in a messy bun on the top of my head. I grab my coffee, then reluctantly drag myself downstairs where I find a bright-eyed Nelly and bushy-tailed Stephen in the kitchen.

  “No need for breakfast this morning, Nelly. Maddy and I have plans,” Stephen says.

  “We do?” I question.

  “We do. Are you ready to go?” he asks.

  I nod my head while we walk to the garage door off the kitchen. I slip on my sneakers and like usual, I walk my way into them. Stephen opens the door, then we get into the Mustang, and he drives out of town.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “You’ll see,” he says, placing his hand on my thigh.

  A heavy metal song comes on the radio, and Stephen’s fingers start to strum the inside of my thigh. Goosebumps travel up my body with each flick of his fingers. Every time he plays my thigh, I get the exact same chills I did the first time he did it. He turns down my street, and I glance at him with a questioning stare. He returns my stare with a sexy half smile. He pulls into the driveway and shuts off the engine.

  “Did you leave something here last time you were over?” I question.

  “Nope, we’re getting coffee and a bagel,” he replies.

  The left side of my lips jerks up into a smile when I realize what he’s doing. I lean over the center console and plant a smiling kiss on his lips. I sit back in my seat, then I realize something else.

  “Even if we do find her, and she does give me permission, I don’t have the consent form with me,” I tell him.

  Stephen raises his hand, and pats the shirt pocket on his chest with a wink and a smile, then he exits the car. I lead him hand in hand down the street, through the park, then to the coffee shop. With an extra coffee and a bagel in my hand, we walk back to the park. My heart sinks when I see an empty park bench. It almost seems impossible. I spot a young woman in the distance on the other side of a grassy section watching us with wide doe-eyes, and a very old and worn backpack slung over her shoulder. She appears to be in her early twenties, and my heart sinks when I realize the similarity.

  “I’ll be right back,” I tell Stephen.

  I walk across the grass and stop in front of her. My first impression of doe-eyes is spot on. She has the most beautiful blue eyes and prettiest, longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen. With a smile, I place the hot coffee and bagel into her hands. Her young face, though kind, doesn’t smile back at me. I run my hand down her forearm and squeeze her hand before I walk back to Stephen. Stephen kneels down in front of me and ties my untied shoe, then he laces his fingers between mine. With a smile on his face, we head back to the Mustang. I know I have quite a few other photos that are in my humble opinion magazine worthy, but I just can’t imagine entering any other photo.

  For the next five mornings straight, Stephen and I walk the same route in hopes of finding the woman in the photograph with no luck. Each morning the doe-eyed girl makes an appearance and makes eye contact with me. I smile at her, then place coffee and a hot meal into her hands.

  The deadline for the contest is in two days. Tomorrow is the last day to find her.

  The next morning Stephen drives to my house, and we walk to the coffee shop. As much as I would love to find the woman and get her consent, I love spending this time with Stephen even more.

  Armed with an extra coffee and a bag with a hot breakfast sandwich, and a yogurt, Stephen and I slowly walk through the park hand in hand. I look down at my feet, and the shoelace to my left sneaker has come untied again. I watch with each step as the shoelace flicks back and forth. Stephen squeezes my hand and stops. I look up at him, wondering why he’s stopped. He nods his head, indicating I should look at something. I follow the path he’s looking to a park bench. Sitting side by side is doe-eyes and the woman from the photograph. My heart immediately lurches in my chest.

  “But, how did she know?” I ask out loud.

  As hard as it is to comprehend how doe-eyes even knew who I was looking for, I can’t take my eyes off of her face. For the first time in six days, doe-eyes has a smile on her face.

  Her smile is breathtaking. It’s not just an ordinary smile. It’s a proud smile, and it begs to be answered if she did indeed do something good. I understand that need to be validated. I walk toward doe-eyes, she stands, and her eyes sparkle looking for that acceptance and reassurance. I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tight.

  “Thank you,” I whisper in her ear.

  I explain to the older woman what I need and without question or hesitation, she signs the form. With relief, I hug each woman, then set the coffee and bag on the bench between them. Stephen laces his fingers through mine, we both say our goodbyes, then we start to walk away. After a few steps, I turn back around feeling like there should be something more I can do. The older woman and the bag of food have disappeared and are nowhere to be seen. Doe-eyes is still sitting on the bench with the cup of coffee raised to her smiling lips.

  “I’ll be right back,” I tell Stephen.

  I walk back to doe-eyes and take a seat next to her.

  “I’m Maddy,” I tell her. “I have a photo shoot here in the park this afternoon at six. I’m in need of an assistant. Do you think that’s something you’d be interested in?” I ask. Doe-eyes excitedly nods her head yes. “Great! I’ll see you at five-thirty, and I’ll walk you through set up and how you can help me during the shoot.”

