As I looked up, Alec took his shirt off. Holy mother of god. I tried to avert my eyes. The smell of the room, and Alec standing there shirtless was almost too much to take. I almost swooned. Like, literally, swooned and fainted. I clutched the doorframe as he turned around and walked into his closet. His back was broad and tanned, and it was very muscular. I imagined working with the horses everyday was very active. He turned back around with a new white shirt, and I looked down. I didn’t want him to catch me looking.
"You have a nice room," I said quietly. My voice came out mouse-like and meek.
"It does the trick."
I dared to look up again, and my heart stopped as I realized he was staring at me, looking at me from head to toe. I guess he hadn’t gotten a good look before in the dark kitchen or hallway. He kept eye contact while he buttoned his shirt up, which was some sort of cruel, sick joke in my eyes. It should be the other way around – he should be unbuttoning it. I looked down. I had to. This was driving me crazy. So what, he had a nice body. I could admire that as a friend. It was like the times I went to the beach with Amara and admired her perfect, tanned, svelte Portuguese body. Except that I didn’t want to jump on Amara and have sex with her on this bed, in this room.
What was wrong with me? As Alec finished buttoning up his sleeves, I kept looking at my feet because my cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. Sure, he was good-looking. I’d give him that. But I was married. I mean, Harry had technically left me, and I was as good as single I guess. Especially after Harry’s last email. But… it had happened a month ago. Thirty-one days ago, I was making love to my husband. We were still together on paper. Just three months ago, we’d toured a baby store, hoping that we would be back in a few months to stock up for the baby we were trying for. And here I was, imagining having sex with a man I’d met only a month ago, in a foreign country. Alec walked past me, turning the light off. I stepped out after him, and he put a hand on the small of my back as he led the way. I felt him lean down and whisper in my ear.
"You look stunning tonight, Charlotte."
I could have dropped my underwear right then and there.
***
We walked along the driveway to Alec’s car, close and yet not close enough. His aftershave or cologne smelled so good. I realized that’s what I had smelled in the room before.
"You smell nice," I stated. "What is that, cologne?"
"I’m not wearing anything," he explained.
"Really?"
"Really."
"Oh. Well, then your natural scent smells nice."
"Thank you."
We walked in silence as I tried to navigate my way through the gravel in heels. I hated heels… I only wore them when I wanted to dress up, but even that was almost too much. When we got to the car, Alec opened my door for me and got in on the driver’s side. I instinctively scooted close to him, like last time, and then realized no one else would be joining us, so I didn’t have to scoot so close. He didn’t say anything though, so I stayed put. He started the car and shifted into reverse. He put his arm up behind me as he backed down the long driveway, his face tilted towards me. It was inches from mine. It took everything I had in me to keep looking forward.
"So, how is the job going?" he asked as he flipped around and drove onto the main road.
"Good so far. I really like it. I like doing something I believe in, you know? It’s easier to do PR for a cause you can get behind."
"I get it."
"Look… I’m sorry for that time in Swansea, when I brought up your father. I didn’t mean to upset you."
"You didn’t upset me. It’s just hard to talk about him."
"I understand."
"It’s… a long story."
"Well, how long do we have to drive?"
"Ten minutes. Why?"
"You better start talking."
He smiled.
"OK. But… like you said to me that day in Swansea, promise not to judge me."
I couldn’t get enough of his accent. I’d forgotten how velvety his voice was. He never talked enough for me to fully appreciate it, and I realized he would be talking the entire way to the party. I poised myself. I was ready to listen. I wanted to listen. I felt the same way I’d felt days earlier with Mary. I wanted to savor every one of his words.
"I won’t judge you," I said, looking at him. He looked back at me. There was something there, between us, again. Trust? Understanding? Whatever it was, he seemed to calm down instantly. His shoulders slumped and he put an arm behind me on the seat.
"I’ll give you some background information first. I was born and raised near Belfast, in a wealthy suburb. My mother and father were in politics, and, as you probably know, the Northern Ireland Conflict, or what we Irish call 'The Troubles', was in full swing until I was about fifteen. You’re probably familiar with it, but basically it was a conflict between the north and south having to do with religious discrimination and the status of Northern Ireland within the United Kingdom. So, my mum and pop were involved in Northern Irish politics. They were there when Ireland signed the Belfast Agreement, or what we call the 'Good Friday Agreement'. Anyways, having grown up with such unease made me want to explore other parts of the world. I decided to graduate secondary school early and take a year off, when I was sixteen."
"I ended up in rural Scotland, way up north in the Shetland Islands. I was backpacking, and I took up at a farm for a few days to get my bearings. I ended up staying for a year, learning everything I could about horses and farm animals. I decided to enroll in the University of Edinburgh. I studied Veterinary Studies, focusing mostly on farm animals such as horses, pigs, cows, and the like. I did a five-year program and got my Masters. I finished when I was 22. I went home and saw my parents for the first time in six years."
