Hidden Under Her Heart

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Hidden Under Her Heart Page 5

by Rachelle Ayala


  Maryanne held her breath and waited. Nothing. He exhaled, as if making himself comfortable or saying his prayers. How could he ignore her after that hot kiss? Maybe he was the right type of man, the one she’d been waiting for.

  She touched him. “Good night, Lucas.”

  “Mmm… good night.” His voice was muffled, raspy.

  “I had a wonderful time.” She felt safe and respected. “Do you come here a lot?”

  “Sometimes, to get away. It’s quiet here, lonely. All you hear is the surf, and the sky’s so dark.”

  “Hard to believe seven million people live right over the hills. Do you like being alone?”

  “I like having you with me.”

  “I like being with you too.” She feathered her fingers over his shoulders.

  He caught her hand. “Better stop that or I won’t be able to control myself.”

  “I affect you?” She pressed against him and nudged his forehead with hers.

  “You make it very difficult not to.” His minty breath fanned her face, his voice deep and husky.

  “Why are we only friends?” She shouldn’t push and risk breaking her vow.

  “I’m attracted to you, but I can’t handle the drama that comes with being more. I have to focus on my goals.”

  The wind moaned and the surf crashed. Maryanne couldn’t find any words. He’d been honest. And she should be satisfied with his friendship and the special place she had, coming to this private hideaway with him and sharing his love of nature. A part of her heart ripped, but the other part pulsed and swelled. In many ways, he was too good for her, kind and pure, sweet and undemanding. He was right. Life with her was a sad and oftentimes traumatic rollercoaster. Her track record was the pits. She refused to think about John, and Rick, and Al, and Vincent, and Terence, going all the way back to Barry. She squeezed her eyes. Her first one had devastated her, ruined her, and left her a worthless shell—Barry who thought law school was more important than the life she was carrying.

  “What are you thinking?” A hand brushed her cheek.

  “That you probably think I’m a slut, pushing myself on you.”

  “No, no, no. You’re not like that at all. I respect you.”

  “Most men don’t.” A lump rose in her throat. “They always looked at what they could get out of me, and when they’re tired of me, they toss me aside.”

  “They’re stupid. You deserve someone who cares about you no matter what happens.”

  “You mean that?”

  “Yes, someone who loves you whether you’re sad, glad, or have a bad hair day.”

  How did he know? Maybe that’s what he wanted. To be accepted unconditionally.

  She sighed. “I always figured if I gave more than I took in a relationship, they’d love me more. But I end up feeling used.”

  He moved his hand down her shoulder and found her hand. “Working with special children, you see them as worth loving because they are—not what they can do for you.”

  “That’s why you’re different. I wish we could be more than friends.”

  “Me too.” He snuggled up to her and rolled her, sleeping bag and all, into his arms. “Get some sleep.”

  The rhythmic pounding of the surf echoed her wishful heartbeat, wild and lonely as the weeping tree of Andorra.

  Chapter 6

  The morning sunlight filtered through the tent. Maryanne stretched and rubbed her eyes. A rolling snore purred next to her. Lucas’ scent mixed with Old Spice calmed and excited her. She arranged her head on the pillow. Just a bit longer before she had to get up.

  Lucas’ face exhibited a day’s growth of beard. Interesting how his beard was reddish brown, but his hair curled dark brown. Eyebrows and eyelashes were thick and lush, also dark brown. His nose flared at just the right angle, and his lips combined a rakish upper curl with a luscious lower lip. The top part of his chest lay exposed, tempting her to touch.

  He was right to remain just friends. His priorities were obvious. His triathlon training took precedence over relationships, but he would never be as nasty as Barry had been when he’d sneeringly offered her cash to never bother him again. Somehow, no matter what, Lucas would be friendly, and still care.

  Lucas’ sea-green eyes opened, and a smile brightened his face. “I could get used to waking up with you. Did you sleep well?”

  Being around him was reward enough. She wouldn’t ruin their friendship by wanting more. She scanned the rumpled blanket and smushed-up sleeping bag. “Were you warm enough?”