  I stand up smiling at her, then start to walk toward Stephen.

  “Maddy,” her soft voice calls. I turn back around and look at her, she stands, then walks to me. “I’m Doreen,” she says, extending her hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Doreen,” I tell her, shaking her hand.

  I will never be able to change my past. I don’t fully understand the reasons of why my life was how it was, but maybe . . . just maybe, I can help change the future of this young woman.

  Maddy is practically dragging me back to her house, she�
��s so excited she got her signature. She puts the key in the door, then quickly runs into the house and disappears. I don’t follow Maddy inside. Instead, I remember it wasn’t that long ago that she used to pause before she could open this door. I asked her why she did that, and she told me the three questions she had to ask herself before she entered. She no longer asks herself those three questions about anything anymore. The ominous storm that used to swirl and darken in her eyes has been replaced with sparkle and light.

  You’re good for her, the voice in my head says.

  Yeah, I am good for her, and she’s good for me, in fact, we’re perfect for each other.

  “What are you doing?” Maddy asks, rushing back to the front door. She grabs my hand and pulls me inside the house. “Do you want to see it?” she asks excitedly, clutching a photograph to her chest. “No, you don’t want to see, right?” she answers her own question. She lets go of my hand, then she walks backward into the kitchen. I close the front door, then I stalk toward her and feel like a tiger on the prowl. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks. I tip my chin down and stare at my prey. “Stephen?” she says, then giggles.

  “Put the photo down, Maddy,” I tell her.

  “Why?” she asks, clutching the photo tighter.

  “Set the photo on the counter, Maddy,” I instruct her again.

  Her mouth opens, and she inhales a slight gasp as I take another step toward to her.

  “Stephen,” she whispers.

  “Madelyn,” I reply, cocking an eyebrow at her.

  She sets the photo on the counter, then I close the distance and crash my lips down on hers. I push her against the kitchen counter top, then slip the strap of her tank top down her shoulder. I kiss along the ridge of her shoulder as I pull her tank top down farther.

  “Stephen,” she whispers breathily.

  “One . . .” I say, then trace my tongue over a freckle. Two . . .” I say, then connect to the next freckle. “Three . . . Four . . . Five . . . Six,” I continue to count.

  “What are you counting?” she whispers, tilting her head, exposing her neck.

  “I’m playing connect the sexy freckles,” I reply.

  Her chin tilts downward as she looks into my eyes.

  “You think my freckles are sexy?” she asks.

  “Mmmm . . . Every . . . single . . . last . . . one,” I reply, kissing a different freckle.

  “Even the ones on my face,” she asks shocked.

  “Especially the ones on your face,” I answer, then kiss the tip of her nose.

  She smiles so brightly, her green eyes practically turn translucent. In their transparent state, I see her deep love shining back toward me. Her lips softly touch mine, and I feel her love radiating straight through me. I place my hands on her ribcage, then lift her off the ground, pressing her body to mine. She wraps her legs around me, then I run my hand in her hair behind her head. I press her lips to mine while I walk her down the hallway to her bedroom. Just inside the door, I press her back up against the wall, then slightly pull away from her and push her yoga pants down over her ass. She sets her feet on the floor, then I bend down in front of her and peel them down her legs. I grab the back of her sneakers and pull them off her feet, then remove her yoga pants and panties. On my knees, I lift one of her legs over my shoulder and take her sweet little nub between my lips. Her hands slap down on the wall at her sides as she sighs. As I continue to lick and suck, I slide my right hand up her leg and grip her thigh just under her ass cheek. With the other hand, I place my palm on her knee on my shoulder, then run it up the side of her thigh. I palm her firm ass with my hand, then slide it over to the crack of her ass. I firmly run the side of my forefinger and thumb along her slick entrances, then I insert my thumb inside her. I apply firm pressure behind my thumb with my finger, and her leg starts to quiver as she screams my name.

  “Don’t stop!” she begs.

  With each slide of my hand, I apply more pressure with the tip of my forefinger. The more I play, the louder she gets. Her hands come to the top of my shoulder for support as I continue to lick and suck her. I watch as her eyes roll in the back of her head, then her shoulders shake against the wall as she comes. She loudly inhales a gasp of pleasure, then her hands come to her face as she comes down from her high. Before she can open her eyes, I remove my thumb, grab her around her hips and move her to the bed. I bend her over the mattress, then slide my workout shorts down to my ankles. I bend my knees, then run the tip of my cock over her sensitive nub, then sink inside her. I grab her hipbones and pull her firmly to me with each inward thrust. She grabs a fist full of comforter in her hands, then she pushes all of her weight into me as I slam into her. I rub my palm over her ass cheek, then give it a firm slap. The crack echoes in the room, sending a jolt straight to my dick.

