4.

Mark

I can hear her leave the bathroom. Just as she asked, I left the blankets on the sofa. What she can’t know is how fast I had to be to get them out there before she finished dressing for bed because I had to be in here, in my room, before I ran into her again.

Don’t want her? What I wouldn’t give to have her lying next to me tonight. But my thoughts turned nefarious the minute, no, the second my lips touched hers through that car window.

And it shouldn’t matter. We’re both consenting adults. But as she’s really the only woman I’ve thought about for the past seven years, there can be no mistakes. No jumping the gun. The only way to keep her seems to be keepin’ her at arm’s length for now.

She needs to fall for me, but more than that, she needs to trust me again. Five years ago, I let her down. And it ain’t like I don’t know the shit the townsfolk say. A hundred and one reasons we shouldn’t be together, and they all have to do with Logan. When she finds out our truth, her love for me, her trust in me, will be the only thing standing between her and me and heartache.

The hardest part, lying awake listening to the squeaking sofa springs as she no doubt flips and shuffles front to back, trying to get comfortable. And I know that has to do with me too. I’ve slept on that sofa. It’s more than comfortable, it’s a brown chenille cloud.

I’ll get no sleep until she gets sleep and in order to expedite the process, I totally slap my plan in the face and go out to the living room to tuck her in.

When she opens her eyes pinning me with all the emotion building between us which at the moment consists of lust, along with maybe something a bit stronger, coupled with a healthy dose of confusion and sadness, well, I shove my plan down the stairs and climb in behind her to press my back against the back of the sofa so I’m resting on my side. One arm tucked under her neck, the other draped around her waist tucking her in so snug against me, I might actually be breathing for her. Both our heads rest on the pillow.

She uses no words, but the ‘What are we doing?’ look showing all over her face has me kick my plan when it’s down, kissing her temple. Her nose. Each cheek. Then lightly brush my lips against hers. Yep. I’m a glutton for damn punishment.

When she opens her mouth about ready to break the quiet, I use my eyes to shush her and let her know, ‘It’ll be alright.’

A slight head nod, and her eyes close. It’s startin’. She trusts me enough to sleep. Hell yeah, she does. I call that a small victory, and I’ll take all ‘a those I can get.

I know I followed her in sleep for a few hours, but no matter how comfortable she had me, snuggled so closely together, the fact is my couch ain’t made for two adult bodies to sleep on. My back rests against the back cushion. My hand, my arm and even leg have kept her from spillin’ onto the floor.

So as hard as it is, I extract myself from her warmth and roll her so she lays safely, rolling onto her side. Elise, she’s something else to watch in her sleep. So beautiful. So innocent. Knees tucked up to her chest. Hands tucked under her chin.

I sit on the arm of the recliner next to the sofa just watchin’ her breathe. There are two choices here. The one where I climb on top of her, bringing us both some needed comfort for a while or go for what’s behind door number two. As I’ve told myself so many times why the first choice can’t happen yet, I extract myself further this time from the painful situation, opting for a shower to escape every thought and feeling rearing to explode from me.

When I leave the bathroom showered and dressed for the day, just tying my damp hair back, a noise catches my ear from outside. More than a noise, a couple ‘a noises. First, glass shatters and second, tires squeal.

I’m out the door barefoot and seeing red. The car and people are gone when I get out to the driveway and stop, pressing my palms against my forehead. What the hell? Who the hell?

Then there’s a soft gasp behind me, and I know it’s Elise. I know she sees what I see, her car—tires slashed, windshield shattered and disgusting words spray painted in choppy yellow lettering so the whole neighborhood can see them set against the midnight blue of her coupe: Slut. Whore. Traitor.

I turn, capturing her in my arms, trying to shield her from the sight. Although she sags into me, she refuses to look away.

“I’m not a whore,” she whispers against my shoulder.

“Let’s go inside, darlin’.”

“I’m not a whore, Mark,” she says again. As if she thinks I would believe—come on Elise, how could you think that of me?

“I know, darlin’. I know.”

She lets me lead her back inside. Within minutes the police have arrived.

Tommy Doyle takes our statements. We’ve been friends for years, graduated together. Upon seeing him, shit, I’d been worried he’d spill my secret. But Tommy was a good friend then and continues to prove himself a good friend now.

Elise sits on the sofa wrapped with the blanket from last night around her shoulders, shaking with the weight of everything which has gone down the past couple of days.

“Was sorry to hear about your dad, Miss Elise.” Tommy squats down next to her, placing his hand along the ridge of her shoulder. “This was the last thing you needed.”

“So you don’t hate me?”

God, I hate how beaten down she sounds.

“Girl, we partied together in high school. I could never hate you.”

“Seems you and Mark are the only ones who don’t.” For a woman who used to show such a strong spirit, she hangs her head low, so fuckin’ defeated.

And it guts me. I’m lettin’ her down again.

Tommy shoots me a confused glance, ‘Mark?’ I shake my head slightly. Just enough to keep him from asking the question I see he wants to ask and at the same time telling him without words, ‘We’ll talk later.’

“You know,” Elise continues. “They want me out of town so badly, how am I supposed to leave when they’ve trashed my car? I can’t drive home with a smashed windshield or…or…” She takes in a gulping breath and the tears I’ve been waiting on finally show. “Slashed tires.” She actually finishes her thought.

“Wasn’t very smart.” I offer. Not much else to say.

