A hostess greeted us. “Would you prefer inside or out?”
Mitch looked at me.
“It’s so nice out. Let’s eat outside,” I said.
She grabbed two menus. “Outside it is. Right this way.”
Once seated, our waitress, a pretty redhead named Ginny, came over. “What can I get you started with?”
“I’ll have a glass of Pinot Grigio,” I said.
“I’ll have a Sam Adams.”
When I handed her my drink menu, her eyes landed on my diamond, which was shining brightly in the sun. “Whoa, stunning ring,” she said before looking at Mitch. “You have nice taste.”
“Oh, I didn’t pick it out. She’s not my fiancée. We’re just friends,” he said curtly.
“Really? I would have never guessed that.” She took his menu. “Does that mean you’re single?”
“I am,” he said while looking right at me.
“I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
An awkward silence ensued as Mitch and I browsed the food menu.
When she returned, the focus of her attention shifted solely to Mitch. She totally made eyes at him when she handed him his beer.
“Are you ready to order?”
Mitch pointed to me. “Skylar?”
“I’ll have the one pound lobster with a side of baked potato and a salad.”
“And I’ll have the sea scallops with rice and a salad. Can we also have the oysters on the half shell appetizer?”
“Absolutely. You know what they say about oysters, right?”
Mitch was still looking at me while answering her. “What do they say about oysters, Ginny?”
She blinked her eyelashes. “They’re an aphrodisiac.”
His eyes were still burning into mine. “Good to know.”
She winked at him, oblivious to his clear disinterest. “I’ll be right back.”
He unfolded his napkin with a guilty laugh. He knew she wanted him. “Did you know that about oysters, Skylar?”
I rolled my eyes. “She’s a little bit too obvious, don’t you think?”
“About what?”
“She wants to fuck you, and she’s letting you know it.”
He took a long sip of his beer. “Does that bother you?”
“No. I’m just…pointing it out.”
“Okay. So, you wouldn’t mind if I asked her to meet up later, then?”
The thought made my stomach sick. His behavior had been so unpredictable today, though, that I couldn’t be 100-percent sure he was kidding. For all I knew, he might do it to prove a point and then end up really liking her.
“If that’s what you want. Is it?”
He leaned in. “Oh, it wouldn’t be what I want. What I want is for all these people to magically disappear and to take you on this table until you scream my name. So, what I want is irrelevant, isn’t it? I was just wondering if you’d care.”
All of the color must have drained from my face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, knowing exactly the effect his words had on me.
I was so turned on. I could hardly breathe.
I took a long sip of my wine in an attempt to cool myself down. “You weren’t kidding when you said you weren’t holding back.”
“I’m done wasting time with bullshit. Think hard before you ask me something. From now on, I’ll damn well give you the honest answer. When we were kids, you used to always do the same. I used to love that about you.”
Ginny arrived with our oysters, placing the entire plate in front of Mitch as if I were invisible. “Just let me know if there’s anything else I can get you. Anything at all.”
Bitch.
Mitch ignored her and pushed the plate into the middle of the table. “Have one.”
I stuck my hand out. “I didn’t realize they were raw.”
“You didn’t? I thought you knew what these were. You like sushi, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but these are kind of slimy-looking.”
I watched closely as he lifted one to his mouth and licked the oyster out of the shell, sucking out the juices. He licked his lips, and it made me instantly wet. Talk about food porn. He took another and reached across the table.
“Open your mouth.”
I did as he asked and sucked it into my mouth, swallowing the sludgy oyster as fast as possible.
I made a face. “Okay, I’ve tried it.”
“No more?”
“No.”
“Thank you for trying it.”
“I’ll try anything once.” It came out more suggestive than I intended.
I was completely egging him on, and I couldn’t stop myself.
When our meals arrived, things cooled down. It never ceased to amaze me how the mood with Mitch could easily turn from sexually tense to comfortable in minutes. That had always been our modus operandi.
We talked about everything from my health to our families. It was sweet to see the look of genuine relief on his face when I explained that my doctors were more optimistic each visit. All routine scans and blood work in the years since my transplant had checked out clear. Then, we moved to the topic of his sister whom he’d remained close with in recent years. He lamented over the fact that Summer was now in her preteens and that he might have to physically harm any boys who break her heart.
Ginny returned to our table. “Did you want dessert?” she asked, looking only at Mitch.
I just wanted to get home and intercepted. “We still have a ton of tiramisu left over from the other night back at the house,” I said.
He looked at her. “I guess that’s a no. We’ll just take the check.”
She returned with our bill and two mints.
He looked down at it and made a funny face.
I reached out my hand “What’s the damage?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Mitch, you’ve paid for this whole trip. The least I can do is cover dinner. Please let me.”
“No way.”
I suddenly snatched the bill out of his hand and saw that Ginny had left more than those two candies. His earlier smirk made total sense now.
