by John Osborne
“I wonder if our hearts can beat together, too?” he whispered.
Willow smiled slightly, but then her face grew serious.
“Noah, I did a lot of thinking today. About you, and me, and us. You’re right, there’s always been an us. Call it what you will, fate, destiny, reincarnation … that’s all too complicated for this simple fairy woman. All I know is what my heart tells me. You were meant to appear at my door. I’m glad you did, and I’m glad you took a chance on a reclusive, bitter little woman. I thought I could never be tender with a man again, but here you are.” She paused and bit her lip. “Long ago, Noah, I made a big mistake. The man I told you about … you’re so like him…” She stopped again, as if unsure of her words. Tears formed in her eyes. “I let him leave. And I’ve been alone ever since. I won’t make the same mistake again.”
She climbed atop Noah and kissed him gently.
You’re not afraid.
Willow moved her lips to his ear and whispered. “I don’t want to be alone anymore, Noah. I want you.”
Noah wrapped his arms around his fairy, his friend, his lover.
“Let’s go home,” he whispered.
Nineteen
Noah turned the truck around as usual when they reached the tree across the lane, not easy to do with Willow sitting as close as possible with her hand resting on his leg. They decided to forego using a flashlight in case Jones was prowling. Willow clasped tight to Noah’s hand and guided them through the dark. When they reached the cottage, she opened the gate and door and flipped on the light. Warmth flowed out, as well as the wonderful aromas of home.
They stripped off their coats and hats and removed their shoes and boots. Shadow, who had waited dutifully for their arrival, trotted off to the pool room for a drink and a snack. Willow stepped down to the floor.
“A girl’s wings need a good stretch after being confined all that time.” She stripped off her sweatshirt and tossed it up into the loft. The red amulet around her neck contrasted with a white camisole.
You wore that little camisole the night you showed me your wings.
“It’s kind of like when you gotta crack your knuckles,” she said. She pulled her wings out of her jeans and waved them about every direction, and then shook them, starting at her back and proceeding to the tips.
You will never know that I call that “the dog shake.” He grinned at her.
“What?” she asked.
“I’m still getting used to seeing a person pop their wings out.”
“That wasn’t a pop,” she said with her trademark mischievous grin. She lowered her wings so they hung straight down behind her. “This is a pop.” She brought her wings rapidly to flight position, creating a loud crack that made Noah jump. “Ta da!” she said and spread her arms out wide.
“Cool.”
“Would you like some tea?” she asked.
You’ll convert me to tea yet. “Sure.”
Willow hummed to herself while she filled the teakettle. Her glow reflected from the microwave.
Every day you edge away from the darkness.
“I need to get out of these jeans,” Willow said as she returned from the kitchen.
“Go right ahead,” Noah said.
“I should have said change out of these jeans. And I was talking to myself.” She flashed a flirty smile and fluttered her wings.
“Oh. My mistake.”
She bounded up the stairs two at a time. Noah heard her fumbling in drawers and then the rustle of the tight jeans sliding off her legs. He glanced up and could see her head above the loft wall as she stood up. She smiled and turned her back. From her movements he knew she was turning back the bedcovers.
Perhaps I should go up and help…
Willow careened down the stairs, humming softly. She still wore the camisole but had changed into gray exercise shorts and was barefoot. Her expression was quizzical.
“What were you thinking?” she asked.
Noah’s face colored. “I was thinking I’m glad you put on shorts because I like your gorgeous legs.”
Willow’s radiance intensified and she blushed. “My fat fairy legs?” she said, extending a leg out in front of her. “They look like Bumble legs.”
“Willow, nothing could be farther from the truth. There’s not a fat thing on you.”
She smiled, but her look said she doubted his sincerity.
“Are you warm enough?” she said. “I’m going to build up the fire.” She busied herself with the wood stove, kneeling with her back to Noah. She opened the door, stirred the coals and added wood, and then dropped to her hands and knees to blow on the flames.
Oh, my. What a view.
