He held out his hand. “Kai.”
I took it, noting both the warmth and calluses. When I tried to pull away, he tightened his grip. “May I have my hand back?”
“In a minute.”
His thumb weaved a sensuous stroke across my knuckles. He stared at me, but I didn’t feel like squirming. The power of his eyes entranced me, and my heart pounded as he continued to hold my hand. He was a stranger in so many ways, and yet I saw something in him that I had in myself.
His sorrow was a mirror into my heart.
I knew instinctively that Kai was reckless, and I wanted to throw myself into the eye of his storm. I wanted experiences that would forge and inspire me, and I knew that could only happen with him, but I couldn’t say why.
“Sage…”
“Yes?”
“May I kiss you?”
I couldn’t speak past the emotion in my throat, so I nodded.
As Kai’s face came close to mine, I thought he was going to kiss my lips—instead he pressed his warm mouth to the flickering pulse at my throat.
“Will you come home with me?” he asked.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
Without taking my eyes off him, I plucked the glass from his hand and drank the bourbon in a few long swallows. Setting it down on the bar, I reached for my purse to pay for our drinks, but he stopped me by pulling out his wallet and throwing down some Euros. “How many women have said no to you?”
“None.”
“You’re honest.”
“I don’t think you’re the kind of woman that can stomach lies.” He stared at me. Relentless. Feral. “You’re coming home with me, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” There was intensity in him, and I liked it.
His hand squeezed my arm. “Stay here—don’t move.”
I pulled on my coat while he went to get his mandolin. We left the bar and walked into the night. Without asking, he laced his fingers in mine.
“Have you ever been so cold, so weary, you wonder how you’ll ever make it back?” His voice was soft, and I wasn’t sure I heard him.
“What are you trying to come back from?”
“What are you?”
I didn’t answer.
We stopped when we came to the Tours Cathedral. The old Gothic building was austere in the moonlight, and seemed to block out the entire sky.
“Have you been inside?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Look.” He pointed in the direction of an ancient, knobby tree as we strolled towards it. Moonlight bathed naked, twisted branches in a silver glow.
“It belongs in the realm of fairies,” I said. “Imagine all the stories that tree could tell if only it could talk.”
I leaned over and pressed my lips to bark. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against it, wanting to pay respect to something that had withstood the test of time, far longer than any single human life. I glanced at Kai, and he watched me with a steady gaze. I gave no apology for my moment with the tree. Grabbing a low-hanging limb, I hoisted myself up into the canopy. “You coming?” I called down.
A moment later, he sat on a branch across from me.
“Do you have a place where time stops for you?” I wondered.
“I used to, but it’s gone now.” He turned his eyes to me; they were haunted with despair.
I hadn’t expected the weight of his emotion, and so I jumped down to escape the moment. Kai followed, landing next to me. Without a word, he took my hand and led me away.
•••
We arrived at a narrow door on a cobblestone street, lined with dull grass peeping between the cracks. I trailed after Kai up the stairs. Jiggling the key in the lock, he let me inside. The studio was sparse—twin bed in the corner, a rickety circular table with two wire chairs, and a small refrigerator making a faint humming noise, attesting to its age.
Kai set his mandolin case down as I walked to the window and looked out over the quiet path. I could almost imagine the color of the flowers that would appear in spring. Turning back to him, I smiled.
“What?”
“It seems just the sort of place a musician would live.”
He grinned as we perched on the bed. Holding my hand, he traced the back of it. “Anyone tell you that you have elegant knuckles?”
I laughed. “No.”
He brought them to his lips. “This—,” he gestured to the studio, “is just a place out of the rain.”
“You don’t like being owned by things, do you?”
He shrugged. “Obligation is a bitch. What about you?”
I thought of Connor; I had let myself be owned by people. I nodded.
Kai reached out with his free hand to touch my face. “Where’s your home, Sage?”
“I don’t have one.” My voice was full of bone-jarring loss, an endless reservoir of sadness.
Further words were unnecessary as he turned his body towards me. Sinking his fingers into my hair, he pulled my face close to his. His mouth covered my lips in an urgent kiss, and I gave into his need, fueling my own. With gentle insistence, he pushed me back, and his body melted over mine. His hands and lips were everywhere; it was a struggle to breathe and when I did, the scent of sunshine and pine filled my nose.
Perhaps I didn’t have a home, but in that moment, I felt like I did. In his arms, my aching spirit calmed. He was summoning a feeling I had long thought dead.
We struggled out of our clothes, and I watched as Kai’s eyes roamed over me in reverence. I touched him, my fingers colliding with an angry scar on his chest. It looked like a burn.
“What is—”
“Not yet,” he interrupted. “I’ll tell you, but not right now.” He silenced me with a kiss.
I swallowed questions as my hands glided over his skin and played with the dark hairs on his chest.
His fingers tickled their way down my body, and I shivered in delight, not wanting to wait any longer. The aching loneliness disappeared like mist late in the morning as our bodies joined as one.
