Dandelion Dreams (7 page)

Back in the cottage I lit a fire, but left the rest of the lights off. I opened a bottle of cheap bourbon and didn’t bother with a glass. I found my iPod, plugged in headphones and listened to the song on repeat. Grief was a strange entity, and like the moon it waxed and waned. I’d never felt more alone than in that moment, and I drank until I drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 10

Sage

I sat in the corner of the café, close enough to see the dark, careless stubble on his jaw. Sounds of the mandolin soothed me, like a salve reaching all the way to my bones.

He was talented.

When he played, he brought tears to my eyes, and I wondered what sort of magic he held, a true master of emotion. The song ended, and the sudden silence left me feeling empty.

I glanced up to find a blue-gray stare raking over me. The player inclined his head in acknowledgement. I did the same—and then, without hesitation, he began to play the song that had caused me to leave the previous night.

But this time, instead of running, I leaned towards him, wanting to soak up the notes. When he finished, he set his mandolin down in its case and walked towards me, dressed in faded, ratty jeans and a black t-shirt. I could see the tempest in his eyes. He sat on the stool next to me, a careless smile spreading across his face. I raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. He flagged down the bartender and ordered two shots of bourbon.

“Cheers,” he said, holding up his glass. We clinked and downed them; I didn’t even flinch.

“You’re quite impressive,” he murmured.

“Glad you think so.” I ordered another round.

“So, stranger. You have a name?”

I bit my lip. To tell him would make me real. “Does it matter?”

“I can call you Lady Magnolia.”

I stared at him for a moment. Suddenly, my name didn’t feel like it belonged to me anymore, so I told him. “Sage.”

He held out his hand. “Kai.”

I took it, noting both the warmth and calluses. When I tried to pull away, he tightened his grip. “May I have my hand back?”

“In a minute.”

His thumb weaved a sensuous stroke across my knuckles. He stared at me, but I didn’t feel like squirming. The power of his eyes entranced me, and my heart pounded as he continued to hold my hand. He was a stranger in so many ways, and yet I saw something in him that I had in myself.

His sorrow was a mirror into my heart.

I knew instinctively that Kai was reckless, and I wanted to throw myself into the eye of his storm. I wanted experiences that would forge and inspire me, and I knew that could only happen with him, but I couldn’t say why.

“Sage…”

“Yes?”

“May I kiss you?”

I couldn’t speak past the emotion in my throat, so I nodded.

As Kai’s face came close to mine, I thought he was going to kiss my lips—instead he pressed his warm mouth to the flickering pulse at my throat.

“Will you come home with me?” he asked.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

Without taking my eyes off him, I plucked the glass from his hand and drank the bourbon in a few long swallows. Setting it down on the bar, I reached for my purse to pay for our drinks, but he stopped me by pulling out his wallet and throwing down some Euros. “How many women have said
no
to you?”

“None.”

“You’re honest.”

“I don’t think you’re the kind of woman that can stomach lies.” He stared at me. Relentless. Feral. “You’re coming home with me, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” There was intensity in him, and I liked it.

His hand squeezed my arm. “Stay here—don’t move.”

I pulled on my coat while he went to get his mandolin. We left the bar and walked into the night. Without asking, he laced his fingers in mine.

“Have you ever been so cold, so weary, you wonder how you’ll ever make it back?” His voice was soft, and I wasn’t sure I heard him.

“What are you trying to come back from?”

“What are
you
?”

I didn’t answer.

We stopped when we came to the
Tours
Cathedral. The old Gothic building was austere in the moonlight, and seemed to block out the entire sky.

“Have you been inside?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Look.” He pointed in the direction of an ancient, knobby tree as we strolled towards it. Moonlight bathed naked, twisted branches in a silver glow.

“It belongs in the realm of fairies,” I said. “Imagine all the stories that tree could tell if only it could talk.”

I leaned over and pressed my lips to bark. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against it, wanting to pay respect to something that had withstood the test of time, far longer than any single human life. I glanced at Kai, and he watched me with a steady gaze. I gave no apology for my moment with the tree. Grabbing a low-hanging limb, I hoisted myself up into the canopy. “You coming?” I called down.

