See You in September : The Refuge Series Book One Read online

  His eyes came back up to her face. He said, “I like your red toenails. They’re sparkly.”

  “Thank you,” she replied. The whole time he had been checking her out she had been doing the same to him. His chest and stomach were a work of art. His arms, simply huge with ripped muscles abundant. He had a tattoo on one arm that read Live Free or Die Trying around a Marine Corps insignia.

  He wore only a pair of shorts, slung low on his hips. The predominant ‘V’ disappearing in the elastic of the shorts. He screamed man with a capital ‘M’.

  “What is your tattoo about?”

  “My unit’s motto. I’m afraid we all have it. I can’t even blame it on being drunk. I was perfectly sober and felt every stick of the needle. Damn near broke me. If I hadn’t been with a bunch of my guys, I probably would have been hugging a teddy bear and crying.” He laughed at the memory.

  Cheri liked his laugh. It was deep and ran through him like a ripple in the water. She wanted to hear it over and over again. “So you’re a Marine?” she asked.

  “Once a Marine, always a Marine, ma’am. I’m not active anymore. I finished my tour and left to find myself. What’s your story, fair Cheri that lives next door?” Cheri took a large gulp of her wine.

  “That’s too long and boring to tell in the wee hours of the morning over a glass of wine. I’m sure you’re far more interesting. Have you found yourself?”

  “A few times. Reinvention seems to be my forte. I’m the epitome of the saying ‘when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.’”

  “I admire that. Are you here for a week?” she asked, and then emptied her glass.

  “No. I’m in-between projects so I rented for a month. I needed to get away and regroup.”

  “I know the feeling. This is the place to do just that. Well, the water and wine relaxed me. Thank you. I should get going. I guess I’ll see you around, Gareth,” she stood and extended her hand.

  “Gareth Marshall, in this cottage over here, at your service, fair Cheri,” he said taking her hand.

  “Cheri Winslow,” she said smiling, choosing to drop her ex’s name from hers. Now, in her mind, he was really gone.

  Chapter Three

  With the dawn, Cheri went for her usual walk. The ocean storm sent untold treasures in her direction. It was a good thing she had a basket with her, because she was filling it as she made her way down the beach.

  She had several sand dollars and stones collected when she saw part of a beautiful pink shell buried in the sand. Finding a stick, she began to scoop the sand away from the exterior of the shell. As she dug deeper, her inner child began to do a happy dance. It was starting to look like one of her prized conch shells. She was going to hit the shell-lottery.

  As she lifted it from the sand to examine it for color, a shadow passed over her. Looking up from feet to face, pausing to take in all of the important areas, she saw Gareth looking down at her. “Holy mackerel!” she let slip before her brain could register and stop her declaration.

  “Thanks, I think,” he said, smirking.

  “You heard that, right?”

  “Sure did. Makes all the effort I put in worth it. What did you find?”

  “A prize -worthy conch shell,” she said, holding it up for him to get a good look at it.

  “Nice. Tell me something,” he said looking sincere.

  “What’s that?”

  “If I were to put my hands on you, pull you to your feet and perhaps kiss you. Would a two-hundred-pound husband come out of ‘that cottage over there, the white one’ and pummel me into the sand?” he asked with a smile.

  “No. No one would give a crap if you put your hands on me. No one at all,” she sighed.

  “My gain,” he said placing his hands on her shoulders and helping her to her feet. He lowered his head and kissed her sweetly. Releasing her, he continued, “I thought you were a vision last night. Maybe even a mermaid that had a day on the land, and was going back to the sea. I followed you down to the water’s edge to catch a glimpse of you swimming away, perhaps a flip of your tail in the waves.

  “Imagine my surprise when you turned out to be real. Not only real, but also spectacular, funny, and smart. Now, Cheri from the white house over there, I have to learn more if I’m ever going to get a good night’s sleep while I’m here. Dinner’s at seven. Don’t be late or the crab will be overcooked and tough.”

  “You’re pretty sure of yourself,” she said to his back as he began to run down the beach.

  “You can stand me up, but remember…I know where you live…in that cottage over there, the white one,” he called over his shoulder in a dead run.

  Cheri washed up her treasures in the kitchen sink. Her plumber would have a cow if he ever saw her doing this. She dried everything with care, got out the stepstool and placed her new pink conch on the top shelf overlooking her bedroom. She figured she could lie in bed and see it. That would please her to no end. In the past two years, she had become accustomed to taking pleasure in the small things. Big things were usually fleeting.

  Cheri took a shower and changed into a pair of white shorts and a blue top that tied in front, showing some skin when she moved. She had made a fruit salad for herself and Gareth, and bought some lemon Italian ice to go with it. Shuffling into her flip-flops and grabbing the offerings, she walked next door.

  Making her way up the two steps to his door, she heard him.

  “Fuck!” (loud bang) “Son of a bitch, that hurt!” (more bangs and clunks) “You Goddamn piece of shit!” Her chuckling brought his attention to the door. “Sorry, you heard all of that?” he asked sheepishly.

  “Afraid so. Can I help with something before you lose a finger or two?” she snickered and walked in the kitchen.

