My Once and Future Love Read online

  That smile wouldn’t sway me this time. “Let me check in first.”

  He sighed. “Alright.”

  He plopped on the couch in front of the TV and reached for the remote. Rolling my eyes, I left through the back to climb over the wall again. No one was in my yard or showing through a window, so I dropped to the ground and hurried to my room. The pencil was where I left it, allowing me to get back inside. I dressed properly, then reached for my make-up.

  Caking on concealer hid the hickey a bit more, but not entirely, so I’d still need to be careful to keep my hair over it if I ran into my parents. I loaded a roll of film into my camera and left it on my desk next to my purse.

  My room was at the start of the hallway to the bedrooms. There was a bathroom between mine and my brother’s old room, then Mom and Dad’s was at the end. I walked out to the front to check the driveway first. No cars, but one could be in the garage.

  A note was stuck to the fridge:

  Elizabeth,

  We went to see the nutritionist for your mother’s new diet. Then we’ll stop at the store.

  Dad.

  Okay, I guess I wasn’t needed. New diet? Fighting cancer required specific food? Well, whatever worked. If eating powdered duck bills upside-down would kill the cancer, I’d feed it to her myself.

  I left my own note about spending a few hours with a friend, grabbed my stuff, and left the house, using the sidewalk to get to Jacob’s this time. His door was unlocked.

  “So?” he asked.

  “They weren’t there.”

  “Lucky me.” He turned off the TV.

  I followed him to the garage where his mother’s car was stored. “Aren’t you going to lock the front door?”

  “I’ll do it after I move the car. Have to put the lock on the garage, anyway.” He pushed the garage door up. There was no automatic opener. He opened the passenger door for me. “Hold that,” he said, and dropped a padlock in my lap.

  He backed the car to the end of the driveway, locked both doors, and pulled onto the street once it was clear, then tuned the radio to his favorite local rock station.

  It was a half-hour drive to the beach he’d chosen, one of the little places you took stairs down to with some tide pools and a bit of sand. The only other person there was a diver going into the water just as we took to the stairs. The air was at least ten degrees cooler than inland and smelled fresher than at the sunbathing beaches. Though I wasn’t really a swimmer, the peace of the waves always called to me.

  Jacob sat on the last step to take his boots and socks off. I sat two steps above him and pulled my camera out of my bag. He continued stripping down to a pair of black swim trunks.

  “Join me?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t do the ocean.”

  He shrugged and stood on the sand. “Your loss, pet.” He took off at a run and dove into the waves, coming up again where the water was armpit high.

  He was gorgeous wet in general, and here the sun was making his eyes crystal blue and glowing like beacons. I raised my camera to my eye and zoomed the lens on his face, now in profile. He dove into the waves again. The water was gentle today, not even making peaks. I wondered if he could see the diver under there.

  I kept an eye to where my boyfriend was, but turned my camera to other subjects—a hermit crab, a couple anemones in a tiny pool, the carving of the cliff wall to the beach. Capturing nature in interesting ways fascinated me and I liked when a photo of something natural looked like it could be something else. Focused on the view through my lens, I didn’t notice he came up behind me until he shook his wet hair like a dog.

  “Hey! Watch it!” I jumped away from him and shielded the camera.

  “Should keep your ears open, love,” he said, grinning. “Give us a cuddle.”

  I evaded his arms. “No, you’re wet!”

  “Didn’t seem to mind a week ago.”

  “That was in the shower.” I dodged another grab. “Stop it. Expensive equipment in my hands.”

  “So put it down.” He stalked me like a cat.

  I could make a break for it, but he was a faster runner and had a bit of a stride advantage. Didn’t want to run with the camera, though—it was Mom’s. “I don’t feel like playing right now, Jacob.”

  He sighed. “Fine. What do you want to do?”

  “I was doing it before you interrupted me. Sorry we have different interests.” I so didn’t need his craving for attention right now.

  “Just horsin’ around. Don’t have to be a bitch about it.”

  “I’m not being a bitch. I was protecting my camera.” Now I wished I drove. The camera strap went around my neck and I turned for the stairs, grabbing my bag on the way up.

  There was a fruit stand across the road where I could sit in the shade. He could swim until he grew gills for all I cared…no one got away with calling me names.

  For once, he didn’t chase after me.

  What, I’m not worth chasing?

  Whoa, there, with the crazy talk.

  Well, he never lets me have the last word. What am I supposed to think?

  And even as I thought it, I saw him wait for a car to pass, then jog across the road. He was dressed again. I stopped peeking and pretended to find a cantaloupe very interesting.

  “Let’s go, Bethie.”

  “Huh? Oh, hi. Hungry?” I walked to the register and requested, “One basket of the strawberries, please.” The girl handed me the berries in a paper bag in exchange for my money.

  “Done?”

  “Yes.” No cars were coming, so I crossed at a walking pace. “Where are we going?”

  “Home.”

  I had to open my own door this time.

  “That’s mature.”

  “Don’t want to waste your time.”

  “God, you’re such a drama queen.”

  He drove onto the street. “You’re more interested in being with your parents right now. I heard it in your voice when you came back to the house. The camera’s just your way to avoid thinkin’ about it.”

