18

Cathy

The drive through Vermont from the university carried us through winding roads and the breathtaking landscapes of lush forests and rolling hills. I cracked my window to let in the fresh, crisp air tinged with pine and wildflowers. We stopped at a quaint New England town with its white-steepled church and historic buildings for lunch before continuing past the occasional farm with red barns and golden fields. The drive became not just a physical distance, but a sensory experience to be savored.

And savor it I did.

After a rushed week of getting a good chunk of our dissertation written, work from other subjects and stealing away with Jonathan any chance I could, I need the rest. One good thing about the week was Chris’s absence. I didn’t even see him in class. I hadn’t realized how stressed I was until Jonathan picked me up and we left the university grounds behind us. I was still tense the first two hours of the drive, but now, three hours later as Jonathan pulls to a stop outside the Airbnb he’s hired, tension bleeds right out of me.

I step out of Jonathan’s car and look around. The air is so fresh compared to the city. I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a moment. When I open them, I take in the small, immaculate cottage in front of me. Creamy white with dark shutters and a red door, it looks like something out of an ad for a vacation destination.

Jonathan unloads our bags from his Subaru, before a gleaming sparkle captures my attention. “There’s a lake, Jonathan! Right at the back of the house.”

He places the bags on the ground and watches me, his lips curving into a smile that only makes his handsome face even more devastatingly attractive.

“You chose this on purpose.”

I circle around the car and make my way to the little gate at the end of a slate path that leads to a pier that juts out into the water. Two Adriatic chairs are positioned on the pier to look out over the lake.

The breeze ruffles the surface of the water, making it sparkle in the sunlight. The glossy surface reflects the blue sky, fluffy white clouds and green trees lining the shore on the opposite bank. It’s a fairytale.

I open the gate and step onto the path. Jonathan comes behind me, the bags still set neatly beside his car. I can barely bite back all the joy that wants to spill over and turn into thrilled laughter. “This is amazing!”

“I’m glad. Let’s check it out, shall we?” His smile washes over me again, and damn if it doesn’t knock me flat-footed, sinking its claws deep around my heart and squeezing so hard I lose my breath.

I can’t believe I have this man all to myself for four whole days. This beautiful little house by the lake is going to give us the perfect weekend.

Jonathan takes my hand as I step onto the wooden planks of the pier and leads me to the end. He moves the chairs close, angling them toward each other. I sit and gaze at the lake, stretched before me in a mirror-like expanse. A gentle breeze picks up and ruffles through my hair as though the world itself is aligning with contentment.

Jonathan sits and I chuckle as the timbers creak under his weight and he shoots me a faux wary look. I like seeing him relaxed and joking. I like this unbuttoned side of him. He thumbs the back of my hand in gentle strokes as he looks out over the water.

“It’s so beautiful here,” I say.

A soft smile plays on his mouth, “We have the whole area to ourselves. I hope you’re not worried. There’s no one about for miles.”

Wind rustles the leaves and stirs the scents of nature around me. “I don’t think you know how good that sounds,” I say.

“You like it here.” A statement. Not a question. I turn to see Jonathan’s expression locked on me. Seeing me.

I relax back in the chair. “Believe me. It’s nice not to hear traffic. Even when you’re twenty stories high. I’ve never been to the country. Not like this.”

“You’ve never been on vacation?” he asks.

“Oh, I’ve been on vacation. But Mom loves the city and the beach. Hawaii was always her favorite. I’d stay with Dad, especially during summer when I was on school break, but he’s always worked hard. I fit in with his schedule more than anything. One year, he taught me to frame a house. He always settled for the more educational vacations.” I chuckle, remembering the sprawling mansion he managed to build. That was back when Blue Sky was going from strength to strength. When he was more hands-on and before he hired someone to manage building crews. Years ago.

“You can frame a house?” Jonathan says.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a professional by any stretch of the imagination. I spent more time on the beach where he was doing the build than hammering nails,” I say. “An eight-year-old really shouldn’t be on a building site. Or constructing a house for a client.”

“Your dad expected you to work when you were eight?” Jonathan sits up in his chair.

