Untouched: a Cedar Cove Novella (8 page)

I send him a quick text
to let him know the coast is clear, and ten minutes later, his red
truck comes speeding up the dirt road. I meet it at the end of our
driveway, hopping up into the passenger side almost before he's even
stopped moving.

“Hey,” I say,
breathless. I've got a smile a mile wide, but I can't help it.
Eagerly, I drink in the sight of him: worn white shirt pale against
his golden tan, muscles taut and straining under the fabric. He's
wearing faded jeans, and flip-flops, Ray-Bans on, and all the windows
down. I can’t help but bring my camera up, and snap a photo, right
there.

He looks like summer,
like everything good and bold and dangerous in the world.

Mine.

The world whispers in
my mind, but I push it down.
Don’t get ahead of yourself,
Juliet,
I warn sternly.
You don’t know what this is.

“Hey yourself,” he
grins, easy, and slides his hand around the back of my neck, pulling
me in for a long, lazy kiss. My heart is racing as I taste him, mint
and coffee, and something else, something all Emerson.

Last night was hot and
hard, but this is slower, languid. He teases my mouth open, his
tongue finding mine as his fingers gently twist in my hair. I exhale,
sinking into him, the sun beating hot and the stereo playing
something that sounds like summer.

“Hey,” I whisper
again, when we finally come up for air. “I missed you.”

I hear the words leave
my mouth and freeze, embarrassed, but Emerson's smile only grows
wider.

“You ready?”He puts
the truck back in drive, and then slings his right arm around my
shoulder. I snuggle closer, reveling in the touch of him.

“Ready for what?” I
ask, as he turns out of town.

“This is our first
date.” Emerson announces.

“Really?” I laugh.
“I thought we were a long way past that.”

Like, three bases
past.

I blush at the
reminder, and I can tell from his wolfish grin that Emerson's
thinking the same thing.

“A girl like you
deserves a real date,” Emerson declares. “Not just groping in the
dark somewhere.”

“In case you’ve
forgotten, I kind of liked the whole groping in the dark thing,” I
say, amazed at my boldness.

Emerson laughs. “Only
kind of? Sweetheart, if that was you kind of liking something, I
can’t wait to see what happens when you love it.”

“You'll just have to
find out then, won't you?” I tease.

“Oh, I will. Believe
me, baby. I've got plans for the two of us.” Emerson gives me that
look again, dark and wild. He curves his lips into a teasing grin.

I feel a rush of
anticipation, so strong I have to catch my breath and look away.

“So, where are we
heading?” I ask in a new voice, fighting to keep my heart from
bursting straight out of my chest.

“I know a spot,
inland, there's a place to swim, and sunbathe. Private,” he adds.

“Let me guess, it's
your regular hookup spot,” I say, feeling a stab of disappointment.

“No.” Emerson's
reply is simple and honest. Without looking away from the road, he
takes my hand and lifts it to his lips, grazing the skin of my
knuckles with a kiss. “You're the only one, Jules.”

I feel warmth blossom in my chest
like sunshine. I kick my feet up on the dashboard and sit back, in
the thrilling safety of his embrace.

The miles fly by, in
a haze of closeness and music and cool summer breeze, until Emerson
turns off the highway and down a dusty back road. We drive out into
the country, fields and overgrown woodland getting thicker as we head
into nature, with not another soul around. About ten miles down the
track, Emerson pulls off the road and parks up by the grass. He hops
down, and comes around to get my door, lifting me to the ground.

“Wait,” I say,
reaching up to loop my finger over the top of his T-shirt. “Got to
tip the driver.”

“Yes ma’am.”
Emerson grins. He lets me pull him down to meet me, finding my lips
with his, cool and soft and sweet. I lean back against the truck and
just revel in the kiss, so simple, out here, away from it all. We’re
alone with the birdsong, and the wind in the trees, with all the time
in the world.

Finally, I let him go.
Emerson fetches a blanket and a beach bag from the bed of the truck,
and then takes my hand and leads me out through the woods. We follow
a dirt track winding through the trees, with wild-flowers growing and
leaves shading the path. “You’ll love this place, it’s the
best-kept secret in town,” Emerson tells me, pausing to help me
over a fallen log. “Locals only, no outsiders allowed.”

