Paper Castles (36 page)

“Then it was meant to be.” Phil brushed a strand of hair from her face.

“How can I ever repay you?”

“I might think of something.” Phil stood up and reached back for her hands. Pulling her to her feet and into his arms. Right where she was supposed to be.

Phil cooked for her that night. Steaks on the grill and baked potatoes heaped with butter and sour cream. A salad piled high with riches from the farmer’s market.

Music from the radio had them swaying after dinner and Phil held out his hands.

“We never did finish that dance.”

“I seem to remember you saying something about a storm getting you all tied up in knots.”

“Oh yeah, the storm.” Phil laughed as he pulled her close, his heart beat in her ears.

“Are you sure you want this?” she said, looking up at him.

“Never been more sure of anything.”

Savannah digested the fact that she’d let him in at her lowest. He’d seen every flaw, every weakness up close. And he was saying he wanted her with all her sharp edges.

Savannah leaned back in his arms. “One more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re fired.”

Phil rolled his head back with a whoop. “Thank God.”

“You’re no longer my lawyer, so we’re not breaking any rules or violating any ethics clauses, right?”

Phil wet his lips. “Oh, we’re going to break some rules.”

T
HAT NIGHT she came to him in all her brokenness, her imperfections shimmering like a diamond shroud. He took her in his hands. Those hands she’d been dreaming of and she felt her rough edges falling away. He wasn’t a sculptor chiseling with tools at the stone, but like water in a riverbed, carving a new path through the layers of rock. Quenching her thirst, making her mouth water after this long walk in the desert.

He undressed her slowly, as if she were a delicate present. Untying the bow and pulling back the wrapping to expose the gift he’d been hoping for.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His voice was heavy.

She believed him. Her hands roamed over his skin, the muscles in his back tensing as her fingernails traced circles. His kiss grew more demanding. She took his hunger and fed it back to him, loving the taste of him on her tongue.

“I want to drown in you,” he whispered in her ear.

A little moan escaped her lips, but Phil was right there to catch it.

It what like losing her virginity all over again, except this time she was in complete control. Everything was new with Phil, yet it was as if her body remembered him.

Her heart and soul had welcomed him long ago, now her body would do the same. She opened her arms and drew him in, into her very being.

Moonlight slicing through the open window. Bodies rolling in white sheets, shades of silver playing on bare skin. Love, rolling and tumbling like the waves outside their door. Phil pushing, Savannah pulling, riding a wave of their own.

They were beautiful, Savannah thought. More beautiful together than apart. They weren’t
having
sex like having a drink or a smoke, but
making
love. Creating something new, something that belonged only to them.

Savannah clung to him. “Don’t let go,” she begged.

“Never.”

They made love all night, their last waves finally rolling up onto the shore with a sleepy sigh.

S
HE SMELLED coffee. It called her from the kitchen along with the rustle of pans on the stove. She stretched her arms over her head, the sheet pulled back, one bare leg exposed. She looked down at the red polish on her toenails and grinned. Even her toes were happy.

She picked up Phil’s shirt from the chair and slipped into it like he’d slipped under her skin last night. She pulled the collar up around her neck, feeling him on her back.

Phil looked up as she came in, whisk in hand. “That shirt never looked so good.”

“Thank you. I was going to make breakfast. I can cook eggs and toast, you know.”

“You can do it next time.”

“I love ‘next time,’” Savannah said. “Say it again.”

“Next time.”

“Again.”

“Get over here and kiss the chef.”

Savannah locked her wrists behind his neck, stretching on her toes, while Phil continued to whisk eggs behind her back.

“How in the hell can anyone be so beautiful first thing in the morning?” he said.

“I’m so glad I hid your glasses, counselor.”

They laughed and played, slathered their toast with butter and jam and refilled their coffee cups again and again.

“Should we get dressed?” Phil asked.

“I’m never getting dressed again,” Savannah said with a little sigh of contentment.

They did get dressed, but only after abandoning the dishes to make love one more time. Phil wanted to take a walk on the beach. The world was smiling as the lovers walked along the sand, talking, sharing, and teasing with Daisy cavorting in the waves beside them. They stopped by their old log and sat in the sand. The sun glinting off a piece of glass near Savannah’s feet caught her attention. She dug the sand away and pulled out an old coke bottle, a piece of paper rolled inside.

“What on earth?” she held the bottle up to the sunlight.

“Open it,” Phil said. “Someone might be sending an S.O.S.”

Savannah shook the roll of paper out of the neck and unrolled it carefully, revealing a familiar bold handwriting scrawled across the page. She looked at Phil.

“S.O.S.,” he said.

Savannah,

From the moment I first saw you, I was in trouble. You were a vision, walking along the beach like a secret from the sea.

Then you opened your mouth and out came the most delightful sounds I’d ever heard. Words with one syllable turning into two or three. Rolling off your tongue like the tide rolling in. Words languishing on your lips as if they were reluctant to leave your beautiful mouth. Slowly they dripped off the tongue, savoring every breath. Who could blame them?

I was hypnotized, trying my best to focus on anything but those lips as words fell like bits of sweet tea. Drip. Drip. All that existed in this world was me and your mouth.

The first time you smiled, I knew I’d do anything to have your smile land on me again.

I was done in. I should have turned around right there and then. Thank God I didn’t have the sense to do it.

You were so fragile. Trying to deflect attention from all the cracks. Hurting like a wounded animal, unable to trust. But more than anything I was touched by the sadness wrapped around you like a veil. I wanted to throw you on the back of my horse and ride off with you.

Instead, I stayed and fought for you. Watched you fight for yourself. Stood back in awe at the strength behind the fractured veneer. Steel fused to bone.

In the end, falling for you was as effortless as rain. You’re my religion, and I’m on my knees.

—Philadelphia

Savannah looked up at Phil, tears blurring her vision. “Philadelphia, this is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I love you.”

She caught her breath and Phil reached to put his fingers on her open lips.

“No. You don’t have to answer yet. I just had to say it. I’ve been holding it in for too long. I didn’t want to say it last night and have you think it was riding on the coattails of lust. I wanted to say it in the light of day.”

She kissed his fingertips still pressed against her mouth. The words in her hands more delicious than all the sex they’d had last night. More rain on the parched earth of her soul.

“I’ve had plenty of time to think about it,” she said. “I know my heart. I love you.”

His shoulders relaxed in a look of relief.

As if there could have been any other answer
, Savannah thought.
As if there could be anyone else but him.

She loved him. It settled in her bones, this grown-up love, slowly pouring into all the cracks and crevices. It filled her sails. She’d been out on the open sea for too long, rowing that little boat in circles. She finally found her sheltered inlet. She was coming ashore.

T
WO DAYS weren’t enough to hold all the love they wanted to make. They made it on the beach, under the stars. Then came home and made more in the shower, soapy bodies slipping and sliding, water raining down on their heads and dripping into their mouths.

They made love until they couldn’t anymore. Until their bodies were slick with sweat, tiny pools of perspiration in her belly button, the hollow of her throat and valleys between her fingers. Then they lay around, Phil exploring every inch of Savannah’s naked body, cataloguing every hill and valley. Every mark and scar.

“What’s this one from?” He pointed to the bottom of her right foot.

“I jumped out of a tree and landed on a board with a nail.”

“Ouch.” He kissed the arch, then crawled back up to his pillow, collapsing on his side. “What was it Neenie used to say? Girl, you look good enough to eat.”

Savannah laughed out loud at the molasses drawl with a Philadelphia twist.