Footsteps (44 page)

~oOo~

When Carlo got home that evening, the house
smelled like dinner preparations had not gone well. Trey was
sitting in Pop-Pop’s chair, a big Richard Scarry book open in his
lap. He didn’t get up, but he dropped the book and wrinkled his
nose. “We had a fire and now we get PIZZA!”

Carlo dropped his portfolio at the side of
the hall tree. “A fire?”

“Yeah. The teeny turkeys made a fire.
Pop-Pop put it out.” He went back to his book, blasé about the
whole apparent cataclysm, and Carlo went quickly down the hall and
ducked his head into the kitchen.

The windows and back door were open, the fan
was on, and smoke was wafting out of the room. Definitely a fire.
His father was scraping black chunks about the size of his fist off
a baking sheet and into the garbage, and Bina was fluttering around
waving a towel through the air. Elsa was standing on the patio,
watching the frenzy through the open door, her head cocked.

“Hi?”

She looked over and, when she saw him,
blushed, her golden skin turning russet. “Oh, Carlo. I’m a
disaster.”

“What happened?”

His father chuckled. “The game hens got away
from her a little. We’re all set, though.”

“Game hens?”

She blushed an even deeper shade. “There was
a sale. They were cute.”

Carlo laughed, and once he started, the
hilarity mounted until he was doubled over, clutching his
stomach.

“You laugh at me!”

“Oh, yeah,” he gasped. “I’m laughing right
at you. This is like an
I Love Lucy
moment. It’s perfect. A
family story for sure. You cremated the cute, discount game hens.”
Another spasm of laughter overtook him. “Oh, God. I’m dying.” His
father caught the bug then, and Bina was surrounded by howling
Paganos.

She hit him with the towel. “See if I cook
for you again ever.”

Getting himself under control, he grabbed
the towel as it came at him again, and he pulled her to him. “Aw,
baby. I’ll eat anything you cook.”

“Be careful, Mr. Smart Pants, or I’ll take
from the bin a cute hen and put it on a plate for you. With a
parsley sprig.” She was smiling, and he kissed her. She tasted a
little of smoke.

“Don’t get lovey or you’ll ruin my
appetite,” his father grumbled, grinning. “We got pizza coming. I
opened a good wine before the excitement, so we’ll do our slices up
fancy.”

After dinner, Carlo asked his father to put
Trey to bed, and he took Bina down to the beach. She loved to walk
along the beach at night, and so did he. Especially now, after the
season, on a weekday evening in September, before the weather had
turned too cold, an evening walk along the tideline was among the
most relaxing, peaceful things he could think to do. It had always
seemed to Carlo that the beach at night made a kind of contentment
that he could almost literally taste. It lingered on his tongue—the
salt of the sea, the cool wet of the moon-brightened air, the musk
of the sand. It was a peace that sustained.

They had the place to themselves. Carmen was
home, and she waved at them through her living room window, but she
knew not to intrude on their evening. They’d stop in on their way
back to the car.

Bina was dressed in a bulky fisherman
sweater and snug jeans, with little white sneakers on her feet. Her
hair was caught back in a simple ponytail, and tendrils had come
loose in the sea breeze. He had changed from his suit to vastly
more comfortable jeans and a thermal tee under a flannel shirt, his
favorite Timberlands on his feet. Not beach shoes, really, but the
boots kept the sand out.

As they walked, he told her about his visit
with Joey. She seemed to have taken a keen interest in his little
brother; he figured that going through what they had together had
forged a bond between them. She had said a few things, too, that
made Carlo believe that perhaps Joey had confided in her in a way
he had not with his brothers and sisters. He didn’t mind; in fact,
he was glad of it. He knew he had not been there for Joey the way
Joey had needed. Maybe none of them had. So if Bina could be a
support for him, then Carlo was thrilled about it.

He told her, too, about his meetings in the
city—Natalie had of course refused to move her life to Quiet Cove,
but she’d given him some names of people she recommended. People
who were qualified to help Joey complete his recovery and who lived
in the area.

