I let go of her hand only so she can snap more photos on what appears to be a rather expensive camera. Most people our age use cameras built into Smartphones.
“That’s an impressive piece of equipment,” I note.
“That’s what she said.”
I laugh, but her sultry tone leaves me lightheaded.
She holds the heavy camera out, examining the black body, and shrugs. “This? A birthday present from my daddy. I asked for it because…”
Her pause tells me she’s searching for the right words.
“Memories like these are too precious to chance with a low-quality cell phone camera.”
She aims the lens at me and clicks the shutter button.
I hate getting my picture taken and try to throw my arms up in the air. She peeks at the screen on the camera and grins, showing me.
No success, for me anyway.
She snapped a full-face shot, no hands in the way—and I’m laughing.
I look relaxed, and something else.
Lingering doubts hang like dark clouds, ones I’m afraid will open up and rain the family curse of mental illness down on me, like my brother and birth mother.
In these pictures, though, I look the opposite of depressed.
Happy.
I haven’t been happy for a long time.
And I like it.
Chapter 3
Thea
I’m loving this visit to Hemingway Home so much. It’s a gorgeous property, with so many adorable cats and such a rich history.
It doesn’t hurt I get to visit the home with Shay.
Since I got the first photo of him, he’s relaxed a bit and let me take some more pictures: him poised to dive into the pool, in the room where Hemingway wrote, and next to the cat house which is a perfect miniature of the big house. The best part of each photo, though, is Shay. For a guy who hates having his picture taken, he is quite photogenic.
Model-like.
He blushes when I tell him he has a gorgeous smile.
We walk out of the bookstore laden with a couple bags of presents for my family.
“Hungry?” Shay asks me, but his stomach is rumbling and he is ready to eat, so we’re stopping no matter what I say.
Leaving the property, we stroll over to the little café named after the four-legged fur babies from the Hemingway Home grounds. The restaurant’s tile floors, pastel tabletops, white walls, and pale blue trim create a refreshing atmosphere, a stark contrast to the sauna-like conditions mounting outside. I wasn’t hungry when we walked in, but the tantalizing scent of fried fish entices me to eat from the plate I’d planned on boxing up and taking home. The half of the fish sandwich I ate was bursting with tangy tartar sauce deliciousness, and the fries crisp and salty.
I’m so drained from the heat I can’t imagine heading back out in the stifling mess, and this is as fine a place as any to spend the day.
My belly likes the idea because so many items on the menu are calling my name.
Thea…
“Thea? Hey. Ready to go?”
Shay pays the check and I leave a tip, contributing something to our day out.
As soon as we hit the sidewalk, we’re assaulted by one of the Key West chickens pecking around for scraps.
“Shoo.” I kick in the rooster’s direction, but he is not deterred on his hunt for crumbs.
Shay laughs. “They’re so used to people. It’s a futile effort.”
“There are more cats and chickens than people on this island.” To prove my point, another rooster emerges from the alley, clucking and cawing.
Shay’s lugging the shopping bags with the presents, so I offer to take them. He refuses but asks, “Can we take these back to your place? And then you can change.”
“Change? For what?” I’d expected some more sightseeing, so I’m surprised by his suggestion.
He shakes his head, a wide grin lighting up his face.
I swear his teeth are brighter than the scorching mid-day sun.
I cross my arms in front of me and cock an eyebrow. “Let me guess. Another surprise.”
“I’m full of them.”
“You’re full of something,” I crack, and we both laugh.
Well, I snort, and Shay stares at me with wide eyes as I clap a hand over my mouth.
“Classy.” He shakes his head at me, but his tone is joking. We walk toward the condo.
Not my most lady-like moment, I admit, but I can’t help it. When I find something hilarious, the snort just kinda happens.
Like when I watched the first two Hangover movies on DVD with some friends in the dorm and we had to keep rewinding to listen to parts we missed while I was laughing.
Snorting.
The third movie came out a couple months ago, but Bennie and Leesh refuse to go to the theater with me, saying they were not going to pay twelve bucks for a movie and miss half the dialog.
I’m on my own if I want to see any comedy in a theater.
Despite the burden he’s carrying, Shay shifts the bags all to one hand and slings his arm around my shoulder. I wind my arm around his lean waist, my fingers pressing into his side.
As I suspected, his obliques are tight. I bet he has a six pack too, with a soft, dark line of hair dipping into the waistband of his pants…
Hot flashes flare across my skin. Must be this ridiculous heat and humidity. Nothing else.
We get to the condo, and the ladies are out. Maybe down at the pool flirting with the guys staying next door to us. At least Bennie, on a “break” from her boyfriend again, is flirting. Leesh is still hung up on Dev. They were sweet together, and I’m sad he had to go home to London. She tries to hide her emotions, but Leesh’s heart is still breaking a few months since their formal split.
Shay sets the bags down and turns to me.
“Can I get a hint?” I clap my hands together and pretend to beg.
He shakes his head and chuckles, the low, deep sound in his throat making my stomach flop. “Bring the sunscreen and throw on your bathing suit.”
He leans down and presses his forehead to mine. His closeness—the scent of his sunscreen mingled with shaving cream—makes my brain go blank. Hoping he will kiss me, I close my eyes and lean into him.
