Chapter 23: “Let Be be finale of Seem.”

Slayer

––––––––

I watched her walk up the shore, the red floral sundress she wore clinging to her wet body and her long violet hair swaying in beachy waves down her back. Damn, if I didn’t get a semi just watching her walk.

Last night, while she was gone, I’d returned to my old routine of cold meat and white bread for dinner followed by a walk to the shore with that behemoth book. I wasn’t even really keeping track of the story so much anymore as consuming the words to pass the time.

When it got too dark to see the text, I lowered it and looked out at the water, wondering what I’d be doing if I hadn’t been out here, running away from my demons that night. She said I’d saved her, but the reality was she was the angel who saved me. Now I was trying to hold onto her—as if I could be that lucky.

Walking slowly toward the boardwalk, I savored the memory of being inside her for the first time with no barriers, just her and me. Glancing around, I adjusted myself, glad I didn’t have an audience. I looked down at the painting she’d done. It was a skilled artistic rendering even if it was finger paint. She’d swept waves across a blank sheet of paper that rivaled the ones behind me hitting the shore.

I stacked the paint-filled plates on top of one another and collected the four bottles. It wasn’t much to carry, and she was rubbing a towel in her hair when I walked through the door.

“I was just coming to help you!” She lowered the towel and looked a little sad.

“I told you I could get it all. Here.” I held out my painting to her. At the top of the red triangle was a yellow circle and from there, several purple lines hung down.

“Is this me?” she exclaimed as if it were the Mona Lisa.

I grinned. “How did you guess?”

“You have hidden talent, Mr. Bennett. I think you should be promoted to the advanced class.”

Shaking my head, I held up her ten-second masterpiece. “This is really good. You shouldn’t be taking a break from college. You need to keep this going.”

Her eyes warmed, and she looked down. “Maybe next semester I’ll get it going again. I had just sort of... lost interest.”

“I’ll be glad to help you find it again.”

“You already have.”

Putting the paint-filled plates in the sink, I touched her cheek briefly... and left a spot of paint. “I’d better get cleaned up before you’re covered in paint again.”

Stepping into the closet-bathroom, I switched on the water. In time it took me to shower and wash my hair, she’d cleaned the dishes and put everything away. I smiled watching her move through my tiny space in her bare feet and my oversized tee.

“I hope you like sausage pizza,” she called when I stepped around the curtain hiding my bed to put on a fresh shirt. “It should be here any minute.”

I returned to her, buttoning my jeans. “I thought I might cook—”

“Nope! I’m treating you to pizza.” She skipped over and kissed my lips. I reached for her shoulders when a loud knock on the door broke us apart.

Scooping up her purse, she ran to the door before I could say anything, taking the large, brown box from the teen guy standing there and passing him a bill. “Keep the change,” she called before turning and carrying our dinner into the living room.

Every time she did something like this, I felt another chink in my walls being removed. It was a scary feeling, but at the same time, nothing was as great as being with her.

We ate our dinner, and she told me about her little boy, complete with pictures on her phone. “He’s got your eyes,” I said, checking out the blue-eyed towhead. “He’s really cute.”

Her eyes glowed when she described how he knew his numbers and colors and even could recognize words in his picture books.

“It’s because Elaine’s a teacher,” she said, leaning back against the couch. “I mean, Patrick and I are smart, but she’s probably sounding out words with him and all that stuff.”

I hated the way I felt when she mentioned this guy, Patrick. It was sick of me to feel jealous, but fuck, I couldn’t help it. “How long were you married?”

Her expression changed, and she seemed surprised by my question. “Umm... almost three years. Why?”

Now I felt like an ass. “You just have such a good relationship. That’s probably a rare situation.”

“Oh, no!” she laughed shaking her head. “Patrick and I were never married. God, no. It was... well,” worried eyes rose to mine. “He and I kind of had this random fling. I was such an idiot, I got pregnant. It was totally my fault.”