And work. He talked at length about work.
This job was going so perfectly, Carlo could hardly believe it. He
was beginning to wait for the reality check, because so far,
working with Connelly was a dream. She asked about the upcoming
announcement event, and he heard the hint of nervousness in her
voice.

“I mean it honestly, Bina. I will understand
if you don’t want to go with me. The media will be all over you,
and there won’t be much I can do about it.”

“No. This is important for you. I want to be
there. Only…may I choose my dress? Do you mind what I wear?”

The question surprised him—it confused him.
It would never, never have occurred to him to even wonder what
she’d wear, much less decide it for her. “Yeah, of course. Wear
what you like.” As he was speaking, he understood that Auberon must
have dressed her. Jesus, that guy was unbelievable.

Bina smirked, and that surprised him, too.
“Good. I was thinking I should like to earn the media’s notice, if
you don’t mind that.”

“You minx! You’re going to tart up, aren’t
you?” He laughed.

“Do you mind?”

“God, no. Wear pasties and a fig leaf for
all I care. Go for it. Shock the hell out of everybody.” What he
was thinking was that he was going to be the most reviled man at
that damn party, because whatever she wore, he would have the
absolutely most beautiful woman in New England on his arm—and he
would also be the man of the hour. James Auberon, down in his fiery
hole in Hell, could suck a bag of dicks.

They’d walked for quite a while, talking,
and as they crested a steep rise, over a cluster of large,
wave-rounded rocks, Bina stopped, pulling lightly on his hand. He
turned to her and saw her staring at a point up ahead. He swiveled
back and saw her old beach house in the distance. Auberon’s house.
It was vibrant with light.

They had not walked so far together since
that first night.

He stepped back and put his arm around her
waist. “You okay?”

She took a deep breath. “Yes. Only—there are
memories. They hurt.”

He pulled her closer, and she let him tuck
her to his chest. The house had sold quickly, but she had seen no
proceeds from it. She’d taken only the bags she’d had with her, and
those, Auberon’s attorney had had brought to her.

The last time she’d been in that house, the
last time she’d even seen it, Auberon had hurt her badly. Carlo
tightened his hold on her as that comprehension completed. “Bina. I
love you so much.”

She turned her head and kissed his chest,
her lips on his thermal shirt. “I would like to accept the offer
you made me. The one I kept safe. I’m ready now, I think.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He wanted to be absolutely certain that they
were talking about the same thing. “You’ll marry me?”

She looked up, and the moonlight caught her
eyes and made them sparkle. “Yes. I would very much like that.”

“God, baby. So would I. I love you. I love
you.” Before she could reply, he took her face in his hands and
kissed her. She tasted like moonlight and the sea.

~oOo~

They spent about half an hour with Carmen
and then went back to the house. It was dark; Trey was asleep, and
Carlo’s father had, as usual, retired, probably not long after he
got Trey down. His work days started before dawn.

Elsa came to the top of the stairs as they
entered the house. Once she was satisfied that only her people had
come in, she huffed a weary greeting and then went back to Trey’s
room.

They went up, and Carlo went in to check on
his boy. He was sleeping peacefully, his arms and legs wrapped
around the big stuffed shark Uncle Ben and Aunt Angie had given
him. There was a paper stuck on his new bulletin board, and Carlo
went over and looked at it—his first school paper—a worksheet of
some sort. Printed across the top was the title “I am Me,” which
seemed to Carlo a pretty dumb title. There was a large oval in the
middle of the sheet, which had obviously been blank when the papers
had been handed out. Trey had drawn himself, using the oval as his
head. In the background, around the head, he’d made several sharks,
a big brown dog, and three stick people grouped together, one a
female, with long brown hair, one a larger male, with black hair
that stuck out oddly (thanks, Trey), and a small male with yellow
hair. Behind that group of three were six others—four males and two
females, with black or brown hair. His family.

Under the drawings were several lines. The
first line started with the printed words, ‘My name is….’ He’d
written ‘Trey’ in fairly steady letters. Under that line was were
four others, the first one of which started, ‘Things I like.’

