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Authors: Isla Dean

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Sea Stories

Villa Blue (10 page)

BOOK: Villa Blue
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“Sounds like maybe you should take a break and live a little life. Maybe that’ll inspire you.”

“Oh, I’ve lived plenty of life over the past year.”

“I’m going out on a limb here, so don’t shoot me while I’m out there, but going through a divorce and living a little aren’t the same things.”

She glared at him and ignored the drops of vanilla that began melting down her hand. “I might not shoot you, but I could let you fall off the limb. Same end result.”

“We could live it up together and go for those orgasms you mentioned.”

“Ivy! Ivy Van Noten! Ivy stop!”

Ivy gave Aiden a glowering glance then shifted her attention toward the shouts.

“Know him?”

“Works at the local gallery,” she told him as a tailored, trim guy in a powder pink button-up shirt ran toward them.

When he finally reached her, his tan, manicured hand rested on her shoulder as he panted dramatically.

“You okay, Klem?”

He stood up straight and fanned his face. “I don’t do running. It’s so uncouth,” he said then bounced back to his natural enthusiastic self. “Phew! Sorry to interrupt. Oh, honey, your ice cream is running down your arm.”

She licked at it with her tongue. “I’m uncouth and I don’t care.”

“That’s like hearing a princess say she’s unkempt. It just doesn’t translate. I mean, if I could eat that and keep your figure... Oh, I miss ice cream. Anyway, I’ve been trying to reach you and you haven’t called me back.”

“My phone is at the bottom of the ocean.”

“Oh no! How’d that happen? I’ve never seen you swim. Do you swim? Do princesses swim?”

“It seems I’ve taken up cliff diving.”

At Klem’s sharp inhale, Ivy let out a laugh and felt glad she’d left her studio for the walk into town—a rare realization.

“You’re so brave. I’d never be caught dead diving anywhere near where sharks might be. Not my thing. But you might be my thing…” Klem slid his attention toward Aiden. “Who are you?”

“Aiden James. Straight as they come. Sorry.”

“All the good ones are,” Klem made a face. “We need more eye candy on this island. Got any gay-boy friends? Ones as melt-in-your-mouth sexy as you?”

“If I think of any, I’ll send them your way.”

“You’re an angel, in a devilish kinda way. So what are you two doing tonight? A little
romance
?” He sang out the last word.

“You said you’ve been trying to reach me?” Ivy asked, intercepting the direction of the conversation.

“Oh my God! I almost forgot.” Klem’s hand lay on her shoulder once more. “We sold the last two paintings we had of yours. Sold three last week, then two more today to some businessman from New York. I didn’t make the sale—shame—but tomorrow we ship them off.”

Ivy eyed Aiden who met her gaze with a look of smug amusement.

“Can you believe it, honey? Congratulations! Your check is literally in the mail. Now we need more. Got blank white walls just waiting there, sadly, forlornly. Is that a word? Anyway, you have some to bring in tomorrow morning? Don’t want to miss out on the weekend traffic.”

She let out a breath, grateful to have money coming her way, but wondering what the hell she was going to do without backup pieces for her show. What if she couldn’t finish the rest in time? What if, what if… “Sure, I can be there a half hour before opening. That good?”

“Yay, perfect. Now, you two go celebrate the sales with champagne or something fun while I go sit in a gallery by myself. At least I can live vicariously through you two beautiful people.” Klem began walking away then lifted a hand high above his head, waving. “Bye hunnies!”

Klem laughed and the sound of his buoyant chuckles echoed back to where Aiden and Ivy stood.

“He’s quite a character. And he has good ideas. Champagne to celebrate. And before you say you can’t,” Aiden said, anticipating, “let’s say one glass, then I promise to get you back to your paints and brushes. You sold out of your paintings at the gallery. That’s a good thing, right? And good things should be celebrated.”

She peered at him. “So where’re you going to hang the pieces?”

“In my apartment.”

She nodded, not knowing what to make of it. The man had bought her paintings, she thought, letting the idea churn in her mind as they began walking back toward their shoes. Not one member of her family had ever wanted a single painting of hers. Not one. “Why did you buy them? My paintings?”

“Easy, they moved me.”

“Which two were they?”

He knew a test when he was given one. “One had a lot of red in it, uh,
Red Night Rising,
I think it was called. And the other was the one of the harbor under the stars—like tonight actually. But in the painting it was as if the sea and sky were reflecting the other. It was interesting—light and dark at the same time. Not sure I really understood it beyond the surface but there’s something there, so maybe if I look at it long enough I’ll get it.”

Her heart skipped, stuttering, pleased that he glimpsed the philosophical impulse behind the painting. Most people would’ve just seen a harbor at night.

“It reminded me of you. Don’t remember the name of it though.”

As they reached the steps to the pedestrian path, she slid her feet into her shoes while he did the same. “
One Wish, Two Worlds
.”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Why does it remind you of me?”

