Fearsome

by S. A. Wolfe

  I laugh. The music volume suddenly goes down and we both laugh again.

  “Guess we were rocking the house,” he says.

  “Carson,” I say softly.

  “What?” He plants another kiss on my neck.

  “Thank you for not hating me. I can’t bear the thought of you hating me.”

  He holds my chin and directs it slowly towards his face. I have to turn my whole body towards him to see his blue eyes that exude warmth for me, creating a tight spasm in my heart. “I could never hate you,” he says.

  My head rests on his bicep as I trace the outline of his jaw. He closes his eyes and then inhales and exhales slowly.

  “Carson, I know Aunt Ginnie had some photos of me from school. I think she had some from the conferences I spoke at. There was one I did on computer analysis, if I recall.” I pretend not to remember the name.

  “It was a symposium on software testing and analysis. You were the third presenter that day,” he rattles this off with his eyes closed, enjoying my light touch.

  He remembers every detail; the titles of the conferences don’t fluster him in the least. He must have been paying very close attention when he was stalking me. The thought of Carson navigating the conferences then sitting and listening to the dry material is more than thrilling, knowing he was near me.

  “Yeah, that was it. And then I had a bigger one on numerical computations.”

  Carson jumps right in, not aware that I’m testing him. “That was the conference on computational methods and function theory. You gave a talk on theory and algorithms,” he says matter-of-factly. “You were very good, professional and entertaining at the same time.”

  “Carson?”

  “Yes?” He opens his eyes and looks at me.

  “What was my Master’s in?”

  “Science. You specialized in computation for design and optimization.”

  I smile. “And how do you know so much?”

  “Oh.” It finally hits him. “You know.”

  “That there was no detective? I can’t believe I fell for that malarkey.”

  “Dylan told you?”

  “Right before he left town, he told me. I had no idea you knew so much about me and shadowed me through school.”

  “It started as a favor to your aunt. I was going into the city on business and she mentioned you were graduating. I didn’t ask how she got her information. I suppose through old friends of hers in the city. I didn’t think anything of it. You were a kid. Fourteen? Almost fifteen? I got some shots of you outside the high school and it made Gin really happy.”

  “How did you recognize me?”

  “Your long, red hair, big brown eyes and you looked like you could boss any guy around.”

  I laugh. “I grew out of the bossy phase when I became the youngest person in every school I attended. I became timid.”

  “No matter. I found you.”

  “And the other photos in college?”

  “It was easy at Columbia because I was enrolled part-time, so I found some of your information. I knew where you lived and I sat in some of your classes—the big lectures—and nabbed some photos on my phone. It was harder to keep tabs on you at M.I.T., though. But when I saw you…”

  “What? When did you see me?”

  “You were eighteen. I sat in the different conferences they had your last year of graduate school. I checked agendas to see where you were speaking. By then I could get partial videos for Gin and some very good shots. You were—”

  “I was what?”

  “Fearsome, beautiful, and so fucking smart. You took my sanity away. And then, after graduation, you turned nineteen and went to work for 5 Alpha. I have a huge client in the Village so I actually passed you a few times on the street near your apartment.”

  “I can’t believe you recognized me. There are beautiful women all over New York. Those fucking Amazonian models on every goddamn street corner who make people like me look like shlubs.”

  “No, you are beautiful. I couldn’t miss you. That’s about the time when I started falling for you.”

  “You didn’t know me.”

  “I knew your voice. I also knew it was at least two octaves higher when you talked to your girlfriends about tacos or shoes.”

  I start laughing and slap him on the shoulder.

  “No, really. Your voice was deeper when you were giving lectures and you’d wear glasses and put your hair up to look older. You really were a fearsome creature. You spoke with so much confidence and you were graceful and poised; I was blown away by your maturity and intelligence. That’s how I started thinking about you. It was about the time Gin was diagnosed and she wanted to plan what to do with the house. She didn’t think you’d want it, but I probably pushed her more than anyone else to give you the house instead of the proceeds from a sale. I wanted you here and Gin agreed that a home with a solid community would be good for you since you didn’t have the happiest family situation growing up.”

  “Like you, right?”

  “Yeah,” he says and kisses my forehead. “I thought we could both use something better and it seemed like the ideal opportunity for you to come here and experience something other than dance clubs and fine dining in the greatest city in the world. Hera has sushi you know.”

  We both laugh. “Thanks.” I kiss his neck and inhale his manly, musky scent of sweat.

  “You can text me anytime for this,” he jokes, but this isn’t just sex for him. He’s already revealed so much about himself and how he feels about me. My insides are like jelly, I am turning into a big pile of mush around him.

  “No, I was thanking you for this home, helping my aunt and finding out who I am. Thank you. I’m not sure I deserve this.”

  “We both deserve this.”

  I snuggle against him and he holds me tightly. I feel safe asking him anything.

  “Okay, maybe you never mentioned this to me because it’s not something you like to talk about, but why didn’t you mention you were adopted?”

  Carson is quiet and then focuses intently on me. “Does it matter?”