Trey liked, ‘SRKS,’ ‘LSE,’ and then a few
lines that just weren’t letters, at least none that Carlo could
make out. He chuckled and pinned the paper back in its place of
honor.

When he got back to his room, Bina was in
bed. Her hair was loose, and she was naked, sitting up against the
headboard, the comforter and sheet loose around her waist. Sweet
Jesus, she was beautiful, her breasts full and tipped with dark
nipples. The ends of her hair curled just at the point where her
skin began to darken. He fucking
loved
finding her in bed
like this, waiting for him.

Carlo closed the door. “Hi, baby.”

“Trey is asleep?”

“Very.”

She held out her hand. “Come to bed.”

He stripped fast and went to her. As he
climbed in at her side, she turned away from him and looked over
her shoulder. Oh, yeah. It was wonderful to take her from behind
like this, when he could get to all of her, fill his hands with her
and make her feel him everywhere. With a growl rumbling deep in his
throat, he pulled her down and shoved her leg up. He pushed into
her slick, ready heat and then wrapped his arms around her, filling
her, feeling full of her. He buried his face in her luxurious hair.
And then he simply was still, letting them feel each other. She
swelled in his arms with every breath.

“I love you,” she whispered.

He sucked lightly on her shoulder. “I’ll end
my days making you happy. I swear it.”

“And I you.” She rocked back, taking him
more completely into her, and he groaned and thrust forward. They
picked up a rhythm with which they had become expert together, and
Carlo ran one hand over her firm belly and between her legs. She
sighed deeply, erotically, and brought her arms up over her head,
reaching back to bury her fingers in his hair and hold him
close.

They went slowly, feeling each thrust, each
throb as a distinct moment. Carlo was completely at ease and at
peace, at home in this house, in this bed, inside this woman. He
buried himself in her and let that contentment, which he had not
known before he’d known her, sweep him up in its wake.

It was Bina who first changed their tone. He
felt it happen, her body tensing, when before she had lain supple
and open. Her breath changed, her deep, slow inhales becoming gasps
that went out on little whimpers. He flexed the hand that had been
gently cupping her sex, and the one that had tenderly held her
breast, and she spasmed sharply. The time of languid coupling had
passed. Without pulling from her, Carlo rolled, pushing her flat
onto the bed, and then drawing her hips up as he rose onto his
knees. Moaning, she pushed her elbows under to bring herself up
higher.

And then he fucked the daylights out of her,
slamming into her in a growing frenzy. She grunted with each impact
until she clutched a pillow to her face and screamed into it, her
core closing so tightly around him that he thought the pressure
would undo him completely. He came hard enough to find the limit of
pleasure. And then he collapsed on her, and her knees gave. They
landed in a tangled, wet heap.

After a moment, Bina, still breathless,
lifted her head and looked back at him. Her hair was over her face,
but through that curtain he could see her sparkling eyes and lovely
smile. “I like the way you make me happy,” she purred.

He chuckled, feeling his cock thrum inside
her, and kissed her nose. “Me, too.”

A couple of days before Joey came home,
Carlo, Luca, and John moved furniture around, setting up the
guestroom for him so that he didn’t have to go up the stairs until
he was stronger and had easier breath. Then Carmen and Sabina went
about making the room pleasant and homey for him. He was still not
strong enough to be on his feet for long, so he would, for a few
weeks at least, be spending a lot of time within those walls.

That day, while the men had gone en masse to
the hardware store—Sabina had found it amusing that they’d all
gone, when all they were after were anchors of some kind—the nurse
therapist Carlo had hired part-time to take care of Joey came by,
to give her approval of the way they’d set things up and to make
suggestions about foods to have in the house, and a few other
things. Sabina was shocked when she’d answered a knock at the front
door and seen a slender, blonde, lovely young woman wearing navy
scrub pants and a pretty, floral scrub top that had a wrap-around
effect. Much prettier than the kinds of clothes Sabina expected
nurses to wear. In fact, she didn’t see the outfit as anything but
a pantsuit when she first opened the door.