Awake in Cheshire Bay

by H. M. Shander

  Slowly, Antonio ran his hands down my back and around my waist, tugging my shirt free. His fingers trailed around the belt, over to the center, where he released the buckle and unbuttoned my pants.

  An involuntary shudder overcame me, and I slammed my eyes shut. A myriad of thoughts and visions filled my brain.

  “Ember?” A gentle tug came from my waist, his voice a million miles away. “Ember?”

  “Antonio.” I opened my eyes to see him staring up at me, confusion washing over his features.

  “You not okay.”

  My voice quivered as I spoke. “I want to be.” But my feet were encased in concrete and my hands were locked behind his head. “I will be. Promise. Keep going.” Once I pushed through, I was bound to be fine. I’d been able to do it before, I only needed to focus on the good, not the scary.

  He stretched out and grabbed my hands, holding them tenderly with one hand while he covered my chest with my shirt with the other. “No. You not okay. We wait.”

  “No, I want this.” But the trembling moved from my hands down to my legs.

  Once things progressed a little more, I would be into it, I was sure of it. I just needed more time. More foreplay. The word lit up like an explosion in my head and a giant, body wracking shudder coursed from top to bottom. Double damn.

  “Ember?” His voice like the beam from a lighthouse, called out to me through the thick fog. “I have sister.” His voice softened and he moved his hands from the front of my waist to my lower back. “I caught bad man hurting her.” He never looked away and held me in his eyes. “We wait.”

  “But we don’t have time.” And I wanted him, wanted him with every morsel of my being but I my brain refused to shut down and let my wanton emotions take over.

  “We have all the time in the world.”

  I lowered my forehead and rested it on his shoulders. There was no way this was real. Another guy likely wouldn’t have stopped. Would’ve carried on regardless. It wouldn’t have been the first time. My words were as breathless with disbelief. “You can’t be real.”

  Seriously, what guy was patient enough to stop? None in recent memory. Whether I wanted it or not, I was going to get it because that had been what I’d teased him with.

  He rubbed my back. “I real. You real.”

  I captured his face between my hands, and firmly planted a heartfelt kiss on his lips, trying to rev up the carnal desire once more. However, it failed to arrive, and in its wake, there was only one path I could take. “I should go home now and leave you be.”

  He shook his head. “No, please, to stay. We talk. We walk. We visit Sheshire Bay. Do not go.”

  I was grossly uncomfortable, mainly with myself. Desperately, I wanted to cave into the rush of sexual attractions, instead I proved how much a prude I was. However, that as it was, I wasn’t ready to let him go just yet, and walking around my lovely village was the perfect idea. Maybe he’d enjoy it so much, he’d come back for another visit.

  “Can I go home to change first?”

  A hint of a side smile formed. “Ja.”

  Antonio rose and flipped his suitcase on the bed, unzipping and throwing it open. It was packed with such skill, I assumed he travelled a lot. He retrieved a few things and disappeared into the bathroom.

  I was such a fool. Why couldn’t I give into this guy? He was so sweet and genuine, I should be able to give him my body, but my mind wouldn’t shut up. Was there a pill I could take to stop the thoughts and allow me to give into the carnal desires?

  I hung my head. If there was, then it wouldn’t be me and it would be no different than plying myself with alcohol or weed. No, if the right guy for me were to truly come around, my mind would know it as much as my body and there would be no fighting.

  Someday, maybe.

  But despite the want, it couldn’t – it wouldn’t – be with a guy I’d just met, and not with a guy who’s leaving in the morning. Even if he was a dream come true. The nightmare will always follow.

  Chapter Seven

  Because guys are lucky that way, Antonio emerged from the bathroom fresh and squeaky clean and smelling spicy all within the span of ten minutes. If that. I was sure most of it was having the shower run long enough for hot water to emerge.

  Closing out of my messages app, I glanced up from my phone as he emerged.

  “Had sand hair.” He laughed, and my heart pitter-pattered with it.

