To Catch a Falling Star

by L. Duarte

  Mel swallows hard, and I stifle a laugh. “I don’t think I can have a sleepover, Ella, but if it is okay with your mom, I would love to watch the movie with you.”

  “Please!” Dominick and Ella turn to Mel, and beg in unison.

  “Sure, he can.” Mel smiles indulgently.

  I grin, as Jim places our food over the table. My eyes study her face intently, Mel can never say no to anybody. Maybe that’s the way for me to unlock the door to her heart. I scoop a spoon full of green slime and bring it to my lips.

  “Goddamnit, Mel, this soup is delicious,” I say with a foolish grin on my face.

  “I know, even the kids like it,” she says, shooting me a smile.

  “Dominick is spending the night over?” I ask.

  “Yeah, it’s Will and Portia’s date night. The kids love to spend the time together.” Warmth radiates from her eyes.

  “Those two are on a perpetual honeymoon,” I say.

  “Yeah, that’s true. I love to watch them. It’s like watching a real life fairy tale.” She sighs. “I’m glad, it exists for some people,” she says genuinely.

  I grip my thighs to prevent my hands from caressing her cheeks. She seems lost, and I want to wrap my arms tightly around her. The feeling is palpable, and it swamps me with a desire to connect to Mel in a way I’ve never connected to anyone. The surge of these new emotions is scary as hell, but it also excites me.

  I hope my face does not translate the fucking lovesick puppy feelings swamping my heart.

  WHAT IS THE matter with me? The desire hammering inside me is terrifying. Tarry stares at me with those hooded eyes of his and I go berserk. Seriously, he’s not even hitting on me. His stare is enough to unravel me. Crap. I need to rein in my emotions.

  We finish the meal and leave the restaurant. My traitor’s body stirs to life when his hand rests on the small of my back. His touch sets me on fire. I say a little grace for having the kids near me.

  “You didn’t have to pay for us, Tarry. Thank you.”

  “Really, I’m kind of old-fashioned. I would never allow a date to pay for a meal,” he says, but I notice his body stiffen after the comment.

  “Well, this was not a date. And I find your principle quite chauvinistic.”

  “I rather think I am being a gentleman. And trust me, Mel, I’m not much of a nice guy at all so I reserve the right to be a gentleman occasionally.” He seems irritated.

  “You can’t fool me, Tarry. You’re a genuinely nice guy,” I say, trying to lighten the sudden sour mood.

  “Whatever.” He shrugs.

  “Mommy, can we ride with Uncle Tarry?” Ella asks.

  “Yeah, sure,” I say, turning to avoid Tarry’s burning stare.

  After switching the car seat and booster, I drive onto Route One. I wish I could have opposed Tarry coming over. But I can’t really tell the kids that I am horny and attracted to Tarry, so I need to avoid him. God, how can someone be so sexy and handsome? His voice alone disarms, but his proximity is exhilarating and intimidating all at the same time.

  Tarry is a mystery I am trying to unravel. His eyes are always guarded and alluring. But also so sad. When they regard me, I lose track of all surroundings. I hate how vulnerable they make me. It is unnerving.

  I pull into the driveway, step out of the car, and wait for them by the kitchen door. Tarry opens the back door and the kids get out. He carries Dominick and Ella under each arm. I open the door and follow them inside. The kids squeal with delight.

  “I’ll put the movie on.” I enter the living room and smile when Tarry drops them on the big couch.

  “Jeez, Mel, these kids are giving me an additional workout.” His grin tenses my every muscle. He looks so darn handsome.

  I busy myself putting the DVD on. The kids settle down on the couch as I go to make some popcorn.

  “Do you want coffee?” I ask Tarry.

  “Yeah, why not?” he says, following me.

  Crap, I wanted to put some distance between us. I didn’t intend for him to follow me into the kitchen.

  I retrieve a bag of popcorn from the cabinet and place it in the microwave. Tarry leans over the sink and crosses his arms over his chest. His presence is heady and dominating. I get the coffee pot and look at him uncertainly. “Excuse me.” I clear my throat and collect my scattered brain. Why do I feel so idiotic near him?

  His eyes twinkle in amusement and his lips twitch into a smile. “Why are you so tense, Mel, are you afraid I’ll kiss you?” He regards me, all yummy and distracting.

