Nowhere but Here (13 page)

When I walked back toward the bed, I noticed a sliver of sight line from which I could watch Jamie in the kitchen, about twenty feet away. He was wearing flannel pajama pants.
Not fair.
When he saw me, I froze. He stalked toward me with an intimidating look on his face. I couldn’t move. I felt myself flush all the way down to my toes. My heart skipped and stuttered. What happened next was a bit of a blur. I could have been dreaming, but I’m pretty sure I watched Jamie stop halfway and slip easily out of his flannel pants. We were standing in the bright light, completely naked and staring at each other. I could hear our shallow breaths and the faint thumping of our hearts. His hair was tousled loosely and the scruff he wore so well was thicker and darker than it had been the day before. An unintentional moan escaped my lips. He stared at me for just a second longer and then took three long, quick strides before lifting me from the back of the legs to straddle him. He pushed me against the wall forcefully.

“You are so beautiful. God, you are so fucking beautiful,” he said with a sigh.

We ravaged each other for hours, moving from space to space. On the bed again, he pulled me up to straddle him and then he pushed my chest back so that my entire body was on display above him. I leaned over and guided him inside of me, filling me to the hilt. He pushed me back again so that I was sitting more upright on top of him.

“Close your eyes, Jamie.”

“No, I want to see you.”

I felt self-conscious but let some of that go when I saw how adoringly he gazed at my body. His eyelids were heavy; he looked spellbound as I began to move. I ground down slowly and felt a small whimper escape my lips. There was already a numbness and pulsing throughout my body, but the position and Jamie’s roaming hands had set the pace much quicker. He finally reached down and touched me where we were connected. I writhed and increased the pace, threw my head back, and lost it. He sat up almost immediately and buried his face in my neck. We stayed that way until the minutes and seconds meant nothing. Time was measured only by the sound of our beating hearts.

When we finally broke our embrace, we fell lazily to each side of the bed. Jamie turned and propped one hand on his elbow and fed me pieces of chocolate croissant before insisting that we take another nap.
Still pretty sure this is heaven.

“Where’s Chelsea?” I asked in a sleepy daze.

“With Susan.”

“That’s probably a good thing.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him smiling.

We were lying on our backs, staring up at the high, beamed ceiling. He reached for my hand and kissed the back of it. “Hey . . . let’s do this forever.”

My eyes widened. “Do what forever?”

“Lay around like this and sleep and eat and fuck.”

“Oh.”

He turned his body toward me and searched my eyes. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t very romantic.”

“That’s okay.”

“I can be romantic . . . but first let’s sleep.” He kissed my forehead and tucked me into his chest.

When I finally woke up from the dreamy sex-and-sleep fest we’d had, I realized Jamie was gone. There was an old hardback book on the nightstand and a folded note sitting on top of it. I reached for it and read:

My kingdom for one more minute with you. Please stay put. Leaving you lying here like an angel in my bed is the hardest thing to do. I
’
m sorry. I have to help Guillermo with something. Here
’
s one of my favorite books to pass the time, so you don
’
t get bored and leave me. Maybe you can tell me if you agree that the poets are right.

The last line was a riddle of some kind. I found my dress and put it on and then shuffled through Jamie’s closet until I found one of his flannel shirts. I slipped it over my head and scribbled a note for him.

I’ll be in my room. I’m definitely not bored. Come and see me when you’re done. ~Kate Kisses, Katy

I set it on his nightstand next to a picture of him in a cap and gown standing with an older woman, who I assumed was his mother. She looked beautiful, vibrant, and proud. Jamie’s arm was around her shoulders, embracing her. From the picture, you could tell they were close. Someone once told me that you can gather all you need to know about a man by the way he treats his mother and his dog. There was something oddly familiar about the photo but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. I grabbed the book and looked at the title
. A Room with
a View. How very romantic of Jamie,
I thought. I had read it, so I searched my mind for the answer to his riddle but came up with nothing.

In the fading sunlight, I meandered back toward the inn, barefoot, twirling my slingback heels around my index finger. There were the distant sounds of birdcalls and a light breeze caressing the vines. The sky was an ocean, crystal blue with giant, heavenly clouds floating about. I watched as a flock of birds danced in perfect unison, swooping down, up, and around against the stark white clouds like a child’s drawing set in motion.

