Page 30 of Estranged Heart
“Yeah?” His pinky touches mine, my chest rising and falling heavily.
“Yeah. You were right. The sky and water look better from here. It’s like they knew we were coming, wanting to give us their best.”
His face pales and he inches closer. “What did you say?”
“I . . . It’s beautiful out here. Perfect even. Don’t you think?’
“Yeah. Yeah it is.” He licks his lips, inching closer. “Perfect indeed.”
My resolve diminishes, and watching how his chest rises and falls, I press my hand over it. His heart rate speeds up with mine, matching my rhythm. My heart isn’t as broken as I thought—only lost. I’m not in sync with Stacey anymore because I’m somehow linked to him. But why?
He wraps his fingers around my wrist, and an electric current passes between us. My head says I’m not supposed to be here but my heart disagrees. For the first time in months, I’m grounded and everything feels right with the world.
When the tips of our noses touch, he jumps back. “I’m sorry.” His fingers stay wrapped around my wrist and his other hand lands on my thigh. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat and he stiffens when he realizes how much he’s touching me. “I didn’t mean . . . I don’t know what’s happening. I didn’t mean to be this close.”
“I like you exactly where you are.” My words come out before I have a chance to think them through fully. Where did that come from? Why don’t I want to take it back?
We stare at each other for a long time, then Elijah’s tongue darts between his lips. There’s a familiar war in his eyes as our faces inch closer, controlled by an unbreakable force that’s beyond the both of us. Our heavy breaths mingle together and his lips crash into mine. I don’t pull away.
Gripping his hair, I deepen the kiss, and our hot tongues thrash together, mine clinging on to his the way a drowning man does a lifeline. I can’t stop. Trying to requires too much effort, while having him this way is as easy as breathing. I feel like I’ve been holding my breath this whole time, until now. He tastes like wine, chocolate, and everything delicious in the world.
I kiss him harder, thrusting my tongue deeper. I don’t realize I’m in his lap, rocking my body into his until his nails are digging into my hips. I’m about to pull away, but the moment his fingers run up my back and our chests press together I forget where we are and why we need to stop. The whole world fades away and I’m too lost in his warmth to want to leave. A wave of comfort washes over me and my heart no longer feels like it’s detaching from my body. It belongs where it is and so do I. It’s like there’s a new sickness inside me and Elijah is the only cure.
Our hard cocks grind together and I’m leaking in my trunks, needing to feel him more. More of his skin, more of his mouth and hands. Just more. He feels like home more than anywhere else I’ve been lately, and I finally feel I belong.
Honking sounds around us and I pull away, my body trembling as I glance around frantically. Like my last dream, Elijah’s eyes are half lidded and his face is flushed. He keeps looking at me as if trying to find someone else in my eyes.
People are talking and laughing in the parking lot, not paying attention to us as they unstrap a canoe from the top of their car. Climbing off his lap, I adjust my shorts and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “I have to go. I should go.”
“Yeah,” is all he manages to say, scooting back and glancing down at the space between us.
With their voices growing louder, the group of friends approach us. Without another word, I jump into the water and swim back to where I left my towel. I don’t dry myself off or put my shirt back on before getting in my car. Sand rests between my feet and my flip flops as I press hard on the brake. When I look up, Elijah is nowhere to be found. As much as I want to keep looking for him, I reverse the car and drive toward the road, heading home.
I feel like I’m going the wrong way.
Twelve
Elijah
Arriving home, I get out of my car and rush inside. My clothes are still damp from . . . Why do I not know his name? I can’t keep calling him Flower Shop Guy.
I don’t remember Landon referring to him as anything other than Stacey’s husband. He’s married and was acting as much a fool as I was. We were being careless in public with barely a single brain cell working between the two of us. He touched me and I was tongue tied. Then when he kept saying words Landon used to, I lost all logic and kissed him. Fuck, it felt good too. He was warm and perfect in my arms. We pressed tightly together and the feel of his heart against mine struck something inside me, causing hot flames to flicker between us.
Wrong doesn’t even begin to describe what we did. His ring digging into my skin wasn’t enough to stop me either. I haven’t felt that whole in a long time. He was a stranger but felt like a missing piece to my puzzle that broke off the day I lostLandon. He’s not him. He’ll never be. No one can replace what I lost. I was lonely, grieving, and a mess. He was nothing but a distraction that I needed in order to escape the hell I’ve been trapped in.
Every time he’s around me it’s like a current is pushing us together, and I can’t explain why but I want to stay as close to him as possible. No one has ever held my attention that long other than Landon. I didn’t think anyone else ever could, especially not this soon. As good looking as the stranger is, that’s not what draws me to him. In fact, I can’t explain what it is that makes me feel so at peace and settled when he’s near.
Only three months have passed since I lost my husband and I’m already kissing someone else. What the hell has gotten into me? My heart was both breaking and smiling at what he said and did. They were such insignificant things and yet I could feel Landon in all of them. Him tapping his fingers on his wine glass, how he kept humming random tunes whenever we weren’t talking, and the books he chose before I recommended him one.
He was funny too, in a different way. More a dry, sarcastic humor, but it made me laugh all the same, and for a little while I forgot anything bad had happened—that I’d lost everything. He brought all the light with him when he entered my store and it followed behind him when he left. The dark cloud that had loomed over me the last few days is back, growing larger and heavier. Why do I feel as if I’ve suffered a loss all over again?
Turning on my phone, I connect it to the charger and strip out of my clothes. Missing the hamper on the way to the shower, I don’t turn back to pick up the clothes and instead turn on the water. Once it’s warm enough, I step into the tub and close the curtain, allowing the steam to wrap around me. With my eyes closed, I stand under the relaxing stream and press my hands to the wall, leaning forward. I stay this way for a while before finally washing up.
Once the water runs cold, I shut it off, step out, and reach for a towel on a nearby rack. It smells like Landon. Everything does when it comes out of the dryer. I haven’t run out of his favorite detergent yet, and won’t for a while. Landon loved buying everything in bulk.
“You never know when you won’t be able to go to the store,”he used to say. He’s gone, but his words still follow me everywhere and so do our memories together. Touching the towel and bringing the flowery scented fabric to my nose only has the guilt stabbing at my chest more. I kissed someone else. I held him in my arms and don’t think I would’ve stopped if he hadn’t. If he’s ever that close again, I’m afraid it’ll happen a second time, and why do I badly want it to?
Squeezing my eyes shut, the towel bunches in my closed fists. It’s too soon. All of it. Too much, too soon. I’m trying to find the men who killed my husband, and have a funeral to finish planning. I don’t have time to think about another man. To want and crave him. Dropping the towel on the sink counter, I bend down and pick up my clothes to put them in the hamper.
