Authors: Ann Collins
She teased the wilting blooms tenderly back apart, stroking them into place, preening them. She really did feel something for him, despite herself. But was it too late? Had the flowers of their romance already gone past the point of salvage?
***
The BMW trundled down the back road flicking up loose gravel, the wind blowing gently across wide open fields. On Kara went, slowing as she past the massive felled tree that had now been pulled to one side – the site where everything went wrong. Or was it right? She didn’t know any more.
She certainly had no idea what she’d say to Anders when she got there – she hadn’t really thought it through – she just knew that she needed to see him. But when she arrived it turned out that any preparation would have been wasted anyway.
The place was near silent. All the usual activity was absent. Most of the cars had gone, and those that were there sat unworked. There were just two men she didn’t recognize, busy hammering up boarding over the windows of the main building.
She got out the car and walked towards them. “Where’s Anders?” she called.
“Who?”
“The owner,” she said, pointedly.
“Ain’t the owner of this place no more!”
Just how quickly had they managed to close the place down? That must have taken some serious effort on someone’s part. It must have been borderline illegal.
“Reckon you’ll find him down at McHaggerty’s,” called out the other man. “He was heading off that way…with some special lady of his. Hot she was, too. Woo-wee!”
The man seemed to take particular delight in this. Surely Anders hadn’t replaced her already? She had no claim on him, but the very thought of him with another woman made her feel sick to the stomach. She left them behind, with their revoltingly chirpy attitudes, got back into the car, and continued in the direction of the official ‘wrong side of town’.
The streets changed very quickly after she crossed the tracks. Buildings were scuffed up, cars had mismatched panels, and telegraph lines hung limply across the neighborhood. People skulked about sullenly like they had nowhere to go and nothing better to do. She felt uncomfortable prowling through this territory in her gleaming icon of riches.
Perhaps I should go back
.
But if I do, how will I find Anders?
Finally up on one side of the road, she spied the place. A wooden-clad building with a tatty bunch of letters on the side of the building, the ‘s’ hanging forlornly off. She saw no sign of his truck there as she pulled up into the lot – just a few cars and a big black motorbike festooned with chrome trim. But she had nothing else to go on. It was here or nowhere.
She scanned the bar, and her eyes came to rest on a distinctive leather jacket, seen from behind. That was him for sure. Only he wasn’t alone. Sat next to him, far too close for comfort, was a trashy type with lavender-hair. Kara walked up, got closer.
“I’m an idiot,” said Anders, “I should’ve known better – gambling with the shop like that. What the hell was I thinking?”
The lavender-haired woman squeezed his shoulder.
Get your hand off of him.
Kara instinctively took another step forward. Anders caught this movement in his peripheral vision and glanced round.
“Kara,” he said, his eyes wild with surprise. “What are you doing here?”
She looked at the lavender-haired woman, then back to Anders.
Anders moved quickly to break the tension. “Kara, I’d like you to meet a good friend of mine. This is Dallas.”
“Hey there Kara,” said Dallas with a disarming smile. “So you’re the one he’s all in a flap over?”
The threat of this woman diminished instantly with this simple statement.
“I guess I must be.”
He’s all in a flap over me?
“Dallas was the one who convinced me to bring you flowers,” he said. “She wouldn’t stop pestering me until I made a move.”
“He’s one of the good guys,” said Dallas. “You want to keep hold of him. And if you don’t have hold of him, you need to fix that!”
“And as for this one,” Dallas said, talking to Anders now, and gesturing towards Kara, “Anders you’ve not stopped talking about her since you met her. She must be something special.”
Dallas started packing up her handbag, ready to leave. “Mary,” she called to the woman behind the bar, “these two ain’t leaving ‘til they’ve sorted their mess out – y’hear?”
“Loud and clear!”
The door swung to a halt behind her, leaving Kara and Anders both just staring at each other.
“Look I…” Kara started.
“Listen…” said Anders at almost exactly the same time.
They both put their hands out to mollify the other, and they connected accidentally in a moment of tender awkwardness.