  “They teach you that in Psych 101?”

  “Beth, you didn’t talk the whole way down here.”

  “You had the radio on loud!”

  “So turn the bleedin’ thing down. Known you long enough to know when you’d rather be elsewhere, pet.”

  “Sorry if my mother having cancer is inconvenient for you.” Of all the… If we weren’t so many miles from home, I’d get out of the car right here. “This morning was nice. I’m not the one that ruined it.”

  He shook his head and exhaled, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. Seriously, there was nothing he had to have a tantrum about. I wasn’t the one picking fights.

  Back in LA, he dropped me off in front of my house. I slammed the car door and stomped inside, not caring if he left or not. My parents were in the kitchen putting away groceries.

  “Hi, honey,” Mom said.

  “Have fun, Elizabeth?” Dad asked, his head in the pantry.

  “Took some shots. I’ll be in the dark room unless you guys need anything?”

  “Nope.”

  I nodded to Mom and took my camera into my brother’s former bedroom. The roll I happened to have was only twenty-four exposures, so I’d gone through it fast.

  Working in the darkroom was therapeutic. Everything was timed and measured. Structured. Mom and I worked with an amber safelight to see what we were doing. As long as the light was at least four feet from the paper, there were no problems.

  First, I had to load the film on a reel in the dark. To process the negatives, I needed to put it through pre-soak, developer, stop bath, fixer, wash, wetting agent, and drying for at least four hours for them to harden completely. We hung the sheet with a weight at the bottom to straighten it. The strip could then be cut into individual images.

  It was around one o’clock when I started, which meant I could check the strip around dinner time to see about making prints. The AC vent was sealed off in this room to he
lp the drying process, so the duration was usually shorter in summer.

  An enlarger was used to project the image of a negative onto a base for printmaking. A sheet of photographic paper was exposed with the enlarged image from the negative. The exposed paper was processed, first by immersion in a photographic developer, then halting development with a stop bath, and fixing it in a photographic fixer. The print was then washed to remove the processing chemicals, and dried. We spaced the prints out on a clothesline.

  I left the room and came upon my smiling mother.

  “What did you use this time?” she asked.

  “Color. It was what I had handy.”

  “I look forward to seeing them.”

  “Where’s Dad?”

  “Playing nine holes. He needed some man time after the visit to the alternative health center.”

  “I thought you were seeing a nutritionist?”

  “We did, but that’s where she’s at and we talked about stuff other than pills and injections. Research says you have better chances with a positive outlook, so we discussed spiritual wellbeing, too. That kind of thing makes your dad uncomfortable.”

  I followed her into the kitchen. “I can imagine. So, what’s this fancy diet?”

  “Completely organic, with the nutrient ratios specific to my body type to keep my strength up once I start chemo.”

  “But we don’t know that you’ll need that, yet. The doctor said--”

  “I’m just preparing. I’d rather expect the worst and be surprised by the best. Besides, the food is still good for me either way, so it won’t hurt.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  How she could think about the badness, I didn’t know. It terrified me.

  She showed me the recipes in her new cookbook and talked about the yoga instructor she met. I guess once she had a path, it was full steam ahead.

  We made dinner when Dad came home, then I went back in the darkroom.

  I worked on print after print, slowly seeing my subjects revealed. The photo of Jacob standing in the water took my breath away, and I wondered again why he wanted me as a partner. He could rule the world with his charisma and ambition.

  I was just a scared young girl.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It had been a very cozy morning until Beth saw the hickey on her neck. Could he help it if he got lost in their passion and forgot about appearances? Wasn’t that supposed to be a good thing? Then, once the mood was broken, she wanted to run home.

  Yeah, she’d only been a legal adult for a little over a month, but couldn’t she try for a little independence? Everything was “what about my parents” even before her mum got sick. He didn’t wish ill on her mother at all and understood the worry, but…he didn’t want to be used for comfort, and that’s what sneaking around felt like.

  ****

  I went over to Jacob’s with my fresh prints and knocked on his door.

  “Hey,” he said. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Hey. I have the pics from today.”

  “Already?”

  “They dry fast in the heat.”

  “Oh.” He’d changed into a black tank and there was a smudge of dust on his forehead.

  “Been packing?”

  “Yup.”

  Wow, talkative. “Sorry to interrupt.” I turned to leave.

  “Wait.” He touched my arm. “You can come inside.”

  “Okay.”

  Boxes were spread out in front of the bookcase in the living room. One shelf was empty. More boxes were by the standing curio cabinet. AC/DC Back in Black played on the stereo.

  “Do your parents know you’re here?” He turned the music down.

  “They were busy when I left.”

  “I see.” He went to the bookshelf; grabbed a few books to put in the box.

  “Why are you mad at me today?”

  He paused mid-crouch. “I’m not mad.”

  “Sure have a funny way of showing it.”

  He sighed, placed the books in the box, and stood. “I’m not mad. I don’t want to be a secret, Beth.”

  “What secret?”

  “Have you told anyone we have a relationship?”

