Speechless (14 page)

Eva arched her eyebrows, indicating her interest and prayed
that Marie would go on. There seemed little doubt of it, really. She had built
up a head of steam and would talk full speed ahead until she’d run out of fuel.

“That teacher accused Jacob of cornering that girl and
forcibly kissing her and touching her…well, I won’t say where. She said he
pulled her into a corner of the gym when no one was around and took advantage
of her. The girl managed to scream or something and that’s how the teacher
found them.”

Eva shook her head. It wasn’t possible. The man Eva knew
would never do that. And even if he was only half as good a kisser as he was
now, that girl wouldn’t have complained.

“They could have brought legal charges against him, you
know. But so many people came forward to vouch for him and there wasn’t any
proof of anything that they didn’t. It could have ruined his life. Now that
I’ve told the story, of course, it’s clear Jacob was the one telling the truth.
He might have taken advantage of girls’ hearts but he never took advantage of
their bodies. I still think he was wrong to break into the school to try to
steal the discipline report though. That got him suspended for a week.”

Eva laughed. She couldn’t help it. Here in this story was
the beginning of Stone’s career as an intelligence agent. Marie stared at her,
clearly amazed at Eva’s reaction. She dried her hands on a dishtowel and
reached for her tablet. She typed quickly.

“It’s so like him. It’s exactly what I would expect a
teenage version of him to do.”

“Huh,” Marie said. “I’d have thought he’d have changed more
in all these years gallivanting all over the world.”

“He would never have kissed that girl, either. Not if she
didn’t want to be kissed,” Eva typed.

“That’s what I think too.”

The two women, mother and lover, shared a smile, then went
back to work, Marie continuing to dry and put away dishes, Eva wiping counters
and the stovetop.

* * * * *

Stone and his father came in from their work in the barn at
half past eleven, both of them slapping dusty gloves against their jeans before
sticking them in back pockets. Stone had dirt smudged across his face and
grease stains on his hands.

“I want to take a shower before we go,” he said, pausing by
Eva’s seat in the living room. “I’ll be down in a few minutes, all right?”

Eva nodded and pointed at the chair across from her.

“The old picnic basket!” Stone exclaimed, crossing to open
it and peer inside. Marie had taken Eva into the basement earlier and found it.
Marie had also shown her some of Stone’s old things—trophies from running track
in high school, old science projects, boxes full of college textbooks and term
papers. It had been clear to Eva that Marie was hanging on to all these
reminders of her son because she hadn’t been able to hang on to her son
himself. His departure had left a lot of wounds here and Eva wondered what had
precipitated it. And if Stone would ever tell her.

Now, he seemed flooded with nostalgia, pulling the plates
and cups and utensils free from the straps that kept them in place, a ghost of
a smile on his lips.

“I had forgotten all about this thing,” he said, replacing
everything he’d extracted. “If you get lunch together, we can go as soon as I’m
out of the shower.”

Eva nodded her agreement and watched him take the stairs
three at a time.

Eva’s stomach knotted as she followed Stone behind the barn.
They walked in silence up the long, easy slope that hid there, Stone carrying
the picnic basket, Eva with her arms wrapped tightly around a plaid wool
blanket. He’d given her no more insight on what had happened that morning, what
had precipitated his attempt to withdraw from her.

After another five minutes of walking, they crested the hill
and Eva caught her breath at the view. Autumn-colored hills fell away from
them, then rose up again in the distance, a mottled tapestry of greens, reds,
golds and browns. Only here and there did the trees open up for a pasture,
meadow, or house. Beneath them wound a line of polished pewter, a river, the
demarcation between descending and ascending hills.

It’s beautiful. How could you ever leave this?

“It’s strange what family can spur you to do.”

She looked her question at him, but he just shook his head.
“That story isn’t why we’re here.”

Eva arched her eyebrows, let the question on her face narrow
and specify, “Why are we here?”