A moment later, he sat on a branch across from me.

“Do you have a place where time stops for you?” I wondered.

“I used to, but it’s gone now.” He turned his eyes to me; they were haunted with despair.

I hadn’t expected the weight of his emotion, and so I jumped down to escape the moment. Kai followed, landing next to me. Without a word, he took my hand and led me away.

•••

We arrived at a narrow door on a cobblestone street, lined with dull grass peeping between the cracks. I trailed after Kai up the stairs. Jiggling the key in the lock, he let me inside. The studio was sparse—twin bed in the corner, a rickety circular table with two wire chairs, and a small refrigerator making a faint humming noise, attesting to its age.

Kai set his mandolin case down as I walked to the window and looked out over the quiet path. I could almost imagine the color of the flowers that would appear in spring. Turning back to him, I smiled.

“What?”

“It seems just the sort of place a musician would live.”

He grinned as we perched on the bed. Holding my hand, he traced the back of it. “Anyone tell you that you have elegant knuckles?”

I laughed. “No.”

He brought them to his lips. “This—,” he gestured to the studio, “is just a place out of the rain.”

“You don’t like being owned by things, do you?”

He shrugged. “Obligation is a bitch. What about you?”

I thought of Connor; I had let myself be owned by people. I nodded.

Kai reached out with his free hand to touch my face. “Where’s your home, Sage?”

“I don’t have one.” My voice was full of bone-jarring loss, an endless reservoir of sadness.

Further words were unnecessary as he turned his body towards me. Sinking his fingers into my hair, he pulled my face close to his. His mouth covered my lips in an urgent kiss, and I gave into his need, fueling my own. With gentle insistence, he pushed me back, and his body melted over mine. His hands and lips were everywhere; it was a struggle to breathe and when I did, the scent of sunshine and pine filled my nose.

Perhaps I didn’t have a home, but in that moment, I felt like I did. In his arms, my aching spirit calmed. He was summoning a feeling I had long thought dead.

We struggled out of our clothes, and I watched as Kai’s eyes roamed over me in reverence. I touched him, my fingers colliding with an angry scar on his chest. It looked like a burn.

“What is—”

“Not yet,” he interrupted. “I’ll tell you, but not right now.” He silenced me with a kiss.

I swallowed questions as my hands glided over his skin and played with the dark hairs on his chest.

His fingers tickled their way down my body, and I shivered in delight, not wanting to wait any longer. The aching loneliness disappeared like mist late in the morning as our bodies joined as one.

I rocked against him, my mouth seeking his. I bit his lip and then soothed the pain with my tongue.

He groaned, but it wasn’t in despair.

Everything made sense, and the only thing that mattered was Kai’s mouth on mine and the feeling of his warm, flushed skin against me. We moved in a frenetic pace—a moment too brief in time.

Our breaths mingled as our hearts beat in a synonymous, steady rhythm. Kai’s face nestled into the crook of my neck, and my hands gripped his hair as we attained the deepest release possible. I was fulfilled and at peace, but when Kai eased out of me I felt empty again.

“Come on,” he said, taking my hand and leading me towards the tiny bathroom. The narrow shower stall would force us to remain close.

We showered in easy silence, our hands still finding a reason to touch one another. I pressed a kiss to his scar, which I could now see in the light.

“It looks like a brand.” A tragic T&R marked forever on his body, remembered by his flesh.

“It is.”

I didn’t ask about it again.

The hot water beat down on us, and I closed my eyes and leaned against his slick shoulder. His arms came around me and squeezed. I fit into him—I belonged. We dried off, and Kai gave me one of his t-shirts.

“You’re staying.”

“I am?” I asked, even as I reached for the shirt and pulled it over my head. “You don’t seem the type that spends a whole night with a woman.”

“I’m not,” he admitted, “but I want to spend tonight with you.”

I did as I was bid, climbing into his bed and scooting over, making room for him. He slid in next to me, putting a warm, heavy leg across mine. My eyes drifted closed, even as I thought again that I shouldn’t stay.