When I passed the last row of vines, I spotted Jamie about forty yards away with his back toward me. I approached him slowly and quietly and watched him stare into the sky, mesmerized by the birds the same way I had been. At the exact moment that I stopped, he turned and looked over his shoulder. He walked toward me with pure determination. There was no hesitation. He just took me in his arms, dipped me slightly, and kissed me hard. When I caught my breath, I smiled.

“Do you get it yet?” he asked.

“Not yet.”

“You will, except there’s no one here to stop us but ourselves.”

“Hmm. Jamie, your riddling prowess is quite impressive.” He smelled musky, and I could feel the dampness of his sweat through his shirt.

“Where are you headed?”

“To my room.”

We were both smiling giddily. “Can I come to your room when I’m through here?”

I held my hand to my mouth and gasped in mock horror. “But, Jamie—what will the town folk say?”

“That’s true. I can just hide your clothes again, lock you in my barn, and fuck you silly.” His dimple was deeper than I had ever seen it.

I socked him in the arm. “I knew you hid my clothes.”

“I had no choice. I needed you naked.” His boyish charm was in full force.

“I’ll let you stay with me in my room, but I’m making no promises beyond cuddling. We can always cuddle,” I said with a hint of amusement.

“That’s enough to keep me going for a hundred years.”

Page 10

Blank Pages

There were at least twenty random pieces of paper spread throughout my room. Several contained quick notes from my observations at the winery, some were Jamie’s itineraries that I couldn’t part with, and some were just blank pages or pages filled with doodling from my brainstorming sessions gone awry. I cleaned up quickly, tossing the papers on the desk and chair, and then I stripped down and jumped in the shower. Before I was able to thoroughly dry my hair or throw on a coat of lip gloss, the knocks came.

He was still wearing his work clothes, and I was only wearing a tiny white towel.

He stepped into the room without a word and then flicked the top of the towel, causing it to fall open and onto the floor. He took a deep breath as his eyes traveled up and down my body. “You need a shower,” he said.

“I just took a shower.”

He bent down and effortlessly threw me over his shoulder and then stalked into the bathroom. I protested while he turned the shower on and waited for the right temperature. He managed to kick his shoes off with me hanging over his shoulder and then he put his mouth on my hip and bit me. “Ouch!”

“Oh, sorry, baby.” He sucked on the same spot until I was writhing around like a maniac suspended in the air. I beat my fists against his back and butt, but he just laughed. Once the water was perfect, he dropped me in and then removed his clothes in five seconds flat. Before I could blink, he had me against the wall of the shower.

“Whoa, Jamie!”

“This is like cuddling, right?” he said with a devilish smirk.

“You are dangerously close to breaking my rule.”

“Okay, let me just wash you.”

“I’m clean.”

“I think you need a once-over.”

After thirty minutes of washing each other’s hair and bodies, we made it out of the shower, but Jamie insisted on drying me in the most painfully slow and gentle manner. We were torturing each other.

“I’m saving you for later,” he said as he helped me into one of the terry-cloth robes.

“What shall we do for dinner?”

“It’s on its way. I’m going to feed you naked.”

He was still wearing nothing. “You’re going to feed me while you’re naked?”

“No, I’m going to feed you while
you’re
naked.”

“I heard it the other way around,” I said accusatorily.

“Okay, how about I feed you while we’re both naked?”

“That’s a good compromise.” I rolled forward on my tippy-toes and kissed his cheek.

When our food came, I insisted that we eat dinner at the table with our robes on like civilized human beings, but I promised him we could eat dessert his way. He immediately called the restaurant and ordered one of each kind of dessert, a scoop of each flavor of ice cream, and a bowl of whipped cream.

“Aren’t you embarrassed? You work here,” I said after he hung up.

“Embarrassed about what?”

“You’ll have to see Chef Mark, and he’ll wonder what you’re doing with a giant bowl of whipped cream.”

“I’m going to eat it.” He smiled innocently. “What’d you think I was going to do with it, Kate? God, you have such a dirty mind.”

“Ha-ha.”

“Truthfully, who cares? Chef Mark has seven kids. I’m sure he knows his way around this kind of thing.” He smiled and then slipped his hand inside my robe and up my thigh. “Especially when you add food to the mix.” He scrunched up his nose and shook his head. “Ugh, I don’t want to think about Chef Mark anymore. I just want to think about you and me and dessert.”

As promised, Jamie ate the entire bowl of Chef Mark’s special sugar-free homemade whipped cream off of my body while I squirmed around underneath him. He made it more silly than sexy, so when we were both thoroughly sticky and full from dinner, he ran a bath and poured us each a glass of wine. We sunk into the bubbles in silence. I rested my head back, closed my eyes, and thought about what would become of Jamie and me. Thoughts of Chicago invaded my mind. I sat up abruptly and opened my eyes.

