I Hope You Find Me (11 page)

Mariah seemed momentarily deflated. Then she
brightened and asked if we could all eat dinner together. Connor,
Zoey and I followed them out into the corridor and we agreed to
meet again by sunset. We watched them open the door to their room
and hurried down the hallway…I couldn’t get out of the hotel fast
enough.

We didn’t speak a word on the elevator, or
when we walked out of the lobby. We stood outside and let the
spotty sunshine warm our faces before Connor directed me to a
pathway lined with palm trees and neatly trimmed Birds Of Paradise
bunched tightly with other tropical plants I didn’t know the names
of. The brown cobblestone walkway curved around the side of the
building and opened up into a cabana style pool area. I gasped in
surprise. From the street, none of what I saw was visible. I didn’t
even know there was a pool tucked away behind the building. I
followed Connor to a covered lounge area and we sat down on rattan
chairs covered with brightly colored canvas fabric. Deep reds,
ocean blues, fresh greens, and lemony yellows danced on the pillows
and seat cushions. A lightly floral and citronella waxy scent
wafted through the air from the open candles that sat neatly on the
table tops nearby.

Zoey dashed happily into the perfectly
planted landscape that surrounded our little private cabana. After
a series of patrols she found the perfect spot to dig and I watched
as clods of soil flew into the air around her. I laughed as she
came up for air, dirt piled neatly in a tiny pyramid on top of her
snout.

“Thanks for bringing me down here.” I sighed,
breathing the air in deeply.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Relaxing.” His chair
squeaked as he shifted around to get comfortable. He plopped his
feet onto a matching rattan footstool the length of a small dining
table.

I leaned into the cushions, sitting sideways
with my feet underneath me. I stretched my sleeves up to my palms
and then tucked my hands under my chin, making myself as small as
possible in an attempt to ignore the coolness in the air. I felt
Connor’s eyes on me.

“Are you cold?” He asked.

“No, I’m good.” I lied, as a chill worked its
way up my legs and arms and tickled along my spine. I smiled at
him, as if that would hide my shiver.

He rose from his seat and crossed the small
distance between us. He tapped my knees with one hand and gestured
for me to move my legs. “Scoot over.” He said to me with a
smile.

I turned my legs and pushed myself over to
the side of the chair as he edged in beside me, and after he put
one arm around my shoulders, he gently pulled me close to him. My
face was just below his so I didn’t dare look up at him.

“Better?” He murmured.

“Mm-hmm.” I didn’t trust myself to speak.

We sat together, watching Zoey dig up the
garden until she found an ideal place to doze in the sun. I had
started to think Connor was asleep too until his hand moved from my
shoulder, down my arm and back up again, slowly rubbing along my
sweatshirt. The friction was warming and I let my head rest on his
chest, just at his collar bone where I could feel his heart
beating. I wanted to freeze that moment and hold onto it, so I
closed my eyes and listened to the steady thump of his heart as my
cheek rose and fell with his chest as he breathed.

Connor raised his hand up to my face and
tucked my hair behind my ear, and slowly trailed his long fingers
down my neck, before returning his hand to my arm again. I fell
asleep curled up next to him some time after, as he caressed my
arm. It was a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

***

When he led her outside he wasn’t sure where
he was going to take her until he started moving. The pathway to
the pool seemed to beckon him, so he moved them in that direction.
He wanted to talk to her, but it seemed right to be quiet for now.
He knew something upset her upstairs, and in her room it was as if
they shared a certain understanding between them. Taking her hand
was a bold move, but he wanted her to know he cared, and he didn’t
have the words to tell her that, at least not yet.

Down by the pool he wanted to hold her close
to him. He wanted to tell her she was safe, he wanted to tell her
not to leave. But instead he held her tighter, tried to warm her
against him and watched as her dog made a mess of the
landscaping.

When he thought she was asleep on his chest
he dared to touch her hair where it had slid forward over her face.
He let his fingertips graze her neck and he felt her adjust
slightly, burrowing against him. He took his hand away and put it
back on her arm, and leaned his head closer to her ear.

