by Rc Bonitz
"You're so beautiful," he murmured in her ear.
"You talk too much," she said hoarsely and yanked the nightie over her head. He slipped out of his shorts and took her in his arms pressing his erection hard against her groin. Her skin was electric with his touch as he ran his fingers everywhere, setting her afire.
Later, her skin damp with sweat, she lay back in his arms, her mind and body warm and contented for the first time in a long time.
"That was quick," he said.
"It's been a long time coming."
"Same for me."
"You've been a Pure Boy since your wife died?"
He chuckled. "I've been a soft boy. You were right. I needed her permission."
She cocked an eyebrow at him. "What changed tonight?"
"You."
"I don't get it."
"You said I had to find permission in myself. I did."
"Oh." Had she actually said that? Must have.
He planted a kiss on her breast. "I have a terrible memory for music, but Frank Sinatra used to sing a song called "Come Fly With Me." Something like that. I'm thinking of a variation on the theme."
"I'm not sure I understand."
"My version is, "Come Sail With Me.""
She hesitated, still not quite sure what he was asking. "I don't have much time for play in my life."
"I'm thinking something more than an afternoon sail."
Lissey found herself almost breathless. He wanted her to sail away with him? What else could he mean?
"Your mom and dad can run the shop. Or you can close it down."
"I can't do that. They depend on me." Yes, and she'd been thinking about moving to the States. What was wrong with her brain? What was she afraid of? Her heart thudded in her chest as she recalled his recitation of his memories of his wife. "I'm not your wife, Jake."
He brushed a finger across her lips. "Shh, I know. But we have to start somewhere."
He kissed her again. Butterflies filled her belly as he held her close, then rolled her up on top of him and ran his hand slowly, barely touching, along her spine. This was so sweet, so lovely and so wonderful, she didn't want it to end, ever, ever, never. Dare she hope? A cold chill struck her heart. Ramon had been the same seductive way when he'd made love to her all those years ago. She had to change the subject.
"What would you have done if I wasn't outside when you came ashore?" she asked.
"Thrown pebbles at your window to wake you."
"That's not very original."
"It's what they do in movies."
She laughed. "We don't have many pebbles here."
"I know, only sand. I would have figured something out."
"I'm sure you would have."
"Never mind. You are so beautiful, my Lissey."
He sounded so passionate, so sincere. So like Ramon. "Liar, liar, pants on fire."
He laughed again. "You are, and I've only said that to one other woman in my life."
Cynicism vying with excitement, she struggled to control the dangerous beating of her heart. "Your wife I presume."
He nodded, the movement barely discernible in the darkness. "The only other woman I have ever loved."
A shiver of excitement ran up her back. Only other woman? She had to be careful; she liked this way too much.
"You're in my heart every minute of every day," he murmured.
"Let me roll over. If we're going to do it again, let's get to it."
"What's wrong? Why the rush?"
Why indeed. The knot in her stomach said she was afraid. Sex was one thing; sweet nothings in her ear could only get her hopes up, could only capture her heart and leave it ready to be shattered once again. She was lost already, captured by his words and touch. What if he sailed off like Ramon did? He actually said he loved her. Well, Ramon had said those same words more than once so that probably signified nada. She had to still her heart, had to get control of herself before she fell under his spell once more.
"You talk too much," she muttered again.
He found her lips with his again and rolled her off him to her back. "We need to talk. Look up at that sky."
"The stars are out tonight."
"See how bright they are? They sparkle like small diamonds in the darkness. You do that you know."
"I sparkle?"
He laughed. "That too. I meant you make the stars shine brighter than I've ever seen them before."
"That's silly."
"Nope, it's true. You make everything in my life shine brighter."
"You're just saying that."
He stared at her without a word, letting silence stretch out between them. Then he drew a deep breath. "You don't trust me."
"Don't be rid—"
He cut her off with a kiss and wrapped his arms around her in a breathtaking hug. The feel of him, so solid and so strong, sent waves of excitement racing through her body. He released her and slid his hands down her back, letting his touch linger on her hips, then on her waist, then on her breasts.
"I–"
"Shh. You talk too much," he whispered and nibbled at her ear.
His words and touch and lying next to him without a stitch of clothing turned her mind to mush. She hadn't done this in such a long time; she was ready for him again. She reached for his erection.
"Let's go slow this time," he said and kissed her breasts, one and then the other, then moved down to her belly and beyond until only one thing mattered; the heat and wet and fire that took control as she lay back, ready for whatever he would do.
****
Even as Jake pushed himself up on his elbows and gave her a chaste kiss, weariness replaced the warm feeling of fulfillment in her body. Who knew the time exactly, but she had been up at least twenty hours and thirteen of them had been on her feet.
"You are amazing," he said and rolled off her to snuggle up beside her. Touching a finger to her lips, he bent his head and followed with another kiss, this time to her breast.
"Don't start again, Jake, please. I'm exhausted."
He gave a soft laugh. "We did this backwards, you know."
"Backwards?"
"Yeah. We should have gotten intimate before we got intimate."
"Maybe my brain is asleep, but that makes no sense to me."