  “Again,” she whispers, then turns her head to the side so she can watch me.

  I rub the last place my palm touched, then I give her a squeeze and another firm smack. Her mouth opens in the shape of an O and before my hand can even leave her ass, she starts to come again. Her back arches off the bed, and she plants her forehead on the comforter. I wrap my arm around her waist, pull her tight, then let go with a low groan.

  I lean forward and kiss the center of her back, then pull out. I see the slightest shade of pink from my handprint on her ass cheek, I bend down and kiss each fingerprint mark. Maddy again turns her head and looks at me with a wicked smile. She turns around, runs her hand down the stubble on my jaw, then kisses me. She walks to the wall and picks up her clothes from the floor, and she walks into the bathroom with a sway in her hips and closes the door behind her.

  I turn around, pull up my shorts, then sit on her bed. I look at the closed bathroom door and smile. Maddy’s come so far. We both have. She’s more like the butterfly now than the chameleon. Everything won’t always go as planned and there are sure to be bumps in the road, but my butterfly will always fly, especially in the rain. She’ll never live in fear of drowning ever again.

  I get up, then head outside to my car. I remove a small box from the glove box, then go back in the house. I spot the photograph Maddy had clutched to her chest sitting face down on the counter. I pick it up, flip it over, and it takes my breath away. The woman sitting on the bench, though clearly going through one of the hardest times in her life is stunningly beautiful. I now see why it was so important for Maddy to enter this photo.

  “What do you think?” Maddy asks, wrapping her arms around me, pressing her cheek against my upper arm.

  “It’s hauntingly beautiful. You’re an amazing photographer,” I tell her, placing it back on the counter.

  “She’s an amazing person,” Maddy says.

  I pick up the box from the counter, turn around, and hand it to Maddy.

  “I think you’re a pretty amazing person,” I tell her, placing it in her hand.

  “What’s this?” she asks, looking at it shocked.

  “It’s you,” I tell her.

  She lifts the lid from the box and gasps.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispers, removing the platinum butterfly necklace from the box. I knew the second I saw it that it was Maddy. The edge of the butterfly wings is lined with crystal clear diamonds, but inside that are four large green diamonds. Depending on how the light hits them just like Maddy’s eyes, they change color.

  “I’d love to stand here and promise you that the rest of your life will be nothing but sunshine and roses, but I’ll never lie to you. What I can promise you is that I’ll always be here for you, and no matter what happens, I’ll make damn sure that you always fly, even when it rains.”

  A small tear falls from the outer crease of her eye and runs down her cheek. She raises her hand and gently wipes it away, then rolls up on her tiptoes, and kisses me. She rolls back down, then holds out the necklace for me. She turns around and lifts up her hair. I unclasp the ends, put it on her, then softly kiss the back of her neck. She turns around again to face me and runs
her hand over the top of the butterfly, then smiles at me.

  “Are you ready for yoga?” I ask.

  “Almost, I just need to put this in an envelope and address it,” she replies, turning back around to the photo. She picks up the photo, then sighs, “Do you think this is . . .” she starts.

  “Don’t even doubt it for one second. It’s that good,” I tell her.

  She puts it in the envelope along with the signed consent form and the entry, then seals it, and places a stamp on it.

  “I’m ready,” she says, lacing her hand in mind.

  Maddy and I slip into yoga class five minutes late, and Kate gives us the eye.

  After yoga, we go back to the house for a quick shower. As I dress in a three-piece suit, Maddy sits in the chair in the corner looking at me like I’m her prey now. As I snap the cuffs out from my suit coat, she bites her bottom lip.

  “You keep looking at me like that and I’m not going to make it to work,” I tell her.

  “That’s kind of the point,” she answers with a wicked smile.

  I walk into my photo studio and immediately see the stunningly beautiful photo of Joss wearing a cream colored, wispy floor length dress with her arms tenderly wrapped around her beautiful baby bump. The peaceful look on her face and the love in her eyes as she looks down adoringly at her belly exactly matches how I saw Courtney look at her two daughters. Next to that photo sits a photo of Joss laying down against a completely black background with only her bare, rounded belly in focus with two tiny, pink, baby booties resting on top.

  Next to that, I see the photo of Nina and Josh’s beautiful, now one-year-old daughter, Kenzie. In the photo, she’s nearly bald except for one proud, translucent, golden blonde curl tied on the top of her head with a pastel pink bow. Her cute little nose is scrunched up into an adorable smile, revealing her first two tiny, little teeth as she holds on to an oversized number one prop. Kenzie graced this earth the second she was born and the very first time her beautiful blue eyes looked onto mine, I felt that look of motherly love on my own face. I was worried that I wouldn’t know how to express that type of love because as a child I never felt that for myself. I was so wrong.