41. Elliott
FORTY-ONE
Elliott
Grandma stands with Carmen at her side, both women smiling as we finish our breakfast. The lines age has given their faces don’t take away from their beauty. Their goodness radiates outward. They could not be more different. Grandma with her perfectly coiffed hair, light makeup, expensive clothes, and pale complexion. And Carmen, with her tanned skin, hair that’s still dark despite being in her sixties, and always wearing an apron over whatever outfit she decided on—it’s always jeans and some kind of kitschy T-shirt. Today’s choice is, ‘Bake cookies and dismantle systems of oppression.’ Grandma, who can’t even boil water as she likes to say, and Carmen, who can cook and bake with skills that rival professional chefs. Carmen has worked for Grandma for most of her life, choosing to move here when Grandma did. The two women have known each other for over forty years. They’re more than boss and employee. They’re friends, who often bicker over who the kitchen belongs to, but right now, they’re a united front. Not taking no for an answer. And I couldn’t be happier about it.
“We made plans with Jamie. Right, Jamie?” Grandma nods in agreement with herself.
Jamie gives Grace the thumbs-up with his free hand and shoves another bite of chocolate chip pancake with peanut butter sauce into his mouth—a treat Carmen made specially for him when she learned it was his favorite.
“We have everything planned,” Carmen adds. The barely there Spanish accent makes itself present. “We’ll make cookies and strawberry jam, and maybe even try our hand at ice cream if the mood strikes. You two go, have fun.”
Jillian hesitates, but Grace isn’t taking no for an answer. “Don’t worry. I can handle a six-year-old for a few hours.”
“And so can I.” Carmen points to herself.
Jillian smiles, the corner of her mouth lifting in a way that makes my chest tighten. She nods, relenting. “Thank you. I’m sure Jamie will love it.”
Grace pulls the chair next to Jillian and sits down, takes her hand. “Yes, he will. You need some time for yourself.” Her voice is low like she’s whispering a secret. “Don’t forget you’re a woman, too—not just a mother—and everyone needs a break from time to time. Everyone, Jillian.”
Jillian pulls Grace into a hug, blinking rapidly. “Thank you, Grace.”
“Now go upstairs and put on a bathing suit.” She turns to me. “You too. You must take her to The Spot.”
Jillian frowns. “The Spot?”
I glance at Grandma, mentally thanking her. Devious, old, little lady. Turning back to Jillian, I smile. “You’ll see.”
Grace shoos us away, taking Jamie by the hand and leading him toward the kitchen with Carmen, who got him his own apron. Jillian lingers for a moment, watching them, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shorts.
I hold a hand out for her. “Ready?”
She places her hand in mine, no hesitation this time. “Yes.”
We start following the same trail I took her and Jamie before, but I make a turn into the woods, guiding her between the trees and bushes. There’s no trail here, and for someone not familiar with the area, they’d be lost among the dense trees in minutes. But I grew up in these woods, exploring them with my sisters and cousins. Well, Josh not so much. He never liked getting his hands dirty, so it was me and the four girls.
I follow the nonexistent trail with Jillian at my side.
“Where are you taking me? There’s no path.” A note of worry coats her words.
I smile, trying to put her at ease. “There’s a path if you know what to look for. Landmarks. Like that fallen tree.” I point at the tree trunk lying thirty or forty yards to our left. “And that bolder.” I point to the right. “We want to keep walking with these two markers in mind.”
“What happens when we get past them?”
“There will be other markers. Let’s see if you can find them.”
She grins, more at ease now. “Okay, challenge accepted.”
Her gaze focuses ahead as we get closer to the boulder. All around us, the forest plays her song, the rustle of leaves in the trees, the crunch of our steps over dirt, twigs, and pebbles. The birds chirping, insects joining in with the buzzing and the call of an angry squirrel when we pass its nest on a hollow tree trunk. Sunlight filters through the trees in dappled patches, casting everything in golden light. The air smells of pine and damp earth, mingling with the faint sweetness of wildflowers blooming in the underbrush.
I love the way the sunlight catches her hair, turning it into strands of gold. I want to wrap my hand into her hair and pull her to me, kiss her until I can’t breathe anymore. I force myself to keep moving, focusing on the sound of our footsteps crunching over the terrain as we walk in comfortable silence for several more minutes.
“There.” She points to a blackened tree that was hit by lightning years ago.
“Yes. That’s one of them. But there’s more. Pay attention.”
Jillian looks all around, but there’s nothing that stands out. Trees and bushes and green all around us. She stops, tilts her head. “Is that...water?”
I grin. “Yes. That’s another clue. Do you think you can follow the sound?”
She lets go of my hand and takes the lead, her steps careful over the uneven ground. The sound gets louder with each passing minute. After a short hike, we break through the trees, and below us, The Spot comes into view.
She gasps. “Oh my God.”