Again he shook his head and held out a hand for the blanket.
Eva sighed and shook it out, tossing him one end so they could spread it in the
bent grass. Only after they’d sat down side-by-side overlooking the view and
Stone had laid out their plates and utensils and napkins and two cans of soda
and Eva had opened the plastic containers holding leftover fried chicken,
potato salad and carrot sticks, did Stone begin to talk. He stared out across
the hills as he spoke.

“My mother tells me that when I was little I would overreact
to everything and tended to be very demonstrative. Tantrums at spilled milk,
strong attachments to other kids I met once at some playground somewhere,
wailing with grief when Dad killed one of the chickens for Sunday dinner. When
I went off to kindergarten and the other boys called me a sissy and a girl, I
decided I had to reform. I didn’t think of it like that of course. But I took
it too far and not showing my emotions became not feeling any.”

He paused and Eva waited, taking her own turn staring across
the valley. It really was beautiful, with the mix of conifer and deciduous
trees, the way the hills seem to flow in waves. She felt as if she were outside
the world, outside of time, on some sort of island of stillness.

Stone started speaking again. “My emotionlessness suited me
for a lot of careers. I thought an EMT would be one of them—keeping cool under
pressure and the like. Then I discovered that empathy was useful there, so I
decided to try something else. Eventually, I ended up in intelligence—spying. I
could lie, steal, kill without a qualm, as long as I thought it was for the
greater good. My discoveries in Thailand and subsequent events blasted a hole
in the wall I’d built around myself. When that building exploded, I felt the
first guilt I’d experienced in years. Then just as I was beginning to feel
normal again—the guilt dissipating, the wall going up again—you entered my
life.”

He said it in such a way that Eva felt a compulsion to
apologize. She tamped it down and let him go on with his story.

“Eva, you made me feel. It physically hurt. I felt like I
was being ripped open and like my rib cage was three sizes too small for my
lungs, both at the same time. I’ve grown accustomed to it. Like muscles get
used to a new exercise, I suppose. Last night, after everything, I started
thinking.”

Here, Eva spoke.
Thinking and emotions don’t work very
well together.

One corner of Stone’s mouth quirked up. “So I’m learning. It
seemed to me last night that because of the way my life will have to be, at
least for a while, maybe for as long as these people live, that there’s a high
probability that…“ Stone paused and Eva guessed that he was trying to weigh his
words. “There’s a good chance that our ways will part before long. Given how
much it hurt to start loving you, I cannot even imagine the pain that will come
from losing you. I tried to pull back, to put distance between us, to roll back
my feelings. It was stupid, Eva. It was an attempt to make that pain, if it
comes, less torturous. I’m sorry.”

Eva just sat there. This was not what she’d expected. She
hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t this long history of Stone’s experience
with emotions, followed by his telling her that it hurt him physically to love
her. She couldn’t quite get her head around it.

“Eva, you deserve normalcy and once these people are behind
bars for good, you should be able to have it. But they will keep coming after
me. Eventually, you’re going to have to decide, sever all your ties with me and
go back to Boston and your life, or stay with me and face the possibility of
violence, of moving frequently, of never seeing your family or friends again. I
know which I would choose if I were in your position and so I have to prepare
myself for when you make that choice.”

You expect me to choose my family and old life over you
and a new life.

“I’m trying not to expect anything. I’m remembering
everything you said last night and your reaction to what happened and figuring
that that choice is the one you’re most likely to make at this moment.”

Is that what you want me to do? You seem to be making up
my mind for me.

“That wasn’t my intention, Eva. But, yes, one part of me
thinks you should choose to go back—the part of me that wants you to be safe
and secure, to have a chance at a real life. Another part of me—the selfish
part, I suppose—desperately wants you to throw everything away for me.”

Eva said nothing—didn’t know what to say, what to think,
what to feel. Stone was taking pains to choose his words carefully, to not push
her toward either choice. She couldn’t quite believe that those two—old life
without Stone or new life with him—were her only two options. It was an
impossible decision and one she couldn’t even begin to make. Either one would
tear her heart apart.