I rocked against him, my mouth seeking his. I bit his lip and then soothed the pain with my tongue.
He groaned, but it wasn’t in despair.
Everything made sense, and the only thing that mattered was Kai’s mouth on mine and the feeling of his warm, flushed skin against me. We moved in a frenetic pace—a moment too brief in time.
Our breaths mingled as our hearts beat in a synonymous, steady rhythm. Kai’s face nestled into the crook of my neck, and my hands gripped his hair as we attained the deepest release possible. I was fulfilled and at peace, but when Kai eased out of me I felt empty again.
“Come on,” he said, taking my hand and leading me towards the tiny bathroom. The narrow shower stall would force us to remain close.
We showered in easy silence, our hands still finding a reason to touch one another. I pressed a kiss to his scar, which I could now see in the light.
“It looks like a brand.” A tragic T&R marked forever on his body, remembered by his flesh.
“It is.”
I didn’t ask about it again.
The hot water beat down on us, and I closed my eyes and leaned against his slick shoulder. His arms came around me and squeezed. I fit into him—I belonged. We dried off, and Kai gave me one of his t-shirts.
“You’re staying.”
“I am?” I asked, even as I reached for the shirt and pulled it over my head. “You don’t seem the type that spends a whole night with a woman.”
“I’m not,” he admitted, “but I want to spend tonight with you.”
I did as I was bid, climbing into his bed and scooting over, making room for him. He slid in next to me, putting a warm, heavy leg across mine. My eyes drifted closed, even as I thought again that I shouldn’t stay.
Comfort is a powerful sedative.
Chapter 11
Kai
I bolted up, gasping, my body slippery with sweat. I had dreamt of the crash again, the smell of burning metal
in my nose, the taste of it at the back of my throat, threatening to choke me.
I looked over at Sage. It was strange to see her there. I’d never brought a woman home with me. I’d left all of them in the middle of the night at apartments or houses I’d convinced them to bring me to, but this was a woman I didn’t want to leave.
I wasn’t sure why.
Her hair flowed across the pillow like a mermaid under water. Her face was turned away from me, and her breathing was even and deep. Sage was exceptionally beautiful, but it wasn’t her looks that intrigued me.
I got out of bed, careful not to disturb her.
When Sage came into the café for the first time I thought she appeared tragic. I noticed a sadness about her, and wanted to play her a song that would make her smile. I had no idea the song I chose would cause her to leave.
When she came back the following night, I felt something. Hope, maybe.
I’d been traveling for years, with no desire to stay put. One woman had been as good as the next, but I wanted Sage for more than a single night.
I scratched my chest as I opened the cupboard, pulled out a cup, and filled it with water. Taking a drink, I turned when I heard footsteps behind me. My shirt covered the tops of Sage’s thighs and clung to her breasts, and I could see her nipples, the color of a coral starfish. Her long hair hung down her back in soft waves, fair skin flushed pink. She walked to me, and I wrapped my arms around her as she placed her head in the crook of my neck like she was made for the spot. I breathed her in—she smelled warm, like a spring afternoon in Monteagle.
“Did I wake you?”
“No,” she mumbled into my chest, her mouth close to my brand.
All the women I had slept with asked about it—I gave them different answers every time, but for once, I wanted to speak the truth, wondering if I still could. But not now.
I cupped her head in my hands, tugging on her hair to make her look at me. My mouth claimed hers; I needed to feel her moving beneath me as I lost myself in her. Only then were my demons at bay.
I wondered about hers.
I took her back to the twin bed, laid her down, and covered her with my body. Her fingers trailed down my arms and gripped my shoulders as I thrust into her, making us one.
This time, we made love, the savage beast of guilt slumbering. This time, it was just for us.
•••
“Don’t you guys get bored?” I ask.
Tristan and Reece exchange a look as Tristan passes Reece the hand rolled cigarette. “Bored?” Tristan queries. “What do you mean?”
“I hate shoes,” Reece grumbles, wiggling his bare toes.
“Why do we keep meeting here?” I wonder aloud.
“You tell us,” Tristan says.
“I thought this was your favorite place?” Reece points out. The sun glides up over the mountains. It’s quiet, serene—the silver lake is always placid.
“It is,” I state. “But it’s—”
“A painful reminder of home?” Tristan finishes.
I nod, picking up a twig and snapping it.
“You going to tell us about the girl?” Reece demands, taking another long drag of the cigarette.
Tristan raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, is it serious?”
“We just met.”
“That’s a ‘yes’.” Tristan grins.
“Think she’ll make you happy?” Reece asks.
“Yeah.”
“Think she’ll make you a better man?”
“Hopefully.”
“Does she make you reflect?”
“She is my mirror.”
Tristan is thoughtful, and then he smiles. “I don’t have a reflection anymore.”
“Time to go,” Reece says, rising. “Take it easy, Kai.”
I watch my two best friends walk down the path, their bodies disappearing before my eyes. Sighing, I look at the sky and then descend the mountain.