  “First of all, I’m not afraid or tense. Second, you’ll not kiss me,” I say, but my traitor’s eyes look at his lips. Crap, they look so delectable.

  A mirthless laugh rumbles on his chest.

  “Of course I will, Mel. And we both know it.” He moves to the side. I feel my face flushing as I fill the pot with water.

  I put the coffee to brew, retrieve the popcorn, and place it in a bowl. “Here, would you bring this to the kids?”

  When the coffee is ready, I pour it into mugs.

  I join them in the living room to watch the movie. I’m pissed for being so obvious in the kitchen. I hand the coffee to Tarry, avoiding eye contact. Mom says my eyes are always my giveaway. With my foolish desire to kiss him, the last thing I need to do is to encourage Tarry with my eyes.

  I slump on the love seat across from the big couch.

  “I’m going to use your bathroom.” Tarry sprints from the big couch he’s sharing with the kids.

  “Sure, you know where it is.” I fix my eyes on the movie I have watched about a hundred times.

  A few minutes later, Tarry returns. He sinks on the couch next to me. My head snaps to the side. I see an amused smile on his face. Bastard, he just found a reason to sit next to me without being obvious to the kids. I am unsure if the gesture makes me mad or flattered. But, I am sure that his heady proximity makes me dizzy.

  He swings his arm around my shoulder, and slouches deep down into the couch, pulling me under his embrace. His warmth envelops me. He exudes a faint smell of cigarettes and a citrus scent. My mouth goes dry when he pulls me even closer to him. I risk a glance at the children, but they seem engrossed by the movie. I squirm tensely under his touch.

  “Are you comfortable?” He breathes in my ear.

  “Yes,” I whisper, breathless.

  Slowly, my body begins to relax. The two doubles I’ve pulled started to take a toll on me. I fight to keep my eyes open and to resist the unbidden desire to curl up to Tarry. I’ve been operating on a few hours of sleep for the past three days and I feel the heavy pull of slumber dragging me under. Too tired to resist the urge, I succumb to a deep sleep.

  MY EYES OPEN slowly. Languidly, I stretch my legs. The TV is off and a lamp casts a soft light. I scan the living room when my eyes meet Tarry’s stare. He’s lounging on the small love seat with me. His warmth envelops me.

  “Where are the kids?” I ask disoriented. Glancing at the digital clock, I see it’s two in the morning. Whoa. What happened?

  “Damn, Mel, you were out, huh?” He smiles and sits up.

  Realizing I slept through the movie, I sit up and stretch my body. I rub my face, noticing Tarry has his eyes fixed on me. Hesitantly, I scramble up.

  “Thank you for seeing the kids to bed.”

  “I even read them a bedtime story. I’m surprised you didn’t wake up. We were not very quiet.” He yawns and stands, facing me.

  “I’m sorry, you should have woken me.” Tarry is inches away, towering over me. My fingers itch with a desperate need to touch him.

  I can clearly see he is debating whether or not he should kiss me. His eyes regard me, and I sense anxiety emanating from his exquisite body.

  “You are so beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers gently tracing down my face and along my neck.

  My body shivers and a whimper escapes from my throat.

  “I never wanted something as badly as I want to kiss you right now. What is happening to me,
Mel?” His voice is laced with anguish, and longing.

  “Okay,” I say, gasping.

  “Okay, kiss me, or okay…?” He regards me anxiously.

  “I um… oh, Tarry.” All my bravado to keep a distance is replaced by an intoxicating and crushing need for him.

  Hesitantly, I raise my hand to caress his face. His blond stubble is soft against my fingers. A wave of wanton desire sways me. My insides tighten. He’s so daunting and attractive.

  His hand cups my face and a low growl rises from his throat. His mouth captures mine. I surrender to the overpowering touch of his lips, relishing in the erotic movement of his tongue against mine.

  Sweeping his arms around my waist, he drags me closer to his hardened body. Unconsciously, my hands circles his neck. I deepen the kiss, molding myself along his warmth.

  Tarry reacts with fervor to my yielding. His grip on me is so tight I fear he’s going to break me. His mouth devours me. Tarry’s hands cup my ass and he grinds me against his erection.

  I want to prolong the kiss. And I want to pull away. My crazy lust wins. I continue to ravage his lips. Lost in the pool of pleasure, my lips kiss him, my hands slide under his shirt, eagerly touching his feverish skin.

