The Italian: A Mountain Man Romance Page 15

  My apartment was furnished with color. That was its only scheme. The couch was brown with three throw pillows, each a different color: pink, orange and purple. The low seat was brown as well, though the blanket on the back was green. The curtains were blue and the vase on the glass table was red.

  “Thank you,” I blushed. I hadn’t given my interior design skills much thought, but after being freed from a house that lack any warmth or color, I wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by it.

  “So, where are we going?”

  “Well, I thought about some places I’ve never been and I figured that maybe,” he said, handing a helmet to me, “you’ve never been as well. I checked the weather forecast. No rain today, so as long as you’re okay with it, we’re going to drive away.”

  “That sounds great,” I said, pulling on the thick protection.

  “So,” he said, throwing a leg over and backing out of the parking area, “I’m taking you to the Grand Canyon. Ever been?” he looked over his shoulder, beckoning me to get on.

  “No, actually,” I said, sliding into place behind him and wrapping my arms around his body.

  “Good. Me neither.” I jumped as he revved the engine. “Hold on,” he called out as we propelled forward.

  I didn’t think I could ever get used to the feeling of flying when you’re on a motorcycle. It was nothing like driving in a car. I felt freer and more exposed. With my body against Evan’s, I felt more in tune with him and the bike. We leaned together into a curve as he drove, and I’d never felt more trusting in my life. Unlike Ethan, Evan didn’t swerve in between cars or try to speed up when he saw yellow lights.

  “You okay?” Evan yelled back at me.

  I really was. I didn’t mind the wind and I liked how the sun felt on my skin. We drove a little over an hour before Evan finally pulled to a stop. My feet hit the solid ground with the grace of a newborn doe and I wobbled, feeling like the world was moving under my feet.

  “It takes some getting used to,” he said softly as he held me up. After a few moments, he took my hand and pulled me forward. “It’s better if you walk it off,” he said, leading us to the park entrance.

  He paid and once inside, he still held my hand. “I hope this is worth it,” he said pulling me through the crowd and towards the metal guard rails.

  “Wow,” I whispered.

  Rocks lined the earth as far as my eye could see. Ten thousand feet below were fissures of sand and rock in all shapes, sizes, and color, forming something marvelous and beautiful. Ribbon-like fissures lined the gorge with their wind-carved texture, and not far off, a waterfall tumbled, white in the desert light. The water lay upon the canyon floor, passing over minerals and stones—a deep, meandering river fed by a myriad of tributaries. Trees and saplings lined the sides, a company of green for the winding aquamarine, leading toward a lush valley that blossomed into an earthy vibe.

  The wind howled and my hair stood on edge as I was pushed forward, the only thing keeping me from falling was a guardrail and the heated warmth of the man beside me.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, pulling my eyes from it to look to Evan.

  “There’s definitely nothing like it,” he said, staring into my eyes. “Let’s see some more.”

  Together, we moved along the rails, further down from the crowded entrance, and looked on. The rugged canyon boasted clinging bushes and vines in some places, barren rock in others. If you squinted, you could see springs bubbling on amber gold colored rocks. A river cut through in the distance like a thin silver serpent, flanked by sandstone.

  “This is amazing. I can’t believe I’ve never seen this before.”

  “It’s amazing what we don’t know is in our own backyard,” he said.

  “I agree.”

  We stayed for an hour, looking over the rocks and taking pictures. Only when Evan heard my stomach growl loudly did we leave.

  “Where to now?” I asked, putting my helmet on.

  “You’ll see,” he said as the engine started.

  I found myself less worried as we rolled downhill.

  We drove onto a hidden dirt road and through low hanging trees. Evan drove slower, driving more carefully on the dirt so I didn’t have to yell for him to hear me. “This isn’t the part where you kill me is it?”

  He chuckled and shook his head no. “Absolutely not.”

  I tried to trust him as we pulled the bike to a stop just under a weeping willow.

  “Where are we?” I asked, dismounting. This looked a lot like private property.