He laughed again. "We should have gotten to know one another before we did the deed."
"We know each other," she protested, but knew as soon as she spoke he meant more than just a few words exchanged over breakfast and some romantic tomfoolery on the beach. Except she hoped, oh she hoped, it was more than that.
"I don't know your dreams," he said. "Or your history."
"I don't have any dreams," she whispered.
"No plans, no wishes, no desires? You're happy working long backbreaking days with no end in sight? No husband, no children?"
Lissey sighed. Her weary brain could not deal with this at the moment. "No, not really."
"Well?"
"What about you? What do you dream about?"
"I'm easy. I want the life I had before my wife died."
"Oh."
"A terrific life."
She didn't respond. His wife again, he still wanted her back?
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"That's a dream you can't have anymore."
He grunted. "There are other terrific women in this world. I'm talking to one of them right now."
Lissey's breath caught in her throat. What could she say?
"I think you had dreams once upon a time. I'd like to bring them back to life," he murmured.
She sighed. There was no escaping his questions. She'd ducked her own long enough. "I've been thinking about moving to the States and going to college."
"That sounds good. Go for it."
Her foggy brain was catching up to her. "My mom and dad," she mumbled.
He reached a hand across her belly and pulled her close against him. "Your mom and dad need to take care of themselves. They're too young to be retire
d."
What did he say? Sleep had her in its grip now. He was talking, but his words were an indistinct jumble. "Tired," she whispered and was gone.
****
The screech of the alarm clock shocked her from sleep at five. Lissey lifted leaden lids, uncertain for a second where she was. She rolled over and struggled upright, her body protesting every muscle twitch. What time had she finally crawled into bed? The last thing she remembered was lying on the beach curled up in Jake's embrace. No, that was wrong. He had carried her to the front door and set her on her feet, then opened the door and gently nudged her inside. She'd practically been sleep walking, she'd been so tired.
She ran a hand through her hair. Yuck, how did she get so much sand in her hair? She giggled. All that horizontal thrashing about they did, that must have done it. Jake had been so sexy loving her the second time, selfless, doing everything to make it special for her. His every touch, caress, and kiss had turned her into a wanton woman. They had come together in a mad explosion of passion and desire. Oh my gosh! She hugged herself with the memory. Darling man. He had put her nightie back on for her before he sent her off to bed
She stood and headed for the bathroom. The image that stared back at her from the mirror above the sink needed a little beauty treatment. Bags under her eyes, straggly hair, she even had a hickey on the left side of her neck. A grin lit her face at the sight of it. Her mother would notice that. Well, she'd give her mom another tidbit to think about. When Jake came in for breakfast she'd greet him with a kiss. A hug too, a big one.
Lavinia would have a fit but that was too bad. Lissey had no regrets, the night had been wonderful. Jake had been so bloody sexy. She wanted more of that and the time she'd spent curled up afterward in his strong arms. Even if she did fall asleep on him.
Twenty minutes later, in the shop and kneading dough, her mind churned with memory and sensation. One idea was quite clear as she hashed over everything that happened. She wanted Jake Wainright in her life. More than sexy, he'd made her feel like a princess. In spite of all her reservations, all her doubts and resolutions, he'd stolen her heart.
What was that he'd said after they'd climaxed that second time and he'd eased off her? He had chattered on, asking her about her dreams and the secrets of her life. Fatigue clogged her memory of what he'd said, but he'd been sweet, that she knew. She'd never realized he could be so talkative. If only she could remember what he'd said.
He hadn't said a word about marriage, but she knew he loved her. She smiled. Sail away with him. He'd called her terrific, she remembered that now. They would have a child together, a little one, a delightful, brilliant, independent charmer just like Emma. She hugged herself. Who would have thought he'd turn out to be so sweet and wonderful? She couldn't wait to see him this morning, he and Emma too. And to see her mother's face when she greeted him with a great big smooch.
By a quarter to seven she was ready for the day. The baking was done, the cases filled, and the fishermen had been in for coffee before heading out to sea. Only Peter failed to make an appearance. He hadn't been in yesterday either. Apparently, turning down his proposal meant she would lose his business too. Too bad, that six dollars every day added up.
She had a few minutes before her scheduled opening. The urge to wander seized her once again, to see if Jake and Emma were awake yet, to wave to him if he was, to see him as soon as he came ashore. Hurrying down the path, she headed for the gas dock.
Her father's mooring sat out there, just the mooring ball, bobbing naked in the gentle waves. She stopped dead in her tracks, all the breath gone from her lungs.
They were gone? Jake and Emma gone, after last night. A sob caught in her throat. He took off, just like Ramon left her all those years ago. She groaned. Maybe though, maybe he'd gone out for an early morning sail? Or moved the boat to a slip on one of the docks? Heart racing, she tore along the waterfront, searching up and down each dock, looking for that now familiar worn and tired live-aboard. Nothing, no sign of his boat at all.
Louis stood on the gas dock, a mug of coffee in his hand.
She stopped, her eyes glistening, unable to do anything but stare at him.
