Beautiful Burn(25)

“Sounds like grandma is pretty great.”

“She is.” The smile that lit her face made it perfectly clear why she'd come home to spend the summer helping her. “She reads everything I write. She even loves the steamy parts.”Auburn winked and I couldn't help the chuckle that fell from my lips.

“I think I need to read these steamy parts.”

“You have to work for the steamy bits.” She shot me a sexy, half grin before leaving the room. “Do you want anything?” she called. “Water, beer, orange juice?”

“I'm going to make you a bookshelf!” I called in reply.

“What?” She handed me a bottle of water when she returned.

“You have so many books, I don't think this thing could stand much more weight. ” I wiggled the feeble shelf stacked high with thick volumes.

“I don't need a new book shelf.”

“It's not a big deal. I made custom bookcases for our house, crown molding and everything. I’ll make you something.” I assessed the available wall space. Measurements were already flying through my head.

“You’re not making me anything.” She set her water down on the table and straightened a pile of books.

“I like to do it. Helps me get my mind off things.”

“I generally prefer other forms of distraction.” She trailed a dainty fingertip up my forearm.

“I think I'd like to hear about these other forms...” I swiveled and ran a hand along the smooth skin of her neck.

She shivered and a pretty smile split her lips. “Stay tonight and I'll show you.”

“There's no where else I'd rather be.” I murmured and wove my fingers into her hair, pulling her face to mine and covering her lips with my own. Her fingers ran up my arms to tangle in my hair as she pressed her body against mine and kissed me with a passion that destroyed me.

My hands slipped down her waist to grip her thighs and I lifted her into my arms. With her legs locked around my waist I headed for the hallway at the opposite end of the room, anxious to lose myself in her arms again.





nine


Meet me at the cherry orchard off of West Bay road in an hour.

I sent her the email before tucking my phone in my pocket and unloading the stuff I’d brought with me to make this night extra special.

Waking up with Auburn's dark hair twisted around my pillow and her elegant arm draped over my chest had been the perfect start to my day. Making omelets with her had been the most fun I'd had on a Saturday morning in a long time, and sharing coffee with her while the sun's golden rays filtered through her kitchen window felt right.

This was it. I knew it. I felt it. There was no going back. I couldn't stay away anymore and I was sick to death of fighting what I wanted to do versus what I should do. In the eyes of people in our small town we'd face cataclysmic judgment, but fuck if I couldn't stay away.

My phone buzzed with her reply.

Okay.

That was it. Short and to the point, never one to overcomplicate or ask too many questions. With Auburn, what you saw was what you got. No drama, just a sense of living life by the moment and making it so beautiful it's worth remembering. Her easygoing, carefree take on life had rubbed off on me.

Text me when you get here. I’ll be waiting.

I replied, including my phone number at the end of the email, before unloading the little two-person table and chairs I’d brought, set out wine and water and placed the picnic basket next to my chair, and then I waited. Heavy with the scent of sweet grass and cherries, I sucked in deep lungfuls of the humid air and let my mind wander.

I'd been keeping Mel pushed to the far corners of my mind of late. It wasn't hard to do when I was losing myself so much in Auburn, but it was time to drop the denial and work on creating the life I wanted. A life that included Auburn.

When I'd promised my hand to Mel in marriage the spring I turned twenty-two, fresh out of college and ready to conquer the world, I'd meant it. We bought the house, she finished the last year of her bachelor's in teaching, and I started as the new english teacher at Sutton's Bay High. Two years passed, and Mel was forced to take a substitute job until something permanent opened up. I worked and she waited, continuing to get more irritable, more resentful. She began to talk about moving out of state for work, I began to talk about getting my Masters and even moving on to my PhD to teach at the college level.

For six years I gave Mel everything. I gave her all of me until there was nothing left to give, and still, it hadn't been enough. We went from sleepy Saturday mornings over coffee to hurling insults I hoped neither of us meant. Despite a year of fighting and a year of therapy on top of that, we grew further apart. The death of the dream had hurt more than leaving, I just didn’t know who I was when I was with her anymore.