"It was amazing. My father and I got along as well as a father and son could get along. He became my best friend, and I was sad that I had missed out on so much of our relationship because I was away from home for so long. My dad and I were driving to the market one day, a few months after I’d arrived back home. I was driving our family car, and… another car came out of nowhere, hitting us head on. Our car flipped four times. My dad was killed on impact, and I walked away without a scratch."
"Oh, Alec, I’m so sorry. That’s terrible," I whispered quietly.
What an awful thing to happen to a 22-year-old. It was starting to make sense. His tough exterior, his hot and cold behavior: he obviously had unresolved issues. That would traumatize even the most stable young adult. I couldn’t imagine what he’d gone through after that. The pain must’ve been unbearable. I thought about how I had envisioned him as an orphan child, and while that was certainly bad, this was worse. I leaned my head back into his arm. His hand dropped to my shoulders, and pretty soon he had his arm around me while I rested my head in the crook of his arm.
"That was eight years ago. I go back home whenever I can to see my mum, who hasn’t ever really recovered. I was so young. I panicked and left, just a month after the accident. I couldn’t face her every day. The guilt was too much. My older brother, Stephen, lives near mum, so he cares for her. I came here after a friend of a friend let me know that the Parc was looking for a full-time groom. I needed to get away. So… here I am."
"You have to know that it wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?" I whispered.
"I know. It’s just hard to live with most days."
"You can’t blame yourself forever."
"It’s just… it’s should’ve been me," he said, darkly.
"No. I refuse to believe that martyr, self-pity crap," I said, honestly. "I… I’m really glad I met you, and if you hadn’t been around, I probably wouldn’t be here."
I took my right hand and clutched his arm. I squeezed twice, like my dad used to do to make me feel better. He squeezed my shoulder back twice in return.
"Do you mean that?"
"Of course. In a way, we both came here to run away from something," I said. "I think that con
nects us somehow."
It was true. We’d both gone through something traumatic (albeit his was worse) and ended up in Gower, Wales, working at a bed and breakfast. Maybe we were more alike than I thought.
"Kindred spirits," he added.
"Yeah. Something like that."
"So, enough about me. Tell me more about you."
"What do you want to know?"
"Start from the beginning, like I did."
"OK. Well… I grew up in Oregon, right outside of Portland. I went to the University of Oregon in Eugene for Public Relations. While there, I worked at a coffee shop and loved it. I decided that I would open a coffee shop one day when I retired from PR. I flew to Vermont to visit Green Mountain Coffee, which was the mecca of coffee back then. Harry, my… husband, or, ex-husband now… was the manager. We fell in love over my five-day stay, did long distance for six months, and after I graduated, we moved to Los Angeles. We got married a year later. I landed an entry-level job at a PR firm and he worked at Intelligentsia Coffee, working his way up over the years."
"We bought a house four years ago, and our life generally stayed the same until that psychic, Lainey, told me Harry wasn’t my soulmate. She said my true mate was still out there, but that Harry would never make me happy. I think, in a way, she gave me the courage to look at my marriage under a microscope; something I never would’ve done if it weren't for her. So I panicked, suggested we try and have kids, because apparently I thought kids would fix everything, and it didn’t work. We tried for five months. We tried everything to get pregnant. We tried hard."
"OK, I get it," Alec joked. I laughed.
"So, well, you know the rest. Now I’m just trying to figure out my life without him. I have no idea where to start. I’ve never been this free before."
"Well, what is it that you love to do?"
"I love a lot of things. I like doing PR, but mostly I like working with people. I like helping people. I like wine, running, shopping, and sleeping. But I'm pretty sure none of those things can be turned into plausible careers."
"Just go from there. Do the things you love, do work that fulfills you. Take it one day at a time. Trust me, if you fill your life with love, that hurt can’t penetrate you. And eventually… you’ll figure out where you’re meant to be."
"Is that what you did?"
"I’m still doing it."
"Trying to find your swims…"
"What?"
"Nothing. It’s just, Amara has this Portuguese cousin named Anna, who gave me a pep talk before I left Amara’s wedding. She barely knew me, and yet she could see the hurt I was hiding. She called me out. It got lost in translation I think, but she said I have to go find my swims when all I can see is the roads."
"You have to find happiness when all you see is…"
"Hopelessness," I added.
"Yeah."
We sat there in silence for a minute, and Alec pulled off the road and into the parking lot of the pub. We stayed where we were as Alec cut the engine. Silence surrounded us, and I could hear him breathing. I was still resting my head in the crook of his arm. Surely his arm must be asleep by now. I sat up and looked at him. For the first time in my life, I felt like I could read someone else’s mind. We really were kindred spirits. His dark eyes were a little bit sad, but also understanding. I felt so comfortable. All of a sudden, I felt silly for being embarrassed about him seeing me with a mouth full of sandwich, or mustard on my shirt. He wouldn’t judge me. But not only that, something about him, even though I barely knew him, was easy for me. He was easy, and kind, and stable.
"When do you think you’ll leave?" Alec asked, and at first I thought he meant when do you think you’ll get out of the truck.