“No. More. Hints.” His tone is firm and he pulls away laughing.
“Gahhhhhhh. You are no fun.”
“I’m a whole lot of fun when you get to know me.” He winks. The gesture is old-fashioned and endearing.
Yet another reason to like him.
“Hurry, though, or we’ll miss the boat,” he chides.
“Oooooh, another boat ride.”
I run and change into my one piece, throw on a sundress, slip on my shoes, and grab my floppy hat. Gotta protect the face from sun damage.
“Okay, all ready!” I sound excited, but I’m also nervous since I’m clueless about our destination. “What time will we be back?”
“By five thirty. Geesh, I’m sorry. It was rude of me not to ask if you have to be anywhere later. Does that give you enough time?”
We’re headed to Bennie’s grandmother’s this evening. She lives up on Big Pine Key, and Bennie begged us to go with her. She is not on the best of terms with her family, and she thinks having us with her will act as a buffer.
I do the math in my head, and figure I’ll be able to sneak in a quick shower and change of clothes. Hair up, a touch of make-up in the car, and I’ll be good to go.
I scrunch up my lips, pulling my mouth to the side as though still thinking. “Hmmm. I don’t know.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t go then…”
“No, I’m kidding. Let’s go.”
We leave the condo community and take Fleming to William Street, which leads to the marina. I hadn’t noticed the sign on the small kiosk last night: Kelly’s Key West Adventures.
“That’s cool your family runs this business.”
“Yeah. Da worked for one of these outfits for years, and then decided to start his own abo
ut six years ago. It hasn’t been easy, but business is better now. Come on.”
Shay takes my hand and leads me down to the end of the pier, toward a large, flat-top boat with multiple decks. It’s rather impressive. A large group of people are already aboard, and as we climb on, a tall black-haired man grabs Shay and puts him in a headlock.
“’Bout time ye got here, boy! Had to bribe this crowd with the promise of a round of drinks at Paddy’s afterward ta settle 'em down. Ye don’t think he’ll be mad, do ye?” This man had the same lilting brogue as Shay’s uncle, and I can tell where Shay gets his striking looks from.
“Oh my God, Da, give it a rest!” Shay’s face is bright red as he pulls away and smoothes down his mussed hair and clothes.
His dad turns to me and flashes a brilliant grin. “This must be the divine Thea I’ve heard about! I’m Ed, this scamp’s father.”
Shay flushes again at his father’s words.
“Nothing terrible, I hope.” My laugh is thin and high-pitched. I extend my hand, but Ed envelops me in a giant bear hug, almost squeezing the breath out of me before he lets go.
“Let’s get this party started, shall we?” Ed heads over to start up the boat.
I grab a seat with Shay in a shaded area, reach into my bag and pull out the sunblock. I slide the top of my sundress down, so I don’t get any of the lotion on the fabric. I squeeze a dollop into my palms and rub the white, coconut-scented cream onto my arms and face.
The hackles on the back of my neck stand up, and I shiver.
I turn, and Shay’s hazel eyes are transfixed on my hands sliding up and down my arms. Then his gaze falls to my chest.
I extend the bottle to him. “Wanna help?”
“What? Oh, yeah, sure.” He clears his throat. “Let me get your back.”
I turn to my right, offering him a better angle. I slide my sundress down to my waist.
My suit is square cut to the middle of my back, so I don’t need much lotion there, but Shay’s hands linger, massaging the cream into my shoulders and between my shoulder blades.
I tremble when he traces his fingers from the nape of my neck down my spine, and heat creeps up my face as I imagine those fingers and hands on the rest of my body.
“Scamp, huh? Cute name.” I bite my lip, suppressing a laugh.
“Funny. What about you? Everyone has a nickname. What’s yours?”
“My mama called my Gypsy. Blame it on the crazy costumes I used to put together as a kid.” I brush some tendrils of hair from my face. “This crazy mass of hair and my whimsical nature also contributed.”
“Gypsy.” He runs a finger across my jaw. “It suits you, wild thing.”
I shiver from his words and distracting touch.
I want this day never to end.
***
Shay
We leave the island behind and head out to deeper waters.
Some energetic, classic party music is pumping from the iPod dock, and the crowd is stoked for a fun time.
Da knows how to keep the customers happy, which always results in bigger tips for him and his crew.
Thea slips on her sunglasses, which, when combined with her floppy hat, makes her look like a gorgeous movie star trying to go incognito. There’s no disguising her beautiful face, though.
One of the crew members, Greg, brings over a couple beers in cans, hidden in Koozies, because none of the other passengers get the alcohol until we head back in. Drinking and snorkeling do not mix. I take a sip, and the cold brew slides down my throat. I’m so chill right now, like I don’t have the exorbitant price tag and high stress of medical school hanging over my head. In a few weeks, I’ll be packing up the hybrid and driving to school, picking up my old college roommate and best friend, Fred, in Miami along the way.
It’s cool he got into NCU medical school, too. He’s the best roommate, and sharing a place with him eliminates the stress of terrible roommates. I’d dealt with sinks full of dirty dishes, sweaty clothes piled in the bathroom, and overall loud and obnoxious behaviors with my brothers. I don’t want to go there again.