  “Some place I used to know.”

  “We’re not trespassing, are we?” I had no interest in being shot at or arrested today.

  “Nope.”

  “You sure?” I asked, following him as he walked confidently towards a small wooden cabin.

  “Positive.”

  The door creaked open loudly, and I stayed back as Evan patted the wall for a light switch. When he found it, he fanned the air of dust and coughed before inviting me in. “Come on.”

  “Uh-uh. Not until you tell me whose cabin this is.”

  “This was my father’s.”

  “Oh,” I stepped inside. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust. It was clear we were the first occupants in several years. “Where is he?” I asked.

  “In the ground,” he said stiffly. “He passed away a long time ago.”

  “Oh. I’m so sorry.”

  How is it that no matter the situation I always somehow manage to bring up someone who is dead in this man’s life? I had to do better. This was a date for God’s sake. How is it that I was unable to flirt like every other girl? This is what you get for getting married at nineteen. Now you don’t know how to do anything normal.

  I looked closely at the small cabin. It was furnished, though it was quaint in size. There was one couch and a TV so old the back protruded at least a foot and the top housed silver antennas.

  “This was his favorite place in the world. He liked to go fishing,” he said, finding a rag and wiping a chair down for me to sit on. “I haven’t been here in years.”

  “Well, I feel special now. This place obviously means a lot to you.”

  “It does,” he said as he opened the cabinets. He didn’t speak for a while as he took out some cans and a small pot. “I thought a lot about where I wanted to go with you. This place was nearby and I figured it was a good excuse to visit again. I hope you don’t mind canned food.”

  “I’m not bourgeois,” I said, putting my hands on my hips.

  “Good,” he said smiling. “Then you won’t mind the evening skinny-dipping either.”

  I gulped and thanked God I shaved this morning.

  “Nope. As long as you promise me there aren’t any alligators in the water.”

  He chuckled. “It’s a natural spring. You can literally drink right from it, and it leads nowhere. Guaranteed, there are no alligators or crocs.”

  “Good then.”

  He moved around the cabinet decisively and went out the back to a small pit. The side of the cabin had tarp-covered wood, already chopped, and he threw it into the pit and worked up a fire.

  “You really know what you’re doing,” I said as I watched him in awe. He didn’t need my help at all.

  “I like working with my hands,” he said, dumping a can of ravioli into the pot and setting it in a blacked metal rack that held the pot over the fire.

  I wondered what else he could do with his hands and smiled at the nasty things I came up with in less than 30 seconds. He had no idea that I was thinking of stripping him in the woods.

  “Here you go,” he smiled, handing me a fork.

  We ate out of the small pot together, sitting side by side in companionable silence. I could only guess what was on his mind as we chewed without needing to talk.

  Evan

  All she was doing was eating. Just eating canned ravioli and yet I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Just watching her eat had turned me on. I ate silently, th
inking of all the girls I’d dealt with. Easily none of the one’s I’d considered seriously in the past two years would have even thought about eating anything canned. She didn’t even question it. I tried to look out of my peripheral vision so she wouldn’t catch me staring. I liked her and I shocked myself with just how much.

  I liked the way she smiled to herself. I liked the way she was unassuming about everything. I liked how her big eyes took everything in and how sexy she was without even trying. I liked how she didn’t try to fill in the silence with aimless discussion or talk just to hear herself talk.

  She just… Ate. And together we watched the clouds pass along in the sky. That was the most relaxed I’d felt in a while. The past few months had felt something close to stagnant. Every day was the same. Some variation of the club, the gym, and home. I didn’t like it, and I hadn’t known how to fix it. Kaylen was a beautiful surprise, and I enjoyed how much she shook up my world.

  After washing the pot and quenching the fire, I unlaced my boots.

  “We’re taking off our shoes now?” she said, unlacing her own.

  “Yeah. Where we’re going, we won’t need them.”

