I blink myself fully awake, then smile. Yes.
The phone rings. "Good lord, woman, can't a man get any rest around you?"
"Rise and shine."
Her tone is light, but I can sense some tension running underneath. "Are you all right?"
She hesitates. "I'm fine. Just tired … and I miss you."
"Miss you, too." I make a face even though she can't see me. "I wish you hadn't called your foster parents. We could've spent the night together, then surprised them tomorrow."
I hear nothing but the sound of her slow breathing for a minute. "Probably a bad idea," she says finally. "They hate surprises."
"Even if the surprise is good?"
"Even then."
There is a hint of listlessness in her voice that's making my scalp prickle. "Did something happen?"
"No." She sounds genuinely confused. "Why do you ask?"
Damn. So if that's not it, then what? She seemed fine on the flight home. God, I'd give my left foot to have her with me right now, so I could look into her eyes and make sure she's really all right. I hate having the feeling that something's going on, but not being able to act on it, make things better for her.
Suddenly I'm not certain that bringing her home was such a great idea. I didn't factor her foster parents in. They weren't much of a presence two or three years ago, and I assumed it would be the same again.
"Hoping for a reason to get you to come over," I say finally, deciding to make a joke of it, rather than get really serious when she's too far away to hold in my arms.
She snorts, then giggles quietly. "You're awful."
"If by 'awful' you mean 'desperately horny', then yes … "
"Are you? Horny?"
"Yeah. But the real problem is I miss having you by my side," I answer honestly. Being with her, just holding her hand and sitting in silence, is incomparably preferable to an orgasm … unless I'm climaxing with her.
"I miss you, too."
I can hear the smile in her voice, and it loosens another bit of my tension. "Listen, are your foster parents going to insist on being old-fashioned about us?"
"Maybe. They know how things fell apart between us. They're worried."
Jesus. Protective parents. I'm grateful she has them, but I have zero experience dealing with them. My dates' parents didn't care since they were more concerned with my money-which is why I mentioned my plane to Ray, although he didn't seem that impressed-and my parents … Well, they don't exactly qualify for any conscientious caregiver awards.
"If they're worried, they can always talk to me."
"They just might."
"Good."
I'd love a chance to explain myself, let them know things aren't going to be like before. Mentally I pencil that in on my calendar for tomorrow. Then I decide my weekend is empty. If it's not empty, Rachael can make it empty.
"I'll be there tomorrow to say hello."
"And try to seduce me while you're at it?"
"Sure, why not? Getting naked with you is my new purpose in life. If your folks happen to be in the same room, well … "
She chuckles. "Is that all you ever think about?"
"If I were to create a diagram of what's in my head, you'd occupy ninety-five percent."
"What's taking up the other five?"
"Breathing. Eating. Occasional personal hygiene. Remembering how to tie my shoes."
She laughs. "Please. Are you telling me only five percent of your brain was needed to make your fortune?"
I'm quiet for a moment. "You know about that?"
"Of course. I Googled you after … you know. That was pretty impressive."
"Well … I didn't know you then. So I was able to free up more of my brain. I'm lucky we didn't meet until after I made my money. I wouldn't be able to spoil you."
"You don't need money to spoil me, Lucas. All you need to bring is yourself."
And just like that, she makes my heart so full it aches.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she murmurs.
I swallow the lump in my throat. I place a hand over my chest, wishing she were here so I could grasp her before she vanishes. "Good night, sweetheart."
"Dream of me."
"Always."
Long after the line cuts off, I keep the phone to my ear so I can pretend we're still connected.
* * *
Lucas
Harsh winds whip the grass, combing the field this way and that. The cliff juts over dark, churning water, and far beyond my right is an olive tree. Its branches are barren of fruit. What olives that fell, are all gone.
Black clouds move over the ocean, the briny air charged with electricity. My left leg aches as I brace the wind and march forward.