“Do I need a special
pass then?” I laugh.

“Nope. I’m local
enough for the both of us.” Emerson winks at me.

We follow the path
another ten minutes or so, until we reach a clearing in the trees. I
gasp. The swimming hole is edged with reeds and moss, cool and clear
in the sun. A tree juts out over the water, with a tire hanging from
a rope. Sunlight dapples through the branches, falling in bright
patches on the grassy banks.

“It’s beautiful!”
I exclaim.

“You really like it?”
Emerson looks bashful. “I know it’s not fancy or anything—“

“Are you kidding?
It’s perfect!” I hug him. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

He kisses my forehead
then pulls away. “Last one in the water pays for it!” he calls,
stripping off his shirt and kicking his flip-flops aside as he races
for the pool.

“No fair!” I
protest, hurrying to pull off my dress.

Emerson charges into
the water with a whoop and a splash. I follow a moment later,
shrieking as the cold water hits my skin. I pause in the shallows.
“It’s freezing!” I call.

“Scaredy-cat!”
Emerson wades back and scoops me up, spinning me out into the deep
side of the pool. I fall in with a splash. My feet find the bottom
and I push back up, surfacing with a splutter.

“I’m going to get
you for that!” I yell, splashing wildly at him. Emerson dives under
and grabs my legs, lifting me up as I struggle, helpless.

“Oh yeah?” he
teases, “What are you going to do about it?”

“Hmm,” I pretend to think about
it. “Maybe, this!” I grab a handful of floating moss and algae,
and shove it down on his hair. Emerson laughs and falls back, arms
locked tight around my waist so we both plunge back into the cool,
clear water.

We splash around
until my fingertips start to pucker, then lay out on the blanket,
talking quietly and basking in the midday sun. I curl against
Emerson’s chest, lazily tracing the outline of his tattoos.

“I wish we could stay
here forever,” I breathe, gazing up at the sun-drenched green
canopy overhead. “It’s so peaceful, away from everything.”

And everyone.

Emerson turns his head
to look at me. He reaches over, and gently brushes a lock of damp
hair from my cheek. “Me too.” he sighs.

“You ever think, what
you’d be doing if you didn’t have to stay here?” I ask,
curious. He’s told me about Brit and Ray Jay, about being the only
one who can hold down a steady job – or three – to make ends meet
for rent and bills.

Emerson shrugs. “I
don’t know.”

“Think,” I
encourage him.“Anything, anywhere. Whatever you want.”

Emerson exhales in a
long sigh. “I don’t know,” he says again, “Maybe, go to the
city. Atlanta, or Charlotte. Somewhere they don’t know anything
about me. Or my mom.” He trails off, thinking. “I like it at the
bar,” he adds. “Jimmy’s a good guy, but we could do more, to
bring in business. Maybe I’d like to have my own place someday.
Something that’s all my own.”

“You will.” I lean
over and kiss him on the shoulder.

He shrugs again. “It’s
stupid, I probably shouldn’t even think about it.”

“What did I tell
you?” I sit up now, looking down at him. I place my hand on his
chest, above his heart, feel the steady beat, strong and true.
“Well?” I prompt, waiting.

His lips curve in a
soft grin. “It’s never stupid to hope,” he repeats my words
back at me, but there’s still a reluctance there, like he doesn’t
really believe it.

My heart aches for him.
Sometimes hope is all that gets me through, hope that one day, I can
make a life for myself without the coldness, and rejection, and
insecurity I’ve lived with ever since I was old enough to notice
it. Hope’s been my constant friend, the light at the end of the
tunnel. But Emerson gave up on hope, a long time ago. He doesn’t
even think he has the right, anymore.

I’ll just have to
hope enough for the both of us.

“You can do it, one
day.” I lean down, and gently drop a kiss on his eyelids, his nose,
along the line of his jaw. “I believe in you.”

Emerson tightens his
arms around me, holding me against his chest for a moment.

“What about you?” I
feel the question as a rumble. “College in California, right?”

“Right.”

There’s silence.
Suddenly, the future is a loaded gun, waiting for someone to pull the
trigger.

I lay there, feeling
the rise and fall of his chest. Funny, how just a couple of weeks
ago, California was all I could think about. Finally getting away and
putting the whole country between me and my past.

