14. Margot
FOURTEEN
Margot
P resent Day
W hen my eyes opened, I felt a heavy warm hand cocooned around my palm. I smiled. It was Caleb’s. I thought we somehow managed to touch hands or fingers all night. It was involuntary. If his hand fell away, I reached for it. If I rustled in my sleep, he found me again. It was like the dream I’d had a hundred times since the last time I saw him.
“Good morning,” he whispered. He spent the night in the wooden chair while I took the cot.
“Good morning.” I didn’t want to drop his hand.
A nurse entered the room, beaming. “How is everyone?” she asked. “It’s a new day. A beautiful day. Let’s open those shades and get some light in here for our little friend.”
“Sounds good.” I grinned at her. “I’m glad the sun is out.” I wondered if that would help him.
I looked over at the small patient. His eyes remained closed. I marveled at his eyelashes and how peaceful he was. I stretched. Before I could ask the nurse for an update on his vitals or how he was doing the room turned to chaos.
Two strangers shoved the door open and burst inside. One of the women threw herself on the bed over the little boy. Her purse fell off her shoulder. Keys dropped to the floor and her wallet spilled after it.
“Lucas! Oh my God! Lucas.”
“Mom?” he croaked.
“Carrie, you’re squishing him,” the shorter woman with her scolded.
I stared, trying to figure this out. Caleb’s hand landed on my shoulder. “Do we leave?” I asked him. “What do we do?”
He shrugged. The pair continued to squabble over space and if she was crowding the boy. I couldn’t believe Lucas’s eyes were open. There was too much happening at once to comment on it. The nurse ran out to get one of the doctors, praising the Lord’s miracles.
I couldn’t get my bearings now.
“He’s my son, Iris,” she hissed, smothering Lucas with kisses and rubbing his arms. “My son.”
Iris took a step back from the bed.
I thought I would feel relief when the parents arrived. Instead, I felt territorial and as if they invaded our calm space. We were the ones who created the healing perimeter for Lucas. I didn’t know what to say. It didn’t feel like a healing place any longer.
“Are you—are you the ones who found him?” Iris spoke to us directly.
Caleb stepped forward. “Yes, ma’am I’m with the Coast Guard, Captain O’Connor. I received an emergency call yesterday. This is Margot Delaney. She’s the one who saw him tip and swam out to pull him out of the water. She’s really the one who saved him. She saw the Sunfish go over.”
“I—we don’t know how to thank you. I don’t think we could thank you enough.” She seemed aware that Carrie was still crying and fussing over Lucas. She needed to speak for the mom, but I didn’t know who she was either. “I still can’t understand how this happened. He’s a good sailor. A strong sailor. Does it every year at camp.”
“K-kids,” I stammered. “Unpredictable I guess.”
Iris reached into her purse and shoved a wad of bills toward Caleb. “Here. This should cover all your trouble. Any expenses.”
Caleb’s hands waved her off. “No, ma’am. I can’t and I wouldn’t take your money if I could.”
He pivoted to me, trying to give me the money instead.
“Oh no.” I shook my head. “No, I’m glad I was there.” I fought off the memory of what I was doing at the window when the Sunfish caught my attention. Of how angry I was. Of how I wanted to burn and destroy every copy of every book in the house. The shame was a record on repeat. It hadn’t left me yet.
“But you stayed all night?” She looked confused. “You didn’t have to do that. You should take the money.”
I cleared my throat. “No, no money. We wanted to stay.” I pushed down the questions about why it took so long for them to get here. Why didn’t they know he was missing?
“I’m Lucas’s aunt. Carrie’s sister,” she explained. “Are you sure you don’t want the money?”
“Absolutely.” I was firm.
Caleb and I needed to leave. There wasn’t room for us here now. No one was forcing us out, but I felt the squeeze in the air. The replacement of Carrie and Iris. The mother’s fear and emotion were taking over every inch of this room.
“Well, I hope he recovers quickly and you’re out of here soon.” My smile was weak as we stood in the doorway.
“Wait!” Lucas’s voice was stronger than I expected.
I looked over at Lucas. His cheeks had color and his blue eyes were vibrant. His mother stepped to the side. “Hey, buddy. Glad you’re okay,” Caleb called. “Good call on the life jacket. Always keep that on.” He gave him a thumbs up.
“Can you come here?” His eyes locked on me.
I nodded and walked toward the railing of his bed. “What’s up?”
“I saw you sleeping there last night.” He pointed to the wrinkled cot. “I knew it was you.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“I knew you pulled me out. Thank you for swimming out to get me.” He blinked and I saw tears begin to form. I didn’t want him to cry. I had a feeling it would upset Carrie and a new cycle would begin for him.
