Forever Shade

by Shayne Ford

  My pulse throbs furiously in my throat.

  “So, yeah… To answer your riddle. I don’t think neither of us is ready. And maybe we will never be. Perhaps, all we need is me to fuck more models and you to fuck more escorts. That’s not…”

  She pauses, her eyes dipping as her hands begin to tremble.

  “This is so far removed from the idea of love, it’s not even worth talking about it.”

  TARA

  His eyes glisten with tears as memories from a distant past flash in front of my eyes. Our first encounter, the time we spent in Italy and then here. Our first event together and then the time we spent with Maya and Chad.

  For a moment, our surroundings seem frozen.

  If it weren’t for the clock ticking on the wall, and the wind blowing at the windows, tossing flurries at the glass, this would look like a surreal postcard.

  I finally shift in my seat.

  “If I leave now, I can catch the eleven o’clock plane,” I say as I push up to my feet.

  “Stay,” he says, his hand curling around my wrist in a smooth gesture to stop me.

  He shoots his gaze up.

  “Please,” he rasps, his voice low and dark. “We’ll fly back whenever you want to, just don’t leave tonight.”

  Slowly, I lower myself into my seat.

  Without looking at me, he leans back against his seat, his fingers going through his hair before he runs his thumb across his lips, pondering over something.

  “You’re right,” he says.

  Our eyes meet again, his gaze heavy with sorrow.

  “I made a mistake,” he adds. “But I didn’t know at the time. And then I made it again. Last week…”

  A rueful grin touches his lips.

  “I rushed into things. I feared that you’d be gone if I didn’t try to get you back. I loathed the fact that I’d be losing you again by setting us in a routine. I thought that I could make you mine only if I touched you. I failed to…”

  He stops and looks down, his smile breaking my heart.

  “I failed to see you,” he finally says as he moves his gaze to me. “And now you see me better than I used to see you. That doesn’t mean that I stopped loving you.”

  He searches my eyes for a few moments.

  “If you see me, you must know that,” he adds.

  I let my eyes linger on his face before I briefly dip my gaze.

  “What I see is you loving the idea of me. But you are blind to me. Distrustful. You said that it didn’t affect you that I was with someone else. I think it does. And it affects me. You lost that perfect version of me, Shade, and now you’re grappling with doubts.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “The way you made love to me. This game you played with me to bring me here. You wanted me if I was ready. You wanted me to come to you, hoping that this conversation would never have to happen. You hoped that I wouldn’t see it, and wouldn’t feel it. You thought that we could patch things up without looking into them. Without acknowledging them. You know that it can’t be done.”

  He stays quiet.

  A few more moments pass by before I shift in my seat as if I am about to leave, this time for good.

  “We’re not over, Tara.”

  He lifts his eyes.

  And I see something different in them.

  “It’s not over,” he says again. “It can’t be.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He reads my eyes for a few seconds before he pushes out of the sofa and walks into the other room.

  He comes back a few moments later, a book in his hand.

  “What is that?” I ask, recognizing the cover.

  He takes a seat next to me, and leafs through the book before he finds a piece of paper, and pulls it out for me. My pulse surges as I recognize my handwriting.

  He hands it to me.

  Slowly, I unfold it, snippets of the past coming back to me. The warm breath of a summer afternoon in Italy. Me reading this book and then writing this note. Him watching me from the shadow of the bedroom, while I was sitting at a table in the reading room.

  “You wrote that,” he says as I stare at the words scribbled on the paper. “Was it a lie?”

  The letters play in front of my eyes, searing my heart.

  ‘I found my man. The only man that I needed to live my perfect life. And although I can’t tell what life has in store for us, I’ll stick with him no matter what because he needs me as much as I need him. And he loves me the same way I love him. And our love will never leave us whether we walk through sunshine or through piles of rubles. Whether we wear smiles or we are covered in wounds. Whether we live apart or breathe like one. There is nothing to break us apart. He sees me the same way I see him. And I know in the deepest of my heart that no man can take away from him what will always be his. And only his. The same way no woman can stake a claim on him because his heart belongs to me.’

  Tears stain the piece of paper as I fold it and give it back to him.

  “It wasn’t a lie,” I say, not even bothering to wipe away my tears. “Every word I wrote is true.”

  I smile.

  “But that was how I felt then.”

  He gives me a skeptical look, and then a bitter smile.

  “Why do you think I brought it here? I would’ve never thought about it had I not felt the same way.”

  “What are you saying?” I ask.

  It takes a few moments before he speaks.

  “All I want is a second chance.”

  “We had it.”

  He nods.

  “Give me another chance to show you who I really am.”

  20

  TARA

  Amalfi, Italy

  Lightning flashes across the sky in the distance, the thunder vibrating in the air a moment later. The sky turns dark in a moment, coloring the sea with shades of blue and green and charcoal gray.

  “Tara?”

