Seeking Me To Find You (Finding You Series Book 1) (11 page)

At this point, all I’m starting to hear is, “Blah, Blah, Blah” because as she is bending down, she sticks her sweet ass out. It makes me want to come up from behind and caress it. She has no clue how sexy she looks with her hair pulled up and stray wisps gently blowing in the wind. Just the innocent movement of her tucking a loose strand behind her ear makes me want to lose it.

“Jackson, are you coming?” Snapping my head up and meeting her eyes, I say to myself in barely a whisper, “Not yet baby. Not yet.”

Adam continues his circuit by pointing out hermit crabs, mollusks, sheep crabs, and even a small octopus. Grace bends down, pointing to a shell. “Adam, what type of shell is this?

“This is a shell of a sea urchin. When it dies or its body gets eaten, the spines fall off, leaving this delicate and unique shell. It is often a favorite of many of our visitors.”

Adam stands up and brushes his brow. “I say we head back up now that the tide is starting to come back in. We don’t want to get caught out here.”

As we walk back to the shore, I stop Grace. “Grace, see out in the distance? Right over there is Catalina, and over there is San Clemente Island.”

Unexpectedly, Grace throws her arms around my neck almost knocking me back.

“Thank you Jackson for such a lovely day. I just wanted to thank you in case I forget later.”

Embracing her back I whisper in her ear, “If I have anything to do with it, we will have many more days liked this, babe.”

Looking ahead, Adam makes a motion of a whip being cracked.
Asshat.

*

As we head
back to the kayaks, silence befalls us again. We exchange casual glances as our bodies inadvertently touch while we walk. My mind wonders if she knows the bewitching power she has cast upon me. I have a sense my future is shifting so fast I’m at risk for being thrown off my axis. Plan? This was not my plan. I’m content with my career and life as it lies, however I am finding myself searching for a way to make this angelic puzzle piece fit.

As we make the delicate motions of entering the coastal waters again, I notice Grace staring in the distance. Scanning the horizon, I catch a glimpse of what has caught her eye. Coming back into the harbor is a tour ship. On the bow of the boat is what I presume to be a father with his young daughter, maybe two or three, on his shoulders. The little girl is gesturing to the waters and bouncing up and down. Following the track of the little girl, I see there are two dolphins swimming alongside the boat. My thoughts go back to Grace. Her look is of a longing desire touched with a hint of sadness. Just then I realize that there is a story buried within her that I hope she will eventually entrust me with.

We continue for a while longer, paddling and taking in the vast scenery. The shoreline is thinning out due to the time of day. I don’t want this to end, but I know that she has to be getting hungry, or at least thinking about dinner.

“Grace, are you ready to head back?”

As if I jostled her out of a deep thought, she turns to me and says, “Whenever you are.”

*

We get everything
loaded back into the truck. As I am getting in, I notice the she is already buckled in with her tiny hands in her lap. She is looking out the window like she is search for something. Maybe it’s something that just caught her eyes, or a thought she is trying to form.

Turning to me with almost a melancholy state, she quietly speaks. “Jackson, this is the most relaxed I’ve been in such a long time. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“I thought you said you’ve been kayaking?”

Quietly laughing, “That’s not what I meant. I’ve never just gone out with a person, really a stranger, like this. However, when you asked me to come, I felt like I would be safe. I felt like I had known you for a great while. Last night, I tossed and turned wondering if I’d made a mistake. Again, I didn’t have a clue about who you really where except the owner of a very flirtatious lab. I must admit that I did send Nate a text with your name and condo number in case I went missing.”

“I bet that went over
great
with him.”

“A got a call at two-thirty in the morning. I told him that since I was being cautious he shouldn’t berate me. I explained that this is nothing different than what I’ve always done. After about thirty minutes of him lecturing me, I hung up. That has always been my way of telling him that he’s being an ass and that enough is enough.”

“Well, I’m glad you said yes and decided to stow away the mace. I’ve had a wonderful time with you today. I can truthfully say that I’ve never been this relaxed with a girl. Usually girls are worried about their fingernails breaking, getting muddy, or just wet. You’re a rare beauty that has drawn me in.”

Reaching across the seat, the feathery kiss that I had intended turned more ravenous.

Grace

T
he fire that’s
engulfing me is overwhelming but comforting at the same time. I start to lose myself in this entanglement and relinquish more of myself to him. My heart’s rhythm misfires and my head begins to swim. Too soon Jackson pulls back. The copper that is melting in his eyes mesmerizes and warms me in places that have lain dormant all my life. Touching my swollen lips, I contemplate how, or if, he can fit in this mess I call my life. How can I be wondering this when I’ve known him less than a minute? It could be that I’m reading too much into this, yet the look he is giving me indicates his thoughts are as addled as mine. From the bulge he’s sporting, he’s just as affected by our contact as I am.

Both of us slowly turn facing forward in our seats. I place my hands loosely in my lap. Without warning, Jackson gently leans over and lightly captures my hand with his. We begin our journey back home, in silence, hand in hand.

