MacKenzie

I was upset with myself. I couldn’t believe I left my cell at the lighthouse. I remembered having it there. I also remembered the distraction that caused me to leave it behind.

That distraction was weighing on me still.

I missed the physical contact of love after Michael passed.

I was craving the physical contact of sex I experienced with Richard.

I would not have access until midday Friday before I would be able to take my truck across the sandbar to the island. I could have someone take me by boat, retrieve my cell and return the same day.

I choose to wait and spend the night. Perhaps while I was there I could clear my head and let go of a need I never knew existed until a week ago. I was having a difficult time reconciling that I missed sex with Richard more in one week than what I had lost for an entire year.

This wasn’t about my love for Michael. I truly loved Michael.

I craved Richard with an obsession that disturbed me.

I decided I would delete his email. That was when I discovered I left my phone behind.

Was this my subconscious telling me I didn’t have to let him go?

He did tell me he would be willing to take me up on any offer to scratch a certain itch. When I retrieved my phone, would I be tempted to take him up on that offer? I was sure this was not something I was going to find satisfying with anyone else. No, I was sure the only way to fill that emptiness I was experiencing was with him.

He told me he didn’t do relationships. He had too many commitments. Was I asking for a relationship? Could I do casual sex on demand? Would it be on my timeline, or his? He was a busy man; he would not drop his responsibilities on a whim.

Why had I let him get under my skin? What I needed to do was get my cell phone, deleted any traces of him and decide what I was going to do with the rest of my life.

I needed the pictures on my phone we took the last day on the island. When I started doing research and contacted charter companies, they would want some insight into what they would be dealing with.

The long drive did not haunt me like the last time. This time I wasn’t running away from anything. I no longer felt a lonely ache for the old memories the island invoked.

I only felt a lonely ache for the new ones.

I decided I would bring my supplies into the cabin, check there first for the phone. I was pretty sure it was left at the top of the lighthouse. I would need to charge it. I remembered checking for service. I couldn’t remember if I turned it off, or just set it down.

What I did remember was the heat ignited in me. A heat I felt every time I thought about him. Which was all too often as of late.

I was only spending the night. I had left quite a few can goods the last time around. My only real necessity was my Thermos with the half and half for my morning coffee.

I sighed in relief when I saw my phone sitting on the console. Of course I left it on, and now it was dead. Good thing I brought the car adapter to recharge it. It would be nice to have it for the long ride back home.

Securely placed in my jeans pocket, I took a look at the serene ocean before me. Had I not been adamant about getting the shot of that beautiful view, this voyage would not had been necessary.

On my way down the lighthouse, I stopped on the second floor and glanced at the books on the shelves. I should pick one out. I could hit the bed early, snuggle up with a good book and get an early start back into town. Michael was a mystery buff; there were several well known authors to choose from.

Did it make any difference? They all seemed to have the same general description on the inside cover. A big city mystery, that would be best. One of those whodunit mysteries written by some retired police detected based on actual cases.

No sense reading anything that would put my imagination into overdrive from being alone on a deserted island.

I reached the bottom of the stairs and the door opened. Standing in the doorway, the reason for my weariness, my sleeplessness. The reason for the uncomfortable ache in my very core. A core that was melting at the sight of the most beautiful man I had ever known. And known quite intimately.

“You came.” His face lit up.

“I forgot my cell phone, it’s dead.” It took all my resolve not to jump into his arms and beg him to fuck me.

“I brought you something.” He approached me with a box.

I took the contents from his hands and opened it. I began to laugh. “Shoes, you brought me replacement shoes for the ones you took? Not flowers, not candy, shoes.”

“My business partner told me you should never mess with a woman’s shoes, so yes, I brought you shoes.” He waited for a response.

“Wait, what did you mean when you said I came?”

“I texted you, you didn’t answer, so I took a chance that maybe you never left the island and did not get my text.”

“You came out, not knowing if I was going to be here or not?” I questioned, putting the shoes and the book on the old table.

“Yes,” he stepped closer to me.

“What would you have done if I wasn’t here?”

“I would have left these and texted you letting you know they were here with an invitation to my birthday party.”

“You want me to be a guest at your birthday party,” I beamed.

“No baby, I want you as my date to my birthday party,” he corrected me.

I ran to him, clung tightly and claimed his mouth. That was all I could think about from the moment I saw him walk through the door.

I was hungry, downright starving, and standing before me was the feast I was craving.

He pulled away and held my face in his hands. “You are so fucking beautiful, but this is not why I came.”

Was he rejecting me?