  “Yeah, side effect of falling on the beach.” My hand went to the back of my head and tousled a bit, watching in horror as part of the beach fell to the industrial carpet. “I guess I need to shower too.”

  “You take us there. I wait.”

  “You sure?”

  “Ja.” He grabbed a jacket, which was a smart move as the cool and damp October air had the power to chill a person to the bone if they weren’t expecting it. A warmer layer would fight that off.

  “Alright, let’s go.” I slipped into my shoes and stuffed my socks into my purse as I pulled out my keys.

  Down the stairs we went, his hand moving from the small of my back to holding my hand. It happened so quickly, I didn’t see it coming but I wasn’t complaining either. We got to my truck and Antonio opened the driver door for me, pausing to stare into my eyes and trail a finger over my cheek. He leaned forward and grazed my forehead with a soft kiss before pulling back and sauntering over to his side. That smirk on his face was going to be my undoing. And maybe that was his plan.

  As I pulled the truck out of its spot, I spotted Sorcha leaning against the stairwell, taking us both in. The sight of her slight scowl unsettled me, but I tried to pay it no attention. Antonio hadn’t seen her, and if he did, he wasn’t making it obvious.

  We pulled up to my place and the parking lot was full, which was promising, it meant my pub was having a good night. I drove around to the back of the building and parked in the only open spot thanks to the sign reading ‘management only’.

  “My place is a tad messy, so forgive me. I wasn’t expecting company when I went to work this morning.”

  Man, what a day. I’d totally lost track of what time it was.

  Antonio followed behind as we ascended the metal grate stairwell up to a door, offset from a wrap around patio. Years ago, I’d purchased the sizeable home and converted it into a full pub on the main floor and sound-proofed the second level to turn it into a nice two-bedroom suite, with a sweeping view of the Pacific Ocean from the patio. It was money well spent, and because the pub did well, I managed to make the final mortgage payment last month. Amber’s Ale was all mine.

  We stepped into the space and a familiar scent of cinnamon, from the fragrance sticks I had set around the place, warmed my soul.

  I gave a sweeping gaze over the living room and kitchen. It was as horrible as I’d thought. At least the counter was clutter free.

  “Please, help yourself to whatever you’d like. I’ll go and freshen up; it shouldn’t take me too long.”

  He pulled out his phone and flashed it in my direction. Countless notifications lit up the screen.

  What kind of a developer was he?

  “Emails and calls.”

  Yeah, have fun with that. Those never ended. I pointed toward the peninsula in the kitchen. “There’s a charger on the kitchen counter if you need.”

  “Ja.” He smiled and sat upon my couch, which judging from the look on his face, was not as firm as the bed he’d sleep on tonight. “You go do what you do.”

  Stepping away slowly, I gave the area another sweeping glance. We didn’t come back to spend anytime here, just a quick pitstop. “I’ll be quick.”

  And with that, I ducked into the bedroom and pulled off my still uncomfortably damp clothes, tossing them all into the hamper. I hopped into the shower and did the fastest clean ever, drying off a mere four minutes later. At least there was no more sand in my hair as it was currently dancing and swirling around the drain. I towel dried my hair, fluffing and scrunching it to help define the curls and brushed some
powder over my t-zone to absorb the shine. Satisfied with the way I looked, I scrambled into the closet, searching for something practical and yet a little sexy, however, I spent more time hunting for a matching set of bra and panties. Mission accomplished, I exited my bedroom after quickly smoothing out the duvet on the bed, and fluffing the pillows, just in case.

  Antonio was on the phone, his accented voice firm and unyielding to whomever he was speaking with. He turned around and his voice softened as a smile stretched from ear to ear. It sounded like he said weinershen when he hung up, but I may have been wrong. The word made me giggle.

  “You are stunning.”

  I curtsied. “Thank you. Am I interrupting anything?”

  “No.” He bridged the gap between us, pocketing his phone. “Your place is… ahh…” He was waving his hand in circles. “Homey.”