It took me a second to realize he meant Wales. When was I leaving Wales? I didn’t have an answer to that. And why did he keep asking me how long I was staying? As realization dawned on me, I saw him look down at his hands. Something between us clicked right then. It was complete and total understanding. I felt our relationship shift a little bit, less like strangers, more like friends, or perhaps something else. We were on the same page. He wanted to know how long he had with me. Because he’d felt the connection, too. I couldn’t describe it, but the closest thing I had was that I felt like I could trust him completely. And I didn’t ever say that about people I’d just met. Even though I’d only known Harry for five days before we decided to have a long-distance relationship, our relationship was built on lust and sex. This felt different. It felt like true friendship. But more than that. Kindred spirits.
"Right now, I don’t ever want to leave." I meant it. "But as long as Helen and George need me, and as long as I can stay here legally, I probably will."
"Well, I hope it’s a while." He gave me a warm smile. "I take back what I said that night when you fell off of Bo."
"What’s that?"
"When I said I didn’t want to be your friend."
"Oh." I was stunned. And he was looking at me funny.
"Like I said, it takes me awhile to open up to people."
"I take it back, too. I’d like to be friends." I smiled at him and he hopped out of the truck.
He opened my door and took my hand, leading the way into the party. For the second time since I’d met him, we were holding hands in public. I didn’t mind. It felt natural. I heard voices coming from inside. All of a sudden, Mary opened the front door. She was dressed in a tight black mini-dress and black thigh-high boots. She looked gorgeous.
"FI-NAL-LY, you’re here!" She hugged me first, and then Alec. "And, what’s this?" She pointed to our enclosed hands, and we quickly pulled them apart.
"He was just helping me to the door," I explained.
"Do you often have trouble getting to doors?"
I playfully pushed her and then put my arm around her as I walked in. I looked back at Alec, who winked at me as he followed us in. That wink may have turned my legs into jelly a little bit, so I was glad Mary was holding me up.
"Oh, Charlotte, you’re here! I’m so sorry we left you behind, but I figured since everyone else was already there waiting at 6:40, I’d just have Alec take you since he was still getting ready," Helen explained, holding a glass of wine in her hands. She came over and kissed me on both cheeks, beaming mischievously. She totally did it on purpose.
"It’s fine. We had a lovely conversation on the way over."
"Oh, splendid. Well, go get a drink and join us!"
I walked over and noticed Henry was working the bar.
"Hey! How’s it going?" It was weird seeing him behind the bar. I was so used to seeing him behind the check-in desk. Plus, I couldn’t get the image of him with a first wife out of my head.
"Hey, Charlotte. What can I get you?"
"Just a Guinness, please."
"Coming right up." He started filling a glass from the tap. "Hitch a ride with Alec?"
"Uh, yeah. The shuttle left without me," I laughed.
"Cool. Here’s your Guinness…" He handed it to me. "And Charlotte? Just be careful. He looks tough, but he’s pretty fragile. I imagine he’s told you about what happened to his father?"
"Yeah… how did you know he told me?"
"He likes you, Charlotte. He cares about you. I figured he would tell you at some point."
"It’s not like that," I said. "I’m married."
"Yeah, I know. I also know that your husband left you," he said with a smirk.
I stood there quietly for a minute. These people really did know how to gossip. I wasn’t mad, of course I wasn’t, but I was trying to wrap my head around what he was saying. Before I could ask him what he meant, I felt Alec’s hand come around my waist gently.
"I’ve got this," he said, paying for my Guinness. "One for me too, bud," he said to Henry.
Henry looked at me before turning around to get Alec’s beer.
"Thanks." I turned around, and he kept his hand around my waist.
Suddenly, we were facing each other. I felt my breath catch in m
y throat. He was so solid… so warm. If I weren't careful, another beer would send me over the edge. And I knew where he slept. It was too easy now. The chemistry was obviously there; both Mary and Henry (and Helen and George, too) had alluded to us getting together. We were acceptable as a couple here, where no one knew me or my history (or, if they did, they surprisingly didn’t care). He stared down at me, and then suddenly I saw a manicured hand tap his shoulder.
He turned around and I glanced at the woman behind him. She was tall and pretty. She had long blonde hair, green eyes, and a wide smile. She was wearing low cut jeans and a black tank top.
"Hey, Alec." She had some kind of strange accent. I couldn’t place it.
"Natasha."
"What are you doing here? You never come to these things."
I stepped away, feeling awkward. I wasn’t supposed to be a part of this conversation.
"I’m here with my friend, Charlotte," Alec said, grabbing me before I walked away. I spun back around and faced Natasha.
"Hi, Charlotte," Natasha said, insincerely.
"Nice to meet you," I said. I still felt really awkward.
Natasha crossed her arms and tapped her foot. She was chewing gum loudly, smacking as she chewed.
"You haven’t called me back about… you know what."
I realized her accent was Russian. Natasha was Russian. Great. A hot, tall, blonde Russian woman was my competition.
"I’ve been busy," Alec said.
"How do you two know each other?" I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.
The Foretelling (Charlotte Bloom #1) Page 16