But now, that distance
would divide me from Emerson, too. Thousands of miles away from his
kisses, hours from his heartbeat.

I feel a chill cut
through the warm haze of this perfect day, and I can tell from the
new tension in Emerson’s body, he feels it too.

Two weeks.

How can things change
so completely in two weeks? Or, even less than that. A day, the first
day I met Emerson. The very first moment. We were strangers. I walked
around in this world, not even knowing he existed, and now leaving
the arms currently wrapped around me seems almost unthinkable. I
belong here, I know it, with every instinct in my body.

It’s too much to
think about right now, not when we’re having such a blissful time.
I push all my worries down, and trace the tattoos that wind across
Emerson’s bicep and side.

“I should get one,”
I decide.“A bird maybe. A sparrow, or a blue jay.”

“Jaybird, huh?”
Emerson repeats it with a smile. “You sure you’re up for it?
Hurts like a motherfucker,” he warns me.

“I can take it. I’m
strong.”

“Oh, really?”
Emerson laughs, rolling suddenly to pin me beneath him. My pulse
skips, feeling his delicious weight pressing into my wrists, my hips.
His mouth grazes down my throat, and I shiver, staring up at the
trees above us.

“Sure. I could take
you in a fight,” I tease, closing my eyes. His tongue blazes a
trail down my chest, nudging my bikini top aside. I let out a soft
moan as he licks around my nipple, soft and hot against my cool skin.
His body tenses above me, fingertips digging into my flesh, and I
marvel I have this effect on him.

The dark look in his
eyes is just for me. The catch in his breath, the low groan as I buck
my hips up against him… I’m doing this. I’m driving him wild.

Suddenly, I push my
wrists out, breaking his hold. I flip, rolling on top of him so I’m
straddling his lap. I pin his wrists against the blanket, looking
down at him with a teasing smile. “See?” I tell him, laughing.
“I’ve got you now.”

“You sure about
that?” Emerson thrusts his hips up against me, and now it’s my
breath that’s catching, feeling the friction, the ache twist
tighter.
Yes.
He breaks my hold, the weight of my grip nothing
to him. He sits up, wrapping his arms around me, trapping my arms
across my chest. I’m caught, helpless in his lap, feeling the heat
of his body all the way through me.

“Surrender?” he
teases, grazing his lips along my jaw. I twist to try and kiss him,
but he ducks back, holding me in place, forcing me to wait.

My heart races. Desire
is flooding through me, unfamiliar, but sharp and hot in my veins. I
want more of him. All of him. My body is aching, a way I’ve never
felt before, and everything I want is right here, in Emerson’s
eyes.

“Make me,” I
whisper. His eyes flash dark, and then he’s tumbling me to the
blanket again, body hard against me, and California and my future is
far, far away again.

We spend hours out by
the swimming hole, talking and kissing and touching. But neither one
of us bring up the future again, and no matter how close we come to
going all the way on that old blanket, I hold us back from the edge.

It doesn’t make
sense. She’s ready for it: curious and gasping under my kisses. All
I want is to possess her, completely, but something stops me from
taking that leap. I tell myself it’s to protect her: make sure
she’s truly ready, before crossing the one line she can’t take
back. The secret is, it’s not her heart I’m protecting here. It’s
mine.

“I don’t want to go
home, not just yet.” Juliet sighs, as I drive us back to Cedar
Cove.

I look over. She’s
heartbreakingly beautiful, sitting with her feet up in my passenger
seat. Her damp hair is drying in the breeze, and the afternoon sun
warms her skin. She’s smiling over at me, so carefree it hurts, and
for a moment, I think about skipping our exit on the highway and just
driving forever. Her and me, and the open road, nothing holding us
back.

But we can’t. I have
Brit and Ray Jay, and my mess of a mom, and she has a tomorrow
planned out that’s got nothing to do with me.

Pain strikes through
me, just thinking of her plans.

“So what do you want
to do?” I ask, reaching over and taking her hand. I squeeze it
tight, like I can hold her here, right in this moment, forever. “We
could go back to mine, have dinner with Brit?” I suggest.

Juliet brightens, but
then she pauses. “Are you sure that would be OK?”

“Sure.” I bring her
hand to my lips. “She was bugging me about meeting you again.”