  Once standing, I took her hand again. I couldn’t help myself. It felt like second nature walking with hers in mine, and I had to remind myself that she technically wasn’t mine. If she was, I would have pulled her to my side, but then, I was just content with holding her hand. I couldn’t tell if it was me or her, but her hand felt like it was burning my skin. In a good way. I could barely put words to it, but somehow, my world was revolving around the axis that was our connecting hands. Strange but not so uncomfortable that I’d wanted to pull away.

  The forest path was wide, the trees were separated intentionally for firewood. The sunlight shone down brilliantly with the intense heat usually reserved for beaches and tanning without the benefit of a cooling breeze from the water. But all that changed after less than ten minutes of walking. Suddenly, the trees canopied up with shade and the early blooms of berries that weren’t edible. The sky vanished almost completely, only a few fragments of blue remained like scattered pieces of an impossible jigsaw puzzle. The air was rich with the fragrance of leaves.

  We walked into a seemingly open crevice without a trail. But it wasn’t. I’ve had a map of this entire forest stored in my head since the years of scavenging with my dad and on my own. It didn’t matter how many plants grew or how many trees fell down, I could find my way in and out of here. There were several dead-end trails and small hidden troves under trees that were secretly hallowed out.

  I took in the colors with unshielded eyes and I offered my hand to Kaylen to assist her over fallen trees and wherever the path gave way to rocky steps. Roots crisscrossed, gnarled, and snaked in uneven patterns across the forest floor in imagery reserved for picture books, and it was as beautiful as the first time I ever came here. It felt a lot like magic. I could admit I tended to live in high tower of concrete, but my heart was and will always live right here. Here I was my best self, forgetting to protect myself.

  The only movement was that of the occasional bird, startling in a tree, or a squirrel dashing up a nearby trunk. The running water of the brook had the same hypnotic quality as music; I wanted to stop just to drink in the sound. I took in all the air my lungs will hold and expelled it slowly. These hikes in the forest were like a trip out of my life, a visit to somewhere the measuring of time was done only by the rising and setting of the sun, and Kaylen was beside me every step of the way. I normally preferred to walk this trek by myself. The only company I’d made an allowance for was my father, and now he was gone. No one, not even my mother or my twin brother walked this path with me, and sharing it with Kaylen felt more like a glimpse into my soul rather than an intrusion.

  “Do you know how to swim?” I asked, disturbing the blanket of our silence.

  “Yes,” she whispered, understanding the magic of this place.

  “Are you afraid of heights?”

  “Um,” she hesitated. “Depends.”

  “On?” I said as we came to the edge.

  “How high.”

  “Not that high,” I smiled to myself. I’d climbed this ledge countless times. It was like the jump at the end of the staircase to me. It looked high, but I’d come to trust I wouldn’t fall to my death or break any bones.

  She looked unsure. “Will you go with me?”

  There was nothing more I’d rather do. I didn’t want to let go of her hand, not for one jump, not ever.

  “On three.”

  “One,” she said.

  “Two.”

  “Three,” I pulled her in a running leap forward.

  For a few precious seconds, we were suspended in the air, limbs flailing, mouths agape. Kaylen squealed and I laughed loudly. Then the cool water hit our heated skin. We rose to the surface with hair plastered to our faces, spitting water like animated water fountains.

  Kaylen laughed and instinctively, I pull her snug to my body. I didn’t feel the pain in my right hand; I could only feel her as I paddled my legs beneath us.

  “That was fun,” she said breathlessly. Something in the way she sounded, the way her face was inches from mine, breathing the same air, caused my pants to tighten. My wet jeans provided no barrier as I hardened underneath her.

