Back to You (7 page)

“This is a great song,” she told John. “What is it?” she asked, still getting lost in the beat, and the deep gravely voice seducing her.

“It’s Bob Dylan,” John told her, “Don’t you remember it?” he asked, with a surprised expression. “Your dad always listened to it.”

Yes, her father had been a big Dylan fan. John was doing it again, bringing back memories of her father, not only with his mere presence, but now, also with his choice of music and his words.

“If you really want to hear this song, close your eyes,” he suggested with a hint of a smile – that sexy smile, the one which did things to her. “It’s a ‘close your eyes’ kind of song.”

She shifted in her seat, “I’m sure it’s almost over.”

“Well, it’s almost seven minutes long,” he told her. “But here…” he said, with the simple click of a button, he started the song over.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered.

“John, this… this is silly,” she stammered.

“Do it,” he pressed. “I’m the one driving.”

She did as she was told; stretched back on the leather seat, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the rhythmic sounds and the slight up and down motion of the truck going over the road leading to her house. She felt her body relax and a smile came to her face as she listened to the folk song about lost love. She listened intently. The song was clearly about a woman who held a power over a man – a temptress, a turbulent woman who had a strong hold of him. But as Sophie listened, the lyrics became darker – about caskets and tombs, and death. She was surprised – she had thought this was a love song.

As she listened to the end of the song, she could still feel the rhythm of the music, but the vibrations from the road had stopped. They had been motionless for a while.

She could feel John’s eyes on her. It was strange – her eyes were closed, yet she was sure he was looking at her. The lyrics and the sounds of the song slowly disappeared from her mind, and all she could sense was him. She slowly opened her eyes.

John had taken off his seat belt and he was watching her – his eyes darker than she had ever seen them. His expression was foreign – gone were the playful joking smiles she was so used to seeing.

He inched slowly toward her, not taking his eyes off her. She found herself paralyzed – with anticipation, fear, even apprehension perhaps. She knew something was going to happen between them – but they couldn’t be doing this.

He leaned into her and snapped her seat belt loose. She wasn’t sure what he was doing but she certainly wanted to find out. He cupped her face, the rough texture of his hands sending shivers through her spine, his eyes looking right into her for what seemed an eternity.

And then finally… he slowly pressed his lips against hers. He kissed her gently. She reciprocated, delighting in the sensation of his lips on hers. Gone were all her inhibitions – she was lost in his kiss.

His soft kiss soon became uninhibited and fierce – his tongue feverishly searching hers, his mouth travelling to the edge of her jaw, and biting, and back again to her lips. She abandoned all her reasonable thoughts and lost herself in it, the wildness of it. His kiss shocked her senses – it was untamed, rough and… crazy. She was powerless to stop him, having the complete desire to drown into him. She had never enjoyed a kiss so much in her entire existence.

His hands travelled over her breasts and her stomach with a sense of urgency, and pulled at the fabric of her top. His surprising behavior both pleased her and frightened her. She wasn’t sure how far he was willing to take this. She wasn’t even sure she could stop him – she knew he would stop if she asked him – she just didn’t have the resolve to do so. She let her hands wander over his belt buckle and felt the warm tight skin of his stomach.

She wanted him. He would have to stop her, because she wouldn’t stop him.

John’s resolve had melted completely. Like the woman in the song, Sophie had lured him, possessed him, and seduced him. Watching her… with her eyes closed, was more than he could bear – she looked so peaceful, so beautiful – a true modern day ‘Snow White’ – those long lashes slightly fluttering, and those lips…

He had lost his senses, and all he had wanted in that moment was her. He had wanted to be with her more than any single thing he had ever wanted. He hadn’t expected to kiss her the way he did, but her response to him had pulled him deeper – she had become as wild as he was.

His hand instinctively travelled to the jeweled button on the fly of her pink jeans, and he unbuckled it with a swift move of his fingers.

This was too easy – she clearly wanted him as much as he wanted her.

He had told himself he wouldn’t go there. He wouldn’t let her hurt him again – love him and leave him. He wouldn’t give her that power. There was no way he could let this go further – no matter how much he wanted her.

