All of These Things (9 page)

Chapter Eleven

When my grip on the ridge of the sidewalk loosens, the muscles in my neck concurrently slacken. The menacing rush from small, barreling waves still threatens to work its way up to me. The tide slaps the mounds of rocks below, drawing back just in time, dumping sediments wherever it must.

I was under the clichéd impression that time stood still on holiday, but it zooms by quicker. We have four nights left in Maine, and the thought depresses me. Funny how I scorned this trip only days ago, but I long for just a little more.

“You’ll have to stop that, Caroline.”

I startle—Alec has taken the wind out of me.

“It’s not fair to take attention away from a sunset,” he says, now at my side.

“Alec.” His name is lost in a heavy breath. “You scared me.”

“Sorry, love. It’s not my fault you’re beautiful. Join me for a walk?” He extends an arm.

I hesitate, clipping my lip under a tooth just so I have something else to do, other than notice how attractive he looks. I need help because he’s in a white t-shirt, like the very first time I saw him. His jeans are somewhat close-fitting on top and looser at the bottom, sitting over scuffed-up, brown leather boots. He’s a stunning mélange of nattily unkempt combinations, and I do want to go with him, yet I know better.

“Come on, now. Walk with me, Caroline. I know you’re probably thinking of your betrothed in a romantic setting like this. You can tell me all about the bloke,” he goads.

“Betrothed?” I sneer. “Are you from the sixteenth century or something?”

“Isn’t that what Ryan is? Your intended?”

“We’re not engaged, Alec.”

“How about that. You’re talking to me, already. Come... walk with me.”

I try to avoid eye contact, and my inane to-and-fro gaze is expecting to find divine intervention. I need it to tell me what I should do. I want to gather the opinions of every passerby and ask if they would accept in my shoes. His request caught me off guard, but my indecision cues to the evidence that a walk is, indeed, a bad idea.

“Bloody hell. It’s a walk, darling! Shall I lift you up and gather you in my arms again?”

“No!” I screech, and Alec looks victorious with raised brows and twinkling eyes. He riles me further with a pretentious smile, and glows with playful mischief.

I jump to his side, huffing and sulking as I stomp ahead of him. He doesn’t try to contain a laugh and breaks out into a run to catch up to me.

“Oh, sweet Caroline. Come, love. Don’t be this way. I have a gift for you.”

“Pff...” I snort.

“You don’t even know why you’re mad at me. Come here. Stop this insanity for one instant.” He tugs at my arm so I’m forced to face him. What’s even more grating is realizing he’s controlling his laughter by biting on the inside of his cheek.

“Stop laughing at me.”

“I’m not. I’m not, love,” he says, failing to prove otherwise.

I express my annoyance with a ridiculous stance and cross my arms under my breasts. “What? What gift? Why’d you buy me something?”

“I saw it, thought of you, and bought it as an offering. It’s simply a token—so here. You should have it.” Cautiously, he offers me a white plastic bag.

I purse my lips to suppress an emerging smile, but can’t fully accomplish it.

“I’m sorry. I’m in a mood, I suppose. Which, by the way, I was not before your friend made it clear that he’s motivating Sofie to move out here.”

“Ah. Yes, so you heard.”

“You knew?”

“Jason mentioned as much. But, it’s well-defined that Sofie demonstrated the initial intrigue.”

I feel I’ve drained of colour, which is quite a deed for someone pallid like me. On a good day, I have the peachy undertone I inherited from my mother, but under the influence of direct sunlight, I can develop an instant redness and a light scattering of golden freckles.

He is right about Sofie, of course. Yet, as a rule, his general effect on me makes me cross and nervous. It’s a fresh and raw subject that I deter the continuation of by peeking into, what I assume from the quality of the bag, is a purchase from a souvenir shop. A red t-shirt with white print secures my interest:

“I don’t follow baseball,” Alec begins, “but I do know New Englanders sing this particular song for their Boston Red Sox. I thought it was adorable...
like you
, so I bought it. Will you accept it, or should I expect a row about this, too?”