  “Brrr…” He clutched his bare arms. “You left me cold and naked while you hogged the sleeping bag.”

  “I would have shared if you were fully clothed.” She sat and pushed her hair from her face. “I need to go to the outhouses. Is there a shower anywhere?”

  “Shower? Who needs a shower when the ocean’s right there?” Lucas pulled on a sweatshirt and swept out of the blanket. He had on sweatpants the entire time. “Race you!”

  He unzipped the tent and crawled out. Maryanne put on her hoodie and jogging shoes. “I need to brush my teeth. Is there running water?”

  “I have a water jug. But first, the outhouses.”

  They jogged in the sand, and by the time they reached the outhouses, Maryanne was fit to die. She had to take two steps for every one of his, not to add that sinking into the sand made for hard going.

  Lucas gave her hand cleaner after she finished. “Let’s walk along the water’s edge before heading back.”

  The sand was wet and foamy, littered by dark green strands of seaweed. A seagull cried and dipped over a set of exposed rocks, and the surf splashed over them leaving a slippery surface pockmarked by cups and bowls of water.

  “Oh, look, tide pools.” Maryanne headed toward the wet rocks. A sandy area, like a child’s wading pool was left in the middle of a rectangular ledge. Maryanne waited for the waves to recede and ran across a sandbar. She followed a miniature crab over a ridge and peered into its hollow. Tiny fish darted in a shallow pool.

  “Watch out!” Lucas shouted, pointing over Maryanne’s shoulder.

