Cara’s hand
flew to her mouth. “Oh, my God, I forgot.”
Ruthie, still
looking daze and bewildered, floated her gaze back and forth from Cara to
Elsie.
She bit her
bottom lip. “Roger is taking an oatmeal bath.”
* * *
Cara shouldn’t
have been surprised when an hour later, Roger was out of the bath and settled
into her father’s den engrossed in the pile of paperwork. In the eighteen
months she’d known Roger, she hadn’t once seen him take a day off, or a
moment’s rest. Facts and figures were his life, not emotions. She’d always
found his drive appealing. If he was busy with his own career, he couldn’t
make demands on her or have expectations that clashed with her own goals.
The unbidden
image of her grandmother and Albert on the beach came to mind and she sighed.
Just once, she’d like Roger to keep his facts and figures stuffed in his
briefcase and take her with that kind of passion.
With thoughts
of passion came images of Devin running along the sand, his hair slicked back,
every muscle moving in magnificent form. Inside, her body stirred in a way she
couldn’t control. She’d had this feeling before, but never with Roger.
She walked out
into a steam bath outside, hearing the screen door slam behind her. August was
living up to its word of being the most humid and hot month of the year.
As she walked
on the beach, she pulled off her white canvas sneakers and dug her toes into
the warm sand. There were scattered blankets spread across the sand by some of
the neighbors and local residents, but being a private beach, it wasn’t
crowded.
She walked
along the edge of the beach and noticed a flock of seagulls picking at the
remains of someone’s lunch. As she drew closer, all but an ornery bird stayed
and picked at the debris until she was close enough to touch. She picked up
the old brown paper bag, discarding it in a garbage can a few yards away. If
only people would clean up after themselves and remember that people lived
here. This was her home, after all.
She swung
around and looked at the beach. The beautiful seascape she’d taken for granted
in her teens, the one she’d come to love as an adult, wasn’t her home anymore.
She lived in Boston now in a brownstone building without so much as a porch.
And her parents had decided it was their time to leave the home she loved and
move on. She couldn't blame them for that. It was their choice.
Cara had left
the house not knowing where she was headed. As Devin’s cottage came into view,
she knew that she’d been unconsciously seeking him out all along.
The cottage was
the same one his family had stayed at when they visited that summer. It was a
small, single story house painted an antique ivory with slate blue trim. It
was complete with white picket fence and perennial garden that boasted Indian
blanket flowers, hostas and purple coneflower. Even though the cottage was
rented out most of the summer, the owners were adamant about the grounds being
kept up for the few weeks they stayed there themselves. The sweet scent of the
flowers propelled her forward. As she got closer, she saw two hummingbirds
dancing on air from one coral flower to the next. When she reached the gate,
they flitted away.
Cara pushed
through the gate and heard the hinges clank closed behind her. With a few
strides up the brick path, she stood at the front door. What was she doing
here? she thought as she rapped lightly on the glass. She peeked through the
lace curtain hanging on the other side of the door, but could see nothing.
Impatience had
her walking around the house when Devin didn’t answer the door. A lone car was
sitting in the driveway, so he couldn't still at the veterinarian office.
She wasn’t
prepared for what she found when she rounded the corner.
# # #
Cara found
Devin spread out on a canvas hammock, wearing nothing but a pair of faded denim
cutoffs. She’d forgotten how the dusting of dark hair on his chest formed into
a V and trailed down his flat stomach until it disappeared into his blue
jeans. It wasn’t like her to stare. But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from
him.
Every exposed
muscle was firm, from his head right down to his toes. His hair was slicked
back and wet, as if he’d just taken a shower or gone for a swim.
Her breath
caught in her throat, but she forced her greeting past the lump lodged there. “Here
you are.” Her voice was much too breathless to her own ears. She silently
prayed her actions wouldn’t betray her thoughts.
“I’m surprised
to see you here,” he said, pulling himself up from his reclined position on the
hammock and dropping his bare feet to the floorboards.
