Page 63 of Echoes in the Storm
“Gosh, not since I had Taylah.” I’d park at the base and walk the track every couple of months to keep my fitness in check, challenge myself.
But motherhood has that sneaky way of absorbing all your free time without you even thinking about it, and before I realised exactly how little I got for myself, I’d gained fifteen kilograms and consigned myself to a life of stretchy waistbands and comfortable footwear.
Taylah was my only concern, and as long as she was happy, I was happy, and in turn, Jared was happy. At least, I thought he was. I sometimes wonder, with how quickly our relationship broke down, if perhaps he wasn’t. Was Taylah’s death simply a catalyst for something that already lurked beneath the pretty exterior of our relationship?
“We should do the track before you go,” I say, rolling awkwardly to my side so I can face Duke.
He picks at the sausage roll laid out on the paper bag between us, tipping his head to the side. “I guess we could do it on the weekend.”
“Sunday,” I confirm. “Because Saturday I’m in the theatre all day.”
“Deal.”
A while passes where neither of us say a thing, too busy picking at our food and staring out at the patchwork of green that covers the flat farmland beyond. Yet I don’t feel uncomfortable in our silence. With most people, the lack of conversation gets to me, niggles at my subconscious until I feel panicked into saying something, picking up where the dialogue left off in case the other person is bored by my presence. But with Duke, I feel as though he doesn’t expect anything of me. As though the sheer fact we’re here together, sharing this amazing view, is enough.
Duke scrunches up the rubbish and twists to his side, reaching around the car to toss the bag in the open passenger’s window with a flick of his wrist. I lick my fingers, eyeing his body as he elongates himself.The guy is seriously smoking hot, and I have to bite down on my finger to remind myself that this isn’t some fatigue-induced dream.
“Satisfied?” he asks as he rolls onto his back, his head turned my way.
So much.“Feeling good. Thanks.”
He extends his closest arm to me, gesturing for me to scoot closer. I slide across the warm metal and tuck myself against his side, resting my head on his bicep. He hums, a melodic sound from deep in his chest, and closes his eyes. “This is nice.”
I close my eyes also, inhaling the woody scent of the forest around us mixed with Duke’s musky cologne. If perfection could be defined as a moment, a coming together of the senses, this would be it: Duke’s smell, the warmth of the dying afternoon sun on my back, his heartbeat beneath my hand, and the sound of the birds as they move through the trees. It’s perfect harmony, inside and out.
I relish the peace it brings me, loving the way we don’t need to speak to enjoy each other’s company. I let my eyes slip closed and tuck into Duke a little tighter as I allow myself to relax completely. Before long I’m fighting the pull of sleep, sated and warm against his side.
“What time do you have to be at the theatre?” Duke asks quietly, his eyes still closed.
I prop myself up on one elbow and look at his gorgeous face as he relaxes in the sun. “Half five.” His lashes are dark, his cheekbones strong. He has a classically masculine appearance that adds to his intensity when he watches me with those rich brown eyes of his.
I’ve never liked being the centre of attention all that much, but I find that as I stare at Duke, wishing he’d open his eyes and look at me, that that gaze of his is what I appreciate the most. The way he looks at me as though I’m the sole focus of his attention, the centre of his world—while he’s here in Burbank, at least. Knowing he’s leaving, that the feeling won’t last? It hurts. Still, I choose not to ruin the now with the what-ifs of the future.
I lean in and place a kiss to his cheek, adding another to his lips. He comes to life as he reciprocates, his lips teasing mine with quick, short sweeps. I pull back to find his eyes open, that chest-warming gaze fixed squarely on me. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”
“As long as you think so, what does it matter if I know it or not?” I’m sceptical, sure he’s wrapped up in a bubble of lust that won’t last. But hey, I’m not going to stop him if he chooses to see only the best parts of me for now.
Duke reaches up, tucking my hair behind my ear. His fingers linger on the side of my neck, the very tips dancing a line between my earlobe and collarbone. It’s soft, sweet, and so damn sensual.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For making me take the day off. I didn’t realise how much I’ve missed out on around here until you made me stop to look at it all again.” I drop to my shoulder, tucking in tight to his side again.
“You notice a lot when you pause long enough for everything to stop spinning.”
“That you do.” Like how I’ve kept myself shut off from love, thinking I could never deserve to feel that kind of tender connection again.
Jared was the one to walk, but I handed him my heart to take with him. If he didn’t want it, neither did I. But at the time, I was heartbroken, and I couldn’t see how I’d ever have need for it again.
Not until now.
“We better get moving if we’re going to cook you something better than pancakes for dinner again.” Duke silently chuckles under my touch.
“Don’t dis the fare, man,” I tease. “Those pancakes sustained me for most of my twenties.”
He shifts, jostling the arm underneath me until he lies on his side, propped up on one elbow. “How old are you, Cam? That’s one thing we’ve never discussed.”
“How old do you think I am?” I love this game …
He traces my cheekbones with his thumb, his eyes roving over my face. “You seem like an old soul, so I’m going to guess … mid-twenties.”