I try to see it through her eyes, like I’m seeing it for the first time. The wide clearing showcases a small waterfall, no higher than ten feet, that spills into the lake below. The rocks around it covered in deep green moss and ferns. The water foaming at the base of the fall and spreading in concentric waves outward. The water so clear, every rock and pebble on the bottom is visible. The clearing around it forming a small, sandy and rocky beach. Birds singing loudly as if in competition with the falls. The blue sky above, now visible in the absence of trees. It looks like a lost haven, untouched and unspoiled by the human touch.
“You call this—this piece of heaven—The Spot?”
“Yes.”
“Why? This place deserves a much better name.”
I chuckle. “I’m not sure. Since I was little, this was always called The Spot.”
She puts her hands on her hips. “Well, excuse me if I call it something else.”
“Yeah, what will you name it?”
“I don’t know yet. But I’ll come up with something.”
I hold a hand out to her and she takes it. We walk down the path, careful with where we step as we go lower to the small beach.
I slide the backpack to the ground and stretch my back and shoulders.
“Oh, it was heavy? Sorry, I didn’t even think of offering to help you carry it.”
Like I’d let her carry a pack half of her size. “No, not heavy.” I open the pack and remove a thick quilt, then spread it over the pebbles. Pull out two towels and a small cooler.
Jillian watches me. “I didn’t realize you had so much stuff in there. You should have said something. I can help.”
I smile. “Next time.” Not a chance in hell.
She still takes in every detail, her eyes widening as if to take in more. “This is beautiful.”
“I thought you’d like it.”
She steps closer to the water’s edge. “Like it? No. I love it.” Her voice is low, almost reverent. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
I watch her, the way her shoulders relax, the way her lips curve into a soft smile. There’s something about her in this moment—something pure and unburdened that calls to me. Perhaps a slice of the before Jillian. The woman she was before life hurt her in the worst of ways.
I crouch to unlace my hiking shoes and peel off my socks. Set them aside. “Come on.”
She turns to me as I remove my shirt, pulling it over my head.
She freezes. Her lips part as her gaze flits all over my chest and abs.
The way she’s looking at me sends a flood of arousal to my groin. I’m gonna need to get into the cold water fast if I don’t want to pull a tent in my swimming shorts. “Let’s go in.”
I don’t wait. I wade into the water until it’s waist level. Allow the cool mountain water to do its thing and send the blood flow back to my brain so I can think straight. “Are you joining me?” I smile, going for casual. Nothing to see here, nothing at all. Pay no attention to the hard-on below the water level. I move my hands in the water, hoping it will make it less clear and blur any remaining proof of my erection.
She shrugs, then takes off her shoes and socks. She hesitates before unzipping her shorts and letting them slide down her legs. Her T-shirt comes off next. She’s wearing a modest one-piece navy blue swimsuit. A flower design around her slim waist. I can’t take my eyes away from her. I can’t stop myself from drinking her in, memorizing every inch of her skin.
She takes small steps toward the water, mindful of the pebbles. Her gasp is sharp but followed by a laugh. “It’s so cold!”
I wade backward, giving her more space. “You get used to it fast.”
She walks in until the water is up to her chest, then dunks and swims underwater until she’s behind me. I turn, watching her through the crystal-clear water as she moves with ease—like a freshwater mermaid. I’m completely captivated by her.
Jillian pops up, water streaming down her hair, face, shoulders. Droplets sparkling in the bright sunlight. She smooths her hair. “The water feels much better now. Not as cold.”
I chuckle. “You surprised me. I didn’t expect you to dive in.”
She lifts a shoulder. “It’s easier to get over the coldness if you go in one shot.”
I follow her lead and dive under, touching the bottom, my hands skimming over the rocks. And that’s when I see it. A pebble shaped like a heart. I grab it and put it in my swim shorts’ pocket.
I come up for air. “How good a swimmer are you?”
“Very good.”
“Great!” I point at the waterfall. “Follow me.”
I swim to the falls and duck under, then pop up on the other side where it’s shallower and stand up. A few seconds later, Jillian surfaces. She gasps as she takes in the hidden space .
And then it’s like it’s only the two of us in the world. Cocooned between the rocks and the curtain of water, we’re invisible to the outside. Not that there’s anyone around to see us. I walk to the natural stone ledge, wide and tall enough for three or four people to stand on without crowding each other.
She follows me. “This is amazing.” The sound of the rushing water muffles her words. “How did you even find this here?”
She’s like a vision as she emerges from the water in the shadows of the small cave.
“I can’t take the credit for finding it. This land has been in Grandma’s family for generations. Grandpa showed it to me when I was a kid.” I hold a hand out to her. “Come, I want to show you something.”
Jillian takes my hand and I bring her closer to the outer edge of the rock wall, where the sunlight filters in, casting a glow over the stone.
“Look.” I point at the dozen or so carvings on the stone.
Jillian traces the letters with awe. “What are they?”
“There’s an old family tradition. When you find your one true love, you bring them here and together carve their initials on the stone.” I point at the letters. “I’ve forgotten who some of them are. But I remember these.” I trace each pair of letters.
