Authors: Rebecca Addison
“Ok,”
I sigh, “but I really don’t believe that David would hurt me. He’s not that
kind of person.”
Crew
looks down at me like he really doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.
“How
do you feel about South America?”
I
pull away from his arms and take a step backward so that I’m leaning against
the railing.
“What
are you talking about?”
“I’m
inviting you to come with me. Tonight. Look,” he says when he sees the panicked
look on my face. “You can stay for as long as you want. You can come back if
you don’t like it, and you’ll have your own cabin at the resort. It might give
your dad time to cool off, and you’ll have some space to think about what you
want to do next.”
This
is insane. I have no idea what to say.
“Just
think about it over lunch,” he smiles as he throws an arm around my shoulders.
“I hope you like tamales.”
Crew
“Oh
my God,” she sighs, “how did you learn to cook like that?”
I
reach over the kitchen island and take her plate.
“When
I lived with my grandmother in Costa Rica I made her give me some lessons.”
She
looks out past the dining room to the floor to ceiling windows that face the
beach.
“This
place is amazing. Have you owned it for long?”
“A
few years,” I shrug. “But I don’t spend much time here.”
She
looks across to the big empty living room and her eyes settle on the long brown
leather sofa. It’s the only piece of furniture in the room other than a lamp
Jake gave me as a housewarming present.
“Where’s
all of your stuff?”
“This
is it. It’s not really home; it’s more like a place to crash when I’m
visiting.”
“Hmm,”
she says, looking at me carefully. She hops off the stool and walks up to the
windows.
“This
view is beautiful,” she breathes and then suddenly jumps back.
“What
is it?”
“Can
they see us?”
She
points to two men dragging a boat over the ridge of the dunes. They’ve stopped
where my lawn meets the sand, and as we look at them, they turn to face the
house and point up at the windows.
I
walk behind her and lift her braid off her shoulder so that I can slowly kiss
the side of her neck. She shivers and tries to squirm away, but I’ve wrapped an
arm around the front of her shoulders so that her back is pressed up against
me.
“Crew!”
she hisses, “those guys are looking!”
I
smile into her hair and tighten my grip a little, before taking her earlobe
gently between my teeth.
“Relax
kid,” I laugh when her breathing hitches and she suddenly becomes still against
my chest. “It’s one-way glass.”
“Very
funny,” she says and elbows me softly in the stomach. “Are you going to give me
the tour?”
I
take her through the living room and down the stairs to the indoor pool and
gym, then back up two floors to the spare bedrooms. When she opens the doors
and sees that they’re completely empty, she sighs a little and bites her lip.
Next, I take her up the final flight of stairs to the master bedroom. It’s set
at the front of the house facing the sea, and because we’re up high, we can see
the entire bay from the windows that line one wall. Like the other rooms, there
isn’t much in here. She walks around slowly, looking quickly at the bed and
then down at my rucksack on the floor. We didn’t talk about her coming to
Venezuela with me over lunch. But I can tell she’s thinking about it. I don’t
want to push her because I get the feeling she has enough people in her life
telling her what to do already. But I also know that if she tells me she’s not
coming, I’m not going to be able to leave her in Twin Heads alone. I’m thinking
of the names of some security guys I know when she looks towards the doorway on
the other side of the room.
“What’s
in there?”
“The
bathroom. Come on, I’ll show you. It’s nothing special, though,” I smile.
Not
like yours.
She
peeks around the corner and takes in the black tile and the double shower that
takes up one end of the room. It’s typically modern and masculine, probably
exactly what she was expecting, and now that I’m conscious of it I realize that
this room looks unlived in and soulless too.
“Well,”
she says as she cocks an eyebrow and turns to look at me. “It’s certainly a
boy’s bathroom.”
I
take a step forward so that I’m right in her space and her eyes widen a little.
She thinks I’m going to kiss her. And of course I think about it, because God,
she’s gorgeous, and she’s parting her lips slightly in anticipation. But
instead I lean down and place my mouth right against her ear and whisper,
“The
heart shaped bath will be here soon.”
She
smiles at that, but says nothing, and walks past me back into the bedroom.
“How
do you sleep in here with so much glass?”
I
hit the button next to the bed, and the blinds begin to lower. A second later and
we’re in complete darkness.
“This
is like the black out at The Sea Shack again,” she murmurs and for a second I
think about filling the room with candles just for her.
