Beautiful Burn (4 page)

“You come here a lot?”

“Sure. It's peaceful, and the
rowing is good exercise. Come on, there’s a path.” I snagged her
hand in mine to lead her. I heard the singing sand whispering beneath
her feet as she followed me down the shore a few hundred yards.
“Here.” I stopped and gestured. It was the perfect spot to fully
appreciate this moment.

“I love it,” she mused as
she stood, eyes big, while she took it in.

The bright white, clapboard
lighthouse on the shores of Old Mission Point was always a sight to
behold, but if you stood in this exact spot as the sun dipped in the
sky at just the right angle, the old building seemed to be lit with
flames. The orange rays of the setting sun reflected off the crisp
white and seemed to glow, slowly enveloping the structure in a fiery
effect that progressed until the entire show faded as slowly as it'd
come when the sun finally descended below the horizon line.

“How have I not known about
this? I mean, obviously I’ve been to the lighthouse before, but at
sunset…” she trailed off. “I wonder if I can get it on my
camera.”

“Nope, no cameras.” I
stopped the hand digging in her back pocket.

“What?” She looked up at me
with eyes all big and doey and confused.

“Don’t worry about
capturing it, worry about experiencing it.”

“You’re insane.” She
laughed, but still, her hand dropped. “Take me up close.” She
smiled and locked our hands together, taking confident strides up the
narrow, sandy path. The dune grass brushed our thighs as we walked,
hand in hand, and my mind raged with one question: What the fuck was
I doing?

I was enjoying this moment. The
last few years I’d been living in an oppressive cloud, and this,
this was my first breath. My first possibly reckless moment since
college and I was going to live it.

“If you get much closer than
this the fire effect fades.” I stopped her, our feet sliding in the
sand and making a soft rasping noise.

“Close your eyes.” Her eyes
fluttered closed almost instantly. “Now imagine it's 1920, the Isle
of Skye.” I murmured in her ear, lulling her with my low, melodic
tone. “You vacation here every summer, in the same beachside house,
and you look at this lighthouse every day.”

“‘To the Lighthouse’?”
she breathed. I knew she'd catch my reference to Virginia Woolf's
classic novel.

“Imagine the burning desire
to see it up close, to touch it with your own hands.” My gaze
hovered on the creamy skin at her nape. “But the path is too rocky
and the waves are too wild to cross. It's impossible. You're only
ever left looking. Wanting...” I trailed one light finger across
the sensitive flesh that begged for my touch.

“It sounds like hell,” she
sighed, her eyes fluttering closed when goosebumps erupted across her
skin. She was so sensual, so beautiful, so attuned to me like I was
to her, I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to taste the skin on her neck,
sweet with the taste of her sweat-dampened skin. Every primal urge
that’d been buried deep inside me exploded and the tenuous
restraint I'd possessed slipped through my weak fingers.

I dropped her hand from mine
and as if linked by the same marionette line, we turned to face each
other. With shallow breaths and tentative fingertips, I trailed up
the bronzed skin of her arms to land at her exposed collarbone. My
eyes bore into hers, seeking permission, begging for acceptance, as
my thumbs ghosted along her jawline and my fingers wove into her
thick hair.

Her throat muscles pulled taut
as she swallowed, her eyes swimming with emotion I couldn't even
begin to understand. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, I leaned in, my lips
seeking hers. We'd been so far apart these last years that it was a
shock to have her here -- the million miles that had existed in the
space between us now closed to a distance of just centimeters.

My lips brushed with hers and
as if an atom bomb had dropped, every cell in my body exploded and
hummed with pleasure. I pressed closer, confident that she wouldn't
push me away when her palms splayed across the broad angles of my
chest.