“Well for one, you’re very direct and at the same time very hidden. And yes, I know, rich coming from me.”

“A bit,” she said as pedestrians passed by—a couple holding hands, a young boy with a rambunctious black lab and two tired parents in tow.

“I guess every time I think you’re one thing, you show me the opposite of that. It’s maddening and fascinating. So I bought your paintings to remind me of you.”

Eyes soft and body too exhausted to grip tension, she stopped, faced him. “I’m glad you bought them. Thank you.”

“I’m the one who should thank you for creating them.”

“How about that champagne? There’s a wine bar just up ahead. I think I’ll let you buy me that glass. No, wait,” she said, changing her mind. “I wasn’t very productive today, I should head back.”

The night sky above them was ink black with a scattering of silver stars and a halo of soft white light that hovered around the rising moon. There was a hum in the air, and, attune to adventure, Aiden felt it. “I have an idea.”

“Uh oh.”

“I’m going to need you to trust me.”

“I barely know you,” she reminded him. “Why would I trust you?”

His mind maneuvered through angles, ways to approach her. “You’ve had artist’s block for awhile, right?”

She sent him a withering look and he bit back a grin. God, she was adorable.

“Mmm hmm,” she finally affirmed, skeptical.

“And you said that jumping off the cliff helped, right?”

“I’m absolutely not jumping off a cliff with you. Well, another cliff.”

“Good, because that’s not the plan. Not exactly. But I do need you to trust me. You can’t know what we’re going to do, but you can know that what we’re ultimately doing is helping you to be more productive once you get back in front of your easel. Trust me, as your official muse, to help beat back the artist-blocking bastard.”

When she only stared at him, he added, “It worked last time.”

“You’re a sneaky man, Aiden James. And you play dirty.”

“When it’s warranted.”

When her resigned breath whispered out between the gentle whooshes of rolling waves, his ears perked. She hadn’t said no.

“Come with me.”

 

Chapter Six

 

“It’s all set. You can’t say no.” Aiden rounded the side of the beach club office on the promenade.

“I’m very capable of saying no. It’s one of the skills I’ve picked up in the past year. I’ve gotten quite good at it actually.”

“Then don’t say no. It’ll be fun, I promise,” he said to Ivy, casually linking her hand with his. “We have our tickets, they’ll be here in a few minutes to take us up.”

“Up where? And who are ‘they?’”

He heard the hesitation in her voice so he stopped talking, and instead maneuvered so she tucked into him. Skimming along her lips, he nibbled, then deliberately teased her lips open and took with the wild sense of rebellion that ran through him. When that steady drive of desire took over, his hands spread and he felt his way along her curves, up her sides, and pulled her body closer.

Feeling her surrender, that silky feel of her steadily sliding over him like waves on the sand, his plan to distract her backfired—he’d distracted himself in the process. Ready to forget the tickets he’d purchased, he wanted her in slow sips and fast gulps, in shallow, teasing touches and deep, urgent crashes.

He didn’t care how or where, he just wanted her.

And when a cart approached, stopping beside them, he wanted it gone. He wanted to be with Ivy, just Ivy, and to slip off her clothes, feeling her lean, lurid body move with his.

“Come on. This was your idea.”

He heard her murmur and would have cursed the humor in her voice if it hadn’t sounded so alluring.

When they took a seat on the backbench of the extended golf cart, he ordered himself to cool down or he’d never be able to stand once they got to the top of the hill. Though he needed to shift his thoughts to anything but her, he clasped his hand with hers, warmth touching warmth, which didn’t help matters.

The cart full of people began its trek along a street that twisted up the hill like a grapevine, with porch lights and cheerful sounds of occasional house parties hosting the way.

Blood slowly returning to his head, he realized that Ivy hadn’t demanded to know where they were going, hadn’t asked the other couples in the cart what was going on. Somehow she was comfortable in the unknown. That was usually his role, he thought, his mind swimming. Who was this woman?

“Aww, how cute are they?”

He followed Ivy’s line of sight toward a wooden bench where two older people sat cozily, taking in the view. “That’s the man you mistook for me.”

Her laugh was fast. “It is. I wonder if he would’ve gone cliff diving with me.”

“It’s possible. Any man his age who wears a fedora, carries a cane, and makes out with his woman on a bench overlooking the bay at night has done some living.”

Well his thoughts had cooled but something else stirred in him now. Before he could think too much about it, the cart slowed to a stop.

“All right, welcome to a night you’ll never forget,” the peppy guide announced. “Follow me, I’m the man with the flashlight, and it’ll be just a short walk to the platform where we’ll get you geared up. Get excited everyone. Let’s go.”

“Geared up?” Ivy glared at Aiden.

He simply grinned and held her close as they walked through the dark, hearing the calls of crickets from every direction. “We’re doing this together, remember? For art.”

“You can stop selling me. I’m here with you.”

