Chapter ４

I almost jump in my seat when a cup of coffee is set in front of Leonid with a little too much force.

My boyfriend sits back and thanks his father.

“So you’ve met,” he says after a big swig.

“Yes,” I say and try to tell myself I don’t have to feel guilty about chatting with his dad. Although the way my body reacted to him was definitively wrong. Something is wrong with me. I’ve never reacted that way to Leonid, not even when we’ve been making out. And even now, when Leonid is sitting next to me with only shorts and a tight tank on, showing off his fabulously toned athlete’s body, it’s still fully clothed Romanmy eyes drift to. “Your father has been telling me about the marina and a walk up to the Styke’s viewpoint.”

Leonid rolls his eyes.

“I’m sure he has. My dad always has the most exciting ideas.”

I look at Machel, afraid that he’ll take offense at Leonid’s mocking tone. But he just lifts an eyebrow at his son.

“Well, I thought it sounded great. I’d love to do that,” I rush to say. And I mean it too.

Perhaps Leonid doesn’t want to hurt my feelings, as his tone is normal when he replies, “Sure, we can, some time. We’re here for three weeks. But not today. I’ve arranged for us to meet up with Georgiaand play some ball this afternoon. He’s convinced he can still beat me in basketball even though he hasn’t played since leaving school.”

“Really?” I say and laugh. “Leonid became the second highest point scorer on his team this season,” I tell his dad. Romanis proud of his son’s achievements, that much is clear, and the two of them talk sports for a while until Romanyawns.

“I’m sorry, I need to get a few hours’ sleep. I’ve been up all night.”

“Oh, did I keep you up with all my questions?” I ask, feeling bad.

“Not at all. I enjoyed our conversation very much,” he says slowly. The way his hazel eyes are taking me in makes me believe it.

That surge in my stomach is back.

5MachelI love the early mornings—this quiet intermission before life hits you in the face. I’m a loner. I always have been. I like my own company, my projects—tinkering on my boat or fixing up my house. I volunteer as a handyman at the nursing home, fixing whatever needs to be done and then having coffee and a chat with the residents. Then I go home, make a meal for one, and enjoy a beer and the view from my garden, feeling happy. I don’t need a woman by my side. After things went down the drain with Leonid’s mom—not that it was ever far from the drain in the first place—I had a few girlfriends. But God, it was hard work. Too much work just to secure some regular access to sex. Now, I might hook up with some random woman when I’m out of town for business, but never anyone local—this town is way too small for one-night stands. The rest of the time, my right hand does a damned good job when combined with some select internet sites.

While scanning the horizon, I take a deep lungful of air and let it out with a contented sigh. Solitude really is underrated. I can’t think of anything worse than having to adjust to another person’s habits or schedule, feeling guilty whenever I want to spend time on my own. Like during my precious morning solitude.

“Good morning, Machel.”

I quickly turn and see Arlene standing in the doorway to the patio. I haven’t seen her since yesterday morning. They were gone when I woke up from my nap and hadn’t come back yet when I went to bed for the night.

“Arlene! You’re up early. I didn’t even hear you two come home last night.”

She steps onto the deck. The sunshine is playing with the blond and brown tones of her hair, and it brings out all the shades of blue in her eyes.

Thankfully, she’s dressed this morning.

“I don’t tend to sleep in.”

“Did you have a good night?”

Her eyes turn distant. Avoiding my gaze, she takes in the horizon that I’d just been admiring.

“Georgiaand Leonid were playing basketball for a while. Then we went to a party.” She laughs quietly. “There seem to be a lot of parties here.”

I don’t push her with more questions; I don’t need to—her lack of enthusiasm tells me all I need to know. “What are you doing today?” I ask instead.

“I—I don’t know yet. I was hoping maybe to go for a walk. Are there any walks I can do from the house?”

The quiet desperation in her voice breaks my heart. She turns her blue gaze to me, and I find I’m choked up when I say, “Let’s go.”

“Sorry?”

“You’ve got your tennis shoes on. What are you waiting for?” I smile and step onto the lawn.

“What?” She laughs, her eyes suddenly alive with joy. “Like, right now?”

My smile just spreads wider, and she laughs happily while eagerly following me down into the garden.

“Don’t you have to work?” she asks when I guide her through the small gate in the hedge.

“I’m always up long before I have to leave for work. I’ve got time for a walk.”

The small path below my house joins a bigger path where we have to climb over a fence. It’s not too high, and I easily scale it, as I have a hundred times before. It’s not that easy for Arlene—she’s wearing a skirt. She throws one slender leg over the top bar, and her skirt rides all the way up her thigh. I stop breathing. She throws her other leg over. I see a glimpse of white cotton undies. Innocent, crisp, white cotton undies.

Oh my God.

All the blood in my body rushes south. I quickly turn away from her. I’d been doing so well this morning, keeping any sexy thoughts away from her. But now they’re all flooding back. On a shaky exhale, I start telling her about the area, just to distract myself.

I feel more in control when, after about ten minutes, I lead us off the path and onto an overgrown trail. Another few minutes and the trees surrounding us open up to an expansive view of the bay. I don’t know if she notices, but Arlene grabs my arm as she stops, looking at the view in wonder.

“Machel,” she whispers, her voice binding me to her like her fingers around my arm. “It’s spectacular. The blue…the green…”

“Yes, it’s beautiful,” I reply quietly. Her cheeks are rosy, her eyes twinkling.

“To have all this on your doorstep.” Her lips are parted.

“Yes, to have all this, so close.”

She looks up at me, and I blink a few times before I manage to get out of my funk. Damn, what’s going on with me? I clear my throat and force myself to look away from her.

“That’s Marlock’s beach,” I point out. “And up there, that’s Styke’s viewpoint.”