Jamie watched me with concern. “What is it, Katy?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head in exasperation.

“Tell me.” His eyes were pleading as he pulled me onto his lap.

“What are we doing, Jamie?”

“We’re taking a bath.” He dropped his head and circled my nipple with his tongue. I didn’t stop him as he slowly kissed his way up my neck.

“I want to talk to you.”

“Talk.”

“How long should I stay here?”

“As long as you want.”

Wrong answer.

“Jamie,” I said in the most serious tone I could muster.

He pulled away and then cupped my face. “When do you have to be back?” I just shrugged. “Well, when do you have to turn in the article?”

“I should go back sometime next week, maybe Tuesday, to turn in the article, and then I don’t know what.”

“Well, today is Friday, so we have some time.” By that point Jamie was kissing me all over. Between nuzzling my neck and biting my ear, he said, “Doesn’t it feel good to just be . . . together?”

“Yes,” I said. And then I scooted forward and guided him inside of me.

After sloshing water all over the bathroom floor, Jamie picked me up sopping wet and carried me to the bed, pausing only to say, “This is one of the nicer rooms here. You have a view.” It was a gorgeous view, especially at that time of day when the sun had gone down but the sky still glowed with the memory of light. It was magic hour as we looked out at the expansive vineyard, with its endless rows of vines. It was like watching a Terrence Malick film: quiet, poetic, reflective, and the imagery overflowing with beauty.

Our bodies dried quickly. We fell back into lazy mode, like we had that morning. He kissed my back and shoulders and I flipped through a brochure of the winery while he explained the fermentation process to me. I learned everything I ever wanted to know about the difference between naturally occurring yeast and cultured yeast.

“God, Jamie, you could teach a class on this stuff. What was your major in college?”

“Seducing young journalists,” he said just before he disappeared under the covers.

• • •

I only remember hearing my room phone ring once. I was in a deep, comfortable sleep, nestled between Jamie’s arm and his chest. When he picked it up, he was abrupt. “Yes? Okay. Okay.” He hung up and I dozed off. I don’t know how much later it was, but I stirred in the middle of the night and felt the empty space beside me. I sat up. Jamie was still naked but sitting at the end of the bed with his feet on the floor. His elbows were propped on his knees, his hands holding his sunken head.

“Jamie?” I said as I shuffled out of the comforter and moved to the end of the bed next to him. He wiped his face. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

I kissed his back once. He turned immediately, stood, and lifted me from under my arms, tossing me up higher on the bed. I couldn’t see the expression on his face as he crawled up between my legs, but I could feel his intensity.

“Jamie . . .”

“Shh.” He kissed me hard and fast on the mouth, then moved down my body, rubbing his face against my bare skin between kisses. It was like he was consuming me and he couldn’t get enough. I tangled my hands in his hair as he moved down my body, kissing and sucking. He sat up quickly and then leaned back on his heels. A small amount of light from the moon was peeking through the side of the curtain and lighting Jamie’s face just enough so that I could see his expression. His eyebrows were downcast and his mouth was very slightly open. The movement of his chest pumping in and out looked dramatic as he took long, deep breaths. He stared down at me.

“What is it?” I whispered.

Without hesitation or words he took me forcefully over the edge. Reaching behind my bottom, he yanked my open legs toward his body and sat up on his knees, entering me at the same time. He stayed above me, looking into my eyes as he thrusted into me. Our breaths became louder and louder. I felt a yearning to have his whole body against mine. I tried to pull him down but he resisted. Instead, he brought my foot up to his mouth and kissed it gently, before extending my leg to rest on his shoulder. I was completely open to him and exposed as he took me over and over. Somehow, I felt totally unself-conscious. He held my leg against his chest and anchored his other hand on my hip, reaching his thumb down between us and drawing deep and deliberate circles until I was writhing against him uncontrollably. Arching my back, bringing our bodies a millimeter closer, I gripped the sheets and came hard, without shame.

