CHAPTER 17: BRETT
We got a ride with one of Kerry’s friends to the airport that morning. She had also agreed to store Kerry’s car for her in half of her double garage, which I thought was a kind thing to do.
“Okay,” she called cheerily. “Safe journey.”
“Thanks!” Kerry said, hugging her tight. I looked away, giving them time to say their goodbyes. Then we were heading into the airport together.
My stomach was churning with butterflies. I looked at Kerry. She took my hand and we walked through to the departures area together.
We sat with the rest of the people—all tired and talking softly—and waited for our flight. Kerry was on the phone to her mom, texting, and I sat alone with my thoughts.
I couldn’t believe this was happening.
Of all the crazy things, my main worry at this point was whether or not Kerry would like the house. I felt so hesitant about showing it to her.
I tried to remember what it had looked like the last time I had visited it. That was six years ago. The year after that, when I had put it on the market, I hadn’t been to see it. So the place had been closed for a year. There had been tenants staying there for a while, but their lease had ended. I hoped it would look okay. I had authorized a cleaning team to go through it the last time we had anybody want to come and see it—that had been a month ago.
It should still be okay, in my hopes at least.
I remembered it—the whitewashed walls, a sunny, modern kitchen, the views. I hoped Kerry would like it.
“Attention please, American Airlines flight AA two-eight-one-zero will begin boarding at Gate…”
I looked at Kerry. She looked at me.
I swallowed hard. Not since my first track event at school had I ever been so excited about anything. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest and my palms itched. I was tense and wired.
Kerry grinned at me. I could see in how her eyes had gone so bright that she was excited too.
“Let’s go,” I said.
We joined the queue.
When we reached out seats—we were not together, but miraculously we were on opposite sides of the aisle, one row apart, so I could still see her, and she me—I leaned back and closed my eyes. I was still absolutely amazed this was happening.
I recalled the previous afternoon. Kerry had talked to her boss. He wasn’t happy, I could see that, but he had agreed to her resignation. I felt bad about causing that. But it did occur to me that it wasn’t purely selfish on my part—there was a chance that they knew about Kerry and they would use her to get to me. It seemed like that. Judging from what she had told me, it was almost certain they did, which made me feel at least a little better. I had chosen to bring her with me, not because of the danger to her, but because I wanted to. And I still did. The other justification was, well… a justification. I wanted her to be here with me because it made me happy. And that was that.
We were stationary. I still had time to check with my agent about getting the key before we started and had to switch off all mobile devices. I had talked to her yesterday and she’d been surprised, but agreed to meet us.
Hi! Just wanting to confirm about the key? We should be there by five pm today. Thanks. Brett.
She replied almost immediately.
Great! See you then. Sherrill.
I leaned back and closed my eyes and tried to sleep.
We stopped over at Dallas, and I must admit that much of that passed in a haze. The thing about having to wake up at six am is that you spend most of the day a little short on sleep—compounded by having spent a few hours on an airplane. My whole body was cramped and I felt drained.
When we got onto the final part of the flight, though, I woke up immediately. This was it! We were almost there.
We landed at three in Miami. Kerry had asked her parents not to be there, which was a good thing—explaining me would have been a bit tricky, especially explaining the vast bandage on my upper arm and why we were suddenly so desperate to leave the north.
“So,” I said, standing there in amazement. I could see Kerry felt weird, too, from how she was rooted to the spot. She looked expressionless, and when she turned around, I was horrified to see tears in her eyes. “What?” I asked.
“Sorry,” she sniffed. “I just can’t help thinking of last time I made this flight. I was… so different then.”
I frowned. “Different?”
She shook her head, reaching into her pocket for a tissue. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Just me being silly.”
“No,” I demurred, “it can’t be, because you’re never silly. Tell me, Kerry? We trust each other.”
She chuckled. “Okay. But first, let’s get coffee and then find out how the heck we get to this place.”
I laughed. “Perfect.”
While we drank coffee, she told me what she meant.