Willow rose upright on her knees and looked over her shoulder. Her glow faded; confusion clouded her features.
“What was that?” she asked. “Is that what a man feels when…”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I just…” Noah could feel his face and ears turning red. He nearly broke his own rule on apologies. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Willow closed the stove door, rose to her feet and sat down next to him on the sofa. She snuggled under his arm, drew her legs up to her chin, and sat in a ball with her wings tucked behind and beneath her.
“Upset isn’t the right word,” she said. “It was … creepy. I had no idea it felt that way for a man. It was so … intense, so … what’s a good word … visceral? Is that how I make you feel?”
“Not always. Sometimes. Well … often.”
Like every time I look at you.
Noah fumbled for words, too lost in Willow’s eyes to concentrate. He took a big breath and let out a sigh. With both hands, he reached for her right hand and examined it. Turning it palm up and then palm down, he gently traced the graceful shape of her fingers and thumb. Laid on top of his hand, it was dwarfed.
“So tiny. So perfect,” he said while he contemplated the little hand. He pressed it to his cheek, kissed its back lightly and turned it to kiss her palm. He made himself look into her eyes. She met his gaze unblinking but her expression softened somewhat. Faint radiance returned to her cheeks.
“Willow, I used to think I knew what the word beautiful meant. It meant perfect hairdos, exact makeup, pretty clothes, and great figures, but I had it all wrong. I hadn’t met you yet, so I didn’t know any better.”
I can’t concentrate when you look at me this way!
Willow’s entire face illuminated and a smile brushed her features.
“Everything I knew about beautiful got tossed out the window the moment you opened your door to me the first time. I’ve never known a woman anything like you. You’re warm and caring and thoughtful and fun and enthusiastic and many other wonderful things, but open and vulnerable and brutally honest, too. You leave me speechless.”
Willow smiled. “Hmm. Seems to me you’re finding words.”
Noah shrugged. “Willow, what I let you feel is only part of my attraction to you. You draw me in every way. I … I’ve been all wrong about love.” He continued to look at her tiny hand. Over the next few seconds, a floodlight seemed to have fallen on it. He raised his eyes; Willow was the source, lighting up everything around her. Her face and neck shone, and the glow spread until it shone through the camisole. Her expression was at once enchanted and tender. She gently removed her hand from his and touched his cheek. Its strange warmth caressed his face.
“My Noah,” she whispered.
The enchantment was complete. He was hers to command.
“No one has ever claimed me as their own,” he said.
“I claim you now. You brought my light back.”
“I see that.”
“I don’t mean this,” she said and waved a hand at her face. She straightened her legs out and leaned her head against his arm. “I haven’t been able to illuminate for a long time. Many years.”
“Since your parents disappeared?”
“Longer. Much longer.”
“But you glowed the n
ight I saw you fly.”
“The magic had returned by then. Noah, I liked you the first time I saw you. That’s why I let you photograph the pond. When we touched hands that first day, I sensed something special between us. I didn’t know what, and it frightened me, but it drew me, too. I told you to call me Willow. I’ve never done anything like that, but deep inside, fairy intuition or whatever told me it would be okay.
“When I got back to the cottage that first day I went into the kitchen to clean up the dish I dropped when you knocked. I saw a glare on the microwave door. It was me, glowing. I was thinking about you.” She grinned. “I was thinking about you the next day at the pond, too, when you saw me fly. The magic has grown stronger ever since, and so have my feelings for you, despite all my tantrums and starts and stops.” She caressed his face again. “Those beautiful gray eyes … I can’t look into them enough. Fairies all have brown eyes, you know.”
Noah blushed fiercely.
“Noah, about what I said in my parents’ room…” She paused, seeming to collect her thoughts.
I will never forget those words.
“My heart won, Noah. I had everything backward. My head told me I had to work through all my issues before I could love again, but tonight my heart spoke louder. Or maybe it was yours. I need to love and to be loved. I can’t deal with my problems alone. I need you, Noah.” Willow took his hand in hers and kissed it.
