Lying in the Sand (12 page)

He cupped her face and kissed her, calming her down the moment their lips touched. “We’re going to have to put this one on hold because my mom is going to be here any second.”

“You’re right.”

“No matter what happens around us, we are unaffected. The only force that can touch us is time. And even then, it has no bearing on our souls. Because those are timeless. When our bodies disintegrate, our souls will still travel the world—together.”

Thatcher always said the most beautiful things. They came straight from his heart. They weren’t lines he read in a book or stole off the Internet. He was such a different man than most, and Nancy could never figure out why. Perhaps it was because he marched to the beat of his own drum. Perhaps because he always lived life with his heart, not his mind. Every day, he showed her how to be a better person, how to love so much your heart burst from your chest. And every day, she was getting better.

“God, I’m nervous.”

Thatcher finished the final touches on the stove then turned the pans down to low. “Don’t be.”

She fidgeted with her hair and fixed it again.

He smirked. “You’re already perfect.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and tried not to touch herself.

Then they heard the cab pull into the driveway. Thatcher stepped to the full floor-to-ceiling windows and looked down. “That’s her.”

Nancy felt her heart fall into her stomach.

Thatcher grabbed her hand and walked with her downstairs. Every sound of the steps was amplified in her ears. Once they were outside, the humidity was immediately felt on her skin.

A plump woman with short brown hair pulled her luggage out of the truck. She wore badge pants and a cream top.

“It’s great to see you, Mom.” Thatcher dropped her hand then wrapped his arms around his her, holding her. “You look beautiful, like always.”

She smiled then squeezed him tightly. “You’re more handsome every time I see you.”

“You know where I get it from.” He was over a foot taller than her but he bowed to her in respect. He rubbed her back gently before he pulled away. “Had a good flight?”

“It was alright. The peanuts were good.”

He smirked. “Mom, I want you to meet someone very special to me.”

She smiled then looked at Nancy. “It’s wonderful to meet you, dear.” She pulled her in for a big hug, practically squishing her. “I feel like I already know you. You’re all Thatcher talks about.”

The anxiety disappeared. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Adams.”

“Call me Cordelia.”

“I will.” Nancy pulled away. “Thatcher and I are excited to have you here.”

“That makes two of us.” She had rosy and plump cheeks and her eyes were always bright. She was always smiling, never a dull moment.

Thatcher paid the taxi driver then grabbed her bags. “I’m made your favorite for dinner.”

“Balsamic mushroom sandwiches?” she asked excitedly.

Nancy never heard of such a thing.

Thatcher nodded. “Yep.”

“Goodie.” She clapped her hands together.

They entered the second story of the house, and Thatcher placed her bags in the spare bedroom.

“Is this okay, Mom?”

“It’s wonderful.” She eyed the furniture in approval.

They moved to the kitchen table and sat down while Thatcher served the food.

“Do you need help, dear?” his mother asked.

“Nope. You’re our guest, Mom. Just relax.” Thatcher put the dishes on the table. Then he sat beside Nancy, his hand moving to her thigh. “Does anyone need anything? Perhaps some coffee?”

“I’m okay for now,” his mother said.

“Alright.” Thatcher dug in.

His mother took a bite then patted his hand. “You’re such a good cook. Where did you learn?”

He smirked. “You, Mom.”

“I don’t think so,” she said with a laugh. “I can’t cook like this.” She looked at Nancy. “Did you teach him?”

She tried not to laugh. “No. Thatcher has more skill than I do—in pretty much everything.”

Thatcher shook his head slightly but didn’t comment.

Nancy ate her apple broccoli salad then moved to her greens. Thatcher always made something different for dinner, and everything was always exceptional. She used to eat out all the time, and she already noticed the weight loss from living with him.

“Thatcher pretty much told me everything about you,” Cordelia said. “But I want to know more about you.”

Nancy tried to think of something interesting to say. “Well, I used to work at an aquarium. That was pretty cool.”

“An aquarium?” she asked with bright eyes. “That does sound fun. What was your favorite animal?”

“Well, I liked the penguins…when they weren’t biting me.” She added a laugh at the end.

“But those creatures seem so sweet,” she said.

Nancy laughed. “Believe me, they aren’t. I can’t count the number of times they cut my fingers.”

“They sound like mighty birds,” she said.

“Very mighty.” Nancy smiled then ate her food again.

“Were you born and raised here?” Cordelia asked.

“I was. And I love it here. Even more so because of Thatcher.” She gave him a fond look.

“Yes, he’s easy to love,” his mother said proudly. “He looks just like his father, which is why I love looking at him so much.”

Nancy felt her heart break at the mention of Thatcher’s father. She wished she could have met him. “I’m sorry about your loss.”

“Thank you, dear. I miss him like crazy but we all have to go sometime. And at least he died doing what he loved.”

Thatcher nodded. “True.”

Nancy moved her hand to his thigh and gave him a gentle squeeze.

Thatcher leaned toward her and rubbed his nose against hers in reciprocation.

“You guys are so cute,” Cordelia said. “I already like her more than the others.”

Nancy felt her cheeks blush.

“Not that there was anything wrong with the others,” Cordelia added quickly. “But I have to admit Grace is an idiot for walking out on my son.” She shook her head. “Like she’ll find someone better...”

Nancy smirked. “One person’s garbage is another’s treasure.”

“It worked out in the end,” Thatcher said. “We’re both happier because of it.”

“It definitely worked out in my favor,” Nancy said.

“And I’m glad it did,” Cordelia said. “Imagine if you married her and then she left?” She shook her head. “Then I’d have to go full on mama bear on her.”