I think you’re adorable, and I’d love to go out sometime. Call me. 757-969-2352.
My body stiffened as a feeling of primal protectiveness surged through me. It was unfair to feel this way given my circumstances, but the thought of Mitch with another woman made me crazy.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
He gave me a knowing look. I guess I wore my jealousy on my sleeve.
“I’m not gonna call her, Skylar.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation. You’d have every right to be interested in someone else.”
He looked around to see if anyone was listening then looked into my eyes. “I wish I could fucking want someone else.” His stare was penetrating. “It doesn’t feel good, though, does it? Times that by 1000, and that’s what I’ve been going through.”
For the first time tonight, I saw genuine sadness in his eyes.
“No, it doesn’t...feel good.”
He ripped the bill from my grasp and cracked a smile. “For the record, you’re adorable when you’re jealous.”
I didn’t put up a fight about paying. I just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible, angry at my sudden and selfish desire to be alone with him.
***
Mitch took two small plates out of the cupboard. “Let’s take dessert out to the beach while there’s still a little light, unless you’d want to go swimming?”
“No, the water’s too cold. It’s high tide, and the waves are rough. Dessert on the beach sounds good. I’ll grab a blanket from upstairs.”
We took our shoes off and walked out onto the sand where we spread the blanket down.
It was windy, and our hair was blowing all over the place. A flock of a dozen seagulls decided to join us once they saw we were eating.
Mitch threw one a remnant of his dessert. “They must know we’re bird
people.”
I let out a giggle. “Aw, I miss Seamus. He’s probably miserable without me.”
“That old bird and I always did have that in common.”
He startled me when he moved closer and rubbed his thumb against my chin. “You had a ton of whipped cream right there.” When he licked his thumb, a shiver ran down the length of my body.
He didn’t realize he had some whipped cream, too, on the corner of his mouth, and it was taunting me. I imagined licking it off.
“You have some, too,” I said.
“Where?”
“Right here.” I brushed my index finger along the corner of his mouth. The tip of his tongue peeked out from in between his teeth and grazed my finger as I moved it along his lower lip.”
He shut his eyes as if to fend off the feelings produced by the contact. I didn’t know why I was torturing myself. Touching his mouth wasn’t going to help if I couldn’t kiss it deeply the way I was dying to.
Now, he was staring at my mouth, a silent invitation to continue what I started. I tried to change the subject. “I have a confession. I didn’t make this tiramisu. I bought it at the bakery down the road.”
“Ah…you sneak,” he said, taking another bite.
“Isn’t it the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted?”
He slowly pulled the spoon from his mouth and shook his head. “No, actually. It’s not.”
It took me a few seconds to understand why he was looking at me like he wanted to eat me. Then, I figured out that he was referring to going down on me. I squeezed the muscles between my legs in response to the immediate reaction triggered by the memory of his hot mouth devouring me. He was the only man who had ever done that to me.
In another attempt to change the subject, I looked toward the seagulls that were now yards away. “The night is still young. What do you want to do?”
“I want go inside and light up that electric fireplace. Have you tried it?”
“No. I haven’t yet,” I said.
“That’s what I want to do. I want to sit by the fire with you and just chill.”
“Okay.”
“But first I want to make you wet.”
Excuse me?
“What?”
Before my mind could fall further into the gutter, he lifted me up over his shoulder and sprinted toward the choppy ocean.
I whacked him repeatedly as my body bounced against him while he ran. “Mitch! No. No. No. Put me down! Put me down!”
My back slapped against the cold water when he dumped me in. I swallowed some of the salt water and started coughing incessantly. My dress was drenched, and so were his clothes.
“You jerk!” I started to splash him as fast and furiously as I could.
He didn’t even try to block me. He just stood there and let me do it with a devilish smile on his face, periodically pushing his hair back with his hands and spitting out water. At one point, I got taken out by a wave and lost my balance. I started to laugh fervently after it knocked me down.
As he held his stomach in laughter, I trudged through the water and knocked him in the chest. “You think that’s funny, huh?”
“No,” he said, grabbing me again and lifting me over his head. “I think this is funny.” He threw me down hard into the water again.
We frolicked in the ocean for at least an hour until every drop of sun disappeared. The light from the house was like a lamp in the darkness.
“It’s getting chilly. Let’s go inside,” he said.
We squeezed the water out of our clothes and raced to the door. It felt like we were teenagers again. We were laughing and panting as we wiped our feet free of sand in the doorway.
“I’ll go get some towels,” I said before running up the stairs.
I quickly got out of my dress, putting on a cami and shorts before returning downstairs.
He had turned on the electric fireplace that was built into the wall in the living room. I threw one of the towels at him.
He rubbed it through his hair. His skin was transparent through the wet white shirt. “This wasn’t a very smart idea. I have no change of clothes.”
“I could see if there are any in the drawers or closet upstairs. The owner might have left some stuff behind.”