  “Yeah I know, it’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye. I’m sorry; I’m not a great cook. I can make two things. Crabs and trouble. Tonight it’s trouble, sorry.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine. I do like your colorful language, though. I brought some fruit salad and Italian ice.”

  “Good, we won’t starve,” he said smiling. Cheri helped him to resurrect his dinner, and a few minutes later, they sat down to a table covered with newspaper, a pot of crabs and dishes of melted butter.

  “This is good,” Cheri said, wiping the butter from her chin. Then she popped a fry in her mouth.

  “You’re too kind. If you’re giving points for effort, then I accept the compliment,” he said stripping off his shirt and tossing it on an extra chair. “I should explain. I don’t like clothes and take them off as much as possible. I only wore the shirt in case I came in contact with the boiling water.”

  “Why don’t you like clothes?” she asked, curious.

  “If I get something to fit the biceps, shoulders and pecs it’s way too big for my waist. I look like I’m wearing a garbage bag. I try to find athletic wear, but not everyone carries it.”

  “Makes sense. You have to be comfortable. I know how this sounds but how did you get so big?” she winced as she asked him. His laugh filled the room. It was rich and full and she felt it wash over her with warmth.

  “In the service. I was in special ops. It was part of my training to get so big. Now I just try to maintain, I’m not looking to get any bigger. Now I want to know, how’d you get so gorgeous?” he asked looking at her eyes. He was diving in them. Sapphire blue with a black circle around the edge. Deep and mysterious.

  “You must have had a lot to drink before I got here. Mind you, I’m not fishing for compliments, but are you sure you didn’t stick your head in the pot of boiling water?” she said completely seriously. Again, he was laughing, even louder than the last time. She was going to make sure he did that as often as she could.

  “You have butter on your chin. Come closer and I’ll get it for you,” he said lifting his napkin. She leaned to him, he wiped her chin, and then he kissed her. He backed up slightly, looking in her eyes, and said, “Delicious, just like I thought you would be.”

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bsp; “Do you think if you tried you could be a little more seductive?” she breathed against his lips.

  “Who are you, Miss Cheri Winslow? I have been happier, more entertained, yes and even laughed more, in the last nineteen hours than I have in the last five years. Tell me who you are.”

  “I’m the girl from the cottage over there, the white one. That’s all I am.” He could see the sadness pass through her.

  “Okay for now, Cheri,” he said unwilling to push her right away. She cracked a crab and water squirted all over his chest.

  “I’m so sorry!” she yelled bringing her hand to cover her mouth. He laughed again and wiped the napkin down his chest and stomach.

  “Good thing I took off the shirt. I don’t know if crab pee comes out of your clothes,” he said. Now it was her turn to laugh hysterically. He watched her throw her head back and really let it go. The sound far more beautiful than any piece of music he had ever heard.

  “I’ve never heard of crab pee. I haven’t had this much fun in a very long time either. If you weren’t chasing a mermaid last night, I would have never met you. So, thank you for rescuing me,” she said, and he had no doubt that she meant every word.

  They finished their dinner and she helped him clean up the mess they had made. Cheri folded up the newspapers with the empty crab shells and the crab pee that had wet the papers through. She began to laugh quietly to herself again at the thought.

  “And what is so funny?” he asked standing behind her.

  “Crab pee. I will forever remember crab pee.”

  “I’m hoping you’ll remember a lot more than that,” he said moving her hair aside and kissing her neck once.

  It felt good. It felt right, to be here in this man’s company. It felt better than anything had felt in a very long time.

  They went outside to sit on the deck and listen to the ocean’s song. Gareth got up and moved his chair closer to hers. Taking his seat again, he reached over to hold her hand. “That’s better,” he muttered.

  “Have you ever been in love?” she asked so randomly he gave her a quizzical look.

  “I’ve been in serious ‘like’ and want you badly. But love is a forever, powerful and complete ‘like.’ I’ve never gone quite that far,” he answered honestly. “What about you?”

  “I thought I was. I married him. I probably would still be married to him.”

  “But. What happened?”

  “I came home one day, unexpectedly, and he had company in the shower with him.”

  “Was she someone you knew?”

  “No and she was a he,” she said turning to look at him.

  “Oh boy. Was he bi-curious, bi-sexual or just flat out gay and hiding it?”

  “I don’t know. I never spoke to him directly again. He called and called but I didn’t listen to the messages. It was our third anniversary.”

  “That must have felt like a punch in the gut. I don’t know what he was thinking. If you were mine, no dick in the world would fascinate me. I am one-hundred percent a fold man,” he said, once again causing her to giggle.

  “A fold man, is that right?”

  “Yes ma’am, all the way.”

  “Well, Mr. Fold man, I should get going. Thank you very much for dinner and the entertaining conversation was superb,” she said standing.

  “I’ll walk you home to make sure no mermen are out there waiting to capture you.”

  “Mermen? You have one active imagination,” she said. They walked hand-in-hand back to her place. He kissed her gently at her steps. She said, “Good night.”

  “Good night. By the way, I was thinking about going skinny-dipping around midnight if you’re still up and want to join me. I’ll be the one with the full moon on the beach,” he said walking away before she could reply. She just shook her head all the way through the door.