“I… last time I was here, I was still a dancer,” she said. “I’d just had my accident and I still hadn’t really decided if I would end my career permanently. I still remember how I felt, standing here. I was still me,” she sighed. “I can’t explain.”
I reached over and took her hand. Her words made sense to me. I felt exactly the same way myself sometimes. When I had finally realized that the drugs were getting the better of me and that there was no way my poor, overtaxed body would be able to keep up the race and the coke at the same time, I had said goodbye to who I felt I was.
“I know,” I said. “I felt that too.”
She sniffed. “I guess you did,” she said. She smiled sorrowfully at me. “Thank you,” she said.
“Thank me?”
“For getting what I mean,” she sniffed. “No one else does.”
“Well,” I sighed. “I guess it’s something that happened to both of us.”
“True.”
I did know exactly how she felt. Like I was fondly remembering a person I had been. Almost like that person had been me in another life, and I was stuck in this colorless, drab one, recalling them.
She sighed. “I should stop being silly. I am so excited. I just needed to get that out of me.”
“I know,” I said again.
She reached across to the Styrofoam cup of coffee. Drained it. Pulled a face.
“Bus?” she said.
I laughed.
We took the bus. The closest town to my cottage was Boca Raton. It took an hour, which meant that we arrived just after five. The sun was low in the sky, the first pink showing in the clouds. It was marvelously clear and the sight of the sea stole my heart.
Kerry looked at her watch. “Taxi?” she said.
I bit my lip and nodded. “Good idea.”
We argued about who would pay the fare all the way—I was insisting that I would and she insisted she would. We arm-wrestled. I won, even with my injured one.
By the time we got there, I think the poor taxi-driver was so sick of hearing about fares that he would almost have let us go without one. But, as it was, I had enough cash in my wallet to pay him. We waited for him to go and then walked over the hill together, toward the house.
The sun was breaking through the cloud and touching the water with bright rays. The clouds were scarlet. A gull keened.
I looked at Kerry and she looked at me.
“We did it,” she said.
“We’re here,” I agreed.
She was smiling and her eyes shone. We stood together on the sand, and I looked into her eyes. I kissed her. She wrapped her arms around me and held me close. The wind tangled our hair.
We were alone on the shore together. The waves sighed behind us and we could have been the only two living beings in the world. I heard the gulls call again, a different note, the sound they make when they go home. We were home.
I felt it in my heart.
***
I stood with Brett on the shore.
The scent of the sea was fresh and exciting. I was cold in the wind, and I drew my body closer into his sheltering warmth. He held me. I was amazed.
I listened to the low, haunting calls of the gulls and I felt my heart sing. I was so in love and so happy.
“Kerry?” Brett said, leaning back. He put his hand on my shoulder and looked gently into my eyes.
“Yes?”
“Should we go?”
I nodded. “I guess so.”
We took our suitcases and walked along the sandy path back toward where he said the cottage was. I trailed behind a little, letting him rely on his memory to find the way through the small cluster of sea-side accommodation to his place. Our place.
“Brett!” a woman called out as we rounded the corner.
“Sherrill,” he greeted her warmly. “Hi! Sorry we’re late.”
“No, you’re not,” she countered. She had a friendly face with high, flushed cheeks and sparkly eyes. I didn’t imagine realtors looking quite so nice, usually.
“I’d like you to meet Kerry,” Brett said softly.
“Kerry! Hi! Sherrill. His agent.” She beamed.
“Pleased to meet you, Sherrill.”
I looked up at Brett and saw he was smiling. We followed her toward the house. She went ahead. I stayed behind, walking just a little behind Brett.
We rounded the corner and went down a small resort-lined street. We passed an ice cream shop and then the rest of the place opened up leaving a wonderful view over the sea. That was when I saw it. The house.
“Brett?” I gasped. “Is that it?”
He went pink. Even though it was just starting to get dark, the light fading fast now, he was obviously flushing.
“Yes,” he said. “You like it?”
“Brett… I…” I swallowed, unable to get words up through the big lump in my throat. “It’s amazing. Thank you so much for bringing me here.”
