Every Breath(29)

“It’s better if it surprises you. You’ll know what to do.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will.”

She could tell by his expression that she’d aroused his curiosity. “I was planning to go fishing tomorrow. As long as I can find some bait, that is.”

“They’ll have bait at the pier shop, but you can do both,” she assured him. “I think low tide is around four in the afternoon.”

“I’ll think about it. What’s on your agenda tomorrow?”

“Hair and nails for the wedding. And I want to find a new pair of shoes. Girl stuff.”

He nodded before taking another sip of wine, and another simple calm descended. They rocked in easy synchronicity for a while, admiring the glorious night sky. But when she caught herself stifling a yawn, she knew it was time for him to go. By then, he’d finished his wine, and again, he seemed to know exactly what she was thinking.

“I should probably head back,” he said. “It’s been a long day. Thank you for the wine.”

She knew it was the right thing, but nonetheless felt a faint stab of disappointment as well. “Thank you for dinner.”

He handed her his glass before making his way toward the gate. She left the glasses on the table and trailed behind him. At the gate, he paused and turned. She could almost feel the energy emanating from him, but when he spoke, his voice was soft.

“You’re an incredible woman, Hope,” he said. “And I trust that things will work out with you and Josh. He’s a lucky man.”

His words caught her off guard, but she knew he’d meant them in a kind way, without judgment or expectation.

“We’ll be fine, I’m sure,” she said, as much to herself as to him.

Pulling open the gate, he started down the steps. Hope followed him, stopping at the halfway point. Crossing her arms, she watched as he reached the walkway and headed for the beach. When he was a quarter of the way there, he turned and waved. She waved back, and when he was a bit farther away, she finally retraced her steps to the deck. She grabbed the glasses and brought them to the sink before padding to the bedroom.

She undressed and stood before the mirror. Her first thought was that she really needed to lose a few pounds, but overall, she was content with her appearance. Of course, it would have been great to have the kind of lithe body that graced fitness magazines, but she just wasn’t built that way, and never had been. Even as a girl, she’d always found herself wishing that she were a few inches taller, or even as tall as either of her sisters.

And yet, as she stared at her reflection, she thought about the way that Tru had looked at her, his interest in whatever she was saying, and the compliments he’d given her about her appearance. She missed basking in a man’s obvious attraction to her, without recognizing it as simply a prelude to sex. Even as she tried to sort through her feelings, she knew it was a dangerous way of thinking.

Turning from the mirror, she went to the bathroom and washed her face. After removing the elastic band she’d used for her ponytail, she ran a brush through her hair so it wouldn’t be knotted in the morning. Moving to her suitcase, she pulled out a pair of pajamas before hesitating. Tossing them back into her suitcase, she went to the closet and retrieved an extra blanket instead.

She hated being cold at night, and slipping naked beneath the covers, she closed her eyes, feeling sensual and strangely content.





SUNRISE AND SURPRISES




Tru ambled past Hope’s cottage the following morning, carrying the tackle box, with a fishing pole over his shoulder. He looked over, noting that the paint had begun to peel on a lot of the trim and some of the railings were rotting away, but thinking again that it suited him better than the house where he was staying. That one was too big and definitely too modern, and he still couldn’t figure out how to work the coffee machine. Even a single cup would have been nice, but he supposed it simply wasn’t meant to be.

It was an hour past dawn, and he wondered whether Hope was awake. In the morning glare, it was impossible to tell if any lights were on, but there was no sign of her on the deck. He thought about her boyfriend and shook his head, wondering what the man was thinking. Despite a life spent mostly in the bush, even Tru knew that the wedding of a close friend pretty much mandated attendance on the boyfriend’s part. It didn’t matter how well they were getting along, or even if they were temporarily on the outs, as she’d put it.

Despite himself, he found himself imagining how she looked in the morning before getting herself ready for the day. Even with hair askew and puffy eyes, she’d still be beautiful. Some things just couldn’t be hidden. When she smiled, there was a gentle light about her, and it was easy to get lost in that accent of hers. There was something soft and rolling to it, like a lullaby, and when she’d been recounting stories about Ellen or telling him about the manatee, he’d felt like he could have listened to her forever.

Despite an overcast sky, the morning was warmer than it had been the day before, and the humidity had increased. The breeze, too, had picked up, all of which meant that Hope had been right about the possibility of storms this weekend. In the days leading up to rain in Zimbabwe, the air had a pregnant charge that felt much the same.

There were already half a dozen men fishing from the pier by the time he started toward the steps, and he watched as one began to reel something in. It was too far away to make out any detail, but he took it as a good sign. He doubted whether he’d keep anything he caught; there was too much food in the refrigerator as it was. Nor was he in the mood to clean anything, especially since the knife in the tackle box seemed dull. But catching something was always a thrill.