*

As Jackson pulls
his truck outside my condo, dysphoria overtakes my body. I really don’t want this to end. I’m starting to question my emotions.
Have those emotions mislead my heart into thinking this day was more than what it really was?
Just then Jackson releases my hand and unbuckles his seat belt. As he opens the door, the absence of his body stifles the air in the cab of the truck. I see him make his way around the front and then open the passenger door for me.
Maybe if I don’t move, this day can continue. Or he may think of me as a psycho and call the cops to remove me from his truck.
Before I can unbuckle my belt, he reaches over me and undoes it himself. The aroma of spice and sweat invades my senses. A sudden flood of emotions saturates my core, making it throb while my breath quickens. As if deciphering my cues, Jackson pins me against the seat using his hard body. Unable to move, I become even more aroused. As his sensual mouth devours mine, his rough hands stake their claim to my breast. Feeling him lose control makes me forget that we are parked out in the open where anyone can see us entangled in each other. Pulling back out of the cab he places his hands on his knees as if he just finished a marathon, breathlessly apologizing.

“Why the hell are you sorry?” I spout back at him. “If you didn’t want to do this, why did you even start?” I push past him, trying to fish my keys out of my bag. My hands are shaking so bad that I fumble my keys, sending them tumbling into the bushes. “Shit! I cannot believe this!”

Feeling strong hands on the back of my arms, Jackson hooks me around to face him. “Why are you so upset?” he asks quizzically.

“You’re sorry! You’re sorry you took me out. You’re sorry you got me all hot and bothered.”

Placing one of his fingers against my lips he makes a “shush” noise.
Did he just shush me?

“Sweetheart, you have it all wrong. I’m
so
not sorry for spending the day with you and I am
so
not sorry for doing this.”

Jackson takes my face in his strong hands and slowly kisses me. Pulling back we meet eye to eye. “What I’m sorry for is forcing myself upon you in front of all God’s creation. You deserve much more respect than what I just gave you.”

Hypnotized by his resplendent glare, I breathe, “I’m a big girl. If I didn’t want you to force yourself upon me, I can assure you that you wouldn’t be able to walk, let alone stand, right now.”

With a Cheshire cat smile, he turns and walks away.

“Wait. Where are you going?” I say as I stomp like a tantrum possessed toddler. “We’re not finished here.”

As he continues to walk away, he yells over his shoulder, “Gotta check on the mutt.”

“Are you coming back?”
Is that a whine in my tone?

“Not soon enough, Sweetheart. Not soon enough.”

I grapple my keys because my hands cannot seem to find the keyhole. Forcing the key in, I quickly unlock the door and immediately close it. As I start up the stairs, I briefly pause, glimpsing back at the door. I have to contain myself to keep from running back after him. “Get yourself under control,” I say out loud. “You spend an afternoon with a gorgeous man and you want to run after him like a fish after a worm.”
Ooh bad example. From the look at the front of his pants there is no worm hiding in there.
Get a grip, Grace.
My inner voice chastises me. Oh
I could get a grip.
Shaking my head, I continue my way to my bathroom. A nice, cold shower should be able to contain the fire within.

As I start to suffuse my sun kissed skin, my mind drifts back to how his rock hard body pinned me against his seat. I recall the feeling of his bulge bearing down on my right thigh. I start to glide my soapy hands down my thighs and back to my stomach. The flood of emotions causes liquid to pool between my legs. I find my hands traveling to my core where I begin to press and encircle my hardened clit. I envision Jackson thrusting his fingers inside my primed body as I take my other hand and tweak my nipples. I start to sense the warmth building in my core, which then starts the journey up my body, spreading out to every nerve ending. Descending from my delicious high, I hear my door bell calling me back to reality.
I cannot believe I just had an orgasm by just imagining a man that I’ve known less than a minute.

On shaky legs I turn off the traitorous water and reach for my robe. Making my way down the stairs, I have to consciously take each step one by one because my body is so markedly relaxed. Rather than another bell, a forceful knock booms.
Who in the hell could this be?
I squint out the peep hole, scrutinizing the heavenly form that exists on the other side. I gradually open my door and I am held breathless by the overwhelming man that stands before me with a single, full-bloomed, and thornless, pink rose.
He cannot know the meaning of this exquisite token.

Jackson

A
s the door
opens, I’m thankful that our landlord’s father had planted rose bushes around the patio. Larry almost didn’t rent us this place because of Thor. He explained that after his mom passed away, his father, who’s in an assisted living facility, planted James Galway roses in memory of his late wife. He explained that a light pink rose conveys admiration, sweetness and grace. I assured Larry that Thor had never dug or chewed on anything, despite a Labrador’s reputation. Larry was concerned that even if Thor was not a “digger”, he would cock his leg and yellow the bushes. Fortunately for us, my wimpy dog never got the motion of lifting his leg. He still squats like a girly dog.