“Of course. Yeah. I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you. Like Caleb said, you’re the one who put on that life jacket.” I gave him a big smile. I tussled his hair. “Take care, Lucas. Get better, okay?”
I began to back out of the room. If I didn’t get out of there quickly, I was going to lose it in front of Carrie and Iris. In front of the kid and the cheery nurse.
I turned and rushed out the door. Caleb waited for me in the hallway. He didn’t ask and I didn’t say a word but let his arms fold around me as the tears covered my cheeks.
He held me tighter. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay now. You got him through it. It’s good. He’s good.”
I nodded, but it didn’t stop the crying or the way my chest felt like it was about to cave in. My eyelashes were hot from the tears and my cheeks flushed. It took a few minutes for it to stop. For me to take a few giant gulps of air. For me to push away enough for him to know I had control again.
“Come on, let’s get some breakfast. I’m buying. No arguments.” Caleb’s arm slid around me effortlessly as he guided me out of the hospital.
C aleb opened the passenger side door for me of the truck, and I slid in. It started like it was a big tractor, roaring to life. We retraced our steps from yesterday. Yesterday felt like two weeks ago. It was odd how time moved differently inside a hospital. There was no reason to go back. No reason to wander the halls or make coffee runs.
After we dropped the truck off at his friend’s house we walked to the marina. Our fingers touched and grazed with each step. There was heat between us. More than the warmth of sleeping next to each other. The Coast Guard cutter waited for us in the slip. The fishing boats had left for the day. The only people on the docks were tourists and the kid who sold ice and tackle at the dock store.
“What about breakfast somewhere on the island?” Caleb suggested as his fingers sank into my waist and he lowered me on the deck of the boat.
I stared into his eyes, desperate for him to hold on to me a little longer. The boat rocked from our movement.
“Hold on.” He parked me on a seat and grabbed the radio.
I watched every flex of muscle. Every movement his shoulders made. His lips. Hoping. Clawing at the hope he would come back into my space. That he would say those words he did in the hospital everything is going to be okay now . I tried to think of a time when someone had spoken so confidently to me. When I could believe it. Trust it. Lean into the comfort that someone else knew something I didn’t.
I listened to him rattle off a list of codes and a combination of letters and numbers as Caleb told the Coast Guard base he was signing off for a few more hours. There didn’t seem to be any pushback.
“Do you have a favorite place I can take you?” he asked, while he started the engine.
I hadn’t eaten at any of the island’s restaurants. The options on the island consisted of The Flying Devil which also sold live bait, Locals, where ripped vinyl booths lined one wall and fishing rods lined the other, or we could order biscuits at the Reel Shop. There was no place to talk. No place to linger. Nowhere I could be alone with Caleb.
I twisted my lips together. “We could make breakfast.”
“What makes you think I can cook?”
“Doesn’t matter if I can.”
“Okay.” We cruised out of the marina and into the open water between the mainland and Marshoak Island.
“So back to your place?” he asked. “The Blue Heron.”
I nodded, biting my lip and keeping my eyes locked on the houses on the horizon. The wind blew my hair around. The wisps battered my cheeks, but I didn’t care. The haze of dawn had cleared and been replaced with bright beams of sun, reflecting off the waves. They shimmered and darted on the surface as quickly as the schools of fish beneath.
Caleb slowed the engine, and we glided against the pier. I was quick to hop up and grab the rope. He didn’t have to tell me to wrap it against the piling. He cut the engine and joined me.
Our fingers twined. He turned to me. My heart raced and I wanted to take a thousand breaths or none at all when he was this close. A jet ski sped past, reminding us we weren’t alone. We were visible to boaters on the creek and the sound where people could see the sphere around us. I wondered from what distance it was noticeable, this swirling bubble of need and want rushing through our bodies.
We jogged together, hands grasping, reaching. We crossed from the pier to the gravel lot then up the stairs and into the screened porch.
Caleb’s hands were in my hair. Our lips collided. And I knew I was going to drown in him. I wanted to drown. I wanted to capsize and have him take me under, bring me up again, breathe life into my mouth, and then push me below the surface all over again.
“Breakfast. Do you want breakfast?” I gulped between kisses.
He shook his head. “Later. New plan.”
We needed to get off the porch. Why was everything at the Blue Heron in sight of someone else? I pushed the wobbly door open, trying to hide the embarrassment of the cottage from him. We were both too distracted to talk about décor or the shabby couch.
His arms lifted in the air as I threaded the T-shirt over his head. It landed near the couch. His mouth was hot. His tongue played inside my mouth, twining and dancing against mine. He shoved the beach shop board shorts down my hips. I stepped out of them as I our eyes locked. I wanted to memorize his beautiful skin. The connection of muscle along his torso. How gorgeous his arms were.