  “That you’re adopted doesn’t matter. It’s that you chose to omit it from any of our conversations that’s strange. You even alluded to a genetic predisposition to mental illness, but you’re not biologically related to Dylan.”

  “He’s my only family regardless of what circumstances brought us together. Just like your parents are your family and someday you’ll see that you want them in your life. I want to have a family even if Dylan is the only member I ever have. Family is everything. But I hope my family grows. I want Dylan and myself to have more than this. It’s one of the reasons why I supported the idea of you taking over Gin’s home. I wanted you near me. I did everything for my own selfish reasons.”

  Finally, the knot in my chest loosens and I exhale. Carson keeps giving me more reasons to love him and it’s beginning to seem incredibly easy.

  “Will you tell me about your family?” I ask.

  “The only parents I remember are Abby and Robert Blackard. I remember the day they drove me to their home. I remember how the car smelled. My dad was driving and my mom was sitting next to me explaining that they were my parents now. She made me feel safe. It was a good feeling.”

  “She was very caring, like you. She gave you the beautiful name, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, she told me it was so I could start over.”

  I kiss his cheek and run my fingers along his jaw. Carson closes his eyes as I touch him.

  “I thought my new parents were pretty great,” he says, looking at me again. “I had my own room with a lot of toys, but it didn’t last long. Soon there was a crib and then a crying baby. Dylan. I thought he was pretty great, too. I liked having a little brother. We had about five years of being a perfect family. We loved each other and my parents never fought. It was good and it was safe. Then my mom got sick and my dad fell into a bad depression. You know the rest of that story. It’s those five great years that I try to
remember more than the bad stuff that came later. We lost the house because of the medical bills. Then, when my mom died, we moved to a rental in a run-down trailer park. That’s when everything went to shit.”

  “I sound petty when I complain about my parents,” I whisper “It makes me sad to think of you and Dylan as young boys, struggling to survive all that pain. I don’t know how people overcome that.”

  “I figured out what was important and put everything into that. It came down to Dylan and making a living. If you have someone you care about, you figure out a way to make it happen.”

  “Your dad couldn’t do that. I don’t know if I’d be strong enough to do it, either.”

  “Like I said, you figure out what’s important and you do it.”

  “Carson, you’re fearsome.”

  “Why do you think I’m here?” he asks and kisses me thoroughly before I can say anything.

  Forty

  When we open the door to the library, Lauren is leaning her hip against the second floor railing with her arms crossed, looking expectantly at us. I’m a little uncomfortable with her scrutinizing expression, but Carson is unfazed.

  “Hello, Carson,” she says.

  “Lauren,” he replies.

  “Imogene is cooking a scrumptious stew for dinner and wants to know if you’d like to join us?”

  Carson looks at me.

  “Please?” I ask.

  “Absolutely,” he says to me and then turns to Lauren. “Tell Imogene I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Very good.” Lauren smirks at me before turning on her heel to run downstairs.

  “Let’s go freshen up.” I take him by the hand and lead him up to the third floor. When we enter my bedroom I see him look at the bed with a grin. “No. No bed. Shower, and don’t get any ideas.”

  “You first. I want to get something for you,” Carson says.

  I shrug and take a scalding hot shower, but leave my hair in a ponytail so when I step out of the water it curls up around my head. I wrap a towel around me and go back into my bedroom. Carson is sitting on the bed with only his jeans on, rifling through boxes of photos and discs. He’s not wearing a shirt and his bare feet are crossed at the ankle. It’s a rare vision where he looks vulnerable, as though he’s let a wall down and I’m seeing the real man who is willing to do anything for me.

  “What ya got there?” I ask.

  “The photos I took of you for Gin. These were in a box in her closet. You must have missed them when Lois was going through the closets with you. The discs are videos of your conferences or whatever I could capture on my phone. Not the best quality, but some are pretty good.”

  “Lois must have decided not tell me about them.” I walk over to the bed and lift up one of the photos. It’s a close-up of my roommate Marissa and me. My head is thrown back and I’m laughing exuberantly. I recognize a store window behind my head.

  “This is on Bleeker Street,” I say as if that matters.

  Carson nods. “That’s one of my favorites. I have a copy of that one, too.”

  “You do?” I look more closely at the photo and notice part of someone else in the foreground, someone with red hair. A woman. “How did you take this photo so close to me without me noticing? It looks like you were taking a photo of someone else, but moved the camera slightly to the left of that person to capture me.”

  Carson looks at the photo, yet doesn’t elaborate.

  “Carson, you were with a woman here. She thought you were taking her photo, right? But you were really taking a photo of me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who was the woman? I see she has red hair. It’s Gemma, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it is.” Carson’s good mood disappears as soon as I say her name.

  “Was she your girlfriend?” I have a million questions and I feel myself about to hyperventilate if I don’t slow down.

  “No. I dated her a few years ago.”

  “She’s the one everyone jokes about you seeing in the city, the mystery girlfriend. Oh God. And now she works with you.”

  “That’s not how it is, Jess.”

  “Did you sleep with her? I know I probably don’t have a right to ask these kinds of questions since I dated your brother, but fuck if this doesn’t piss me off.” I start crying.