“Yes you are,” he said, unsure what the punch of unease was within him. There was something about her that kept him off balance. Just when he thought he knew where the conversation would go or what her reaction would be, it was something else entirely.

“All right, I think that’s everyone,” the driver spoke eagerly to the group of eight people who huddled around. “Welcome to the night zip line tour where you’ll experience what it feels like to fly like a bird through the night back down to the beach.”

“What’s he talking about?” Ivy whispered to Aiden. “I’m not night zip lining, I won’t even day zip line.”

“It’s an adventure.”

“That’s not an adventure.” She pointed toward total darkness. “That’s death.”

“Think of how frustrating your day was, how pissed off you were not painting like you wanted. I’m your muse, trust me.”

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Only during the day, never at night.”

Hearing that it was his first time too somehow made it mildly better. Then she wouldn’t be the only one experiencing it for the first time by herself, she decided as a harness was adjusted around her, a helmet plopped onto her head, and reflective straps snapped into place on her arms and legs.

Aiden helped secure the strap under her chin, adjusted the red light on the helmet.

Watching him tighten her gear, tending to her, helped distract her from wondering what the hell she was doing. His competence was palpable, his presence securing somehow. The man probably could tame lions. Even if he couldn’t, she thought, if there were a lion around, she’d want Aiden James close by. “Are there mountain lions up here?” she asked the guide who was helping a couple prepare.

“On the island, yes, but mostly on the west side. What you’ll hear or see with your headlamps tonight might be owls, bats, maybe a fox or two. But you’ll be zip lining at speeds up to forty-five miles an hour so no need to worry about the night creatures.”

“Forty-five miles an hour?” she asked, her mouth going dry. “This is absurd. I can’t…”

“You’re kicking artist block’s ass, remember?”

Before her mind could contradict the absurdity of it all, Aiden’s lips pressed to hers, helmets bumping together as he laid a reassuring kiss on her mouth, her nose, her chin, making her laugh and shoo him away. “You’re damn sneaky.”

“I’m your muse. It’s my job.”

“What a sweet couple.” Ivy heard the whisper of a nearby woman.

The young guide heard the whisper too. “Let’s let the sweet couple go first.”

Ivy wanted to correct the guy, that they weren’t a couple, but words disappeared from her tongue at the thought of hurling through space attached to a rope she couldn’t see the end of.

“So just a little bit about the zip lines,” the guy started again, getting everyone’s attention, including the attention of the cricket’s that hushed. “There are five of them in the series. So you’ll go down from here, then reach a platform where you’ll be met by a guide who has on a headlamp, so don’t worry about missing him. He’ll help you get your feet landed securely on the platform, then he’ll get you on your way on the next zip line, and so on.”

“How high above the ground will we be?” someone asked.

“About three hundred feet off the ground in some areas, so, yeah, pretty exciting.”

Ivy’s heart pounded in her ears as the guy continued his speech about safety and what to expect.

“All right, you two. Ready? Who’s first?”

“Want me to go first?” Aiden asked.

From the depth of her she wanted to say yes, but she didn’t want to chicken out and not follow behind. “I’ll go first,” she told him, ordering herself to be brave.

She could do this.

She stepped onto the edge of oblivion and the chorus of crickets picked up their song. She hoped it wasn’t some sort of death tune, like in the suspenseful scene of a movie when a person faces imminent death. “What am I doing?” she whispered to herself. “I’m not going to do this.”

And before her body could catch up with her mind, she was flying through the night with only small blinking stars above her and the red of her helmet light showing the way.

There may have been the hoot of an owl that called through the loud whining of the trolley zooming down the line, but Ivy couldn’t be sure. Her senses had been suspended as she speared through nothingness. She moved faster than time, faster than fear, faster than her own mind, and before she could form a thought, a dimly lit platform appeared into focus.

Her heart leaped into her throat as she came to a halt and the hands of the platform guide helped her to stand.

She raced to catch her breath—had she been holding it the whole time?—and her body felt like jelly as the guide unhooked her, spoke to her, though she had no clue what he was saying. She needed to breathe before anything else would register.

Hearing Aiden fly in, she stepped out of the way, steadied herself against the railing.

He let out a sound of excitement, a man used to the thrill of things, and a boyish grin reached across his face. “That’s one of the coolest things I’ve ever done.”

She coughed out a laugh, finally breathing. “You should see your face.”

“You should see yours,” he told her. “It’s beautiful.”

Her heart leaped again, but this time she wasn’t sure if it was because it was her turn to fly down to the next platform, or because of Aiden.

This time when she flew, she wondered what it would look like through his eyes, through his mind. She imagined herself to be confident like he was, comfortable in a life of adventure. The power of imagination, she thought, finally relaxing enough to inhale and exhale as she soared.

And through the dark, she let go of what blocked her, dropped what she was afraid of. And she flew, simply flew through the night.

 

BOOK: Villa Blue
6.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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