  I smiled. “Yes, thank you.”

  “Your family?” He pointed to a picture tucked in beside a few self-help books with titles like The Courage to Heal, Toxic Parents, and Healing the Trauma of Abuse

  Those books had been untouched in a while, but suddenly, I felt very exposed and vulnerable knowing he probably gave the titles a passing glance and wondered what the hell kind of person he was hanging out with.

  Instead of dwelling on it too much, I focused my attention on the lovelies in the frame. “They are my surrogate family. These are my friends, Willow and Arlo.” I pointed to the two older people who could very well be substitute parents, and on many occasions had been. “And this is my best friend Cedar and her fiancé Mitch. This guy is Eric, he’s the pilot that brought you to my pub.”

  “Ah, yes. He is different.”

  It was an older picture, a couple years old, and due for a retake since Eric was now with Lily and her son, and Cedar was pregnant. Maybe in the summer.

  “Maybe if you come back for Thanksgiving, you can join us for our annual bonfire on the beach. It’s a private party, held at Eric’s, and there’s usually thirty of us.”

  “Bun-fire?” His perfect eyebrow arched.

  “Yeah, you know a bonfire. Big flames, lots of wood. So much fun.” My arms opened wide to demonstrate, and it had me wondering if he was completely unfamiliar with the word. “Don’t they have gatherings where you are from?”

  “Ja, but no fire.”

  “Ah, you’re missing out. It’s just something we do here.” I shrugged as memories of summer days, warm breezes and lots of laughter floated in my head. “Where are you from anyway? You never mention anything.”

  His shoulders sagged. “It is not close.”

  “Are you from Europe?”

  There was a glint in his eyes. “I can not say.”

  “Can’t? Or Won’t?”

  “Can not.”

  I sighed. “Okay. I don’t understand why.”

  “Duty.”

  Duty? What kind of an answer was that? “So, back home, wherever you are from, is there someone waiting for you?”

  “Sister.”

  “Just her? No girlfriend? No wife?”

  “I no cheat.” His face tightened, which relaxed me. I may be an eventual notch on his bedpost, but at least he wasn’t a cheater. “I has no one. At home.”

  “Me either, for what it’s worth.” None seemed interested, and apparently, even a smooth-talking sweetheart like him couldn’t get past my defenses either. I was hopeless and destined to be a little old lady all alone in my bar.

  Antonio wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me in close enough to feel his heart beating beneath my palm. A long finger pushed away part of my bangs and trailed down my cheek and over to my lips. It was like sweet little zaps of electricity, and it was wonderful and intoxicating. He cupped my chin, tilting it up and brushed his lips over mine.

  I wanted more, and I sought it out, but he stepped out of reach.

  “Show me more.”

  I swallowed at his unexpected comment. “Of me?” My voice cracked because I still wanted to but wasn’t sure how. Yet.

  He chuckled as he stared deep into my eyes. “Of Bay. Of your home.”

  “Oh, yes.” I gathered my senses as the butterflies slammed into the wall. “Of course. Anything in particular? What would you like to see?”

  “All.”

  Well then, I was going to be his tour guide, and I mentally tabulated a variety of sights. Cheshire Bay wasn’t too big, and most of the interesting sights were within walking distance. It was the better way to see. We weren’t just lighthouses and pubs. Our stores were delightful, although as I glanced at the clock, most would be closing soon.

  “Want to walk around the town? It isn’t too big, and I can show you anything you want.”

  “Perfect.”

  I locked up my place and we headed down. “Would you like to see the wharf?” His brows knit together. “It’s where the boats dock. There are a nice variety of sailing boats and the odd yacht or two.”

  “Show me.”

  We headed toward the dockside of our peninsula, all the while I filled him in about the school we passed, and how my graduating class was only twelve people. He laughed and mentioned his group was in the hundreds. There wasn’t even a hundred in our school between kindergarten and grade twelve. To my running list of clues about Antonio, I added how he must’ve at least grown up in a metropolis of some sort to have had so many in one grade. Clearly it was not small town, population 1200.