Noah’s heart swelled with emotion. “I love you, Willow.”
“I love you, too, Noah.”
At last.
He leaned down and kissed her, a long soft kiss. Fairy fragrance filled his senses. They shared the kiss that has its own life; nothing else existed except The Kiss. While it lived, there was no Willow and no Noah. Life became the soft swirling of senses fused by the blessing of their enchantment. How long did The Kiss last? Eternity and an instant. Their lips could not part until The Kiss released them to become Noah and Willow, human and fairy, man and woman, separate again.
Willow moved a hand to Noah’s mouth and gently stroked it with her fingers. “Wow,” she said. Noah could only nod his accord.
Noise caught their attention, disturbed their reverie: the teakettle whistling. Willow jumped up to attend to it.
Who cares about tea at a time like this?
Noah’s neck hurt from bending to kiss a little fairy. He twisted it to work out the kinks. Willow likewise rubbed her neck when she returned from the kitchen. They spied each other and giggled together.
“The hazards of loving a fairy,” Noah said.
“Or a cowboy,” Willow said. “Let’s try this.” She sat on his lap with her legs perpendicular to his, with her wings hanging straight down. She put her arms around his neck and pulled herself close to him, bathing Noah in her warmth. They dared return to The Kiss, and lost themselves in its spell.
After The Kiss left them, they sat quietly for several minutes with Willow’s head laid on Noah’s shoulder.
Did we kiss once or was it many times? For a minute or an hour?
A soft crackle floated from the woodstove. Willow stirred and sat up straight. They kissed again, less intensely, exploring, experimenting. Noah caressed her cheek, her neck and then her shoulder, admiring the softness and smoothness of her skin. Illumination appeared wherever he touched her. His hand floated down her chest and caressed her through the camisole. When he touched her breast, she broke off the kiss. Her glow failed, and disquiet filled her, he sensed.
Did I do something wrong?
“What is it?” he whispered. “Should I not…”
“No, no, you’re fine,” she said, shaking her head, but with a halfhearted smile.
“Willow, if you’re not ready to do this, it’s okay.”
“I want to, really, I do. I want you to touch me … all of me.” She lowered her eyes to examine his chin for a moment. “Noah, I haven’t been with a man for a long, long time.” She raised her head. “Your touch … it’s so tender. But it brings back awful things.” Her eyes drifted away, and she touched the scar on her left wrist with the other hand.
If I could just kill the bastard that hurt you, with my own hands.
Noah stilled his rage.
What can I do to help you, my love?
“Sit up straight and look at me,” he ordered. Willow sat up and he placed her hands in her lap. She said nothing, though her face was full of questions. “Keep looking at me, no matter what. Okay?”
Willow nodded.
Noah took a deep breath and let it out. “Did you know this thin, sexy camisole you’re wearing has seven little buttons?” Willow smiled and raised her eyebrows.
“It does,” Noah went on. “I know it does because I counted them the night you came to my motel room. While we sat and talked I counted them fifty times.”
“I’ll bet you did.”
“I did. I really did. Since then I’ve thought about this little row of buttons every day and night. I’ve thought about what it would be like to unbutton them. One at a time.” Willow’s radiance brightened. Noah reached for the top button and without hurry, unfastened it and then let his hand rest on her bare leg.
“One,” he said. Willow’s expression was a mixture of arousal and terror, but she kept her eyes locked on Noah’s. He raised his hand and starting at the bottom, played his way up the camisole to the waiting second button, stopping to twirl each tiny white disk. Her stomach muscles contracted slightly. He unfastened the button.
“Two.” He pulled his hand away for only a moment before his fingers returned and approached the third button. He didn’t touch it but instead parted the camisole and stroked the soft skin beneath. Willow’s eyes flicked down for an instant. “No cheating,” he said. “Eyes on mine.” She nodded. He drew circles on the soft flesh between her breasts, spiraling up to her neck. Her glow spread with his touch and he felt her fear subside as the balance tipped toward excitement.