  I leap up from my towel, and wave at him, hurriedly picking up my things.

  He’s already rushing down the stairs, heading my way as the wind picks up and the sea turns angrier by the moment.

  Another lighting and another thunder.

  Big splashes of rain start to fall on my tanned shoulders, my warm skin cooling off in a moment.

  He reaches to me just as a gust of wind picks up sand and throws it at me.

  His arms curl around me like a shield, his hand protecting my face.

  “Ugh. I can’t see anything,” I say, specks of sand crunching between my teeth. “How could it change so quickly?” I mutter as he guides me across the beach and up on the stairs to his place.

  “They forecast a change of weather,” Shade says as we reach the top of the stairs.

  “The flowers,” I say as swarms of leaves and flowers spin in the air, the wind toppling the potted plants.

  “Don’t worry about them. I’ll pick them up.”

  He makes sure that I make it inside safely before he walks out the door.

  “Be careful,” I toss at him as he’s already climbing the stairs.

  “What is wrong with this weather?” I mutter to myself as I clean myself and brush my hair with my fingers when I hear the sound of a broken window, and the shards of glass falling on the stairs.

  I drop my things on a chair and dart to the patio. I pull the chairs in and secure the table before I look around.

  The sky is black and so is the water and the wind turns everything it picks up from the ground into rubble.

  “Shade?”

  I shield my face with my hand as I look up and down the stairs and to the lower level where the water shakes in the pool.

  This tornado feels like an earthquake.

  A thunder resonates behind my back, making me push out a scream.

  “Shade?” I try again, but I can’t see him.

  I slip inside and lock the doors before I run across the room.

  “Shade?” I call him, hoping to find him.

  See that he’
s okay.

  Another window gets busted. I’m afraid those are the neighbor’s windows.

  Ugh. All that broken glass flying around. And he is shirtless, wearing shorts.

  I finally get a glimpse of his shoulders as he leaps up the stairs holding something in his arms. It looks like a rolled blanket.

  “Get inside,” he shouts, closing the distance between us fast.

  Within seconds, I push through the door and only breathe normally again when I see him inside.

  “This is crazy,” I say, sick with worry but also smiling, happy to see him inside.

  “You okay?” he asks, a few leaves stuck to his hair, a few drops of blood on his shoulder.

  “What is this?” I ask, breathing out concern. “Oh, my God. Was that glass?”

  “Probably.”

  I bring my hands to his face and clean the leaves before I remove dirt from his neck and check his wound.

  “I can clean you quickly.”

  He looks down.

  “It’s only a scratch.”

  That’s when I hear a whimper coming from the blanket.

  My eyes widen in surprise.

  “What is this?”

  A soft smile curves his lips.

  “We have a little buddy with us for the night,” he says slowly unfolding the blanket.

  The corners of my lips lift as my eyes fall on a puppy.

  “Shade? What is this?”

  His eyes brighten with a smile as he takes in my expression.

  “I found him in the street when I checked my bike. The wind must’ve dragged him here.”

  Soft and smooth like velvet, the little dog whimpers again as I take him in my hands and bring him to my chest.

  He looks at me with sparkling eyes, his coat a mix of white and brown and black.

  “He is so cute.”

  I kiss him on his head.

  “And he smells good too.”

  As if he knows I’m talking about him, he flicks his pink tongue out and gives me a kiss.

  “Oh, my… He is so sweet,” I say as I press my cheek against his soft coat. “I’m so happy that you found him. Is he the neighbor’s dog?”

  “I doubt. They have big dogs. I’ll ask around tomorrow.”

  A clap of thunder shakes the windows, making the puppy cry and the lights flicker.

  “Let me bring some candles before the lights go out. The generator might go out too,” he says while I pull a few pillows off the bed, and set the puppy on top of them after I tuck them in a basket.

  “That looks good,” he says, heading to the bathroom.

  “I’ll give him something to eat after I clean your shoulder.”

  TARA

  Moments later, we both sit on the edge of the tub as I clean his scratch and put on a clean dressing.

  “This should do it,” I say.

  I run my fingers on his shoulder, my gaze lingering on him.

  He tilts his gaze at me as he gives me a side glance.

  A soft smile curls his lips as he takes in my expression.

  “You okay?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  Tenderly, I cup his face and lean to him to give him a soft kiss. He smells like rain, the sea, and the summer. His skin also has a faint scent of aftershave.

  “It’s been a wonderful two weeks,” I say melancholically.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” he says, tipping his gaze down, avoiding my eyes.

  “I wish I could live here forever,” I say, my words prompting him to raise his eyes.

  He reads my face for a moment.

  “I know that it’s not possible,” I murmur, “but I always loved this place. It felt like home.”

  Without a word, he brings his hand to my neck and gives me a soft kiss.

  “It feels like home for me too,” he says as he pulls away from me.