“Vandalism’s never smart,” says Tommy. And he pats her shoulder this time. He stands then. “Well, I think I got everything I need. Anymore trouble girl, you call me. Got it? You still got friends here. I’m one of ‘em. Which.” He pauses. “Call Maryanne. She’s worried sick about you.”

“Maryanne?” Elise murmurs.

“Maryanne. Buckley. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your best girlfriend already?”

“No, no. I haven’t forgotten Maryanne. I just…how is she?”

“Good, I hope.” A smile plays across his face. “And she’s a Doyle now.”

“You married Maryanne?”

“Almost three years now. I’ll tell her to stop by as you wouldn’t have her number, come to think of it.”

“Tommy, do you think it’s safe for her to be seen with me? Mark’s already taking such a risk.”

“Sweetheart, let me tell you somethin’. I love bein’ married. I love goin’ to bed at night and wakin’ up in the mornin’ next to her. So if I plan on stayin’ married, which I do, there’s no way on God’s green earth that I’m keepin’ Maryanne Buckley Doyle from comin’ to see her long lost best friend.”

Tommy pushes up but bends to kiss Elise’s forehead and walks toward me. “Mark,” he says. “You and me. Beers at Blues while those two catch up.”

He wasn’t asking. And proving himself today, he’s owed an explanation. So I nod.

“I’m off by six,” he says. “We’ll be there by eight.” And then he leaves out the door.

“Maryanne married Tommy Doyle,” she says. “I never saw it coming. She always wanted Beau. Always.”

“But Beau never wanted her, darlin’. Tommy, however, did. And he’s a good man.”

She blinks at me as if registering what I’ve said and repeats it. “Good man.”

That’s it. I feel her shutting down. I refuse to let that happen. “Up. Get dressed. You and me are gettin’ away for the day.”

“What about the bar?”

“Peaty’ll take the mornin’ shift. You’re more important.”

“But… I don’t have a car.”

“Good thing I have a truck, then.”

***

She stands at the mouth of the cave seeming to contemplate the darkness. Her back to me, hair flowing past her shoulders, a silhouette I’ve dreamed about just about every night for the past seven years. The cave is beautiful, but nothing in nature can compare to Elise Manning.

She turns to me. “The last time I came here was with Beau.” Her back faces me again. “Spring of senior year Logan and I had a huge fight. It was right before, well everything. I needed to get away and like always, Beau came to my rescue. We came here instead of Mammoth because all the tourists go to Mammoth.”

That’s all she says, reaching her hand back to me, I take it and we begin our descent into Carter caves. The deeper we travel the darker our world becomes. The colder our world becomes.

Elise, on her own, moves from holding my hand to pressing herself at my side where I’m able to slide my arm around her waist. She presses her face to my chest briefly before moving us along again. She moved on her own. She did.

And it’s at this point when we’re at the deepest, darkest spot in the cave, when we’re completely without light. When I can’t see her face, but can only feel her, she says, “You keep coming to my rescue. Just like him.” Then she pauses and I think she’s finished so I give her a reassuring squeeze. But she’s not finished and what she says floors me. “Don’t leave me like he did.”

I can hear water dripping. I can hear her breathing. What I can’t hear are my own breaths. I think I’ve stopped altogether. The only way I know I’m still alive is from the feel of my heart pounding out of control against my ribcage. Two days. I’ve had her back in my life for only two short days, and she feels it again, this thing between us. She feels it again, already.

After taking a beat to find my words, I pull her until she’s flush against me, front to front, and have her locked securely with both arms around her.

This is it. Here in the dark, I feel safe to tell her how she’s never getting’ rid of me. How it’s always been her and always will be her. Only, she don’t let me get it out.

“I’m here for the week. I need your strength until I go home. Please be my strength.”

Then she pushes up on her tiptoes using her finger to swipe over my face to find my lips in the darkness, and brushes a kiss over my lips. It’s soft and relatively quick, but not remotely satisfying for me. I have to find a way to convince her to stay.

The urge to talk becomes obsolete after that kiss. She’s mine. And maybe if I can get the rest of Thornbriar to know it, she’ll know it and want to stay. Elise belongs in Thornbriar. And what Thornbriar don’t know, they get in my way, try to come between me and her again, they will not like the end result.

If we could only return to living as cave dwellers. Because being here in this spot with Elise, it feels like we’re the only two people left in the world. Yet as has been known to happen, we’re interrupted by the world descending down on us.

Chatter of other cave dwellers bounce off the cavern walls. Like I said, unwelcome interruptions.

I run my hand down her shoulder, then her arm ‘til my fingers lace with hers and pull her along next to me. As we walk, the light from outside begins to filter in around us giving peeks of stone and stalagmites.

She sucks in a long, filled with awe kind of breath when we hit the cave opening. We step outside into a lush wooded area complete with a deep, clear pond, which only became a pond thanks to a fallen tree and beaver damn. It’s not quiet here like in the caves, but full of nature sounds, peaceful nature sounds.

With the temperature difference between the caves and the outside it’s like steppin’ out of a refrigerator right into a damn oven, but the smile on Elise’s face never wavers. So neither does mine.

We leave just at the right time. More people have shown up crowding the parking lot and ticket window. And the distinct rumble of engines rip through the chatter of people and squawking of birds. Definitely time to go. I usher her by the arm up into my truck. Once I’m in, we take off without looking back.