  He growls and trails kisses along my neck biting and suckling as he goes. My breathing is ragged. In a swift movement, I strip his shirt. My teeth scrape along his chest. My fingers grip around his biceps. Dang, his arms are bulking up beautifully.

  “Mel,” he cries.

  The sound of his voice brings me to my senses. Seized by unexpected awareness, I push him away and stagger back. I try to steady my breathing.

  I risk a glance up, and instantly regret it. His eyes are dark and unsearchable, his pupils dilated. I curl my fingers and bring my hands to my chest.

  “Mel.” Tarry steps toward me. Raising one hand, I take a step back.

  “I need you to leave, Tarry.” I close my eyes and inhale deeply. “Now,” I add in a whisper. I then open my eyes.

  He rakes his hands through his hair. “We need to talk about what’s happening between the two of us.”

  “There is no us, or anything to talk about, Tarry. I’m not inclined to be seduced by you. Nor am I disposable. And, Tarry, I want you to stay the hell away from me.”

  Silence hangs heavy between us.

  “Please leave, now,” I say quietly. Water is pooling in my eyes.

  Relief sweeps over me when Tarry obliges to my request. He lets out a frustrated breath, and turns and leaves me. My body is shaking. I wrap my arms around my chest to stop my trembling.

  DAYS COME AND go. A mixture of relief and disappointment fills me. Well, that’s been the confusion and turmoil of my feelings and thoughts anyway. I wonder what can possibly possess me, turning me into this unstable person. I barely recognize myself. From steamy dreams to daydreams, I catch myself constantly thinking of Tarry.

  Seeing him only makes it worse. He has that swagger, which makes my knees weak. Jeez, I’m a ticking hormonal bomb ready to explode. My solution is simple. I return to my initial idea of avoidance. For a full week, I’ve been successful. Well, that and the fact that Tarry is not pushing.

  The only day we have seen each other is Sunday. I confess that I used Ella’s guitar lesson as an excuse to watch him. Oh, those deftly long fingers. Okay, let’s not go down that line of thought. Though he did glance at me with those gorgeous and sad gray eyes, he did not attempt to hurdle me, like he has done in the past.

  Part of my plan is in full mode. If I can make it on time, that is. I curse my car. “Not now, baby.” I turn the key again and the stupid engine sputters to life. Oh, I could weep with gratitude. I step on the gas and though it complains, it obliges and speeds into the road.

  I’m so late, I did not anticipate being caught up writing reports. Even though it seems to be the story of my life. Why did I agree to work on the Saturday I have a date? Oh, yeah. I need the money more than I need to go out with a guy. Perhaps, not. I do need to get some sort of social life, even if it includes a date. I shiver.

  At least I’m not too nervous. Well, maybe a tad. I’ve known Steve for my entire life. So, I’m at ease near him. Actually, we are too comfortable and friendly to go on a date. But that’s was the whole point, right?

  Regret swells in me as I speed home. I consider calling Steve to cancel dinner. But I don’t have the heart.

  What I really want is to stop at a grocery store, buy junk food, rent a Red Box movie, and curl up on the couch with Ella. Yeah, a fairy’s movie would be a perfect way to spend the evening.

  I pull into the driveway, not bothering to park in the garage. Well, I never park in the garage anyway. Tim and I used to park there and make love before going inside the house. The garage haunts me with memories of those days. So, yes, I avoid parking there. I sigh. My life is a pathetic spiral of memories. And, yeah, though I’m caught up in the midst of it all, I do try to avoid it. I do. But it always gets the best of me. I am always in between this internal struggle. It suffocates me.

  I gather the gorgeous dress and the stilettos that Portia gave me, my lingerie, and I head to the bathroom. I hang the dress on the bathroom door. My stomach flips. The small black dress actually makes my body look halfway decent. Probably, it costs more than I make in a week. Thank God for small favors. Portia gives me more clothes than I’m able to wear. She claims designers send her the clothes. Magically, they come in my size. Go figure. She thinks she fools me. I also have more purses, perfumes, and cosmetics than I could afford in my entire year’s salary. All courtesy of Portia.