John abruptly stopped and pulled away. Sophie could tell he was as breathless as she was.

“Do you realize,” he breathed, trying to compose himself, “we’re sitting in your mother’s driveway,’ he whispered, with that mischievous smile she was beginning to hate.

“Uh… you’re right,” she replied, fixing her hair awkwardly, fiddling with her jean button, her fingers shaking. He was absolutely right – this was insane.

“I think I saw someone peeking through the window,” he added seriously.

“Oh no,” she shrieked in horror. What had she been thinking? Making out in a truck in her mother’s front driveway, where anyone could have seen her – her mother, Jesse… She swore she would never let this happen again.

“I’m joking,” he said, laughing at her expense. The old John was back.

“It’s not funny,” she scolded. She couldn’t believe he was making light of this.

“It is… a little bit,” he argued.

“I’m sorry, I got carried away,” she said as she fiddled nervously with the car handle.

“I think
I’m
the one who got carried away,” he pointed out with a wink.

God… the man was going to drive her insane.

“Well, I shouldn’t have let it go that far,” she told him plainly as she opened the car door.

Sophie could barely stand on her feet as she exited the truck, her legs unsteady, wobbly even. Never, at any time of her existence, had she ever been so thoroughly kissed.

Chapter 8

SOPHIE sat on her bed, clutching her bottle of water, slowly regaining feeling in her legs. She had been starving when they were driving back, but now her appetite was completely gone. She was numb.

She could hear John fiddling in the kitchen downstairs, going in and out.

“Snow…” he called out.

She hurried down the stairs to the kitchen, “Yes… what is it?”

“I’m going to make myself a sandwich if that’s okay,” he told her. “I’m pretty hungry. I forgot my lunch.”

“Sure, help yourself,” she said. Apparently, unlike her, he hadn’t completely lost his appetite.

“Do you want me to make you one?”

“Uh… no thank you,” she said plainly, looking at all the boxes around her. John had brought in all the supplies they had bought.

Apparently, according this his nonchalance, nothing had changed. The kiss appeared to have never happened, judging from the looks of him. They were obviously not talking about it.

“The flooring will be delivered in a day or so,” he told her, grabbing a few staples from the refrigerator. “We’ll get started on the kitchen next Monday or Tuesday when we get the cabinetry in,” he went on, spreading some mustard on bread. “That’s the beauty of not going custom,” he continued, “fast and cheap.”

Sophie couldn’t have cared less about the kitchen. She wanted to talk about the kiss… about the two of them.

“Your kitchen will be out of commission for a few days though.”

“We’ll just go to town to eat,” she said plainly. If he could act like he didn’t care, she could too.

“You could always come over to my house,” he suggested, with a hint of a smile, pouring himself a glass of water.

Her heart did a little flip.

“We could do that,” she said, her mind instantly going to where it shouldn’t go.

His sandwich was starting to look good – the nerves in her stomach had settled a little.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he said between bites.

What? About the kiss?

“I’m taking Paige to the Oceanarium next Friday,” he started, “and I was wondering if you and Jesse would like to tag along.”

“Uh… sure,” she said, surprised by his invitation. She was delighted with the idea. She had officially decided to stop trying to avoid him – he was part of her life, and that was that. And she wanted another one of those amazing kisses – a kiss like that was more powerful than common sense.

“I thought it would be fun for Jesse,” he told her, “and the kids could get to know each other.”

“Good idea.”

“Where is he anyway?” he asked, looking around.

“My mother was taking him to town. I think he wanted to go to the library.”

“She’s been great with him.”

“Yes. They get along famously. She’s like a live-in babysitter,” she told him. “It’s been great actually. I think she’s helping with his whole situation.”

“What situation,” he asked, suddenly concerned.

“Well… you know,” she said softly, “his father’s death.”

“Oh… I’m sorry. I’m an idiot,” he apologized, flustered. “I should have clued in.”

“It’s fine…”

“How’s he been doing?”

“Well, it’s just that it has affected him. He’s been withdrawn, acting out at school, and dealing with bullies as a result,” she confided. “The whole thing’s a big mess actually.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea,” he told her. “He seems like a relatively happy kid.”