“I’m so sorry about what happened with the garage,” said Kara, her eyes, her face, her whole body open to accept whatever verbal retribution came her way.
None did. “I’m sorry about the restaurant,” he said with a look of embarrassment. “I don’t know what happened to me. Guess I just flipped.”
“I think you got the worse deal of the two of us,” she said.
“Yeah!” He laughed. “Me too. That boyfriend of yours – piece of work, isn’t he?”
“He really is,” she said, becoming vexed at the very thought of him.
“That business – my dad built that up. And that’s not even the worst of it. It was secured against the house – if he really wants to play dirty, he could probably take that off me too.”
Kara sighed. “My career is on the line, too. Scott has a grip over my future that I just can’t shake. Choosing you is something I simply can’t afford to do.”
“Then why are you here?”
Good question.
“I don’t know, I guess…I couldn’t not come here.”
She reached out instinctively, touching his face and exploring along his jawline, the stubble grazing her delicate hand.
“Where’s your truck?” she asked.
“They took the old girl. God knows what for – it’s not like she’s worth much. My bike is off the books though.”
Kara felt entirely out of place in this spit and sawdust venue. Perhaps Anders sensed it, as he led her off to a small table near the back. Half an hour in, though, and she was more relaxed, tapping her foot to the beat while they chatted. Three hours later, they were still there, their keys safely ensconced behind the bar. The music was louder now, and she had to get very close to be heard, her lips brushing up gently against his ear as she spoke.
“What made you come back?” he asked.
She didn’t even have to think about that one. “It was the flowers.”
“Excuse me?”
“Those flowers you gave me. They were wild and crazy and beautiful and just such a jumble, like they weren’t planned or carefully chosen. They were just…they were just perfect, Anders. Not perfect like a pristine tablecloth. Perfect in the
right
way. Does that make sense?”
It made perfect sense.
By now the place had filled out. Glasses crashed together, people burst into song along with the music, and everyone was having fun. You didn’t need a special jacket to fit in in this place. But they’d been sat down long enough, so up she got and pulled him out onto the dance floor. And the woman could
dance
.
Anders didn’t know what he expected – a woman who was more comfortable with elegant ballroom dancing, perhaps? But the music made Kara come alive in a way he never would have guessed she had in her. She twirled and high-stepped and shimmied and swayed, pulling him right along with her. She got a lot of attention, the good kind of attention that is commanded by someone who can shake a leg on the dance floor.
Then, finally, they got the slow number they deserved. Anders pulled Kara in close, and their bodies moved in unison. They were close enough that they could feel each other’s breath on their faces, close enough that their lips could accidentally graze each other’s cheeks, close enough that it was inevitable that their lips would meet. Though when they did it was fleetingly, teasingly, offering the promise of something more.
“That one’s a keeper,” the woman behind the bar said, as they ordered a couple more shots. “If she doesn’t eat you for breakfast, that is.”
“Mary, she can eat me for starters, main and dessert.”
“She may just do that,” said Kara, pulling playfully at the zipper on his jacket.
“Get a room, you two!” said Mary.
“That’s not a bad idea,” said Kara and they gazed into each other’s eyes. “Not a bad idea at all.”
***
Kara’s legs were still shaky from all the dancing as she led Anders to her front door, but her eyes clear and bright, and her heart light as a feather.
She knew that they couldn’t be together in the long term, that it was just a temporary reprieve, that they were flying high on heady hormones and that soon enough there would be a crash landing with reality. She knew that they both had too much at stake, and she’d surely end up back in the relationship that maybe she should have stayed in to begin with. But when she closed the door and Anders pulled her into his arms, there was nothing in the world but the two of them.
He kissed her hard, just as he had that day in the garage. But this time they had all night to indulge. She remembered the way he had kissed her the first time they ever had sex, that night in his house after he found her on the side of the road. He had been gentle with her, so gentle that it wasn’t quite enough, and she had pushed him for more. Now she let the intensity grow, kissing him hard but slow, her body awakening from the inside out.