She was so cute being embarrassed in front of me, as if I hadn’t done worse things. “You know, it takes two people to make a baby.”

“I know.” She nodded, pushing her hands into the sides of her hair. It was a gesture I’d learned meant she was flustered. “But I told him I was on the pill. I’d been sick and taking antibiotics, and... We were so drunk and stupid. I was such an idiot.”

The room went quiet, and I tried to think of something to say. Her face was hot pink, and I still couldn’t get over how she would blush. Her, in all her purple hair and bold personality. The blushing killed me.

“You probably think I’m a complete flake now.” Her voice was quiet, and I almost laughed.

“I don’t think that at all.”

“I would. I’d think I was some kind of psycho.”

Scooting forward, I scooped her onto my lap. Her legs straddled my waist, and she looked down, not meeting my eyes.

“Hey,” my voice was soft. “Look at me.” She didn’t, so I said it with a little more force. “Look. At. Me.”

Those little blue birds fluttered to meet my gaze, and fuck, if she didn’t take another little chink. “Everybody does stupid shit they regret. I’m the world champ at it.”

Her mouth pressed into a little sideways grin. “You keep saying that, but I’m still not convinced.”

The lightness in my mood disappeared. I caught her chin and made her look at me. “Trust me. I’m the champ.”

Her brow fell, and I hated that I’d been so forceful with her. Pushing back, she sat on the floor in front of me, looking at her palm. “I’ve made more stupid decisions than anyone I know.”

It was more of an opening than I’d ever expect to get, so I took it. “What’s that about?” I nudged her hand. “Why do you have that there?”

She didn’t lift her head. Her voice was a quiet monotone as she spoke. “When my husband died, I kind of lost it. Everyone hated him—my parents in particular—which is probably why I loved him all the more. He left out of here like a bat out of hell, and I chased right after him. Then he died.”

An ache moved in my chest at her words. I hated thinking of her going through that kind of pain alone. “I’m sorry. ”

“He had a best friend Max... Max’s older brother felt sorry for me, so he gave me a job.” She grinned up at me. “I worked as a tattoo artist for a little over a year.”

I smiled back. “That’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, only I didn’t know anything about the culture or anything. What things meant.” She looked back at her palm. “I’d seen a few guys with teardrop tattoos, and I thought about how much I’d cried after my husband died. So I put a tear in my hand, like for all the tears I’d held wishing he were still alive.”

She didn’t say more, and I couldn’t think of a good response. When she looked up at me again, she seemed to read my mind, and we both exhaled a laugh. She rolled her eyes and leaned forward against my chest, her shoulders shaking with her laugh. “I’m such a dumbass.”

Wrapping my arms around her, I kissed the top of her head. “It’s actually a pretty good gag. You really had me going at the gym.”

She sat up fast then, catching my eye. “Oh my god, you thought I was a murderer?” She shook her head. “And you were still brave enough to sleep with me?”

“You’re pretty small. I’m pretty confident I could take you.”

“Don’t make me kick your ass again.” She narrowed those beautiful blue eyes at me. I caught her chin to kiss her roughly.

“You know where that leads.” A white-hot image of us so close to making it in the men’s room flitted across my brain, prompting a response below my belt.

“Hmm...” Her wicked grin only made me harder. “I remember liking where that led.”

Lifting her easily, I carried her straight to my bed. Laying her back against the pillows, I slid forward, holding my torso up with my forearms. Our mouths were only a breath apart, but I waited. I wanted to look into her blue eyes a little longer. She was so strong and she had that edge, yet at the same time, she was still innocent. God, what was I doing?

My heart wouldn’t let me think about it. It was a damn, stubborn taskmaster, and it wanted one thing—this gorgeous creature in my arms. I might be so tough and controlled outside this bed, but laying here, with her small body in my arms, her legs slipping around my waist and her fingers threading into the sides of my hair, I was powerless.

It didn’t scare me at all, which was why I should’ve known to be afraid.