She smiled. “He is when he’s with you,” she confessed, her eyes tearing up. “Thank you for working on that model plane with him, by the way. He had so much fun.” She was getting too emotional, and she consciously reined herself in.

He took another bite of his sandwich “I did too.”

All this was getting to her. He was getting to her. She loved how John was with Jesse, and she loved seeing Jesse so happy. But this closeness, this new friendship wasn’t good. They would be leaving soon, and Jesse would lose someone he cared about, yet again. She not only had herself to think about – she had to think of Jesse.

When Marcus had died, she thought she could never ever possibly love another man. But yet there she was… falling for John.

And it was more than that amazing kiss.

“Your husband, he was an adrenaline junkie, I hear,” John said. “I’m sorry,” he quickly added. “Do you mind talking about him?”

“No, I don’t mind,” she told him with a smile, remembering Marcus. “Yes, he loved all that crazy stuff… skydiving, gliding and flying his plane.”

“The guy had his own plane?” John asked, seemingly impressed.

“Yes, a small float plane. He got his license quite a few years ago.”

“Did you ever go on it?” he asked, curious.

“Well, you know me… scared of my own shadow.”

He laughed. “Yes… I know you.”

“Well, I was terrified of the thing. Jesse and I have only been on it once or twice.”

“Wow, I’m impressed.”

She smiled. “I know… it’s surprising.”

They stood silent for a few seconds.

“It’s ironic though,” she said. “Here I was, always worrying about him all the time… and he goes and dies from a brain aneurysm, sitting comfortably at his desk, dressed in his best suit.”

John was quiet for quite a while, looking at her. She knew John had never been much of a talker – she knew the kindness in his eyes was probably all he could offer.

“You think that’s where Jesse’s obsession with planes comes from?” he asked.

She smiled – her thoughts far away. “I think so.”

***

Sophie woke up in a great mood; the sun shining through the sheer curtains had dragged her from a wonderful sleep full of dreams – dreams of John. That kiss had really done something to her subconscious. She tried to push John out of her head as much as she could during the day, keeping her mind busy. But at night, she was powerless.

She slipped on her fuzzy socks and walked over to her window. She opened it and breathed in the salty sea air. She realized how much she had missed this place – so serene, so peaceful. 

John was working with Jimmy and Craig on the front yard landscaping. Jimmy and Craig seemed like good friends of John’s and were always joking around. But, she didn’t care too much about them at the moment – here eyes were glued to John. He was talking to Jimmy. A white t-shirt clung to his body, and he wore cargo shorts and a baseball cap.

John caught a glimpse of her and waived. She waived back with a nervous smile – he had caught her. She quickly faded away from the window and ran to the washroom.

Sophie was feeling rather nautical. She hopped over to her dresser and took out her favorite white capri pants – a little tight on the rear but quite comfortable regardless. She paired them with a body hugging nautical striped blue and white tee, and large rimmed sun hat. She would add her beachy wedge espadrilles, and the outfit would be complete.

“Looks like a great day,” she said to Jesse as she headed down the stairs. He was sitting on the sofa, cradling a bowl of cereal, watching morning cartoons.

“Geez, you must be happy Grandma gets cable,” she teased.

“Yep,” he smiled, “Grandma rocks.”

“Where
is
Grandma?”

“She went into town with a friend,” Jesse told her, still glued to his show.

“We should go too later,” she suggested, “just you and me.”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

She looked outside the kitchen window over at John.

“Geez, he looks hot,” she said to no one in particular. “I think I’ll bring them over some lemonade.”

She mixed a large pitcher of cold lemonade, grabbed a few large plastic cups, and walked out over to the porch.

Jimmy and Craig were walking towards the truck but stopped dead in their tracks when they saw her. John looked up from his pile of dirt and dropped his tools, his eyes lingered on her for a while.

Sophie suddenly felt out of sorts – like a clown at a funeral.

“I… I thought I’d bring you some… lemonade,” she stammered. “You guys look hot.”

“Thank you,” said Jimmy, walking toward Sophie with the widest smile she had ever seen.

“It’s mixed with extra water, so it’s not too sweet.”

