His breathless words surrounded me in a cocoon and warmed me to the core. They released a swarm of butterflies in the pit of my stomach, drowned me in a wave of unbridled desire, and had me so turned around I could very well have been trapped in a tornado. I was shaken and tongue-tied to the point I couldn’t say anything without giving away his effect on me, so rather than speak, I slowly shook my head and prayed that he understood the gesture.
“I know it’s kind of late…” he muttered as he checked his watch. There was no telling how long I’d pretended to read, so I had no clue what time it was. “But I was hoping you might want to hang out. I would’ve come sooner, except I was stuck at The Feeder.”
I glanced down at my well-worn tank top and tried my best to ignore the oily spot just above my left boob where a drop of tartar sauce had fallen off a fry. “Yeah, sure. Absolutely.” I paused to take a breath, hoping that would calm my nerves and slow my excitement. For all I knew, he needed a partner for beer pong, and I was the only available person he could ask. “Just let me change my clothes real quick.”
He carefully assessed my outfit, taking a bit longer to observe the cotton house shorts that only barely covered what they needed to. When he met my stare again and spoke, his voice dipped even lower, grittier, raspier. “You don’t have to.”
Coherent thoughts refused to form. I couldn’t bring myself to open my mouth, roll my tongue, mold my lips, and repeat any of the countless words I’d learned in my lifetime. Instead, I dropped my chin and headed for the comfort of my cabin. Without meeting his eyes, I opened the door and invited him in. And much like last night, I pointed to the couch in a silent command to sit while I scurried off to the bedroom to change.
Less than two minutes later, I returned in a pair of jean shorts and a clean shirt. Drew seemed to appreciate my change of clothes—if the grin playing at the corners of his mouth meant anything. Then again, it only lasted a split second. As if realizing his reaction, he quickly stoned it and averted his gaze, keeping his attention set on the floor between us. “That was fast.”
“Well, I mean…I don’t know what we’re doing or where we’re even going—if anywhere—so I just grabbed the first thing I found.” With his refusal to look at me, everything became awkward.
Drew ran his hand over the dusting of dark hair along his jaw and chin before finally finding my eyes. And once he did, the heat from his stare melted away whatever discomfort had been between us. “The weather’s nice, so I thought we could watch a movie on my dock.”
That definitely caught my attention. I wasn’t sure how feasible it was, but I certainly wanted to find out. He was right about the weather; it was nice, but it paled in comparison to the company. “Yeah, that sounds like fun. What movie?”
“I figured I’d let you choose. I have an arsenal of titles, so you shouldn’t have trouble picking one.”
Not wanting to give myself time to chicken out, I slid my feet into a pair of sandals by the door and followed Drew to the golf cart.
Unlike our earlier drive to his house, this one was spent without a word shared between us. The silence seemed to stretch on and on, and I wanted it to end, so I uttered the first thought that came to me. “If you don’t mind me asking, why do you want to give all this up?”
We must’ve been closer to his place than I realized, because before he could answer, he brought the cart to a complete stop and turned off the ignition. Subtle moonlight peeked through the branches and used the trees surrounding us to cast shadows on his face, hiding his expression from me. “It’s meaningless at this point.”
I prayed for some way to see him, to see his eyes, for the tiniest chance to read his thoughts. I needed his expression—the lines in his brow, the creases beyond his lashes, the curve of his lips—to help me direct this conversation. However, my angels delivered something else instead.
I set my hand on the cushioned seat between us, not realizing that his hand was already there. The warmth of his skin cut through the cool breeze that rustled the leaves around us. The connection was strong enough to keep me from pulling away yet soothing enough to settle my nerves and allow me to continue.
“From what you said last night, it sounds like your family has put their whole hearts into this place. And I imagine at one point, you have, too. Just because you don’t feel that their initial purpose is still valid, it doesn’t mean you can’t create a new one.”
Drew flipped his hand over so that his lay on top of mine. The warmth of his palm seeped into my skin, heating my entire body like a match. A fire. A blazing inferno. One simple touch to one part of my body had the ability to ignite in me flames of desire, comfort, and as odd as it sounded, a mystifying understanding. When he spoke, his voice covered me like a protective veil—a heavy blanket made of thick wool, shielding me from harmful elements.
“You said yourself it’s a lot of work for two people. Which is true. Normally, we get by just fine. We each get two days off a week, and most of the time, we waste the rest of our days away in the office with our feet propped up. We have twenty cabins, and in two weeks, twelve will sit vacant. Next week, ten. If we are at half capacity, then it’s a good week for us. Dad and I still have the same responsibilities, except it takes a quarter of the time to do it.”
“There are so many ways to get your name out there that could help this place stay busy. I don’t see why you can’t have fifty-two weeks like this one. This place is beautiful, Drew. I’ve only been here two days, yet I already feel like I belong. I can’t be the only one who comes here and gets this sense of hope and purpose.”
He squeezed my hand and blew out a sigh, making it clear that he was over this conversation. I couldn’t fathom any reason why he’d toss all this to the side without at least giving it a chance to flourish. But I was in no position to argue with him about it—what he did with this resort had nothing to do with me.
“I’m sorry, Drew. I didn’t mean to pry. I just see so much potential in this place.”
“Why are you so interested in it?” His tone seemed weighted with irritation, although his touch—and the way he ran the pad of his thumb over my knuckle almost lovingly—spoke of emotions that were nowhere near negative.
Before the shock of his question waned enough to answer him, a bulb affixed to the corner of the roof came on and bathed him in a warm, soft light. It was just enough to see his tranquil expression, proving that his inquiry was nothing more than simple curiosity.
He glanced over my shoulder toward the corner of the house where the light came from and laughed to himself under his breath. “Stupid cat,” he muttered as if to explain the sudden interruption. “I have no idea where it came from, but he’s been coming around every night. He rubs up against that corner of the house, and as soon as the motion light flicks on, he takes off. You’d think he’d learn by now, but he hasn’t.”
I wanted to laugh with him, participate in this bunny trail and forget all about our conversation. But I couldn’t do anything other than watch him, lost in the sight of him staring off into the distance, as if he could see where the cat went. And as much as I wanted to sit here with my hand in his as the trees rustled around us like our own personal ballad, I knew I couldn’t.