Stone must have seen her anguish on her face, because he put
his hand on her arm.

“You don’t have to decide now. It might never come down to a
decision, depending on what happens. It might be made for us somehow. I never
intended to cause you pain.”

Eva nodded her acknowledgment, but couldn’t meet his eyes.
His hand moved from her arm to her cheek and he tilted her face up so she was
looking right at him. She shifted her eyes away.

“Look at me.”

She could never disobey that tone of command. Their eyes
met.

“God, Eva. You are so beautiful. I want you to be mine to
take care of for the rest of my life. I wish I could make this all go away. All
I want is to make you happy.”

Eva felt like she was drowning. In his eyes, in his words,
in everything he’d poured out to her. She had to stretch for some solid ground.

She tried a smile that didn’t quite work and said,
Two
days ago, all you wanted was to make me come.

That can be arranged.

His mouth descended to hers, captured it in a desperate
kiss. His tongue shot forward, ducked in and out of her mouth, skimmed across
her own tongue, until she met him thrust for thrust, following when he teased
at withdrawing, each taste of him making her hungrier for more. Eva clutched at
him and his hand cradled the back of her head. Stone leaned back, taking her
with him, until she lay on top of his solid form, which was warm and unyielding
beneath her.

Still they didn’t break the kiss, still Stone plundered her
mouth, devoured her entire being. Tingling pleasure coiled through her,
spiraling out from her core, making her hips ache, her toes curl, her muscles
tighten, all in needy anticipation, ready to be released. Eva straddled Stone,
nestling her pussy against his obvious erection, wishing they didn’t have two
layers of denim between them. Stone pushed back, working his hips against hers,
as if he were actually inside her. Eva gasped and arched back, ending the kiss,
but pushing herself harder against him, increasing the friction of her panties
and inner lips against her swollen clit.

Stone covered one breast with his hand, kneading, pinching,
rolling her erect nipple between his finger and thumb. Even with the layers of
clothes between his hand and her breast, it was almost too much. She froze,
poised on the brink. Stone’s other hand on the waistband of her pants jolted
her back to reality.

We can’t. Not here.

Stone shushed her. “There’s no one around.” He smiled and
unbuttoned her jeans. “I need to make you come.” His hand on her breast
squeezed and Eva pressed against him. Then his hand was inside her panties—she
hadn’t even noticed him unzip her jeans. His fingers threaded through her pubic
hair and found her slit. He skimmed only lightly over her clit on his way to
her opening, but even that had her teetering on the edge.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “Kiss me.”

She leaned down to obey, trapping his hand between her
breast and his own chest. Just as her lips touched his, he slipped two fingers
inside her and pressed the heel of his hand against her clit. Two other fingers
caught her nipple between them, while the rest of that hand massaged her
breast.

Oh, God, Stone.
Eva’s hips bucked against his hand,
increasing the friction against her clit, riding his fingers as if they were
his cock. She was falling and drowning at the same time, wave after wave
swelling through her, the pleasure almost painful, too much and not enough. She
couldn’t stop moving. Her world shrank to include only her body and Stone’s
hands. Then he crooked his fingers, pressed them against the outer wall of her
vagina and she shattered. She froze, felt her inner muscles clamping down on
Stone’s fingers inside her, heard him letting out a low moan, let the shudders
roll through her. When she finally stopped shaking, Stone slowly withdrew his
fingers from her core and his hand from her panties and she rolled to the side.

Only then did she notice that he was breathing as hard as
she was and that the denim near his zipper—just about where the head of his
erection was—had darkened with wetness. She looked for words but couldn’t find
any. Laughter shook her. Stone turned his head to look at her.

What’s so funny?

She caught her breath for a moment, so she could manage the
words.
I’m speechless.

And Stone joined her hilarity, his rich laughter filling her
more completely than his fingers or his penis ever could. Her heart swelled and
the truth became clear to her.