He chuckled. I looked up at him. His eyes were shining. “You like it. I’m so glad.”
We stood there and stared at it. Small, but pretty, with whitewashed walls and a tiled roof and a deck around the side, the cottage stood on the shoreline, the front balcony jutting out over the sandy fall where the dunes met the beach itself. We were perhaps a hundred paces from the sea. I could see it from here, the waves rolling and crashing, the sound a sweet murmurous lullaby.
“It’s wonderful.”
I sobbed.
He took my hand. Wordlessly, we went inside.
I could hear Sherrill in the kitchen. She was switching on lights, opening curtains, closing windows that must have been left open all day to air it in preparation for our stay.
“Now,” she said briskly, “I took an inventory when the tenants left, and everything seems to be where it’s supposed to be. We painted after them, so the place is fresh-painted—it’s why I left the windows all day—and the linen was all cleaned, so it’s ready for you to stay…”
As she showed Brett round, pointing out things that had wear-and-tear and things they had fixed, I stood in the kitchen and stared, amazed.
It was small and cozy, but also incredibly high-tech. The kitchen was much better than any kitchen I’d seen in years, if not in my life. New, white and streamlined, with fancy taps and a glass-top hob, it was stunning.
I looked out over the place—the lounge and dining-room came next, and shared the big window at the front of the house. I stared.
Out there, the sun was setting over the sea, the clouds red, the ocean a dark mirror, lit with fire. I stared out. My heart stopped.
“So give me a shout if you need anything,” Sherrill was saying when I finally stopped staring at the scene and turned to the kitchen door, dreamily. She was calling to Brett, who was in the hallway by the front door, just behind the kitchen.
“I will. Thanks, Sherrill.”
“Don’t mention it,” she nodded to Brett. “We’ll discuss what you want to do with marketing it tomorrow. See you soon.”
“Thanks, again, Sherrill!” he called. “See you soon.”
He came into the kitchen. I turned and stared wordlessly at him.
“Kerry?”
“Oh, Brett,” I sighed. “It’s perfect. It’s so, so beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.”
He laughed. “I think I always wanted to share it with you,” he said shyly. “Even before I met you. When I thought of this place, I imagined a wild, untamed woman, like that fiery sea out there. And I never thought I’d meet her.”
I stared at him. I was speechless. What could I say to that?
I couldn’t think of anything to say, and even if I wanted to, my throat was closed up with emotion.
I sighed and held him to me, squeezing him against me as if I wanted to take him right into me, make him a part of me that could never leave me. I loved him so much.
He leaned down and our lips met. I wrapped my arms around him and felt his tongue gently stroking mine, my own mouth eager for its touch, my own tongue moving forward to sample his. I could feel my own arousal and I knew then that I wanted him so badly there was no way I was doing anything else for the moment.
I ran my hands down his back and reached up, lifting the edge of his shirt. He sighed and let go of me a little, loosening his grip so that I could reach round to the buttons. I started to unbutton them, slowly.
“Oh, Kerry,” he murmured. He kissed my hands.
Then he was unfastening his own buttons and reaching across for me. I had worn a tunic and he lifted it off in a single arm’s motion. He pressed me against him and my breasts flattened on his lean chest.
We kissed.
He smiled at me when we moved apart. “The bedroom has a good view too,” he noted.
I smiled. “I could leave this room, for that,” I agreed, my voice warm. He smiled.
“Good.”
We went up the stairs together. He stood back for me and I headed up the wooden staircase and felt like I never wanted to leave this place.
Upstairs, we lay down on the bed together. He took his trousers off and I took off my jeans. Our bodies pressed together, warmth of skin adding to the ambient warmth of the room.
He ran a hand down my back, stroking my skin gently.
“You’re so amazing,” he murmured. His fingers worked on my lower back, easing out the tension. He always knew where the pain was and I closed my eyes, murmuring with pleasure as he worked it out and them moved lower.
I gasped as he finished massaging my back and gently fingered me with two long and filling fingers. I was already wet, but his touch aroused me still further. He chuckled.
“I want you,” he said.