  The best part of our walk was the way Antonio took in every word I spoke. It thrilled me to have someone so interested in what unimportant information I spewed out.

  We stopped at the rickety entrance to Wharf Point, a weathered white wooden beam with a sign, originally painted in the 70s, dangling from it. Although the sign hadn’t changed, the docks had recently undergone an extensive upgrade and expansion, and I enjoyed grazing up and down the floating boardwalks checking out all the fancy boats.

  “This is the wharf. A lot of people will dock here. Some even live in them full time and travel around the world.”

  I pointed to the boat buildings off to the far side, where a few were parked year-round. The buildings accounted for a third of the dock space. The rest were open docks and featured an array of motorboats, sail boats and the fancier, more expensive ocean cruisers – the yachts.

  “Boating nice way to travel.”

  “You’ve travelled on one of these?”

  Even under the glow of the streetlights, there was a tinge to his cheeks.

  Yeah, he didn’t just travel on one of those, my gut said he owned one of them. But which one? Was it the thirty-foot sailboat? The yacht with the darkened windows?

  One by one, I pointed to the smallest boat, making a game out of it. Antonio shook his head, grinning as I attempted to hide the growing curiosity in my voice.

  Walking down the docks, I’d nudge. “This one?”

  “No.”

  And the game continued until we got into the bigger boats, the granddaddies of the meek sailors. The kind of boats you stared at as it pulled into the harbour. There were two of these grand vessels docked.

  I took a chance and pointed to the smaller of the two. “That?”

  “No. That one.”

  That one was at least a hundred feet long, and I suspected it had to back into the dock as it was pointed toward the opening of the inlet. It had two visible levels, all with darkened windows. The sleek exterior with red canvas deck chairs sent my imagination running wild with curiosity over what the inside was like, and the type of occupants it carried across the ocean.

  “You’ve been on that?”

  He nodded and there was a flicker of change behind his eyes. “Like mine.”

  “Like yours?” My jaw unhinged at the knowledge I’d been correct. Antonio wasn’t just a developer; he was a mega-rich developer. “You own one of these?”

  The guy was beyond loaded. Wow. It was crazy how I hadn’t truly suspected as much all along. He did arrive with his own flight crew, after all.

  “Grand
Divertmento.”

  What? Oh, right. “That’s what you named your boat? What does divertmento mean?”

  “Big fun, bad name.” He shook his head as he laughed.

  Big fun? Yeah, it was funny, a horrible name mind you, but funny. Mind you, I could relate - my pub name wasn’t much better – Amber’s Ale. “Where do you cruise to?”

  “Mediterranean Sea.”

  Jiminy Crickets. My geography knowledge was fairly limited, but I knew where that was. Damn. What would it be like to sail on that sea?

  “That’s on my bucket list of places to visit when I’m old and retired.”

  “Better when young.”

  “Perhaps, but I’d need the money to get there. That’ll come in about twenty years.” Unless I struck it rich in a lottery I never played.

  “May be,” he broke it into two distinct words, “some day soon.”

  I laughed, and let the words fall out of my mouth, and cocked my head to the left. “You going to be the one to take me?”

  “Why not? It be good.”

  I swallowed and tried to contain my stare. Surely, he was only saying it to be polite.

  “Do you not like travel?”

  “I’d love to, I don’t have the means to travel. The furthest I’ve been to is the mainland, to Vancouver. Otherwise, I’ve been on this island all my life, even though I have a passport, which I need in case I travel to Seattle.”

  Eric sometimes flew over there, and every once in a while, I’ve wanted to catch a flight just to go and see what Seattle looks like. Some day I’ll find it in me to actually buy a ticket.

  “All your life?”

  I nodded. I didn’t want for much though. Everything I needed was tucked into this small section of the planet. “Where’s the best place you’ve ever been?”

  He rubbed his chin, and we started our walk toward the shore, as waves gently slapped against the dock. “Greece is beautiful.”