I can’t help the smile play on my mouth. “Get that picture out of your head. It wasn’t like that. Dad is a good guy. I pleaded to go on site with him and he relented. I thought I wanted to learn the family business and he finally agreed to take me.”

It was either that or stay in the condo with the sitter. I didn’t have any friends to stay with and Mom, being her typical self, was busy with her career. I don’t say any of that to Jonathan though. He doesn’t need to know about the abject loneliness of my childhood.

“Is that what you want now? To take over his business one day?” Jonathan asks.


“I don’t think I do. The business will do well with or without me. I’d like to open my own business one day.” I send him my side-smile. “Something in business analytics.”

“Now I know you’re joking,” he says.

I ignore the pang that goes through my chest. Jonathan has no idea who Dad is, or how loaded that question is. I’ve skirted around, telling him half-truths.

He accepts me. No matter what.

But then my head floods with memories of people who pretended to like me.

Jonathan is different. I know he is.

I open my mouth to tell him the whole truth. I want to tell him. I want him to know everything about me, but Chris’s face crests the wave crashing around the inside of my skull and I chicken out.

With his hand still holding mine, Jonathan leans closer and gently brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch is feather-light but it sends a full-body shiver through me. “Where did you go just then?”

I smooth the line that forms between his brows. “Nowhere important.”

“You know you can tell me, Cathy. There’s nothing you can say that will change how I feel about you.”

The breeze chills instant perspiration on my skin. My throat tightens, threatening to choke me. Words clog up behind the imaginary dam.

“I know. You’ll tell me when the time is right,” he whispers and my heart cracks more.

How long can I put him off before it becomes too much for him? And he too, becomes the last in a line of faces that don’t make it past those insurmountable walls I’ve built inside me. Walls that no longer feel protective. Now they’re a prison.

My breath eases out and I echo his words. “When the time is right.”

I reach out and place my hand on his cheek, feeling the slight scruffiness of his beard against my palm. Jonathan leans in closer, his lips so close to mine that I feel his warm breath fanning my face.

“Cathy,” he says on a gravelly whisper. A beautiful promise of so many things. Things I will selfishly take.

I flex my fingers on his thigh and lean in. His gaze flits to my eyes before he ducks his head and presses his lips to mine. A soft brush, a caress. Then he pulls back, just enough. Our breath mingles. Our chests rise and fall in unison. Only it doesn’t feel like enough. I want more. I need more. I nip at his bottom lip. Our breaths tangle as our mouths meld together. I sink into him–the taste, the touch, the heat of him. My entire body thrums with awareness. An ache blooms deep in my belly. This is a step beyond desire. Beyond need. This is something more elemental. More intrinsic. Something I’ve waited my entire life to experience. Something I need only from him.

The lake and the trees, the sky and clouds, the worry and pain—everything—falls away leaving only the two of us. His thumb swipes across my skin, leaving a trail of searing heat that spreads to my chest. My belly coils with anticipation.

A soft moan vibrates through his chest and he fists my shirt. He stands and raises me with him. Our bodies slot together and he tangles both hands in my hair, keeping me plastered to his chest. My fingers leave burning trails up his stomach to his shoulders. I press against him, greedily taking all of him I can. His mouth moves over mine, sparking fires. I don’t think I can ever get enough of him. I crave to kiss him senseless, to explore every inch of his mouth, to learn the subtleties of how he tastes and how he reacts to my touch.

Butterflies erupt in my stomach as though escaping, and that ache grows. A pleading. A yearning to be even closer. Jonathan’s hands splay over my back, holding me tight. He deepens the kiss, sweeping inside and tangling our tongues. My heart trips and stumbles over an invisible line and there is no way back. Not that I want to return.

He breaks our kiss and we stare at one another, both breathing hard. Neither of us moves. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

He takes my hand and leads me back to the house. I’m dazed and disorientated, going willingly with him, swimming in the ocean of us. Of Jonathan and Cathy. Consumed with thoughts of the days ahead. Four days where I’ll take all of him and give him all of me in return. I’ll pretend that time doesn’t exist and that we can always be like this. Together, carefree and willing. I’ll live in that delusion because I know how this will end.

Because the right time will never come.