E + J
M + M
G + J
E + H
“Elisabeth and Joseph, my great-great-grandparents. Mary and Michael, my great-grandparents. Grace and James, my grandparents. My sister Elsa and her husband, Hudson.”
She flattens her palm on the stone, silent. A lonely tear runs down her cheek, hiding between the water drops still clinging to her skin. “This is beautiful.”
I look at her, lost for words. It’s too soon to say anything. Too soon to trust the embers flickering in my heart will turn to fire or that she feels the same way I do. So I say nothing and hope she understands that if she gives us a chance, our initials might one day join these too.
Jillian blinks rapidly and a shiver takes her entire body.
“Cold? Let’s go back and get dried. Sit in the sun for a bit.”
She nods silently and takes my hand as we wade back into the water and through the fall. Swim the short distance to the shore. I wrap a towel around her shoulders, rubbing her arms up and down for a little extra heat before grabbing one for myself.
She sits first, pulling off the towel to dry her hair, then drops it over her lap. I sit next to her, leaving a few inches between us and second-guessing myself. Was it the wrong move to show her the cave?
I drop my own towel over my lap. “You okay?”
Jillian stares at the water for several seconds before turning to me. “Yes. I’m fine.” She smiles. “Truly. Just taken aback by the beauty of this place and its significance. How important it is to your family.”
I return her smile. “The tradition is for the parent to bring the child. You probably noticed I didn’t mention my parents. That’s because my father never brought my mother here. Or me and my siblings. Grandpa brought us when it became clear my father had no intention of doing so.”
“That must have been hard.”
“At the time, I was nine and it didn’t really hit until many years later. It’s harder now because of my mother—her knowing about it and be excluded.”
Jillian shakes her head. “Your father is an asshole. And I’m not apologizing for saying that.”
I burst out laughing. The curse word coming from her is so unexpected. I don’t think I’ve heard her cursing before. “No apology needed. He is an asshole.”
And now we’re both laughing so hard, there are tears streaming down our faces. The laugh, a much-needed release. When we finally stop laughing and our eyes meet, all mirth evaporates, leaving the keen awareness of our proximity, how far away from prying eyes we are, and how little we’re wearing.
The always present low simmer of our attraction heats up, bubbles up to the surface, simmers between us. My mouth goes dry and I lick my lips. Her gaze drops to my mouth and stays there. “If you keep looking at me like that, I might give in to temptation.”
Her eyes find mine again. “Yeah? What kind of temptation are you talking about?”
“Jillian.” Her name comes out in a hushed breath.
“Tell me.”
I swallow. “I want to kiss you. To taste your mouth again. I want to wrap my hand in your hair and gently pull your head back and expose your neck to me so I can lick that pulsing spot below your ear.” I shift to face her and brace myself on one hand. My knee brushes her thigh .
She releases a shuddered breath. “What else?”
“Keep asking me questions like that and I’ll need to go back into the water to cool off.”
She slides her hand on the blanket until it’s touching mine. “Perhaps there’s an alternative to cooling off. You could kiss me instead.”
I hold back for another moment, reading her, making sure she really means it, and then go in. My lips brush hers, the most gentle of caresses, a barely there touch—I give her every chance to pull back. She doesn’t. She opens up for me, her tongue coming out to taste me. I can’t hold back any longer. I dive into her, taking over, deepening the kiss.
We kiss like the world is ending and this moment is all we have. I make good on my promise and tangle my hand into her damp hair. Tug her head back gently, guiding as she exposes her neck to me. I trace the curve of her neck with my lips, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles. Her skin pebbles under my touch. I’m so hard it’s painful, but I know there’s no release for me here. Not until I’m alone in the shower and then I can take care of myself while I replay every second of this moment.
Her hand goes to the back of my head, and she pulls me to kiss her again. She lies back and pulls me down with her. I lie by her side and keep my hand at her waist and hip, moving up and down her side but not straying.
Jillian squeezes her thighs together and moans. I want to be inside her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. Not yet. It’s too soon for that. When it does happen, I want her to have no doubts, no regrets, and for it to be more than being caught in the moment. I want it to be her decision, her choice .
I break the kiss. Every cell in my body screams in protest. Jillian opens her eyes, blinking at me, her breath, like mine, fast and shallow. Her lips are red and swollen as I imagine mine also are. A slow blush colors her cheeks, and she averts her eyes. She opens her mouth and I know what’s coming.
I interrupt her. “No. Don’t you dare apologize.” My voice is soft. “This is by far one of the best moments of my life. I don’t want to stop. I want to get lost in you and never come back up for air. But what I want to do and what I should do right now are miles apart. As much as I want to peel that swimsuit off you so I can kiss and taste every inch of your skin, I won’t. I don’t think you’re ready yet. But I trust that you’ll let me know when you are.”
Her blush turns into a deep red.
I reach out, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face, my fingers lingering against her cheek. She leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment—the simple gesture sends a rush of longing through me.
I stand up, holding my hands out to her. “Hungry?”
Her stomach grumbles in response, and we laugh, the sexual tension easing.
“Let’s see what Carmen packed for us.”