  A giant swell of water rose behind her. She lunged toward the sandbar and grabbed wildly for Lucas’ outstretched hand. Cold water slammed over her head. She lost her footing, and the wave shoved her down. Bubbles, black and white, exploded around her.

  ~~~

  Lucas caught ahold of Maryanne’s sweatshirt and flattened her in the shallow pool underneath him as the surf thundered over them. Chilled water and foam crashed overhead. He held on until the water rolled back. They hadn’t much time before the next wave would hit. He scooped her into his arms and jumped over the ridge of rocks away from the receding tide.

  He laid her down on a sand dune. Her hair was plastered over her face, and she moaned, holding onto the right side of her head.

  “You okay?” Lucas swept her hair back. “Did you hit your head?”

  She blinked and rattled her head, her teeth chattering. “I-I thought I fell into the water.”

  “Almost, but I grabbed your hoodie. Are you hurt?”

  Maryanne patted her body and sat up. “No, considering you tackled me, I think I’m fine.”

  “Well, it was either that or watch the wave roll you into the sea.” He pulled her up. “We’re both soaked. Looks like you got the shower you wanted.”

  He wiggled her cheek to get her to smile.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and burrowed her face into his chest. “You saved my life. I can’t swim.”

  “Then you need to learn. I can teach you.” Lucas picked Maryanne up and cradled her in his arms. A jolt pulsed through his heart. That had been too close. He could have lost her today.

  “Let me down. I can walk,” she chirped.

  “What? And not let me play the hero?”

  A smile brightened her face. “You are my hero. When I think how you do those triathlons, swim in the ocean, bike hundreds of miles and run a marathon, I can’t even imagine it. Must take real dedicat
ion.”

  “Or I’m a masochist and love to suffer.” He made his way over the dunes toward the tent. “At the end of the marathon, it’s about who wants it more and who can suffer longer.”

  “I started reading triathlon magazines after finding out about you.” She stroked his left wrist. “You almost made the Olympic team. Must have been a tough break.”

  “It was. I tangled with another cyclist speeding downhill around a hairpin turn. I tried to compete with it broken, but it was too painful and I didn’t qualify for the team.”

  “You’ll just have to try again.” She sounded confident in him.

  He set her down in front of the tent. “My family thinks triathlon is a waste of time. That I should settle down and get a real job.”

  She took his hand and cuddled against him. “I admire you for going after your dreams. Nothing’s ever accomplished by settling down.”

  The kiss came naturally. She understood him, accepted him, and admired him. He let go reluctantly. “Change into something dry and I’ll be right back.”

  Lucas jogged back to his car and put on a pair of cargo shorts and a t-shirt. When he returned, Maryanne was sitting on a towel in a white bikini, finger-combing her hair. She stood and came toward him, holding out her arms for a hug. He paused to calm his pounding heart. Her body was perfect. Pert, cup-shaped breasts, a flat stomach and curvy hips, an hourglass shape.

  Her skin was hot, and she’d put on perfume, bright, sunshiny, and citrus. The urge to touch, stroke and caress her was overwhelming, but he backed away and held out his hand. “Ready for one last walk on the beach?”

  The sun broke through the morning fog, shining lambent and soft. Lacy foam trailed over the damp sand. The water seemed calmer, inviting, not quite as boisterous.

  Maryanne slipped on her flip-flops and took his hand. “It’s really peaceful out here. Thanks for bringing me.”

  “I enjoyed having you too. Come on, let’s walk over to that bluff. It’s high above the tides. I promise you won’t get swept away.”

  “By the tide or by you?” She leaned close to him, but he bent down and scooped her into his arms. She’d already swept his heart away. It couldn’t even hold a steady beat with her around.

  He nuzzled the side of her face and kissed her. There was no place in the world he wanted to be but at her side. She wouldn’t take away his dreams and tell him to get a real job. She only wanted love, and he, Lucas Knight, could give it to her unconditionally.

  His breath quickened as he lengthened his stride and ascended the bluff. The wind whipped sand in his face and sprayed salt in his mouth. His thigh muscles burned, but his chest expanded. He placed her on the highest rock.

  “That was some climb. You’re not even winded.” Her gaze fell below his waist, and she giggled. “What are those lumps in your pants? Most men only have one.”

  He clapped his hands over the bulging pockets. “Oh, these?”

  “What are you hiding?” she said in a lilting, teasing voice.

  “Remember the glassmaking class we had?” He pulled out the glass pumpkin and held it in front of her.

  “My pumpkin?”

  “Yes, it turned out so beautiful, as emerald as the sea. Here.”

  “I love it.” She took it from him. The glass sparkled in the sunlight, green with specks of gold.

  Lucas’ heartbeat accelerated. Her pumpkin did look better than the heart he made. Would she accept it as a gift?

  “What about your heart?” She tapped his arm. “Can I see it?”

  “You’ll have to cut it out.” He clapped his chest. “And it’s already yours.”

  She held his gaze, her big brown eyes shining. “You really mean it?”

  “Yes…” He kissed the pulse point at her wrist and rubbed her fingers on his cheek. “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

  “Oh, Lucas.” She inhaled sharply, but didn’t pull her hand away. “I thought—”

  “I promise I won’t hurt you like those other guys, and we don’t have to sleep together. I want to make you happy.”

  After all, he didn’t want to pressure her into breaking her vow. He’d show her how different he was. How he’d cherish her and make her feel special.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, still holding onto her pumpkin. “You’re so sweet, Lucas Knight. I’d love to be your girlfriend, and I’ll take that heart of yours, all of it.”

  Chapter 7

  Maryanne admired Lucas’ glass heart. The red and purple swirled in wisps and combined with white to create a kaleidoscope of colors. How did he know not to pressure her for sex? It wasn’t like she wanted to win the bet as much as to regain her self-esteem. The last breakup over vomiting in a car had shown her how little she’d been valued.

  Lucas packed the tent and slammed the tailgate of his Outback. He started the car and lowered the windows. “I love the ocean breeze, don’t you?”

  “I love everything about this trip. I’m glad I came.” Maryanne settled back in the bucket seat.

  They drove into town and pulled into a gas station. While Lucas pumped gas, Maryanne tucked her glass heart in the glove compartment and copied his address from the registration tag to her phone. She’d wrap her pumpkin and deliver it with a tin of cookies. She flipped down the vanity mirror. No makeup and her hair resembled a tangle of seagrass, but she couldn’t stop smiling. She was in a relationship with the perfect man. Fun, lovable, and exciting.

  If he made the Olympic team, she’d get to travel with him to Rio and cheer him on. Suddenly she wished she didn’t have an electric car with its limited range of sixty miles. She wanted to be his support team, drive his gear and his bike, and be the first to hug him when he crossed the finish line. Being a nurse could be handy too. She’d have an EpiPen ready and save his life if he ever got stung by a bee.

  Lucas closed the gas tank lid and stepped into the car. “How’s my best girl?”

  She kissed him. It was so easy now. “I’m so happy.”

  “You doing anything the rest of the day?”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “You know Zach, my training partner? We’re going for a run this afternoon, and after that I was going to a church picnic with the young adult fellowship.”

  “You go to church?” She’d been avoiding church functions since Vera dragged her to one a few months ago. Too many plastic looking people with that Christian gleam. Perfect lives and perfect teeth.

  He started the engine and pulled out of the station. “Would you like to come with me? You don’t have to, if it’s not your thing.”

  “I’d love to.” With Lucas, she’d go anywhere.