A hot gust of
wind blew in from the ocean and tousled his hair about, making him look
incredibly adorable, causing her insides to shake as if she were running over a
rickety dock. She'd never reacted to him this way before. She had no idea why
she had this strange reaction now.
Lord had she
ever made a big mistake in coming here this afternoon.
“Things got a
little crazy this morning with the dog and Roger.”
Devin nodded.
She looked
around the porch and the immediate perimeter, rubbing her sweaty palms
together. Anything to keep from staring at Devin. A pair of leather sandals
lay tossed in a heap on the floor with a copper tee-shirt. A stack of
newspapers were stacked neatly beside them, looking as if they were still unread.
Cara just stood
there, trying to keep her breathing steady, trying not to make a complete and
utter fool of herself for what her mind kept straying to. And Devin just
stared back at her, at her lips, her eyes...her body, with a hot hunger look in
his eyes. There was nothing overt about the way he was staring at her, but it
definitely was not the way she was use to him looking at her.
Say something,
anything!
“How’d things
go at the vet?”
Brilliant.
Devin drew in a
short breath that seemed to break the spell between them.
“Better than I
expected,” he said. “He had a broken leg and a fractured pelvis, but nothing
that can't be fixed. I’ll be able to pick him up in a day or two.”
“You’re keeping
him?” Apparently, her face registered more than just a little surprise. His
low rumbling chuckle sounded like thunder rolling across the sky. She cursed
herself for the lightheaded feeling it caused.
Still grinning,
he said, “My having a dog shocks you?”
“No,” she
lied. The past twenty-four hours had been one big shock. If she let herself
dwell on any one thing, she’d go nuts. She desperately tried to sound
unaffected. “I just can’t imagine what you’ll do with a dog in Manhattan. And
with your schedule...”
“I know a lot
of people with dogs in the city. As for my schedule, I can make time when it's
important. I'm here, aren't I?”
Heat crept up
her already warm skin and she knew she was blushing.
“You'd be
wonderful with a dog. I saw the way you handled him this morning. I just
can’t imagine the dog cooped up in a penthouse apartment.”
He grimaced.
“I sold the penthouse.”
“You did?”
He nodded. “As
of right now, this little seaside cottage is my address. That is until I find
a new place.”
She dropped
down to sit on the stairs. Beneath her thigh she felt the splintered treads
and carefully shifted herself to look at him.
“So you were
serious about leaving Manhattan?”
“Maybe,” he
said, picking up an empty beer bottle from the railing and motioning to her.
“Have one?”
“Sure,” she
replied.
The screen door
slammed behind him as he disappeared into the cottage for a moment. When he
came back, he had two open bottles of beer and a glass. He handed the glass
and one of the bottles to her.
Cara couldn’t
help but smile. “You know, I used to chug down from the bottle with you.
Since when do you offer me a glass?”
Although her
comment was meant as a joke, she noticed his expression was serious. “Like you
said, a lot of things have changed since then.”
Her smile
faded. “You’re right. But I have the feeling you’re not talking about
drinking beer from the bottle.”
He sank down to
the treads and rested his elbows on his knees, holding the beer bottle in his
hand and staring out at the ocean. “No, I’m not.”
“What’s eating
at you?”
“Nothing a good
beer buzz won’t take care of.”
She nudged him
in the knee. Bad move, she thought as a jolt of electricity singe her skin
where their bodies met. Her awareness of him startled her. It was unlike
anything she’d ever felt with him before, almost animal. She wondered if he
felt it, too.
She looked at
his face, into his dark eyes and knew he did, too.
“Where’s your
other half?” he asked, still not looking at her.
“My other...oh,
you mean Roger.”
He nodded.
She didn’t know
why, but the mention of Roger suddenly felt like an intrusion. She certainly
never considered him the other half of her. She’d seriously forgotten that he
was back at the house working in her father’s den. He’d probably be there for
the better part of the day.
“He’s working.