Chapter 12
Sage
We were a mesh of tangled limbs. Kai’s leg was thrown over mine as he held me in
his arms. We faced one another, my head resting underneath his chin. I traced a finger in the dip between his collarbones and wondered about the illusion of intimacy. I had never had a one-night stand before, and I had been prepared for awkwardness, yet all I felt was comfort.
He sighed.
“You awake?” I whispered.
“Yeah.”
I pulled back, wanting to look in the direction of his eyes. One of his hands came up to caress the curve of my cheek. He kissed me. It was a feathered dance across my lips, but not a plea for more. It was a statement of feeling, of knowledge that I rested next to him.
“Am I hogging the bed?” he asked.
I snorted. “It’s barely a bed. How can you hog it?”
Kai attempted to move over. “I’m not used to sharing a bed.”
Not to sleep, I thought dryly, but didn’t reply. His statement made me think of Connor—the last person I wanted in bed with me. But still, I couldn’t expel him from my mind. I’d broken our engagement only a month ago, and I was already in bed with another man. I shoved thoughts of Connor aside, and the guilt that came with it.
“What are you thinking about?” Kai asked quietly. His hand ran down the knobs of my spine, lingering at my tailbone.
“Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“What are you thinking about?” I countered.
“Fishing.”
“Fishing? I feel like I should be offended.”
I could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “If I was back home, this is the time I’d be getting up. I’d put on my waders, grab my pole and head out to the lake.”“I’ve never fished before.”
“No?” he asked in clear surprise.
“I’m from Brooklyn,” I said as if that explained everything.
“Aren’t you close to water?”
“The East River doesn’t count.”
He laughed.
“Actually, you can fish in Prospect Park. Have to throw the fish back though. Seems kind of like a waste.”
He made a vague noise of agreement. “I always eat what I catch. Are you tired? Do you want to go to sleep?”
“I’m kind of hungry,” I admitted. As if on cue, my stomach moaned.
“Come on, I have some food, I think.”
We got up and he slipped into boxers and I threw on his discarded t-shirt. Kai opened the refrigerator and pulled out a block of cheese, smiling in triumph. I peeled an orange that rested on the counter and set it onto a plate.
“Want some cider?” he asked.
“Sure.”
He opened a bottle of brut cider and poured it into one glass. He gave me a lopsided grin as he handed it to me. “I figured we could share. I don’t have cooties. Promise.”
My lips twitched into a grin. “I don’t believe you.”
We took our snack to the kitchen table and ate in comfortable silence. The crisp cider went down a little too easily, and soon I was feeling drowsy. I got up, set the empty dishware in the sink and turned to him and smiled.
“Are you any good? At fishing, I mean.”
“Not bad,” he said, though it sounded like feigned humbleness.
“How many fish have you caught in one trip?” I asked as I climbed into bed. Kai got in next to me and settled the covers over us before spooning me.
“Ten. All before dawn. Once the sun comes up, it’s like the fish know you’re trying to catch them.” He swept his lips across the skin below my ear. “Good night, Sage.”
“Good night, Kai.”
I dreamed of lakes.
•••
I woke just as the sun was rising, but when I attempted to get out of bed, Kai’s arm shot out and grasped my wrist.
“Don’t even think about it,” he mumbled into the pillow.
“Think about what?”
“Leaving.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
He chuckled as his arms wrapped around me, and I turned towards his embrace. His eyes were open; they were clear, serene, magical. “You’re a shitty liar, you know that?”
“Let me up,” I protested, struggling against his arms.
“Not until you promise you won’t bolt.”
“I promise. Now let me make some coffee, or you’ll wish I had left. You do have some here, right?”
“Yeah.” He released me, and I scrambled out of bed, giving him a view of my backside. He pulled on a pair of shorts, but left his chest bare. “You don’t do this a lot, do you?”
I moved around the kitchen and made coffee as we conversed. “What, sleep with strangers? How could you tell?”
“Just knew.”
“Am I just another notch on your belt?”
“Would it bother you if you were?”
I shrugged. “What can a girl hope to expect? It’s not like we spent a lot of time getting to know one another.”
He smiled. It was slow, heated. “I know you fine, but I’d like to know you better.”
I looked at him, amusement stamped across my mouth. “We don’t have to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Let’s call this what it is and leave it at that.”
“Are you telling me you used me for sex?”
I laughed. “What if I did?”
“I feel so used,” he teased.
I pulled out two mugs and handed him one. I had no idea how he liked his coffee, and I didn’t want to pretend I did, so I poured it black.
“Let me take you to dinner.”
“Are you promising to buy me food before we have sex next time?”
“Well at least I know there will be a ‘next time’.” He grinned. “I win.”
I looked at him for a long moment, sipping my black coffee. It was hot, and it scalded my tongue, so I set it down. I went to grab my belongings, shimmied into my clothes, and then put on my coat. I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt—at least for one more night. “Come to the Château de Germain tonight. I live in the small cottage behind the bed and breakfast.”
Dandelion Dreams Page 6