  Was it corporeal enough to label? We certainly weren’t just friends anymore, but this was so new, so…we’d really only had one date. I didn’t know where we’d be now if I hadn’t asked him to take me to bed the night before I left.

  “Not exactly Miss Popularity.”

  He shook his head, and grabbed another few books. “That’s what I thought.”

  “Should I put an announcement in the paper? I don’t know what you want. I’ve been home less than a week and most of that time has been centered on Mom.”

  He sighed again, his back to me. “Forget it.” He crossed into the kitchen and washed his hands in the sink. “You brought prints?”

  I looked down to the envelope in my hand. “Yeah.”

  “Spread ‘em out,” he said, nodding to the table.

  I complied, carefully setting them down into four rows. They weren’t bad on the whole, but not my best. He dried his hands with a dish towel and came to look.

  “Nice.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You got a couple of me.”

  “Yep.” He never took a bad photo. Unless I screwed up, an image of him was always going to be beautiful. It was just the way he was made.

  “Mum’s arriving tomorrow. The house starts getting shown for real as soon as we clear out the personal crap.”

  “Oh. She’s serious, then.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’ll have nowhere to stay when you visit.”

  He looked away from the photos to me. “Guess so. If visits are wanted.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “I’ve seemed…inconvenient to you all day, Beth. I know I came without warning, but I feel like I’m intruding.”

  I rubbed my forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “Wow, you can read a lot into one day.”

  “Can’t help how I feel.”

  I gathered the prints and put them back in the envelope. “You’ve been gone for two years, Jacob. Yeah, I have a life. Of course there’s room for you, but it’s not going to fit like before. God, give me a little time.”

  He touched my cheek. “Why is the only thing I’ve got figured out is how to touch you?”

  I shook my head, just as lost. We were like magnets—once close enough, we couldn’t resist each other.

  “No more walking around in my underwear,” I said, sliding my hands up his shoulders. It’d all be alright when he kissed me.

  “Nope. Pity.” The breath of his words brushed my lips before we made contact.

  ****

  The kiss ignited between them. Jacob lifted her to sit on the dining table. Her legs wrapped around his waist. He ground into her center, eliciting a moan from her throat. Her nails pressed into the back of his neck where she held on.

  His fingers went to the buttons of her shirt. He needed to feel her perky little breasts in his hands, see her arch her back when he flicked her nipples. She made the cutest little sounds when he touched her.

  The bra joined the shirt on the floor. He leaned her back to trail his kisses down her cleavage and suck on a pink bud. One of her hands tunneled into his hair to hold his head to her breast.

  “Don’t stop,” she moaned.

  Never.

  The silk of her skin, the pleasure written on her face, the feel of her clinging to him with equal desperation—these were things that made a man drunk, made him believe he could exist off of passion.

  Love was grand.

  She sat up. “Need you.”

  “I’ve got you, baby.” He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.

  She grabbed the hem of his singlet and lifted it over his head, then nibbled on his chest.

  “Love to bite, don’t you.”

  “You’re yummy.”

  He dropped to his knees and unfastened her shor
ts, then pulled them down her long legs. “Pretty tasty, yourself.”

  Always took the knickers with the pants. Bare to him, he licked her center, swirling his tongue around the firm little nub in front. She clutched his hair. It stung, but that wasn’t a bad thing.

  “Oh god…”

  He hummed in approval, proud she was calling on deities when he’d barely touched her yet. Nudging her legs farther apart, he slid one finger inside her, then another. She cooed and thrust her hips toward his mouth.

  “You’re beautiful like this,” he said.

  She looked at him with wide eyes, panting puffs of air while her hips moved to a rhythm she couldn’t contain. He could feel she was close, and slowed down. Her head fell back as he twisted his fingers to massage different places inside her quim.

  Her legs gave out; he eased her back onto the bed.

  “You want more, baby?”

  “Please…”

  He stopped touching her and stood. She looked up, panicked, until her eyes dropped to his hands on his belt. She stared at his groin as he dropped his pants and kicked off his boots.

  Hungry girl.

  He rolled a condom on his prick and approached the bed. She slid back so her legs weren’t dangling off the edge, her eyes still fixed on him. He crawled on the bed and folded and spread her legs.

  “Stay like this, love.”

  He pushed inside her and had to pause. She was still tight after only two nights of sex and the tension around his dick made him want to shoot his load like a virgin. In control, he started moving, pressing as deep inside her as he could touch.

  “Ohhh…”

  “Knew you’d like this, kitten. Still close?”

  She nodded with vigor. Good.

  He wanted this to last. He deliberately avoided rubbing her clit with his thrusts, the internal stimulation keeping her at a peak, but not letting her crest over. She thrashed beneath him, her moans getting louder as she got lost in their passion.

  “Please-please-please…”

  “Don’t come, Beth.”

  “Why?”

  “Trust me.” He wanted this orgasm to make her unable to move from his bed and he’d settle for nothing less.

  Only when he couldn’t hold out any longer did he slip a hand between them to finger her clit. Two brushes of the slippery pearl and she exploded, wringing his prick and crying out loud enough to be heard outside. He felt the tremors inside her for at least a full minute.