“Worth a shot,” he said as he unbuttoned his wet shirt.
I watched until every last button came undone and ran back upstairs, still thinking about it.
The drawers were mostly empty. In the back of the first closet, there were a few ladies winter coats, and then I hit the jackpot: one set of obnoxious tropical shorts. The motif was a combination of bright colors and palm trees. There were no shirts in sight.
I ran excitedly down the stairs. “I have good news and bad news. I found some great shorts for you but no shirt.”
“I can live with that.”
So could I.
I threw the shorts at him. “You can change in the bathroom off the kitchen.”
“These are…wow. Hideous,” he said, holding them up. They might be a little small for me.”
When he came back out, I was amazed at how good he looked even in those ridiculous shorts. With muscles and a six-pack like that, what he wore didn’t really matter. His damp hair was messy, sticking up in all directions, which I found amazingly sexy. The shorts fit him like a glove. They didn’t look nearly as bad on him as they had on the hanger.
“I feel like my package is an advertisement for Hawaiian tourism.”
I giggled. “They don’t look half-bad.” I couldn’t help checking out his body. “When did you start working out so hard?”
“A few years after you left town.”
“Really?”
“It was my outlet, still is. You have to blow off steam somehow, right? Plus, I want to be around for a long time for my son.” He walked over to the fire. “Come sit here by me.”
There was a couch right under the fireplace on the wall. He sat on one end facing me, and I sat on the other end and put my feet up.
“I saw you were checking your phone when I was coming out of the bathroom. I’m guessing he called?”
“Yeah.”
“How come you didn’t call him back?”
“I texted him that I was turning in early and that I’d talk to him tomorrow.”
“You didn’t have to lie for me. You could’ve called him.”
“This whole trip is a lie, isn’t it? What’s the difference?”
“The difference is, you’re not doing anything wrong. He could never begin to understand our history and the need for closure.”
“So, that’s what this is about…closure?”
“There’s no one else here, Skylar—just you and me. Tell me what you’re really feeling. Please. I need to know what I’m facing when we get home.”
The fire cast a glow around his face. His translucent eyes reflected the flames. Mitch’s strong hand gripped the back of the couch as if that were the one thing keeping him from touching me. He waited for me to say something. When he pointed out that no one would ever know what was said in this room tonight, it resonated with me. Suddenly, as I looked at this beautiful, vulnerable man with my name etched onto his chest, I wanted to pour my soul out to him.
“I’m feeling…like I wish we could stay here forever. I wish everyday could be a happy one, like how we were in that water tonight.”
“We can have that kind of happiness. Everyday.”
“It’s not that simple. Someone would have to get hurt for that to happen. And then, there’s Henry…”
“Henry is fine. He has me and always will. He doesn’t need a mother, Skylar, if that’s where you’re going with this. We’ve done just fine without one. Your coming into our lives wouldn’t have to mean becoming Henry’s mother. I know you may never be able to fully accept him because of—”
“No! I don’t let her impact the way I look at him. He doesn’t deserve that. He’s been through enough. I’m just afraid of hurting him.”
He rest
ed his forearms on his legs and rubbed his eyes in frustration then abruptly turned to me. “Because you think I’ll do something to hurt you again, and then you’ll have to leave, right? You don’t feel safe with me. I get it. But are you content? Every time I ask you if you’re happy with him, you skirt around the question. Fuck, Skylar. Are…you… happy with him?”
“You want the answer?”
“Yes.”
“A question for a question, then. I’ll answer, and then I get to ask you one.”
“Like our old game…without the basketball.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m down for that,” he said.
“You asked if I was happy…” I stared into the fire, feeling incredibly guilty for what I was about to admit for the first time, both to him and out loud to myself. “I’m not. I feel safe, but I’m not happy. You used to make me happy. You were the only person who ever made me truly happy. When that was ripped away, it became more important to feel safe than happy.” I exhaled. “My turn.”
“Okay.”
“How is it possible that you haven’t been with anyone in five years?”
He leaned his head back on the couch. “I don’t really know how to explain it, except to say I haven’t wanted anyone. It wasn’t worth it to just do it for the sake of it. My mother convinced me to see a therapist a couple of years ago. He seemed to think I was traumatized by what happened with Charisma, that I didn’t trust anyone or maybe that I was afraid the same thing would happen again. Somewhere in the back of my mind that might have been the case, but I can tell you the desire for other women just hasn’t been there.”
“But you have the desire now?”
“That’s two questions.” His eyes lowered to my nipples that were standing to attention. “My turn. When was the last time you had sex with him?”
“Sometime before the night we went to Bev’s. My turn. Do you have the desire back now?”
He just looked at me for the longest time then said, “Yes.” His eyes traveled unapologetically down the length of my body, and his voice was lower. “My turn. Am I the reason you haven’t slept with him since Bev’s?”
I whispered, “Yes.”