  Chapter Four

  Naturally, because he said if she was up to join him, she couldn’t sleep and was indeed awake at midnight. Cheri walked to her front door and looked out at the beach. She couldn’t see much and there was definitely no full moon to be seen.

  Cautiously, she opened the door and walked out on her porch. Gareth heard that somehow less annoying squeak of her door, so he knew she was out looking for him. He was in the water, just in case she did come out to play.

  He could already feel he was headed down the road of serious like. This woman was the kind you brought home to meet your mother. He liked her even more because he had given her his correct name and she hadn’t batted an eye.

  He was renting this little cottage next door to a Goddess-mermaid, and she didn’t have a clue that he was the most sought after new director in Hollywood. He had just come off a string of six hit movies, all grossing millions over their expected takes.

  Last weekend’s bash had been a wrap party for his latest gem. The hordes of beautiful people had been his actors and crew. Ironically, the monstrosity of a house next door was actually his. He hated it as much as the locals did. That was why he hadn’t stayed there.

  He’d learned a valuable lesson when he’d had the house built, sight unseen, from three thousand miles away. The architect’s plans had looked great on paper, but the end result was a multi-million-dollar nightmare.

  When he saw her walking towards the water’s edge, he said, “Ariel, is that you?”

  “Very funny. When are you taking your act on the road?”

  “Never. I’m not an ‘on the road’ kind of guy. I’m liking this beach business. I’m going to figure out how to sell salt water and make a billion,” he yelled from the water.

  “Very clever,” she said as a pair of swim trunks hit the sand at her feet.

  “Are you coming in, or what?”

  “Did you just throw your swimsuit at me?”

  “I did.”

  “So you really are skinny-dipping?”

  “I am. Are you coming in?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Then I’m coming out,” he said standing up and walking towards her. Cheri immediately put her hands over her eyes as he splashed through the water towards her.

  “Are you peeking?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are,” he said softly laughing.

  “I swear I’m not peeking.”

  “But you want to, don’t you? You want to see me naked. Tell the truth,” he challenged her. Cheri was an officer of the court. She felt compelled by the laws she helped to uphold to tell the truth.

  “Yes, I want to see you naked.” It was a good thing it was dark; he couldn’t see the blush of embarrassment color her cheeks. He stood right in front of her. Lifting his hands to hers, he pulled her hands away from her eyes and then lifted her chin to look at her.

  “Open your eyes.” She did as he asked. “Look down.” She shook her head. “Do it.” Again, she shook her head, smiling. He folded her in his wet arms and kissed her deeply, she opened to him as he swept his tongue over hers in a delicate dance.

  She responded so perfectly to him. This was a woman who should be kissed often. Her feeble moan spurred him on to even deeper depths of yearning. Before he became lost, he pulled back. Locking eyes with her, he smiled and said, “I have another suit on, Cheri. I would never mortify you so badly. If you want to see me naked, you’ll have to ask me for it.”

  “Who are you?” she murmured, giving him back the words he’d asked her.

  “I don’t know. A completely different man than the one who arrived here five days ago.”

  The morning brought a light fog that hovered a few feet off the ocean. It gave an eerie glow to the water below it. Gareth looked out at the tide coming in and made coffee. He was bringing a cup to his neighbor as a ruse to spend the entire day with her.

  He was up before dawn and had been to the local bakery to pick up some fresh croissants. Balancing the two cups and the bag of goodies plus butter and jam, he crossed the sand, thinking he should have looked through the cupboards for a tray. Too late now.
r />   He walked up the two steps to her porch and set everything down on the small table there. He gave a solid knock to the squeaky screen door and stepped back. Gareth was well aware his stature was formidable. That, and the fact he was a man, sometimes made petite women like Cheri nervous. He had some experience with this being a problem, and he was cautious not to intimidate her.

  Walking up to a couple of bullies on the street and helping them to see the error of their ways, he had no problem with that. But this woman intrigued him. This was going to be a September to remember.

  That captivating, smiling face came to the door and opened it. “Morning,” Gareth said. “I made coffee and I brought croissants. Care to join me?”

  “Never once in my life have I turned down coffee. You constantly surprise me. I can’t believe you made coffee,” she jabbed.

  “What’s so hard about making coffee?” he asked, opening the door so she could join him.

  “You’re kidding, right? You have to crush the beans in a grinder, measure precisely how much you need and place it in an organic filter. Pour distilled water in the reservoir because it’s free of chemicals and calcium and makes the coffee taste so much better. Then you press the button and wait for the fragrant brown liquid to drip into the carafe.

  “The aroma surrounds you, and just when you don’t think you can wait one minute longer, it finishes and you can pour it in a cup. But before you can take it into your mouth to savor the richness of the work it took to grow the beans, you give thanks for the existence of coffee,” she said with a flair all her own.

  “Are you going to have an orgasm right here in front of me over coffee?”

  “Coffee is orgasmic.”

  “Sex is orgasmic. Coffee is a drug. Use it cautiously. Coffee is consumed so you can lull your body into liking morning or confuse it into thinking you aren’t tired.”