I felt him tense as my body pulsed around his. He let out an exhausted breath and then collapsed onto me, burying his face in my neck. We were still for several moments while I held his big body, damp with sweat, against mine. He sank down lower, then rolled off of me and onto his side so he could take my nipple into his mouth. He kissed and sucked sleepily until I dozed off. With his head on my chest and my hands tangled in his soft hair, I fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

• • •

I felt alone before I knew I was. I rolled out of bed and opened the drapes. It was dawn and the light was almost as beautiful as it had been at dusk the evening before. I knew Jamie was gone, but before I turned around for visual confirmation, I stood at the door looking out onto the vineyard. My mind wandered back to the night before. Jamie seemed vulnerable and withdrawn sitting at the edge of the bed, and then suddenly undeterred, hungry for comfort, and a release. I looked around the room at the evidence of our night and wondered how, in such a short time, I could feel so connected to him. Clothes littered the floor, plates from our dessert covered the table, and notes that I had taken and informational pamphlets about the winery were strewn about. I figured Jamie must have gotten up early and gone to work in the vineyard. I took a long, hot bath and waited to hear from him.

At noon, I was starving and bored, so I decided to take my car into town. Driving was still a terrifying experience but it helped to roll down the window and focus on breathing in the clean, warm air. It was a perfect day to walk around the little town. I found my way into a used bookstore, where I discovered a copy of some of da Vinci’s published journals. I bought it for Jamie and then browsed the other stores on the street. It seemed like everywhere I looked, I was reminded of him. Seeing a couple holding hands, or eating in a sidewalk café, I thought of Jamie. On my way back, I visited three other comparable wineries and found that they all lacked the magic I found at R. J. Lawson. Perhaps Jamie was responsible for that as well.

When I got back to the winery, I noticed that his truck wasn’t parked in its usual place.

I headed to my room and found that housekeeping had already cleaned it. There was no record of Jamie and me in bed. It was made with the perfect hotel folds.

A feeling started building in my chest. I looked out the window and searched for Jamie among the many rows of vines. It started to occur to me that he hadn’t called or left a message. His truck was gone and it was getting late. I picked up the phone and called the front desk.

A man’s voice came through the receiver. “Hello, Ms. Corbin. How can I help you?”

“I was wondering if you could connect me to Jamie, uh . . . Jamie, the guy who works here.”

Oh my god, I don’t know his last name. I’m so stupid!

“One moment.” I exhaled, relieved that the phone was ringing.

“This is Susan, how can I help you?”

“Susan, hi, it’s Kate.”

“Hello, Kate.” She sounded weirdly apprehensive.

“I’m looking for Jamie.”

“Oh . . . well, Jamie had to leave.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure I can . . .” her quiet voice trailed off.

“Can you give me his phone number?”

“Kate, let me get back to you.”

“Get back to me?” I wanted to say,
Give me his goddamn
ed number, I just spent the last two nights naked in bed with him
. “Never mind.” I hung up and slumped onto the bed and waited for him to call.

What began as a tired sadness eventually morphed into anger. All of my feelings of insecurity came rushing toward me at once. The memories of our last conversation in the tub, Jamie acting dodgy, the girl in the restaurant—all of those thoughts hit me at full speed. I began breathing loudly, anxiety coursing through my veins, my heart beating out of my chest. He wasn’t coming back, I convinced myself.
Who would want me
? I was a shell of a person, plain and simple, not worth coming home to. Within a matter of a few days, both Stephen and Jamie had proven that to me.

I wouldn’t need to learn how to be alone. I knew how to do that, but I was mad at myself for believing that Jamie and I had something. He was too good to be true, all good things . . . blah, blah, blah. When I saw him on the edge of the bed the night before, I should have known he was contemplating something that weighed heavily on him. It’s not easy to crush someone’s heart, no matter how spineless you might be. I wondered if he had snuck out just moments after I had given myself to him in such a raw and emotional way. He had rested his head on my chest as I fell asleep. I had thought he was mine. Then he had left, and now I was alone again.

In roughly four days, I had gone from believing that I should live a solitary life to having faith in love. With every inch closer to Jamie, I had approached a greater sense of peace. I couldn’t explain how he had taken the pain of being alone away, but he had. Yet he had made no promises to me. I had believed that we had something bigger than words, that there was no need for conversation. I had believed, like a fool, that it wasn’t possible to walk away from what we had. I guess the pull I had felt was stronger than what we’d actually had, which was quickly turning out to be nothing. Isn’t that how it always is? The two parts inevitably make up one hundred percent, but that doesn’t mean that the parts are equal. Someone is always giving more to make up for the deficit from the other. That’s what blinded me—my own silly, romantic fantasy about a guy whose last name I didn’t even know. I had given myself entirely to Jamie, and he had left without even asking for my phone number. I stood in the middle of the room, stunned
.