  ~~~

  Maryanne opened the door to her apartment and glanced at her cell phone. “It’s almost time for lunch. I can take a quick shower and meet you at your place?”

  “Actually, I’m busy the next few hours.”

  There she went again, being too clingy. Vera said men were like bars of soap. Squeeze too hard, and they slip away. She took her bag from him and backed into her apartment. “Oh, that’s right, you’re going for a run.”

  “That’s later in the afternoon. I uh… already have plans for lunch.” He wiped the back of his neck and gave her an apologetic look.

  “Anyone I know?”

  “Nah, I’ll call you later.” He kissed her lips and jogged down the stairs, whistling.

  Maryanne tamped down the embryonic worm of jealousy. She had been told by ex-boyfriends that her possessiveness drove them away. Of course, Lucas had a life before meeting her. It was probably his training partner or maybe one of his special-ed kids.

  She slumped the duffle bag onto her bed; the ache of loneliness gnawed in her stomach. Damn! If she didn’t watch it, she’d choke this relationship before it budded. She took deep breaths. Guys didn’t like to be smothered. She counted to ten. She missed him already and wanted to hear his voice.

  Better get busy. She sorted through her clothes and put the dirty ones in the wash, a
nd unpacked her toiletries and accessories. The pumpkin was wrapped inside a towel. Wait! She’d left her glass heart in his glove compartment. Now, she had an excuse to call him.

  Maryanne entered the number to Lucas’ cell. He picked it up on the second ring.

  “Hey, Lucas? It’s me.”

  “Who’re you?” A woman’s annoyed voice fried to the roots of her hair.

  “Ummm. I must have hit the wrong number.”

  “Sure you did.” The call ended.

  Maryanne tried again. This time it went to voice mail. She was about to leave a message when his number popped up on the display. Maryanne switched over.

  The same woman said, “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m Maryanne. Who are you?”

  “Sandra.”

  Maryanne’s heart jolted and she hung up. Sandra? Would she be the woman he was having lunch with?

  That did it. A grinding feeling descended to the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t going to put up with another cheater. She grabbed her car keys and ran down the stairs. After punching Lucas’ address into her GPS, she drove the twelve miles to his building and checked the directory. Fortunately, she didn’t have to be buzzed in the gate. She stalked up the outdoor stairs and tiptoed down the landing.

  Lucas’ apartment window was wide open. Maryanne pressed herself against the wall and peeked in. A black woman in rollers, wearing fluffy pink bunny slippers and a robe danced with her iPod.

  “Hey, Sandra, get in the shower. We’re going to be late.” Lucas came down the hall with a towel around his waist.

  Maryanne’s knees turned to jelly, and her back slid down the stucco. No wonder he had such great control. He had a woman living with him, satisfying his sexual needs. And all this time she thought him a saint, a sweetheart, a knight in shining armor. Maryanne squeezed her fist and punched her thigh. The only idiot around was her.

  ~~~

  Lucas sat across the table from his sister in a hot and stifling restaurant booth. Pastor Stone of Morning Star Baptist Church expounded on the gospel with Sandra. How many times had she heard the plan of salvation? If Sandra didn’t want to accept, pounding her with the Bible would only make it worse. But he owed his mother a report that he had tried.

 

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