  “Jess, I went out with her a few times, but we weren’t serious. Ever.”

  “Did you sleep with her?”

  “Yes. Once. When I was in the city. Not at my house and it’s been two years.”

  “Who was the woman who you met at Mohonk for a date, the night of the storm?”

  Carson stands up to hold me.

  “No, Carson. Was it Gemma? Is that who you met?”

  “Yes. Okay? Yes, I met her for dinner and then I left her so I could be with you.”

  “Were you two trying to make it work again? Were you planning on sleeping with her?”

  “No.” Carson’s steely eyes look at me. “She may have wanted more, but I told her I wasn’t interested so we talked about business. That’s all that happened.”

  Everything about him seems sincere and I want to believe him, but I’ve never felt I could be a match for someone like Gemma or most women.

  “I didn’t sleep with her because I’m in love with you. The only reason I met her for dinner was because, maybe I was lonely, but I wasn’t going to sleep with her. I thought I could pass the time talking about business. At that point I was willing to try anything to get my mind off you.”

  “But then you hired her. Why her?”

  “She’s a good designer and has a good reputation in the business. She’s an asset to the company. Jess, she lives in the city and only works from our shop two days a week. The rest of the time she works from the city and, when she is here, I don’t spend that much time with her. She works with everyone in the shop. I’m not interested in Gemma, other than her business knowledge.”

  “But the way she looked at me at your shop. I get it now. She was checking me out like I’m the competition.”

  “No, that’s when she realized you’re the one I’m interested in. You’re the mystery woman, at least to my business colleagues and associates. When I walked you around the shop, everyone got that.”

  “But she was all over you at the party. You didn’t see the way she was looking at you.”

  Carson scoffs and smiles. “Jess, you’re jealous. I like that. But you’re also wrong. We were talking about business at the party.”

  “I am jealous.”

  “You don’t need to be. I’m only interested in you. Besides, if it makes you feel any better, I think Gemma has been dating someone for the last two months. I think she’s serious about him so she doesn’t have any interest in me.”

  “You men are so stupid when it comes to women,” I mutter.

  Carson’s mouth curves and I think he wants to laugh. “Do you want me to fire her? Should I tell her I’m in love with a woman who doesn’t want to be my girlfriend, but she’s also jealous of any woman who comes near me? I’ll certainly do that for you if it will put your mind at ease.”

  “No, that’s ridiculous and it makes me sound like a moron.” I push him back on the bed and he laughs. “So, you have all these photos, too?”

  Carson picks up the photos again and rests his hands, clenching a stack of them on his leg while he looks at me with amusement. “Yes. I gave Gin the copies. I kept all the originals.”

  “What did you do with them?”

  “They’re on a memory card and I have a shoe box like this with hard copies, but mine are probably more worn out than Gin’s. I looked at them a lot, and then, you moved here so I got to see the real thing.”

  I rifle through more photos of myself as I stand in front of him and blush. “Do you remember much about me when I was a kid?”

  Carson sighs and smiles. “I remember everything. I was eleven. You used to bust my balls over everything. ‘Carson, this sandwich has too much peanut butter. Carson, fill the baby pool with more wa
ter. Carson, get out of the pool, your weight displaces too much water! Carson, you’re a meanie! Carson, I’ll marry you if you buy me a red convertible!’”

  I am laughing so hard at his impression of a little girl, I think I’ll pee my pants. “I didn’t really say those things.” Although, I know without a doubt I did.

  “Yes, you did. You said it so often I couldn’t possibly forget. Gin and your mom gave you a party for your sixth birthday. I got to light the candles on your cake and you actually said, ‘Carson, you have to give me a kiss for each candle. That’s six, in case you didn’t know.’”

  “I did not say that, Carson. You made that one up.”

  “Scouts honor.”

  “You were never a Boy Scout.”

  “Okay, but it’s the truth.”

  “So did you give me my six kisses?”

  “Yes, I did. On the cheek. Your lips were full of blue frosting.”

  “That’s funny. You must have hated me then.”

  “You drove me insane, but I thought you were pretty cute.”

  “Like a little sister?”

  “No, I never thought of you as my sister, I told you that before. It was more like you were the girl who would grow up to be my impossible boss someday. You’d be the CEO,” he says and slaps my rear end.

  “That’s cute.” I smile because his grin fills me up with so much promise.

  “Can I buy you a red convertible?”

  I let out a little gasp at the meaning behind his question and quickly dismiss it. “It’s your turn. Get in the shower.”

  While Carson takes a quick shower, I put on a fresh pair of skinny jeans and a flattering black sweater that hugs my slender frame while it also makes me look more curvy and busty than I am. I take out the ponytail holder, fix my hair and brush on a little mascara and lip gloss. I study myself in the dresser mirror and think I look infinitely better than when Carson arrived to see me in my working duds.

  When he comes out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, he takes one look at my transformation, strides towards me and plants a leisurely kiss on my mouth.

  “No, no.” I push his hands away. I can already see myself as one of those women who have no self-control and drops everything for her irresistible man. I want to get naked again and have him all over my body, which is why we have to get out of my bedroom.