The slow, tentative kiss
consumed us. Before long my tongue was thrusting between her lips and
finally -- finally -- I knew what she tasted like – decadent
caramel, subtle vanilla, and a hint of menthol from her cigarette.
Her taste was natural, both sweet and minty, and as addictive as
cocaine to an addict. Because I was already crossing more lines than
I'd vowed ever to cross, I pulled away, savoring the taste of her on
my tongue. My eyes scanned the soft angles of her face, the dark
eyelashes shadowed across high cheekbones, lips so perfectly full and
elegantly-shaped they could have been created by a sculptor’s
masterful hand.

When her eyes fluttered open to
meet my gaze, I spoke. “Imagine wanting something so badly, you're
consumed with yearning, seeing something every single day, knowing
you can never do more than look.”

Even in the muted light of
sunset, I could see the crimson coloring the apples of her cheeks,
the fire in her eyes. She remembered, and she wanted this as badly as
me “Are we still talking about the lighthouse?” she finally
breathed.

“That's your inspiration.”
I couldn't keep the flirty grin from my face.

“That was certainly
something
.” She quipped and turned back to the lighthouse.
Auburn's eyes swept the weather-worn fencing that enclosed the old
structure, where only a small sandy path allowed entrance. “I can't
believe you just kissed me.” Her fingertips were trailing across
her tender lips, as if reliving the feeling of our kiss.

A small smile was turning the
corners of her lips when I reached out, my hand seeking hers again.
“Life is short.” I replied with astounding sincerity. Her head
turned to meet mine, and she finally allowed the stubborn smile she'd
been trying to hide break into a full grin.

“My point in all of this
was...” I interlaced our fingers as I spoke, “story isn’t about
place. It’s not about the climax or the resolution; it’s about
the emotion that connects all of us.”

“Hmm…” She cocked her
head and pursed her lips. “I like that,” she said softly. “Maybe
I'll go with that.” The excitement rose in her voice. She tapped
her lips in a way that she knew was silly before she laughed and
pushed me in the shoulder, throwing me off balance as she darted
around me, hair flying and laugh floating on the wind. She looked the
part of a beautiful, composed young woman, but her unique and
endearing, playful sense of humor reminded me that life wasn't all
bad. There were still beautiful, lighthearted moments to be had, if I
chose to grasp them.

“Is that how you repay the
man that inspired you?!” I scoffed when I’d finally caught her. I
held her lightly in my arms, enough to keep her steady, enough for
her to feel the raging hard on settled in my cargo shorts.

“You give yourself too much
credit.” Her laugh shot straight to my soul and lit my
nerve-endings like firecrackers.

I
smiled when I realized she could shit on me for the rest of my life
and I’d be the happiest man alive.

“Is that so?” I caught my
breath as I looked down at her. She glanced up at me with amusement
surrounded by a veil of wild, dark hair. The way the setting sun
caressed the muted angles of her face impressed me like a work of art
might impress another. High cheekbones accentuated her round,
slightly-too-large eyes and dark eyebrows and the full cupid's bow of
her lips.

“Yup.” She grinned and
crossed her arms, teasing. Suddenly I was more aware of my hands at
her waist, settled on her hips. I pulled away and grasped for my good
sense, which was always escaping me at the most dire of times. I
wanted to kiss her again, but I also wanted to keep my job, letting
this go any further than it already had would spell trouble for both
of us.

I ran a hand through my
dirty-blond hair. “We should head back.”

“Okay.” She retreated,
giving me the space she must have sensed I needed. We headed back the
way we'd come and a few minutes later we were back in the boat and
rowing towards the little stretch of coastline we called home.

“Told you Michigan had a lot
to offer,” I finally interrupted the silence.

“I feel enlightened.” She
grinned, teasing. “I don't remember you being so active a few years
ago.”

“I grew up doing a lot of
this stuff, but when when I got married I had less and less time.
When things started to get bad a few years ago,” I paused, working
at the persistent ache in my shoulder. “I found it was a good
escape. When Mel gets on a subject, she likes to beat it to death.
Out here on the water was about the only place I could find peace.”
I ended.