Progress!
He moved to the third button and with maddening slowness unfastened it.
“Three.” Willow breathed through her mouth, fast and shallow. Noah spread his hand and opened the loose portion of the camisole. His fingers brushed the edges of both breasts. Willow’s breath caught in her throat; the past shadowed her face. “Stay here,” he whispered. Her attention returned and she looked as if she’d forgotten him for a moment. Noah removed his hand and caressed her leg. When she relaxed, he raised his hand to the fourth button, only to feel her tense up again.
“Feel the magic, Willow.” She obeyed, and her passion flourished again. Noah unfastened the button but kept his hand still. She looked at him expectantly, but he didn’t speak. They sat motionless for many seconds. Then Willow spoke, her voice husky.
“Four.”
Noah nodded his agreement. His fingers glided down to the fifth button and opened it.
“Five,” he said. Willow kept her eyes on his. Her terror melted into thrill and curiosity. The camisole was open far enough he could expose her with a simple flick of his hand. Instead, he dropped the hand to her leg.
Let’s see how you handle this…
His eyes left her face and caressed her. He studied her neck, her chest and shoulders. As his eyes moved, he might have been touching her, light erupting at each place he admired. As his eyes stroked the exposed upper curves of her breasts, goose flesh started at her neck and spread down her body until the leg under his hand quivered. She squirmed on his lap.
“Did they teach you how to torture a woman at photography school?” she asked.
“Yes.” He returned his eyes to hers. “The first day. And I did extra credit work in torturing little fairies.”
“I believe it.”
Noah pulled her face to his and kissed her. A long, slow, soft kiss. He secretly unfastened the next button, slipped his hand inside the camisole and stroked her stomach. She started at the touch and pulled her mouth away from his, breathing hard. His face remained close to hers, reassuring.
“Six,” he said.
You’re alright. Trust me.
He released her and she sat upright again. The camisole gapped at the front. Noah caressed her warm belly for a moment, then pulled his hand out of its confines, and moved to the last button. He worked it open, but stopped as the button was about to pull through the hole, so that the slightest touch would finish the task. Willow looked at the button, his hand, the camisole, her nearly bare chest, and then at Noah.
“Should I do it?” he asked.
Fear contorted her features, fear that extinguished her glow. Her eyes returned to his but stared into nothingness. A chill swept through Noah; her demons had returned. He sensed the struggle within her, felt her try to force the fiends away. Turmoil of fear and desire painted her face, moving between the haunting of a past she could not escape and the hope of a future she dare not claim.
Please Goddess, take her pain away.
Noah’s heart ached, but he remained still, for no outside force, no matter how well meaning or how loving, could intervene. The whirlpool of Willow’s emotions besieged him. He held her, to be there when needed, however her battle resolved. Her anguish distracted him and he barely heard when she spoke in a quiet, but firm voice.
“Enough. You’ll rule my life no more,” she said to someone unseen. Her hands clenched into fists. Strain paled her face, but Noah sensed a new resolve, a new strength. Her eyes lit with the present again. Color returned to her cheeks and she smiled. Her face illuminated, and before his eyes, she transformed from the sweet, troubled little fairy with a pretty smile to the confident, strong seductress. A wave of desire, her desire, washed over him as radiance raced down her body.
“Yes. Unbutton it.” Before Noah could move, she grasped the camisole from his hand, opened and removed it, and then let the garment slip to the floor. Mixed with her strong desire was an almost teenage bashfulness and embarrassment. She smiled shyly and blushed at her own immodesty.
“Seven,” she said.
You can be hard to keep up with, little fairy.
Noah gazed at her bare torso, as if for the first time. She waited, seeking his approval or rejection. Finally, she took his hand, pressed it to her bare breast and held it there. She closed her eyes and absorbed his caresses. A fresh emotion bloomed, something he could only call heat, which kindled to fire and quickly blazed in Noah’s belly.