  “This place is beautiful,” she said, looking up to the sky. I could see water droplets chasing each other down the column of her neck, and the truth fell out of my mouth.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  Kaylen’s eyebrows shot up as she turned from the sky to catch the lust in my eyes. Before she could backtrack, I cupped her neck and intertwined my hands between the wet strands of her hair and pulled her close. I licked the last place I saw those water droplets trailed. My tongued licked up the column of her neck and across her jaw until my lips found hers. I hadn’t meant to maul her or lose control, but when her tongue snaked into my mouth, I lost it. The hot feeling of her skin against the coolness of the water. I growled into her mouth, tracing her tongue with mine, sucking on it and forcing my hands under the suctioned tightness of her t-shirt. I could feel her hardened nipples in my hand. I wanted her so bad, but I couldn’t. The jeans I wore were disastrously restrictive. Her hand played against the smoothness of my back, sending shivers down my spine. I could feel her body quivering in my arms and I was willing to bet money she was wet and willing. If only I could. I sucked on her bottom lip, willing myself to let go and all too soon, I let go of her open and eager mouth.

  Everything between us was bliss. I wanted to hold onto that moment for a lifetime.

  I turned and floated on my back.

  “Do you know how to float?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered, and hand in hand, we floated. The ethereal blue sky our new center.

  “Tell me something?” she asked.

  After moments of silence I replied: “Anything.”

  “Tell me a secret.”

  I decided to start off strong. “I hate that people can’t tell the difference between me and my brother. Now you.”

  “I’m divorced.”

  I didn’t see it coming at all. She couldn’t have been older than twenty-five.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said, interrupting my silence. “I look too young. But I made a poor decision at nineteen and only recently fixed it.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. Wow,” she repeated. “Your turn.”

  “My mother has dementia.” That was a mood killer if I’d ever heard one, but for some reason, I wanted her to know. There was a long pause. I didn’t know what to say, but I wanted to say more. I was grateful that we were floating on our backs. It felt like I could have been talking to myself. I risked a glance to my left and saw that she was staring at the sky too.

  I wanted her to see my vulnerable side and I wanted to know what she thought of it. I spoke in a tone just above a whisper. “My mom has dementia, and I fear one day she’ll forget that there’s two of us. You know? P
eople already think we’re just like one person.”

  “Evan, that would never happen,” she said, turning over and pulling me close to her. “Your mother couldn’t forget giving birth to you two. I’ve never given birth myself, but from what I’ve seen, it’s a life changing event. She would never forget you. You’re not your brother. You’re you, and I see you. You’re not your brother.”

  I could see the sincerity in her eyes. She was serious. “Now you.” My hoarse voice whispered.

  “My husband told me I was worthless and that no one would ever want me. He told me I was bad in bed, that I was a bad wife and…”

  I couldn’t stand to hear another negative word come out her mouth. My fingers moved on their own to cover her lips and she froze.

  “You are none of those things.”

  “And I’m afraid that he’s right.” Her voice trailed off like she was afraid to say anything else.

  “I’m sure that’s not true. There’s no way you can actually believe that.”

  She resumed her position and we floated together, free of gravity. There was something freeing in floating. Relaxing until the point of being able to drown and yet not. I was aware of the time; I’d always had an internal clock. I sighed heavily, resigned to having to leave this moment.

  “Time to go,” I said. She nodded before swimming out to shore.

  The heaviness of my jeans only got worse as I stepped onto the man-made bank. The sand crunched in between my toes. I turned back to see the water one more time before I left. The way the sun shone off the rippling brook, its golden light warped in the twisted, glass waves. No description can truly capture its majesty, and few words can express its beauty.

  “We’ll be able to watch the sunset from the road, but in the forest it’s not as safe at night. She nodded and unconsciously held out her hand. I took it, and together we walked back to the cabin. The heated air dried us somewhat, and within minutes, our shoes were laced and we were driving back.

  We were facing the horizon when the sun set. There was nothing but open road, and the stillness of nature boldly lighting the heavens. Scarlet, then amethyst emblazoned the enormous sky, then it darkened to obsidian. As the night deepened, fireflies blinked more frequently until the canopy below, billowing in dark waves, sparked with benign, green embers under a star-speckled sky. Kaylen moved closer, snuggling against my back, and we watched the horizon, faces aglow with traces of soft smiles.