He pulled away to take a deep breath, and she watched as his eyes settled on the chandelier that hung from the second story landing. He looked at it for a moment, then his eyes came down the stairs, stopping at the gentle curve at the bottom.
“Kara,” he said slowly. “I don’t know where I fit in here. Do I fit in here?”
She didn’t have all the answers, but she did have one. “I know exactly where you fit,” she said, stepping back toward the alcove that housed the huge bed.
He grinned at her, suddenly catching on. “You do, huh?”
“I do.”
“And where might that be?”
“Come over here and find out.”
Anders kept his eyes on her, the opulent room obviously forgotten. She stepped back until her thighs hit the bed, and then she stood there, watching him approach. His shirt was rumpled. He had the slightest bit of stubble on his face. And his eyes were bright with desire as he looked at her, making her tremble from head to toe with anticipation.
When he was only a breath away, she reached behind her and touched the zipper of the dress. She stared into his eyes as he took the hint and reached behind her, grasping the tiny zipper himself, pulling it down slowly.
She gently pushed him back and let the sleeves of the dress slide down her arms. She kept her eyes on him as the dress slipped further, than further still, until it lay in a pool at her feet. She watched the expressions on his face – the wonder, the lust, the anticipation – and almost felt the caress of his eyes, like a tingle that made its way over every inch of skin, from her feet up to her head.
When he stepped close again and wrapped his big, rough hand around the back of her neck, a low moan escaped her. The place where he touched her seemed to be on fire, lit from the heat between them. He didn’t touch her anywhere else for a while, but just right there, on the back of her neck. It made her feel vulnerable, like a cherished possession, and she could have stayed there forever, just relishing the feeling.
But then it got even better, because his lips came down on hers and she felt that tingle from both sides. His tongue sought hers out, slow and sure, and then he tasted every corner of her mouth. She moaned again, and it was swallowed by him, pulled in with his next breath.
He stepped back and put some distance between them, then started with his clothes. His shirt came off first, and she marveled at the lines of his body, at the way he was hardened by work but still soft enough to cuddle. He had a small scar on his shoulder, and there was another one on his side. There was a handsome helping of freckles.
She realized then that she had never truly seen him in the light before – their time together had been either a quick coupling in his garage or a romp with the lights out. So she reached out with one hand and touched his chest, stilling him. “Slow,” she said. “I want to really look at you this time.”
And so she did. He took his time, dragging off his jeans, slipping down the boxers underneath, showing her everything that she already knew intimately but had never truly seen before. She saw the tattoo again – she remembered that, and it made her smile. She saw the lean legs, the way he almost stumbled as he stepped out of his jeans, the shy blush when she laughed. She saw what was hard and ready for her, heavier than she remembered, now hers to savor.
Her eyes took in every last inch as he undressed for her. And when he was done, they stood in the light of her bedroom, taking each other in with a slowness that hadn’t been present in their other encounters.
“How are your knees?” he asked, and it took her a moment before she realized what he meant.
“Just fine. Didn’t you see me dancing tonight?”
“So pressure on them is okay now?”
She knew what he meant, and she began laughing. Immediately he joined her, and then it was the most natural thing in the world for her to open her arms to him. He came to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, and that skin-on-skin contact took her breath away so fast that her laugh stopped in mid-stride.
“What did you have in mind?” she whispered breathlessly.
He knelt before her and picked her up. He did it without any strain at all, as if she was as light as a feather. She laughed again as he lowered her to the bed. He flicked on the light on the bedside table and went to the wall to turn off the light that shone so brightly on them from the ceiling fan. With the shadows dancing around them, he came back to the bed and crawled onto it with her.
“I have so many things in mind,” he murmured. “Let’s start with this…”
A few moments later his mouth was between her legs. She arched into the sensation, grabbing fistfuls of the comforter in her hands and twisting hard, nonsense words pouring from her as he gave her one wave of pleasure after another. He got her close to the edge and then backed off, taking his time, learning her in a way that she knew would be put to good use again and again and again.