I
can hear her make her way carefully around the bed in the dark, and then
suddenly her fingertips brush my arm.
“Hi,”
she whispers, and it’s husky and soft and just about the sexiest thing I think
I’ve ever heard.
“Hi.”
Her
fingers travel up my arm and over my shoulder until they come to rest at the
base of my throat. I swallow hard against her hand. She moves it down, tracing
my collarbones with her fingertips and then presses her palm flat against my
chest.
“Your
heart is racing.”
I
lift my hand and place it on the small of her back, but she gently picks it up
and puts it back by my side. I can’t see anything at all but I can feel the
heat coming off her and every now and again her hair tickles the skin on my
arms.
“Hartley,”
I say, and I can recognize the desperation and longing in my voice. “Let me
touch you.”
She
rests her forehead against me and shakes her head.
“You
smell so nice,” she murmurs into my t-shirt as her hands travel down the sides
of my ribs, pressing firmly into all of the ridges with her thumbs. When she
gets to the bottom, she tucks her fingers under the hem and then her hands are
on my skin. She flattens the palm of one hand against my lower back, and I know
she’s trying to find the words written there. A fingernail draws a circle
around my belly button, making me laugh despite how much I want her. I can feel
her smiling where she’s resting the side of her face on my chest. She continues
drawing on me with her fingernail, muttering, “You should probably think about
working out a little more,” when she moves up over my stomach. She draws a love
heart in the center of my chest and then moves to my nipple, drawing a small
circle around it. I take a deep breath and hold it, and she gently kisses me
over the top of my t-shirt, whispering, “Don’t forget to breathe,” into the
fabric.
“Come
with me tonight,” I gasp before I can stop myself and her finger freezes
against my skin.
“Are
you sure about that?”
Her
fingernail, thank God, starts drawing around my nipple again.
“Very,
very sure.”
I
try to move back from her, but the hand against my back is firm, mirroring the
way I held her captive against the windows earlier. By now she must be able to
feel how turned on I am. I want her, badly, but there’s something else, too. I
think I’m in love with her.
I ball my
hands into fists at my sides and close my eyes, even though it’s dark. I’m
fighting to keep myself under control; the bed is right behind her, and it’s
all I can do not to throw her on it. Suddenly my year of celibacy feels like it
was a really, really bad idea.
“Ok,”
she whispers and moves her hand from my back and up over my stomach to my
chest. “I’ll go with you.”
I
let out the breath I’ve been holding and wrap my arms around her back. She
sighs and her warm breath tickles my skin through the fabric of my t-shirt.
“I’ll
need to go home first to get some things. When’s the flight?”
I
reluctantly press the button to raise the blinds and light pours into the room.
She looks up at me and smiles regretfully. The spell is broken.
“I’ve
got a car coming at six. If we go to your place now, we’ll have time for you to
pack. The car can get us from there. Wait, do you have your passport?”
She
looks a little startled for a second and my heart sinks, but then she smiles
brightly and nods.
“Of
course. But if I’m going, I insist on paying for my own ticket. I’ll book it,
just give me the details.”
She
takes her hands out from under my t-shirt, and I immediately want them back
there again.
“You
don’t need one,” I say, as I pick up my rucksack and throw it over my shoulder.
“We’re going on a chartered flight. One of my investors has his own plane, and
I pay him an annual fee to use it.”
“Oh,”
she says, and for some reason I think she looks relieved.
“You
ready for this?”
She
nods and her face breaks into a wide grin.
“So
ready. Let’s go.”
Hartley
While Crew waits in the kitchen, I rummage through
my handbag looking for my passport. Why did I have to give him a fake name on
the beach? Preston isn’t even that unusual, he probably wouldn’t have connected
me to the Preston family if I’d told him the truth anyway. Now it’s just
another stupid thing I’m keeping from him, and it feels horrible.
“You
ok there?” he smiles as he walks into the room and takes in the mountain of
clothes I’ve pulled out of my every drawer.
“No.
I don’t have any summer clothes. I only grabbed winter stuff when I left home.”
“What
about this?” he says mischievously as he picks up a lacy black bra off the
floor and dangles the strap over one finger. “This looks nice.”
“I
thought we agreed that you wouldn’t be touching my underwear.”
I
take the bra off him and deliberately put it into the bag. When I catch his
eye, he’s looking at me intently.