“
Who did you lose?” He whispered.

Drowsy, she answered him without opening her
eyes. “My world.”

“
Me too.” He said, as he gently kissed the
top of her head.

CHAPTER SEVEN

We woke up when the sun was past its apex,
and the wind from the impending storm was strong enough to slap the
cabana curtains against our chair with fury. When I opened my eyes
I was looking at a zipper. At first, I couldn’t register what I was
seeing. I mean, I had known what a zipper was for over thirty
years, but this zipper was completely foreign to me and definitely
didn’t belong two inches away from my nose. I was laying on
something soft and warm and blue, and as I blinked the sleep away,
what was underneath me moved. I snapped my head up, and realized it
was Connor’s chest I had been resting on, the zipper belonging to
his pullover sweatshirt.

He was yawning with his eyes shut, and I took
the opportunity to sit up and put some distance between our faces.
Zoey was lying at our feet. She had moved under the cabana after
her siesta by the pool. She sat up and stretched as Connor and I
came to terms independently that we had just slept next to each
other.

I was the first to get up. I stood so quickly
that my head spun, and my vision went blurry and I lost my balance,
bumping into Connor’s legs. He placed a hand on my hip to steady me
and I laughed nervously and suggested we go upstairs and talk about
Matt and Mariah, and driving out east.

Fifteen minutes later we were upstairs,
rinsing the dog off in Connor’s oversized bathtub for the second
time that week. Even with the nap, I was exhausted and overwhelmed.
We tossed all the towels we had used to rub the dog off and wipe
down the bathroom into the washer along with our clothes. I
scrubbed the smell of wet dog off my arms with one of the hotel
scented soaps neatly displayed in a silver bowl on my bathroom
sink. After pulling my hair back into a messy pony tail, I changed
into my tank top and sleep shorts and pulled on one of the hotels
thick, cotton-weaved, white robes while I waited for our clothes to
dry.

When we met in the sitting room, Connor was
barefoot, wearing a pair of his faded blue jeans and a thin white
V-neck shirt that showed off the sleek and smooth definition of his
collarbone. I tried not to stare, but failed, epically. I was
grateful he didn’t talk about our nap outside, because if he had, I
was sure I would have blushed the most unattractive shade of red
possible. So, I lost myself in the kitchen for a while, taking a
mental inventory of the canned goods, bottled water, perishables
and cooking supplies we could use for our journey into the
mountains. The fact was we had more supplies than we could ever
take with us, at least in one trip, especially if we planned to
retrieve the Jeep. It didn’t have a huge amount of storage space,
but at the time that I decided to use it…or more truthfully, at the
time I stole it from my dead neighbors, I wanted something sturdy,
not too large and with good tires. The Jeep would get us there, but
not with all this stuff.

“We should make a list of things we
absolutely need to take with us.” I said out loud to myself. Connor
made me jump a little when he spoke from just behind me.

“You said you have a Jeep?” He asked.

The space around me filled with the scent of
his airy cologne. I breathed it in deeply before answering him.

“Yeah, I only brought my backpack with me
into the City. There’s a bag of dog food in the Jeep and I threw a
few extra pairs of clothes and some boots in there. Oh, a gallon of
water too.” I didn’t turn around when I spoke to him, I didn’t
trust myself so close to him.

“What about taking two vehicles up there?” He
asked, after a pause. He was leaning on the counter now, still just
two feet or so behind me. I could see the sleekness and nakedness
of his arm in my peripheral vision.

“That’s probably a good idea. I was just
thinking of everything we have here.” I finally turned and leaned
against the counter opposite of him. “I mean, we have no idea if
the lodge is stocked with anything. There might be people there
already or it could be completely gutted.”

“We don’t know much, do we?” He smiled and
gazed at me with his crystal blue eyes.