  In the bathroom, I find my favorite playlist, the King. Glancing at my feet, I wiggle my French-pedicured toes with glee, and put my iPhone in the dock. I like to splurge on one thing, well, two things, actually. I love a pedicure and I love pretty undergarments. Since I rarely spend money on my wardrobe, I regularly treat myself to the two.

  With Elvis crooning one of my all-time favorites, I step under the stream of hot water. I could almost feel the excitement of going on a date. Unbidden thoughts of Tarry being the one I’m going out with, flood my mind. I push the images away and focus on hurrying up.

  I HANG UP the phone. Damn Nola. I wish she would not call me anymore.

  Running my hands over my very long and damp hair, I study myself on the mirror. I need to shave and I need a haircut, badly. Not happening today.

  A ghost of a smile dances on my lips. It’s only been a few weeks that I’ve been training with Lucas, but progress is showing. My chest and arms are beginning to fill in and my face is no longer sunken as before.

  Unconsciously, I wonder what Mel would think of it. Fuck, who am I kidding? Chances of me scoring Mel are one in a million, that girl is just too closed off to the rest of the world. I want her. I need her. The incandescent lust I see in her is not enough to coax her to ignite an affair with me. To aggravate things, Nola keeps calling me. I need to talk to Portia.

  I let out a deep breath. I don a crumpled T-shirt and a faded pair of jeans.

  After pulling on a hoody, I light up a cigarette and amble over to Portia’s house. The autumn air feels chilly on my cheeks. I really enjoy the sound of the silence in this place. I can almost hear the sound of the leaves as they drop from the trees. New England has exquisite foliage.

  My mind reels back to my Melody. Damn, I miss her so badly. I have to be patient and go slow with Mel, but the need to see her is consuming me. Maybe I’ll visit her after dinner. I wonder how she would react to me just dropping by. Hell, she pretty much ignored me at her parents’ on Sunday. She only looked at me during the brief guitar lesson I gave Ella.

  There is my perfect excuse. Guitar lessons.

  I toss the cigarette and stamp it out before opening Portia’s back door. I enter the kitchen and the heady aroma of food tempts my hunger.

  “Hi, peaches.” I plant a kiss on Portia’s cheek and smile. She has turned out to be an awesome cook.

  “Hey, handsome. Just in time to help me. Cut the
se onions, will you? My stomach is churning with the smell of them. I don’t want to hurl again.” She steps to the stove.

  “Where is Will?” I ask, clumsily cutting the onions. My eyes begin to burn. Shit, it will make me teary. I hate cutting onions.

  “He is painting with the kids. Ella spent the day over.” She stirs a pot of white rice.

  “Is Mel here?” I ask with hope.

  “No, she worked all day.”

  “Oh, is she coming over for dinner?” I hand her the board with a heap of diced onions and wipe a fucking tear from my eye.

  “No.” She dumps the onions into hot oil and I hear the sizzling. “Mel has a date tonight. Ella’s sleeping over.”

  Red darts blind me. I curl my fingers into a tight ball. How can she do this? Fuck. I’m giving her time and she’s going on a fucking date with someone else. Fucking unbelievable. I inhale deeply and do my damn best to hold back my anger.

  “Hey, peaches. I forgot to take my meds. Got to go back home,” I say and turn on my heels.

  “Don’t be long. Dinner will be ready soon.”

  “Okay,” I yell before closing the door.

  With long, angry steps, I reach the Jeep. Mel has some explaining to do. Hell, she is going on a date when she won’t even kiss me.

  Without respecting traffic laws, I arrive at her house. Her car is in the driveway, so I park across the street.

  My heart is thumping inside my chest. With a shaking hand, I turn the knob of her kitchen door. It’s unlocked.

  “Mel?” I scan the living room and kitchen. Nothing. I hear music coming from upstairs. Climbing two steps at a time, I head up. From the hallway, I identify the soulful voice of Elvis Presley as he sings “Suspicious Minds.” Mel has good taste for music. This is one of my favorite songs. Yeah, I’m a fan of him.

  The bathroom door is open. I come to a halt at the door. The sight of Mel makes my heart catapults. Fuck. My mouth goes dry.

  Oblivious to my presence, Mel stands by the sink singing. Dressed in black lacy undergarments, she has one foot over the sink as she hastily shaves her leg. Damn, she is insanely hot. It tops any fantasy I have had of her being naked. And I’ve had thousands of those.