I moaned. “I want you too, Brett. So much.”
He moved so that he was in front of me and he took off my underwear and then his own, and leaned forward, taking my breast in his mouth while his hand went between my legs.
I moaned in pleasure as he explored me, his fingers parting my folds while his mouth worked on my breasts, alternating them.
His expert touch was moving me closer to the place of pleasure, fingering and rubbing my clit so that I almost screamed.
“Please,” I whispered. “I don’t know if I can handle it.” I was grinning, though. The pleasure was so acute that I wasn’t sure if I could take a moment more of it without an overload of bliss.
He knew what I meant and he grinned. “I can’t either,” he murmured. “I can’t wait a moment more.”
He knelt between my thighs and slammed into me. I gasped. I never felt quite as wonderful as I did when Brett went into me—the fullness, the amazement. It always came as a wonderful surprise, that my body could have missed it so long.
We moved together, faster and faster. I could hear him grunting and crying out and I knew that he was dangerously close to coming. I felt him try to roll me over so that he could enter me from the back, and he just succeeded. I screamed in pleasure as he pounded into me that way, the sensation entirely different than via the front. I was feeling myself getting closer and closer.
I screamed in wonder as I came. Brett grunted and strained. His seed warmly oozed out of me and I was in such delight.
Then he collapsed on me, his whole body relaxed.
He rolled off me and lay on his back. I snuggled closer to him.
We lay like that while the sun set and our minds returned from that far-distant place of bliss.
I shifted and reached for the cover. It was cold.
“Cold?”
“Mm.”
He nodded. He stood and rolled me gently to the side, then dropped the cover over me. He got in and we lay there in there, sharing and spreading the warmth.
“Kerry,” he murmured.
“Mm?”
“I love you,” he said.
I closed my eyes tight, so I wouldn’t cry.
“I love you too,” I said.
He put an arm around me and lay like that a moment. Then he kissed me, saying: “I don’t want to have to keep hiding. We should be able to live freely, both of us.”
I sighed. “Oh, Brett… you…” I was going to say he should stop worrying about it so much, but he stirred and gently interrupted my next words.
“No,” he said. “I wanted to bring you here. But we really have to do something about this. Something that’ll stop those people finally. Then we can be free.”
I sighed. “Brett, you’re right,” I agreed. I was tired and drowsy and my soul was still swimming in the wondrous warmth of his love.
“Thanks,” he said.
“We can talk in the morning,” I agreed. “Let’s wait.”
“Yes,” he nodded. “Let’s. Tonight is special.”
I was touched. I nodded, having no words to say.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Tonight is special.”
“It is.”
We lay there side by side.
We woke later and went down to the kitchen in a drowsy silence to see if we could make anything for dinner. There were breakfast supplies in the refrigerator—eggs and a loaf of bread. We didn’t have anything else, so we decided to use those.
In the silence of the kitchen, we sat and ate breakfast for supper. I watched him across the table and knew that I had never felt so happy.
He was half-dressed, the warm light from the kitchen lamp lighting that lean, hard body. I couldn’t stop smiling as I stole glances at him. He was so stunning. I had always known that, but here in this little place, it seemed so intimate—just the two of us—that I noticed it all the more.
He caught me looking and grinned.
I laughed.
We finished supper and he stood and cleared the dishes, then stood behind me and touched my arm lightly. I turned.
“Come on,” he said. I felt his voice right inside me and I sighed and let myself drown in those compelling brown eyes.
“I think I like the sound of that.”
When he got me upstairs again and into our bed, I found that, as we made slow, passionate love, that I did indeed like the sound of that, very much indeed. We spent hours recalling the different things that gave each other pleasure. It was amazing.
I must have drifted off to sleep, because when I woke up he was on his back, his profile outlined by pale light shining through the window. Outside, the sea was dark, the sand pale and shadowy. The only sounds were the gentle sigh of the sea, far down the shoreline, and his breathing. And a cricket, trilling somewhere outside the window in the small garden, just behind the compact wooden fence.
I didn’t know when I had been so contented in my life.