“Thanks,” Craig said. “You’re all right,” he added, smiling at John.

John smiled back and walked up the stairs. “Thanks,” he said, wiping the sweat off his forehead. He was filthy and sweaty, but still sexy as hell.

He took a glass, and she poured the lemonade all around.

“I thought you didn’t get your hands dirty,” Sophie said, looking at his filthy hands.

“It’s just a small job,” John explained. “I figured I’d help the guys out, and we’d get it done in a day.”

They all stood drinking, not saying much. Sophie stood there awkwardly teetering on her wedges, holding the half-empty pitcher, feeling out of place. “Well… I’ll be going,” she finally said. “It was nice to see you again, guys.”

“Likewise,” Jimmy said with a sly smile. Sophie got the distinct impression he was flirting with her. The thought made her a little uncomfortable.

The guys went back to their work, but it seemed like John had no intention of letting her leave quite that quickly. 

“You look very nice,” he told her, eyeing her from head to toe, and up again. She knew he was up to no good.

“Oh… this, this outfit,” she stammered. “I just threw it on.”

He took the pitcher from her hand and set it on the wrought iron bistro table. “Going on a yacht later?” he teased.

She knew he was going to keep this up for a while – it was his style. He seemed to take great enjoyment in annoying the hell out of her. He certainly hadn’t wasted any time today – it was barely ten o’clock.

“I like this whole nautical thing you’ve got going today,” he taunted further, wiping the cold sweat off his drink on the thin fabric of his t-shirt. The gesture brought her attention to his stomach, which she had touched not so long ago. Her mind left the conversation for a second, and travelled back to that amazing kiss. She could barely focus on what he was saying. Suddenly he was just inches away from her.

She could see Jimmy and Craig staring at them. “Uh… John,” she said with a tilt of her head and a sideways look.

“Weren’t you two going for a supplies run?” he asked them rather bluntly.

“Yes boss, we were,” said Jimmy, quick on his feet, dashing towards the truck. Craig also made a quick disappearing act.

John waited for the sound of the truck to ease into the distance. “…or maybe, you’re going to a regatta,” he went on, smiling that mischievous grin.

She smiled. His attempt at mockery was only mildly amusing. “Enough already,” she finally managed. “I’m just going to town.”

“You should go to ‘The Docks’ for fish ‘n chips,” he suggested. “They have a seaside theme. You’d fit right in.”

She took a deep breath. He was officially annoying her to bits. And he was so close, she could smell the dirt on him. She shook her head anxiously. “Why must you be so impish all the time?” she asked a little louder than she had intended.

“Impish?” he asked plainly, smiling.

“Yes. It means–”

“I know what it means,” he scoffed. He inched towards her, closing the gap between them, pressing his filthy hands on the sides of her hips, pushing her against the railing of the porch. Her heart started to thump.

“You college girls and your fancy words,” he said softly. She wondered what game he was playing now.

“You thought I wouldn’t understand you?” he asked, his warm breath against her neck.

“Uh… no…” she stammered. He was making her nervous.

He leaned against her, his mouth barely touching her earlobe, his breath warming her neck. “I’ll tell you what it means,” he whispered. “Playful… annoyingly so,” he continued, his mouth tracing the edge of her jaw. Was he going to kiss her again?

Yes… he was going to kiss her again.

She couldn’t bear to wait. Her heart beat quickened. She could hardly breathe.

“…mischievous,” he went on, sliding his hands down her thighs. Hard. He was playing rough suddenly.

He hands made their way back up her legs, his thumbs grabbing the inside of her thighs tightly, inching daringly close. She couldn’t believe he was doing this right there and then.

“…prankish,” he added, “fond of playing games, practical jokes.”

She couldn’t take it anymore.

She inched her mouth towards his, aching for that kiss.

Their lips almost touched.

And then, he backed away with a playful smile.

“You’ll want to get those cleaned,” he said, all business.

And a beat later, he walked away.

What?!!!

She looked down at her pants – her favorite crisp white designer capri pants – they were filthy. The anger building up in her was palpable. It was also déjà-vu – the last time she had felt so slighted was when he had sprayed her yellow Sunday dress.