"Your mama, she made him mad yesterday. That was not good."
Lissey frowned, trying to respond somehow, but afraid she'd simply burst into tears. Louis had it wrong, he had to. They'd made love last night, Jake couldn't have acted out of anger at her mother. Was he that devious, that he'd pretend to love her just to get revenge for a stupid remark? That could not be true.
"He was a good man."
Why didn't he shut up? Be quiet Louis, don't tell me any more.
"You want me to look for him? If they left this morning I might catch them."
Lissey frowned, her emotions in chaos, but a semblance of rational thought tugging at her brain. Search for them? Would he come back? There was a chance if he had a good reason for leaving as he had. A premonition, someone who'd warned him detectives were coming after Emma? Could that be possible? But who could know that? Who could call him on his mobile in the wee hours of the morning? Besides, what message would she send with Louis? Not to them really, to Jake, just him, but Emma couldn't force him to return. What could she tell him? A knot seized up in her stomach. He'd lied and left her, exactly like Ramon did in the middle of the night so long ago. Maybe even while she stood there in the kitchen baking cherry tarts for Emma and dreaming about him. Now what? Was she supposed to beg him to come back?
Part of her screamed yes. She shoved the thought aside. She'd been such a blind fool. Again.
"No thank you, Louis. If they want to leave I don't care."
A hell of a morning. Lavinia came strolling down to the dock looking obscenely cheerful.
"What a gorgeous day this is," she said.
"Yes," Lissey said, trying, not succeeding, to match her mother's optimistic demeanor.
"How are you today, Louis?"
"I'm good, Mama. I'm good."
"We'll get a lot of tourists today with the weather like it is," Lavinia said.
"Yes, Mama." Lissey gave herself a shake. She would not brood over Jake's deceit, not the way she did when Ramon took off and dumped her. She'd been right, she hadn't trusted him, not completely, not with her heart. Except, she had in spite of herself. A tear trickled down her cheek. Fool, fool, fool, she'd been so dumb. Well, to hell with him. She wouldn't grieve over him, or over Emma either; she wasn't her child. She was done with Ramon too and Caroline was long gone. She would start her life anew. This very morning.
Lissey and her mother entered the shop to find her father pouring a cup of java, his usually cheerful, ruddy face wearing a frown. "Morning everyone. Anybody know what happened to ‘Fantasy’?"
"Which boat is that?" Lavinia asked.
"That nice young red-headed guy and his son. Bruce whatever his name was."
"He's gone?" Lavinia muttered, casting a sideways glance at Lissey.
"Yes Mama, sometime last night," Lissey said, trying, not succeeding, to imprint a smile on her face.
"What the hell happened? I thought they were going to stay a while," Sam said.
"You know these live-aboards, they come and go with the wind," Lavinia said.
"I thought that guy was different. Something about him, you know," Sam said.
"They're all the same," Lavinia muttered.
Lissey poured herself a cup of coffee.
****
Three o'clock that afternoon, normally a slack time, a golf cart rolled up outside the shop. Lissey recognized it as one of the rentals from Handy's at the other end of the island. A man dismounted and entered the shop. Stringy dark hair sticking out from under a faded New York Yankees cap. Overweight and sweating in a dark suit, he looked like what he was, a totally out of place stranger to the island. He was not a tourist, that much Lissey knew before he sat down.
"Can I help you?" she said as she reached his table.
"You got any Miller?"
She shook her head.
"Red Stripe and other local beers."
"Anything then, but nothing like a stout."
"Do you want something to eat?"
He turned and studied the display case. "What are those red things? Strawberry something?"
"Cherry tarts."
"Gimme two of those. The beer first though."
She brought him the beer and started to turn away.
"Hey, hang on a minute. Take a seat."
"I'm sorry, I'm working."
"That don't matter, this is business."
Lissey shrugged and continued to stand but didn't leave the table.
"Your choice." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded photograph, flipped it open and held it up for her to see. "I'm a private detective. Looking for a guy with a kid. His name's Jake Wainright, but he might go by anything these days. The kid's name is Emma."
Lissey struggled to control her expression and her heart beat. Jake had been honest with her and here was the final proof. A warm tingle of happiness swept over her for some reason. What did it matter, he was gone.
Then she met the man's eyes. Rapiers, probing like lasers, they dug into her soul searching for lies. She steadied herself, struggling for calm in the face of his intensity. How to answer? Ask for ID; no that would tell him she had something to hide. Stare him down? She could try but what if she succeeded, what would that tell him. More than she wanted to. It dawned on her that she wanted to protect Emma and her father from this man. Jake as much as Emma? Yes by gosh, even if he did sail off and leave her. The realization almost overwhelmed her, but she would not get emotional in front of this man. She turned her attention back to the picture.
"This is Mr. Wainright?" she asked, her voice tight despite her best efforts to control it.
"Yeah."
There was a woman in the photo, a pretty woman holding a baby, Jake's arm around her waist, the two of them smiling at the camera. Emma must have been about six months old at the time. Jake had thick curly dark hair. In spite of herself Lissey almost smiled. "Who's the woman?"