The question is droll and lighthearted, but nonetheless it launches an exotic heat streaming through my body. I stare into his eyes, trying not to break off the gaze this time, but his is just too extreme to compete with. When I intersect the trance, I smile humbly, hoping to conceal my internal scuffle. I don’t want to be this engrossed by his presence, but I am, and it sets me in a panic. I want to blame it on the accent, or the sea air, but it’s
him
—all of him.

“This is really thoughtful,” I manage. “Thank you.”

What exactly do I do now? Look up into his eyes again, kiss his cheek? His proximity throws me. I feel dizzy, too hot and then too cold. My stomach churns, and I know I can’t blame the concussion for any of it. Alec’s entire existence confounds me. I’m flattened by emotions, bulldozed to a splat of chaos and anxiety. Thankfully, he’s about to speak and cut into the silence.

“How’s your head?” he asks, steering us to safer ground.

“Fine. I’m just a little sensitive to light. How was your day?” I ask, much more relaxed than mere seconds ago, and we commence a leisure stroll.

“Aggravating,” he retorts quickly. “It failed to distract me.”

He glances over to me, simplifying the rationale behind his statement, and my heart risks jumping out of my body. I nearly stop mid-stride, contemplating leaving him stranded, but hasten my pace instead.

“You are like a maddening child. What’s wrong now?” he implores. “You know, I’ve never witnessed beauty in wrath and fury. I must thank you, Caroline, or I would have never of known it.”

I scoff.

The footpath meets a large playground and a public parking area. Beach Street is up ahead, but I avoid it, primarily because its main resident is a large arcade establishment. Via the car lot, we head for Ocean Avenue.

“I was not under the impression that a walk meant a cat and mouse chase with you. Come here. Stop this, Caroline. What in bloody hell has you so vexed?” He clasps my wrist, and I glare.

We stand a moment this way, and too soon, I suck my cheeks in, an attempt to restrain a grin. I fail miserably as a smile gets away from me, and I begin to laugh foolishly. My chuckling provokes Alec too generate his own hearty burst.

“You, Caroline... you entertain me. Truly, you do.”

“I
entertain
you?”

“Yes. You’re completely unexpected and utterly frustrating,” he explains and comes a little closer.

“Oh, really?” I dare.

“Really. I get a lot of pleasure from you. I like you.”

My courage vanishes. I absolutely don’t know what to do with that.

“Let’s walk,” he says, noting my fretting look, and we turn onto Main Street.

There’s a beat from a blues band lingering in the background as their music escapes an open, double-gallery pub. It looks like the place to be for people like us when the rest of the town is mainly a bustle of young, excitable families and precious senior couples.

Nubble Light is the main theme in every shop we go by, but salt water taffy and fudge lure me into a mind-boggling array of flavours. We pass a New Age, Amerindian store hosting a demure crowd, and I’m certain Sofie has been in there before. Alec notices my interest shift inside.

“Do you want to go in, love?”

“No, that’s alright. To be honest, I was just thinking about Sofie.”

“I see. Was there a spat after the big disclosure?”

“Nothing we can’t handle, but,” I stop and look over to Alec as though preparing him for the worst, “I was really bitchy with Jason.”

Alec’s brows shoot up, and I’m stabbed with guilt.

“I was insensitive, and my temper got the best of me, so I really have to apologize before the night is over. Maybe,” I say, “you can call him for me. I don’t have his number, but I’d appreciate you helping me with this.”

Alec smiles, letting me intuit the meaning of it, and gradually I beam back a thank you. He softly runs a fingertip across my forehead, slipping it through my hair and places locks behind my ear.

“I’ve wanted to do that from the time by the fire,” he says.

I swallow.

His statement doesn’t carry a taste of lewd flirtation. It’s rather earnest and sincere, but he holds my gaze without trouble, until I flush and have to look away.

“So tell me about Ryan?” he proposes, obviously knowing my reason for retracting.