It’s not often you can drag Roger away from his desk, so it’ll be a working
vacation for him.”
“All work no
play-” he started the familiar phrase, but Cara finished it.
“Makes Cara go
insane.”
“Guilty as
charge,” she said, grinning.
He laughed
again in a way that made her want to laugh too, but deep down, there was
nothing to laugh about. She’d intended to take these few weeks off for a
vacation that a year ago, she’d have fought herself. Now she was getting
perturbed with a regiment of life she’d followed.
“Don’t tell me
you planned on this being a working vacation.” When he gazed at her, it was if
he could see right through to the hidden inside. Warm heat that had nothing to
do with the mid-August sun, spread through her from her neck to the tips of her
toes.
“I planned on a
lot of things that don't seem to be going the way I'd hoped. I have always
been so certain about everything I wanted.” Until now. So much of what she
always thought was written in stone was now being wiped clean and re-written.
She was changing, people she loved were leaving. At least she could count on
Roger to be the same old Roger.
“It was one of
the common threads between us.”
She couldn’t
help but smile at that. “Hmmm, and I never made any apologies for it.”
“There’s
nothing wrong with knowing what you want and going after it.”
It was his
voice. That's what was turning her mind to mush. Its deep timbre sounded so
soothing, lulling juxtaposed to the roar of the waves crashing into shore. If
she let herself think about it, she could recall a hundred times they sat and
talked as kids where she unknowingly sat and listened to the sound of Devin
Michaels’ voice.
She wondered if
it was one of the assets he used in court to win his cases. Probably. She’d
seen coverage on CNN of a high profile case he tried a few years ago. He was
dynamic in the court room. Like he was now, just sitting there, talking with
her.
Yes, things
were changing all around her, but there was one thing she knew she could count
on. Devin Michaels. Deep down, despite the deepening lines on their faces and
the distance they’d put between them, she still found it so easy to talk to
Devin. It was as if living half their lives apart had no effect on their
friendship.
She watched a
woman with a small child of about two years old, walking along the water’s
edge. The wind blew the crisp white sun cap off the toddlers head and blew to
the sand a few yards up the beach. Mother and child playfully ran after it,
hand in hand, giggling. Cara couldn’t help but giggle, too. That was the
paramount thing that had changed with her, she realized. The most colossal
change a person could make in their life was starting a family.
“You really
want a baby, don’t you,” Devin said quietly as he watched her. He noticed,
even this morning during their run, how Cara reacted every time she saw a
child. Who’d have thought that she would ever succumb to maternal urges?
She’d never once spoken of motherhood for herself.
But then again,
who was he to be surprised? No one would ever believe the changes he’d been
thinking about for his own life. He could only imagine how the brass plates
back in Manhattan would react if he decided to actually go through with any of
those plans.
Cara was still
looking out at the ocean, an expression of longing on her face that he’d never
seen before. Her vulnerability overwhelmed him and made him want to touch
her. Reaching out, he stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers and
gently brushed a wayward strand of hair aside.
She closed her
eyes for a mere second, and leaned into his touch, the scent of jasmine
drifting to him with the light breeze. She smelled sweet like powder and
lemons, as if she’d just made some homemade lemonade before she came over. He
heard her moan softly before her eyes flew open.
She stood up
quickly, pulling the cuffed edges of her white shorts from her thighs before
taking the few steps down the stairs. She brushed her hand along her derriere
as if she were suddenly self-conscious. What he wouldn’t do to have his hand
there, doing that very same thing. He couldn’t help but take pleasure in the
gentle sway of her hips as she moved. He’d touched her countless times in
harmless ways, but never in the way his mind kept insisting he venture now.
And it was an
incredible odd place to go. This was Cara, the girl he used to help climb out
of her second floor bedroom window in the middle of the night so they could
have a bonfire on the beach and drink cheap liquor. She was the one who played
hooky from her summer job just to drive all the way to New Hampshire to buy an
old beat up Firebird he’d wanted to restore.