Comfort is a powerful sedative.

Chapter 11

Kai

I bolted up, gasping, my body slippery with sweat. I had dreamt of the crash again, the smell of burning metal in my nose, the taste of it at the back of my throat, threatening to choke me.

I looked over at Sage. It was strange to see her there. I’d never brought a woman home with me. I’d left all of them in the middle of the night at apartments or houses I’d convinced them to bring me to, but this was a woman I didn’t want to leave.

I wasn’t sure why.

Her hair flowed across the pillow like a mermaid under water. Her face was turned away from me, and her breathing was even and deep. Sage was exceptionally beautiful, but it wasn’t her looks that intrigued me.

I got out of bed, careful not to disturb her.

When Sage came into the café for the first time I thought she appeared tragic. I noticed a sadness about her, and wanted to play her a song that would make her smile. I had no idea the song I chose would cause her to leave.

When she came back the following night, I felt something. Hope, maybe.

I’d been traveling for years, with no desire to stay put. One woman had been as good as the next, but I wanted Sage for more than a single night.

I scratched my chest as I opened the cupboard, pulled out a cup, and filled it with water. Taking a drink, I turned when I heard footsteps behind me. My shirt covered the tops of Sage’s thighs and clung to her breasts, and I could see her nipples, the color of a coral starfish. Her long hair hung down her back in soft waves, fair skin flushed pink. She walked to me, and I wrapped my arms around her as she placed her head in the crook of my neck like she was made for the spot. I breathed her in—she smelled warm, like a spring afternoon in Monteagle.

“Did I wake you?”

“No,” she mumbled into my chest, her mouth close to my brand.

All the women I had slept with asked about it—I gave them different answers every time, but for once, I wanted to speak the truth, wondering if I still could. But not now.

I cupped her head in my hands, tugging on her hair to make her look at me. My mouth claimed hers; I needed to feel her moving beneath me as I lost myself in her. Only then were my demons at bay.

I wondered about hers.

I took her back to the twin bed, laid her down, and covered her with my body. Her fingers trailed down my arms and gripped my shoulders as I thrust into her, making us one.

This time, we made love, the savage beast of guilt slumbering. This time, it was just for us.

•••

“Don’t you guys get bored?” I ask.

Tristan and Reece exchange a look as Tristan passes Reece the hand rolled cigarette. “Bored?” Tristan queries. “What do you mean?”

“I hate shoes,” Reece grumbles, wiggling his bare toes.

“Why do we keep meeting here?” I wonder aloud.

“You tell us,” Tristan says.

“I thought this was your favorite place?” Reece points out. The sun glides up over the mountains. It’s quiet, serene—the silver lake is always placid.

“It is,” I state. “But it’s—”

“A painful reminder of home?” Tristan finishes.

I nod, picking up a twig and snapping it.

“You going to tell us about the girl?” Reece demands, taking another long drag of the cigarette.

Tristan raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, is it serious?”

“We just met.”

“That’s a ‘yes’.” Tristan grins.

“Think she’ll make you happy?” Reece asks.

“Yeah.”

“Think she’ll make you a better man?”

“Hopefully.”

“Does she make you reflect?”

“She is my mirror.”

Tristan is thoughtful, and then he smiles. “I don’t have a reflection anymore.”

“Time to go,” Reece says, rising. “Take it easy, Kai.”

I watch my two best friends walk down the path, their bodies disappearing before my eyes. Sighing, I look at the sky and then descend the mountain.

Chapter 12

Sage

We were a mesh of tangled limbs. Kai’s leg was thrown over mine as he held me in

his arms. We faced one another, my head resting underneath his chin. I traced a finger in the dip between his collarbones and wondered about the illusion of intimacy. I had never had a one-night stand before, and I had been prepared for awkwardness, yet all I felt was comfort.

He sighed.

“You awake?” I whispered.

“Yeah.”

I pulled back, wanting to look in the direction of his eyes. One of his hands came up to caress the curve of my cheek. He kissed me. It was a feathered dance across my lips, but not a plea for more. It was a statement of feeling, of knowledge that I rested next to him.