“We
may need to revise that rule.”
My
breath catches in my throat, and he smiles when he notices. Damn him.
“Seriously,
Crew. I have jeans and woolen jumpers and scarves here. I’m a red head. With
your skin tone, you can’t possibly understand. I’m telling you if I wear this
stuff in the heat I’m going to look like a beetroot!”
“Well,
in that case,” he laughs, “we’ve got to stop in Caracas for a couple of hours
before we head to the village, so I’ll take you shopping then.”
I
sigh and throw a couple of t-shirts and my makeup bag on top of the bra.
“Great,”
I say as I zip up the bag. “But I’m buying my own clothes. You’re taking me to
South America. I think that’s quite enough for one day.”
He
looks down at his watch and then picks up his jacket from the bed and pulls it
on over his t-shirt.
“All
packed?”
I
take a second to look at him with his messy hair that’s just starting to curl a
little at the ends and his river green eyes that are dancing with excitement.
He looks relaxed, open, and completely different to the guy I first met at The
Sea Shack.
“What?”
he says when he sees me staring at him.
“It’s
nothing,” I smile and reach down to grab my handbag. “You just look happy,
that’s all.”
He
doesn’t say anything as he picks up my suitcase and opens the door for me with
his foot. But when I walk past him he reaches out his free hand and stops me. I
look up at him, half expecting him to make a joke, but his eyes are full of
gratitude.
“I
am happy.”
Outside
we hear a car horn honk twice, and Crew checks his pockets for his phone and
his passport.
“I’ll
be right out,” I smile and go up on my toes so that I can kiss his mouth. “I’ll
meet you in the car.”
I
watch him from the kitchen window as he puts our bags in the trunk and laughs
about something with the driver. When he climbs into the back seat I quickly
pull the water samples out from the container in the fridge and place them in
the cooler bag I took from the lab. It’s not ideal, but I can’t risk leaving
the samples here while I’m gone. When I look back out the window Crew has wound
his window down. He’s looking at my house, and I’m pretty sure he’s checking
out the piece of weatherboard near the roof that broke off in the storm. He
looks pretty cute when he frowns. I put the cooler bag in a pocket inside my
handbag and place my hand over it for a second. I hope I’m doing the right
thing.
“Don’t
freak out, but do we have time for one super quick stop on the way to the
airport?” I ask as soon as I’m in the car.
Crew
narrows his eyes at me, and then pulls me to him.
“How
super quick?”
“Super,
super quick.”
“Fine,”
he groans in mock exasperation. “Tell Frank where you want to go.”
I
lean forward and give the driver the address and in a couple of minutes we’ve
pulled up outside Eleanor’s little white house. It’s pretty much identical to
the fisherman’s cottage I live in, except that she’s extended hers so that she
has two extra bedrooms out the back. Eleanor has been planning for babies since
she was about nine.
“Hi
Hart,” she says quietly when she opens the door. “I was hoping you’d come by.”
She
looks past me to the black SUV that’s sitting by her gate.
“Is
that his car?”
“I
wish I had time to talk to properly,” I sigh as I place a hand on her arm. “I
just need you to trust me when you hear what I’m about to say.”
She
looks at me suspiciously.
“Please,
Nor. We’ve been friends for 17 years. Just listen.”
She
looks past me to the car again and nods warily.
“I
need you to take care of something for me. It’s important.” I take the cooler
bag out from my handbag and pass it to her.
“What
is it?”
“They’re
samples from the lab at Preston. I need you to keep them somewhere safe, and
they need to stay cold. It’s absolutely vital that they’re not opened. And if
anyone turns up asking for them, even David or Dad, say you don’t know anything
about them.”
“Hart,”
Eleanor whispers, “you’re scaring me. What are they?”
“I’ll
tell you everything when I get back, I promise. But I have to go now.”
“Wait,
where are you going?” she says, suddenly panicked. “Is he taking you
somewhere?”
“I’ll
keep in touch,” I say reassuringly. “Please Nor, don’t worry about me. He’s not
who you think he is.”
She
looks down at the bag in her hand and then back up into my eyes.
“Tell
him that if he hurts you I’m going to cut off his balls and cook them for
breakfast.”
I
look at her standing there in her oversized white cardigan with her hair
falling out of her ponytail and her pink bunny rabbit slippers on her feet.
“I’ll
tell him, Nor,” I say seriously. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.”