Joe takes over the wheel, and Da lumbers over. I have a sick feeling he’s going to embarrass me again.
“I don’t mind givin’ the lass a free ride, boy, but ye know ye gotta work for yours.”
I sigh.
“No problem, Da. Ready when you are.”
He slaps me on the shoulder, and walks away to socialize more with the paying passengers until we reach the reef.
“What’s that all about?” Her voice is laced with curiosity.
“I get to be demo-boy. No big deal.”
“Looking forward to it.” She smiles, and I melt.
I have to keep my eyes off her while I do the equipment demonstration, or I’ll screw the whole thing up.
She throws me all out of whack, but I kinda like it.
***
Thea
“I’ll be right back.” My eyelids flutter closed as he kisses my cheek before ducking below deck.
While he’s gone, I glance around at the other scantily-clad women on the boat. Some with small boobs, others average, and then a few like me.
With a rack that travels into the next zip code five minutes before the rest of the body catches up.
While this trip is supposed to take my mind off the journey that started last winter, the exposure to breasts all day every day has worn on my psyche. I wonder how many women thought I was flirting with them because I kept staring at their chests.
I’m cataloging the images so I can decide on a size and shape when I consult with the plastic surgeon.
A few minutes later, Shay emerges from below, and I’m not embarrassed to admit I need to pick my jaw up from the deck. While he’s wearing long board shorts, he’s now shirtless. My instincts were right.
The man has a killer bod.
Broad, well-muscled shoulders, but not too broad. That much I could discern through his clothes.
His corded biceps flex as he pushes himself up on the railing from the steps, and I swallow.
Good-googa-mooga.
His wide shoulders taper into a narrow waist. I’m not sure if that’s a six-pack, or eight. I’ll count later when he’s closer. Whatever the tally, I’m positive I’ll be able to bounce a quarter off those abs.
I’m not going to waste time doing that, though, with so many other more enjoyable activities I could do with a naked Shay.
I take a sip of beer and pull out my camera, pretending to take pictures of the sea and sky.
Shay just happens to stray into a few of the shots. The photos could go a long way in keeping a girl warm on a cold Carolina night in January.
Ed calls out, “Who’s snorkeling today?” I snap out of my daydream and pay attention as much as I can with the distraction of Shay just one thin garment shy of naked.
I went snorkeling once at Discovery Cove in Orlando, but that was over ten years ago and a refresher will help.
“Ladies and gents, please put any belongings you want to keep safe into the locker right over here.” He then points at Shay. “Now turn your attention to this strapping lad. Good looking boy, right?”
A woman at the end of the bench, who appears to be in her mid-thirties, whistles and calls out, “You got that right!”
She’s one of the ladies with a chest about as large as mine.
I’d never had the urge to punch anyone ever, until now. Which is crazy.
Ed laughs and says, “Must take after his father. That would be me!” This elicits hearty laughter from the passengers. “I’ll turn it over to him. Son.”
“For those of you who’ve never been snorkeling, the basics: these are the fins, this is the mask, and this is the snorkel.” Shay holds up each one to demonstrate.
“Fins are sized by your shoe size, so be sure to pick the right one.”
“Yours are pretty big. Is it true about guys with enormous feet?”
Grrrr.
That obnoxious woman is making me
see red.
Shay laughs but doesn’t respond. “To keep the mask from fogging up, you’ll need to do something kinda gross. When you’re out in the water and ready to go under, do this.”
He pretends to spit into his mask and rub the spit over the lens.
He slips on the mask and snorkel.
Ed continues, “Ye mostly want to keep the snorkel above the water line. But if ye do go under, don’t breathe in, or ye’ll end up with a mouthful of seawater, and whatever else the folks I brought out earlier left behind.”
The collective response from the passengers varies from “ewwwwww” to knowing laughs, because almost everyone here has likely peed in the ocean before, or worse.
“Okay everyone, gather round and gear up.” Shay slips his mask off and helps some of the passengers get their masks and air tubes set.
One person in particular seems to require a lot of attention. The whistler.
Ugh.
Once she finishes rubbing herself on Shay at every possible opportunity while he helps her, I saunter over and bat my eyelashes, rubbing his shoulder and cooing, “Excuse me, hot young man, but I can’t seem to get this strappy-thingy on my mask adjusted. Can you pleeeeaaase help me?”
One side of his mouth quirks up in a half-smile.
“Huh. That’s what I need in my life. Another smart-mouth, because a family full of 'em isn’t enough.” He snatches my mask in mock anger, and I continue to flutter my eyelashes and giggle as I throw my head back.
Shay’s checking me out again and his eyes keep returning to my torso.
He blinks, as though in awe.
They are impressive, so it’s a natural response.
Like last night, I pull my shoulders back to make my boobs stand out more, and sweat beads his forehead and upper lip.
I let him look his fill. Once he finishes, he grabs the underwater camera to take out with us, because I forgot my own waterproof camera case.
We gear up and descend the ladder into the warm, blue-green waters.
Goodbye to You Page 4