Don’t look at his eyes, Riley, whatever
you do, or you might lose yourself in the blue.
I cleared my
throat softly and glanced around the room, searching for something
else worth commenting on. I couldn’t seem to handle looking at him,
and he couldn’t seem to stop looking at me. I felt like a foolish
teenager with a crush, but it also felt forbidden. I wasn’t ready
or altogether willing, for life to move me along so quickly.
Officially, I had been single for most of the last year. I had
dated one man for a handful of months after my divorce was
finalized but I wasn’t much of a browser. Dating was a challenge
with two young children in tow, finding a man that accepted that
had been hard to find. And unlike my ex-husband, who was working on
girlfriend number three by the time our divorce hit its one year
anniversary; it was hard for me to move on. Really hard. Anything
that happened with Connor made me feel like not only was I cheating
on the dead memory of my ex, but our children as well. I didn’t
like that feeling, it made me sad in places of my heart that I
didn’t know existed.

When I glanced back at Connor, he pushed off
the counter and stepped forward with one of his hands outstretched,
“Riley, look…” He was cut off by a loud knock and Zoey let off a
flurry of barks as she flew off the sofa and darted to the
door.

“I’ll get it.” I said a bit too hurried, and
I felt the slightest touch of his fingers along my cheek as I
slipped past him out of the kitchen and to the door as fast as I
could.

It was Mariah, and she asked what our plans
were for dinner. I told her it was going to be coming from a can or
a bag and she laughed. I invited her and Matt over to eat with us
without asking Connor and she promised to be back soon, with her
brother, as I watched her walk the short distance to the next
suite.

Connor was still in the kitchen and I risked
a quick look in his direction. I couldn’t see his face but his
shoulders were slumped and his head was tilted downward. I knew he
must have been at least a little upset with me, but I didn’t have
the energy for the conversation he seemed so eager to have.

“I hope that was okay.”

“What?” He didn’t look at me.

“Inviting them over, I hope it was okay?” I
watched him carefully. He didn’t make eye contact with me, but
instead moved around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets,
apparently searching for something.

“Oh, sure. Why not?” He said the words
lightly but I felt tension in the air between us.

“I’ll cook, I make a great spaghetti.” I
hoped I hadn’t hurt him.

“Sounds fine,” He said something under his
breath as he rummaged deeper into a cabinet and then loudly
exclaimed, “Ah! There you are!” He set a large unopened bottle of
Bushmills 21 onto the counter with a solid thud and I eyed the
amber liquid with curiosity.

He said half joking, “There were several a
few weeks ago. Now there’s only this one left. The bar downstairs
has a great selection of alcohol though, if you aren’t interested
in this.” He gestured to the bottle.

“It looks expensive.” I told him. Connor
shrugged, and set two glass tumblers down beside the bottle.

“Depends on what you consider expensive.” His
tone was a bit saucy.

“If it’s more than $20, it’s expensive to
me.” I said.

Connor laughed loudly, and said, “Well, it’s
more than $20.”

The most I had spent on alcohol was a $30
bottle of wine I bought as a gift a few years back for a friend. I
couldn’t even properly read the names on the label. I would never
admit that to Connor though.

“Try it, you might like it.” He filled nearly
a quarter of one glass and put only a shot in the second and pushed
it across the counter to me. I picked it up and was surprised at
the weight of the tumbler. I brought the glass to my nose and
inhaled. Connor smiled as he took a sip of his own drink.

“It smells sweet.” I downed the tiny amount
in my glass and thought I had survived it but the smooth citrusy
fluid that first touched my tongue became a burn that rushed down
my throat like lava. I very indecently choked out a gagged cough.
“
Oh my god!
”

Connor rocked back on his heels and laughed.
He took another sip and set his glass down. He popped open a can of
soda and handed it to me, “This will help.”

I took a few large gulps of soda before
asking him, “Is there liquorice in that?!”

“Very good.” He laughed.

I stuck my tongue out at him, “I hate
liquorice…that was nasty.”

“Guess that just leaves more for me.” He
winked and walked away with his glass.

“I think I’ll go downstairs with Mariah later
and look for some wine, because that…” I pointed with exaggeration
at the bottle of Irish Whiskey sitting alone on the pretty marble
counter top that probably had some fancy Italian name I couldn’t
pronounce, “…would kill me.”