Award-winning.
I had no idea. I clicked on the tabs and spent the next twenty minutes soaking in all things Jaxson Cassidy, actually, Sundance, the photographer.
When I was done, with only a slight hesitance, I typed his father’s name. It was not an invasion of privacy since he’d told me about him. I clicked on the first article.
GULF WAR MYSTERY ENDS
U.S. Department of Defense
August 2, 2009
A nearly two-decade old mystery surrounding the first American soldier lost in the gulf war has been solved. Remains recovered in Iraq have been identified as Captain Michael Cassidy, whose jet went down on January 17, 1991. His military status, which has been missing in action, will be changed to killed in action. His family looks forward to bringing his body home.
Rivers of tears coated my cheeks as I envisioned Jaxson cleaning up the yellow ribbons that had become a part of his life. I didn’t read anymore. I couldn’t. My father came home from his tour. Although I had seen pictures of those yellow ribbons tied around our trees, I wasn’t old enough to remember them. I never looked at myself as lucky, but I did right then.
I stared at the picture of his father for a long time before closing the window.
I had one more name to type into the search engine. Jaxson Cassidy. I knew what they said about curiosity.
Google brought up so many choices that I felt a little overwhelmed. Who knew if these hits were all him. However, the one I knew without a doubt that was him, was the engagement announcement from nearly two years ago because his handsome-as-sin face was staring back at me.
The headline read:
Cassidy—Easton Engagement
Bile ran up my throat when I looked at the picture of him with the cutest blonde woman. She had her arms wrapped his neck, and they looked so very happy.
I poured another drink.
What had happened to them?
And why did I feel so possessive over a man I hardly knew?
I knew the answer—I wanted what they had. A relationship. A partner. Someone to talk to about my deepest darkest sins, my fears, my highs and my lows.
Forcing myself, I skimmed the article. His fiancée was a wedding planner whose parents were both deceased. He had grown up in Jacksonville but moved to Atlanta for college. The two of them met while he was there, and both wanted to travel and see the world.
Well, at least Jaxson was doing what he wanted.
I couldn’t read anymore. My heart broke for him, and I hated that he had watched his ex-fiancée marry another. I’d never been engaged, but I was certain any kind of breakup like that had to hurt.
Really hurt.
My head was buzzing.
It was time to stop snooping.
Closing down the browser, I glanced out into the private courtyard and sighed.
I didn’t like being alone with myself.
Thinking about who I had become.
I pulled up my contacts and decided to call Simon. I could face him now. Take responsibility for leaving him to clean up my mess.
The call connected and I got his voicemail. I left him a message begging him to return my call.
Simon.
Where are you?
Why are you shutting me out?
I knew why. Because I had left him to take care of my mess, and I knew I had to find him and make things right. And I would, just as soon as I paid off my debt to Jaxson.
I looked around.
Paced.
Alone.
I was alone.
I needed something to do, and drinking wasn’t the answer.
I still had sand on me from the day’s shoot, and I decided to occupy my time by taking a shower in the outdoor paradise.
This was the first time Jaxson had left me alone. I guess he felt comfortable I wasn’t going to run.
It wasn’t like I had any place to go.
Then again, maybe he just didn’t care anymore. I wasn’t sure what triggered the coldness in him, but I really wanted to know. To understand why he would keep me around when it was obvious he didn’t really want to be near me. When he came back, I would ask.
What could it hurt?
With resolve in my head, I stepped outside. The palm fronds rustled in the sea breeze like impatient children wanting to run and play.
I understood that.
Crossing the outdoor veranda, I stepped into the shower oasis. The curved wall with its stained-glass window was lined with a creamy-white brick and the bamboo floors were soft under my feet.
The area was private, only open to the villa’s veranda.
I pulled the yellow tank dress from my body and tossed it aside, but then I picked it up and neatly folded it. I had three dresses. One orange, one yellow, and one green. All obnoxious and bright, and so not me. But still, I was thankful for the clothing Jaxson had purchased for me because otherwise I would still be wearing the hotel robe or nothing at all.
I carefully unwrapped my bandages. I felt so much better and I knew I didn’t need them any longer. I was healing, physically, anyway.
Naked, my nipples peaked in the outdoor air, and I reached to turn the spray on.
Warm water trickled out from the six jets and the large showerhead. I looked up at the blue-blue sky. It was so tranquil. It almost made me forget I was here for a reason. A bad reason. Because I had sinned. Stolen. And now I had a penance to pay.
A warm breeze swept in and I closed my eyes, imaging being here in another reality, for a completely different reason.
For love.
I picked up the decadent soap that smelled of coconuts and my clit started to pulse. Every nerve in my body had felt heightened since Jaxson. Cravings I’d never had surfaced in the blink of an eye. Needs I wanted to fulfill. Urges I needed to satisfy.
In the midst of the chaos of my life, sex was the last thing I needed to be thinking about.
And yet I couldn’t stop.
I ran the soap over my body and thought about him. The way his hands roughly touched me that night. The way my skin sparked under his fingers. The way he lit me up.
I stopped at my breasts, and with the bar of soap, I circled my nipples.
I wanted to forget all the bad.
Feel something good . . . if even for a little while.