“I'm sorry.” She placed a
hand on my forearm, her dark eyes connecting with mine. I appreciated
the chance to slow my rowing and enjoy these moments with her. “My
parents used to fight all the time when I was a kid, even after the
divorce they were always in and out of court arguing about custody.
It was awful. I remember watching Peter Pan on repeat as a kid and
wishing a magical world existed where kids never grew up and didn't
have parents screaming and hating each other.” The emotion in her
voice left my heart bleeding for the young girl she'd been.

“I knew your parents were
divorced, but I never knew it was that bad...” I set the oar across
my lap and twined my fingers with hers.

“It's so much better now.
Don't get me wrong, they're still tough as nails, but at least
they're not fighting over me anymore.” Her voice cracked and tears
pooled in her eyes.

“If I would have known...”

“You would have rescued me?”
A bittersweet smile lifted her cheeks.

“I would have done
something.” My eyes held her, oozing sympathy and concern.

“I had books,” she smiled
fondly. “Books saved me. Getting lost in stories allowed me to
drown out the screaming most of the time,” she ended, softly,
pulling away and casting her gaze out to the shoreline, lit with
glowing house lights in the dark night.

“Still, I wish you would have
told me,” I murmured as I started rowing again, conscious of moving
at a slower pace to give my body the rest it screamed for.

“I wish I would have had a
kayak to escape out on the water.” She stretched her arms behind
her.

I nodded somberly, wishing I
would have known back then she was struggling at home, but what I
would have done, I wasn't even sure. “We should go kayaking.” I
offered, thankful that I was here for her now.

“I’d go anywhere with you.”
Her words stopped me in my tracks. The paddles in my hands suddenly
fell limp. I wasn't sure she’d meant for me to hear her last
admission. But I had. I had heard her loud and clear.

“Auburn, that kiss, I'm
afraid it was a mistake. A relationship between us could cause a
scandal, it could ruin my life and yours. I love more than anything
else spending time with you, talking to you, but we can't cross that
line again.”

Her eyes held mine as she
spoke, “I've waited too long, Reed. I've thought about you
countless times since the last time I saw you three years ago. I
didn't know if I'd ever see you again, and you were married! But
coming back this summer, having you suddenly thrown back in my life,
and
you're separated from your wife, if there's something
here...” she shifted in her seat and then caught my eyes, her's
searing with passionate hesitation. “It feels like our timing is
finally right.” She ended on a soft murmur.

“Jesus, I feel the same way.”
I clutched at the oars gripped in my hands until my knuckles ached.
“But with all the media attention about teachers getting caught
with students, it's a monumental risk. I have a teacher friend who
scrubbed all her online profiles of anything remotely sexy, even
photos she'd had from a bachelorette party in Vegas, she was so
worried about losing her job. The barest hint of anything
unprofessional, even with zero evidence, could ruin my life to hell
and back.”

“God, I know.” She ran a
hand through her long dark strands and averted her eyes to the silver
clouds drifting across the sky. “I've just never felt this kind of
connection with anyone else.” She said, sadly.

“Fuck. Me too.” I sighed,
feeling more trapped than ever. “I wish we could, but there are so
many things going on right now.” I ran a hand through my hair,
wanting to explain it all to her, but I could hardly fathom it myself
much less speak the words to another person. Auburn's face fell
before she closed her eyes and stretched
her arms above her head. She bent behind her and I watched the soft
breeze rush over her body and catch in the threads of her hair. She
was breathtaking, and her adventurous nature was something I’d
often craved out of Mel.
Mel
was too controlled, too regimented. Nature made her uncomfortable.
Frizzed her hair and made her sweat, she'd always said. So I’d
taken to exploring Michigan on my own, but Mel had started to resent
my being gone on the weekends, so I'd let that go too.

I jumped into the water a few
minutes later to pull the boat on shore when I turned and found
Auburn had followed me out, shoes in hand. She dropped them with a
damp thunk on the sand and turned to plop down. I arched an eyebrow
in surprise. I'd gotten the sense that this night was over. I pulled
the boat out of the water and sat down next to her. “Everything
okay?”