“You’re beautiful, Margot.” He leaned down, taking my mouth again. I believed him. I believed he thought I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. I clung to his neck and his hand slid from my waist along my backside. I winced when he coasted over the bruise.
“You okay?” He paused all movement.
“Just a marina accident. I’m fine. Don’t stop,” I purred.
His hand continued to explore, slipping my underwear down my thighs so he had access between my legs. I shuddered at the first scalding touch. I wanted to moan and scream when his thumb expertly pressed into my clit. Caleb strummed my clit with certainty. When he touched me, I knew he wanted to unlock my secrets. To remember how I sounded with his name on my tongue. To know how it felt again when I came in his hand. He was good at figuring it out. I panted, wanting the first release. I wanted to come. The strokes alternated with his fingers and thumb, creating a rhythm I’d never known. He dipped to kiss me. My mouth opened for him, just as my legs widened. The way he massaged my clit created electric tension. I held on tighter, moaning while he built the pleasure one touch at a time, slowing and quickening then slowing again. I thought I might beg. My knees could barely hold me upright any longer. Then he pushed his fingers inside me, and I cried out, shattering with an instant burst of fire, roaring in my veins.
Caleb’s forehead pressed into mine. “Fuck, Margot. Still so fucking sexy.” He nipped at my neck, grazing my throat with his teeth while I rode out the waves cresting from the orgasm.
I couldn’t wait any longer. I led him to the staircase. I didn’t want to take a step without him. His arms circled my body and I whimpered into another kiss. This kind of need consumed me. It consumed us.
He lifted me, dragging me to his body. He took one giant step and then another until we reached the top of the landing. Caleb staggered into my bedroom. He spotted the boxes shredded and mauled.
“I’m afraid to ask. What happened in here?” His eyes traveled from the shreds of cardboard on the floor to the ripped window screen.
I wanted to run around and tidy everything up. Hide my outburst. Conceal the shame and embarrassment a little longer.
“It’s umm…it’s?—”
Rain began to pelt the panes against the window. “I guess that low-pressure system moved in after all.”
Grateful the weather distracted him, I nuzzled against his neck. I inhaled his scent. The hints of yesterday’s aftershave. Salt. Sweat. All of him. Caleb was intoxicating.
“But really…what is all this shit? It looks like a bomb went off in here.”
I sighed. “It’s what’s left over from my book tour,” I admitted. I wondered if telling someone would make me feel better. It didn’t.
“Book tour?”
I wanted to stay in this bubble with him. I had no interest in inviting reality into the bed or the room.
“Can we talk about it later?” I asked, sliding my hand over his chest. His skin was beautiful. Tan.
“Just tell me you’re okay,” he urged.
“I am. I promise I’ll explain later,” I whispered. I didn’t want that damn book to ruin anything else in my life. Not this moment.
“Okay.” I didn’t think he cared right now either.
I had never seen desire like this in a man before. It excited and frightened me as if we could be engulfed in a blaze the instant I let him inside me. I wasn’t scared of Caleb. I was scared of how I felt when I was with him. How being this close to him made me feel alive. That somehow, he had fanned a flame inside me I thought had been extinguished.
He lowered me to the bed and climbed on, crawling toward me.
“Margot! Margot! Where are you? You left the door wide open!”
I jumped at the sound of Dean’s voice traveling through the house and up the stairs.
“What the hell?” Caleb’s eyes darted to mine. “Who is that?” Caleb sat forward, wrapping a protective arm around me on the bed.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” I scrambled for clothes, but my shorts and underwear were somewhere near the couch downstairs. “That’s the attorney. It’s Dean.” He was already in the cottage. We couldn’t pretend we weren’t here and hope he’d go away.
“Dean Waters is here?”
I blinked. “Yes.” The memories of their ongoing hatred for each other resurfaced.
Caleb growled. “Figures.”
“Where’s your shirt?” I asked, feeling the panic rise in my throat. I heard footsteps. I had to stop him.
I was naked from the waist down. Oh my God.
“Wait right there, Dean. Just go downstairs,” I called, hoping it was loud enough for him to stay put.
The footsteps stopped. “Oh, you are here?”
“Yes, Give me a few minutes.” I felt my lungs begin to work again. “I’ll be downstairs in a second.”
“Okay. Are you okay?” he asked.
Caleb glared. “He is nosey.”
“You have no idea.”
“I’m fine, Dean. I’ll be down.” I took a giant gulp of air. “Let me go downstairs and clear this up for a minute,” I explained to Caleb.
“I’d get dressed but my shirt is in the kitchen, I think.” He smirked.
I smiled at him. Before I could turn, he grabbed me and pulled me back into the bed. His lips found mine. I knew this was what it meant to be caught in the undercurrent.