  A rumble of thunder splits the air above the house, the rain rapping against the roof when I hear the sound of barking.

  I pull up to my feet.

  His hand slides to my wrist as he pushes up as well.

  His hands frame my face, his blue-green eyes sinking deep into mine.

  “Let’s talk more about this,” he says, my hands traveling to his chest. “Okay?”

  “All right.”

  “Dinner time?”

  I nod.

  My heart begins to race as I feel the emotion in his voice.

  I don’t even how, but I find myself wrapped in his arms, his bare chest against the top of my bikini swimsuit, my skin against his skin, my fingers on his face, my lips looking for his.

  He tilts his head down so that our lips connect, and opens his mouth a little, his tongue touching mine. A current of pleasure travels through my body.

  I press myself against him as he unties my bra.

  With a smooth motion, he slides it off my chest before he brings his hands to my breasts. His thumbs circling and teasing my nipples while he deepens his kiss.

  His hands travel up, his thumbs trailing my neck, brushing my jawline, every bit of his touch warming up my skin.

  “If we do this, we should be doing it right,” I murmur against his lips as his hands travel down this time, cupping my breasts in passing and then untying my bikini bottom too.

  The piece of fabric falls to the floor.

  “We are doing it right,” he says as I feel him hard against my belly.

  I slide my hand down, touching him through his boxer shorts. I feel his cock stirring against my hand.

  Slowly, I drag his shorts down, freeing his erection.

  “Now, we’re doing it right,” I say, wrapping my fingers around him.

  Slowly, I stroke his hard flesh while he kisses me again.

  Loving, unhurried strokes, the intensity of my motion growing as my rhythm picks up.

  Moments pass by as we float, locked in a daze, burning against each other.

  I feel a bead of wetness breaking beneath my fingertips and then I sense his arms around my thighs as he slowly lifts me.

  With one motion, he spins with me. My back lines the wall, my legs looping around his waist.

  He enters me without breaking our kiss, his hips rocking as he keeps sliding his hard length into me.

  “Oh…” I breathe out, sensing the heat and tension building inside me and him.

  He shields my back so that I don’t feel the coldness of the tile and starts thrusting into me much harder.

  My arms wind around his neck as I hold onto him, his torso pressed against mine, his breath hot on my lips.

  He arches his back and rolls his hips, finding a point of perfect balance, his pounding steady, his chest heaving from exertion.

  “Hey, baby…” he murmurs, his face flushed, his lips curved into a soft grin, his cheeks burning.

  His eyes gleam, blue-green gemstones framed by his lashes.

  It feels good. He feels good, his muscles bulging as he supports my weight.

  His smile softens his eyes, showcasing the man I crave.

  He feels stronger than before, more attentive and resilient. More forgiving.

  “Hey…” I say, running my fingers on his face, drinking in his beautiful features.

  Pushing myself up, I bring my lips to him. Our kiss is soft and deep, tender and sensual and full of love.

  “I love you, Shade…”

  “I love you too, baby,” he says, flashing a tender smile.

  With that, he locks my mouth again and takes me all the way.

  TARA

  “Is he asleep?” Shade asks, tipping his gaze down to my chest.

  Curled up, the puppy we now call Sparky takes a nap in the crook of my elbow.

  He’s warm and soft and twitches from time to time.

  “He likes it,” he says as he pushes out of his chair and brings two plates of food to the table.

  He sets one in front of me before he puts another one in front of him.

  The storm died out, and the patio doors are open again, the mixed sounds of the e
vening entering the space.

  Stars twinkle in the distance and the gusty wind has turned into a soothing breeze.

  We eat in silence, lit candles on the table, the music of old love songs keeping us company.

  “Mmm. I love your food,” I say as I taste the delicious pasta. “You really know how to cook.”

  He grins, flattered.

  “How was your life this past year?” I ask.

  He tilts his gaze down as he lifts the glass of wine to his lips.

  “Strange,” he says after a moment.

  He takes a sip of wine and sets the glass back on the table while I chew slowly on my food.

  “Why?”

  He looks at me.

  “For the most, part it was work-related stress. Living in the hotels or sharing suits with Chad.”

  “Not only your suits it seems.”

  I train my eyes on my plate, a knowing smile tickling my lips.

  “What do you mean?”

  I gesture with my fork.

  “Nothing,” I say, still grinning, but not looking at him.

  His hand comes to my shoulder.

  “What do you mean, Tara?” he asks seriously.

  “I’ve heard rumors.”

  He tosses me a questioning look.

  “From Maya?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  He smiles, embarrassed, gesturing with his fork.

  “It’s not… You shouldn’t believe everything. It happened in the past, but not so much in the past year.”

  “That’s not what she told me.”

  “Okay…” he says, setting his fork down and picking up the glass of wine again. “It happened… occasionally.”

  “For fun.”

  “Mmm-hmm. Neither of us was in the mood for anything else.”