Thatcher chuckled. “Like you have a mean bone in your body.”

“When it comes to my son I do.” She finished her sandwich. “That was awesome, baby.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

She gathered the plates and took them to the sink.

“Hold it right there,” Thatcher said.

She gave him an innocent look. “What?”

“Put those dishes down and step away from the sponge,” he commanded.

“Baby, just let me help—”

“Nope. Walk away.”

Nancy smirked while she watched their interaction.

“Just let me help,” she said. “You already cooked.”

“You’re our guest,” Thatcher said firmly. “Now step back.”

She sighed then left the dishes on the counter.

“Thank you,” he said. He took the plates off the table and placed them next to the others on the counter. “Now relax.”

Cordelia raised her hands then walked away.

Nancy came to him then grabbed his forearm. “Your mom is cute.”

“I know she is.” He pressed his face close to hers. “And I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

“Thatcher Adams is gloating?” she teased.

“No…I’m just saying.”

“Baby, I want to see your gallery,” she called from the living room.

“Good idea.” He pulled away from Nancy. “You can see some of Nancy’s work too.”

“Goodie.” She clapped her hands together again.

They walked downstairs and entered the gallery.

His mother stared at one for over five minutes. “Whoa…so amazing.”

Thatcher stood beside her, holding Nancy’s hand.

“Tell me about it.”

Thatcher continued to stare at it. “Every morning, I wake up early to surf. But on that morning it didn’t feel right. Instead, I looked at Nancy and watched her sleep. I stayed there for an hour before I went into my office to paint. The night before we had a long night of passion, and I realized that my life will never get better than what it was then.”

Nancy blushed at his honesty.

Cordelia sighed while she looked at it. “It’s a masterpiece, Thatcher. I’m not sure why you’re selling it.”

“If I kept all my paintings, I’d run out of space. And I already experienced that moment. Someone else should get the opportunity.”

Cordelia walked to the next painting, standing in front of one of Nancy’s. “I like this one. It’s Nancy’s?”

“Yes,” he answered.

Nancy thought it was cute that his mother knew his work so intimately to recognize which one was his.

“Tell me about it,” she whispered.

Nancy felt nervous. She wasn’t sure if she should tell her. But Thatcher blatantly told his mom about their lovemaking so it shouldn’t be that offensive. “Thatcher used to surf in the mornings alone and I would accompany him because I was scared…he would drown. It’s just a painting showing fear, in a simplified way.”

She nodded. “I like it. Actually, I love it.”

“Thank you.” Nancy felt warm inside.

They looked at the rest of the paintings in the gallery then went back upstairs. They sat on the couches and watched TV. Nancy kept her space from Thatcher but he wouldn’t allow it. He dragged her to him over and over, making her cuddle with him like they were a single person.

Cordelia started to doze off on the couch. She would fall asleep then she would jerk awake quickly. “I’m sorry, kids. I can’t keep my eyes open.”

“It’s quite alright, Mom. Sleep well.”

“Good night.” She stood up then walked into the spare bedroom.

When they were alone, Thatcher looked at Nancy. “She loves you. Just like I said she would.”

“She’s like the cutest mom ever.”

He smirked. “She is pretty adorable, huh?”

“I see where you get it from.”

“You think I’m a adorable?”

“Duh.” She smiled at him.

He chuckled. “Thanks.”

“I can’t believe you…tell her about your personal life.”

“Not in detail. I refuse to hide experiences that are incredible and life changing. Sex is taboo and inappropriate to speak about, but I’m not sure why. Sex is beautiful and spiritual. You combine your soul with another person. Why should I be embarrassed of that?”

“You’re such a hippie,” she teased.

“I’m not a hippie,” he argued. “I’m just logical.”

“I would never tell my father anything.”

“But you’ll have sex down the hall from him?” he noted.

“He didn’t hear us,” she said quickly.

“Let’s hope that’s true.”

She straddled his hips then hooked her arms around his neck. She pressed her head to his, giving him a dark look. He met her gaze then stared at her lips, seeing them partially open. Then she leaned in and gave him a quiet kiss.

Thatcher’s hand moved into her air, and the other circled her waist, pulling her close to him. He leaned back and rested his head on the back of the couch while she leaned over him, giving him gentle kisses.

His hands moved to her waist then up her back, feeling her small frame. Nancy noted the bulge that formed in his jeans. It pressed against her thigh, feeling hard.

“Let’s go to bed,” she whispered.

He sucked her bottom lip. “You seduced me on purpose.”

“So? What’s your point?”

He held her gaze for a moment before he stood up, carrying her with him. Then he walked into their bedroom, closing the door with his foot. “We have to be quiet.”

“Then you better keep kissing me.”

He lay her on the bed then moved over her, his lips locked to hers. He peeled her clothes away, not breaking their embrace. When he pulled her shirt off, he broke their kiss for an instant. Then he was connected to her.

Nancy yanked his clothes off, eager to see his solid body. When he was naked, she stared at him, loving the sight of his perfection. “You’re mine. And I don’t want to share you with anyone.”

“You never have to.” He pressed his face to hers then moved inside her, stretching her. He breathed hard but didn’t make a sound.

She gripped his forearms, biting her lip.

Thatcher moved slowly, not shaking the bed at all. “Not a sound, baby.”

She cupped his face and kissed him, keeping her moans deep in her throat. She felt him move into her over and over, sending her to the edge. He gripped her tightly, trying to hold on. Neither one of them lasted long. The passion was too strong, and the desire they felt for each other couldn’t be defeated. Nancy went first, breathing into his mouth and digging her nails into his skin. She felt the heat explode inside her, consuming her.