“You mean my
betrothed
,” I leer. “You like to poke your nose into everyone’s business, don’t you?”

“Far from,” he responds.

“Then why do you dig into mine?”

“Because I’m curious about
you
,” Alec declares calmly and honestly, tempting me with what’s becoming an irresistible, pretentious air. “And driving you mad has become quite the hobby.”

I need to muster all the strength I can manage not to come undone. “You’re bordering on juvenile behaviour,” I retort. “Aren’t Englishmen supposed to be refined and sophisticated? Of course, I have to meet the one who’ll drive me to murder instead.”

Promptly he presses his chest against the side of my arm, cupping his hand behind my neck. My nose is under his chin, and my eyes graze at his thin, light stubble.

“Love me or hate me, both are in my favour. If you love me, I’ll always be in your heart. If you hate me, I’ll always be in your mind.”

His voice slithers in my ear, circulating around my head like a snake.

“Shakespeare?” I ask, trying to pull off a relatively unaffected stance when I’ve nearly lost all my bearings.

“The one and only.”

“So England’s full of annoying men. Thanks for the tip. I’ll have to stay clear.”

“So, go on. Tell me about this bloke,” he pesters.

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Love, where I come from
bloke
is not an insult. It means lad, chap—or
dude
in America.”

“I’m talking about your tone, Alec.”

“And you defend his honour. I can’t say that’s not extremely charming.”

“You know, more than half the time I’m with you, I can’t decide if you’re making fun of me or not. Why do you like bothering me?”

“When did honesty become a crime? All I’m saying is that your regard for him is precious.”

“See! Again, right there,” I say, stabbing my finger in his shoulder. He catches it.

“What about you? Do you have a
betrothed
back home?” I ask, somewhat snarky. I consciously try to let my guard down. I don’t really want to be oppositional all night. The evening is too beautiful to waste on more bitchiness and the truth of the matter is, Alec’s company is enjoyable.

He looks at me crooked, no doubt planning to challenge me.

“I’m not as fortunate as Ryan. I’m unspoken for, and the only women intent on waiting for me are my sisters, Olivia and Naomi, and my mother and grandmother Rose.”

“Interesting. Maybe they see something in you that the rest of us can’t,” I say with false belittlement, but his amusement makes me smile. He looks over at me much like I’ve offered a compliment instead.

“You’re making game of me,” he says waggling a finger. “You know, I’m enjoying the obvious satisfaction you gain when using mockery against me. You’re just diverting your obvious coquettish capabilities.”

“Are you calling me a tease? I don’t tease, Alec. I’m not a floozy.”

“Oh I know, love. But for some reason, I’m an easy target for you to test your heckling competencies, but alas, it only rouses me more.” He winks and yanks me past the entry of an amusement park, stopping at a token booth.

“Oh my God! How obnoxious can you be? Seriously! Your head is so puffed-up I can tie it to a ribbon and sell you right here. Too bad you’re going to pop any minute, though, with all that air in it.”

I know he heard me, even if he is concentrating on procuring phony money from a gawking teenager. I can’t help but wonder when they started exiting the booths to give visitors their coins directly. The park is a near time-warp, and it looks strikingly similar to when my father brought me here himself.

“I’m Christy,” says the wriggling girl in short-shorts and a fluorescent pink crop top.

“Hello, darling. Thanks so much,” he says with a wink. Taking my hand in his again, we stride off.

“Sorry, love. You were saying something? You want to tie me up, or something like that, and have your way with me until I pop?”

I smack his shoulder, but all too soon I laugh. He stops, and I almost walk into his chest.

“What?”

“Your laugh. It’s angelic, Caroline. It makes you utterly delectable.”

I don’t know what to say or how to look, except I do know I should leave. How am I to even respond to such incredible flattery? I’m so taken aback, and his charm is nothing less than mouth-watering.

“I’m very serious, Caroline. I love the sound of your laugh. Maybe if you stop yelling at me I could enjoy it more,” he says with a glint in his eyes.