Give & Take (Redbeard Cove #2)

33. Lana

Chapter 33

Lana

“ Y ou should slap him,” Chris says.

Under normal circumstances, I feel like that might be a good idea. Only I’m panicked, worry coursing through me.

“Help me get him out of this coat!” I say.

But Raph’s not a small guy. It takes me, Chris, and Chip the dishwasher to get the thing off. Under the coat he’s wearing a shirt that says in bold font I LOVE OLDER WOMEN with a heart-eye emoji.

I can’t even process that.

“That must have been part of the surprise,” Chris says, nearly dying as she tries to keep from laughing.

“He’s not waking up!” I exclaim. Panic has me breathing hard, not thinking clearly about anything except this man face down on the table, his mouth open like a puppy.

“Lana,” Chris says. “He’s overheated, that’s all.”

Overheated. I grab the glass of water he nearly knocked over as he fell and throw it in his face .

“Lana!” Chris exclaims.

But Raph chokes, spluttering water. He blinks, bracing himself on the table as he sits up. When he sees me, he grins wide. “Hey, Sunshine!”

“Unbelievable. It’s like nothing even happened.” I turn to Chris, who still looks like she’s trying not to laugh. “Can you believe this man?” I ask.

Chip sighs and heads back to the kitchen.

“Oh Lana,” Chris says. She leans in and whispers, “You’ve got it bad. And I love it.” She smiles at Raph, who’s struggling to get up. “Just rest a minute, honey. Then go and take Lana on whatever grand adventure you’ve got planned. I’ll cover your tables, Lana. As soon as he’s in walking condition, get out of here.”

I look at Raph, then I sigh, sliding into the bench beside him. He keels over so he’s lying in my lap. He lets out a contented sigh.

“She told me you were a savant, a chess champion raised in the spotlight as a child. Painfully shy with no social skills.”

“Or dress sense?” he asks.

“What the hell were you doing?”

“Trying to surprise you.”

I close my eyes, trying hard not to laugh. “You are… you’re unbelievable.”

“But it just makes you love me more, right?”

“Yes.” I laugh.

Then I suck in a breath, realizing what I’ve just said.

Luckily Raph seems to still be slightly delirious, because he just rolls onto his back so he’s facing me, but with his eyes closed. “I just need a minute, okay? Then I have a surprise for you.”

“Is it this shirt?” I reach down and touch the letters on his ridiculous shirt.

“No. I mean maybe. But no. I got a truck.”

“You what?”

“Packed a truck.”

I sigh, looking out at the restaurant. Most of the looky-loos have returned to their meals. “Tell me what you’re trying to say, sweetheart,” I say, stroking his hair.

He smiles. “Only if you promise to keep doing that.”

What Raph was trying to say, as it turns out, is that he planned a camping trip for us while the kids are away.

I don’t love camping. I don’t hate it, I just don’t love lying on the ground and having no place to properly relax during the day outside an uncomfortable camping chair. I also don’t love rowdy group campsites. Or bears.

Or cougars.

But Raph has taken care of all of it, because he’s booked us a night at a tiny provincial campground on one of the local gulf islands, where not only are there no predators, but the camping spot is right on the beach.

We also don’t need a tent because he’s got a bed set up in the bed of Cal’s truck.

“Okay,” I say as I fall into the hammock Raph’s spread between two trees that evening with my e-reader. “This is perfection.” Beyond the trees around me, the curve of beach, with its shockingly white sand and azure water, is completely empty. The sun is low and orange in the sky, and the only sound besides Raph puttering around making the fire is the rustle of leaves in the breeze and the soft rush of the ocean lapping at the shore.

Raph blows on the fire, maybe a little too hard, because he sits back after a moment, looking slightly woozy. “I’m fine,” he reassures me. Then he gives me that grin that makes my insides wobble. He’s still wearing that ridiculous t-shirt. “Better than fine since you just called this plan perfection.”

I laugh softly, watching him over my e-reader as he gets out the ingredients for our late-night supper.

He whistles while he works, taking care of everything for me while I read.

The realization hits me that I can’t quite believe this is my life. I feel like I’ve stepped into someone else’s life, and am looking around waiting for the other shoe to drop.

But with Raph, it just doesn’t. He takes pleasure in showing me a good time, both in bed, and in life. He’s happier if he’s doing something, whether that’s making dinner or doing crafts with the girls, or talking animatedly about some obscure woman poet from 18 th century India he just discovered who “describes a mango like it’s a holy object”.

There is no other shoe, I realize. Except for all the reasons our relationship shouldn’t work.

But for now, it does. And I’ve promised myself that’s all I’m allowed to think about.

After dinner, Raph declares he needs to clean off.

It’s a stunning night—out here the stars are so bright we’ve been staring at them for at least twenty minutes while our food settles. “You going to hike to the showers now?” I ask.

There’s one shower, but it’s way on the other side of the tiny campsite.

Raph looks over at me, his head leaning back on his camping chair. “I was thinking about taking a swim.”

“What, now?”

“Why not?”

“It’s dark?”

“I won’t be scared if I’m not alone.”

I gape at him. “I was thinking about tucking in.”

“Really?” He stands up and peels his shirt off.

I bite my lip. I don’t know how I can look at this man all day and forget how beautiful he is. “Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. LaForest?”

“Not yet.” He winks, hooking his thumbs into the top of his shorts.

“Are you going to change right here in the middle of the campsite?” I laugh.

I know he’s likely heading over to the other side of the truck, next to the trees to get his bathing suit on.

But Raph shakes his head. “I’m not changing.”

I frown. “Yes you are.”

He waggles his brow, tugging his shorts down an inch. “Nope. This is called undressing. Stripping, if you prefer.”

To my confused and quickly growing alarmed expression, he lowers his shorts further, revealing the V of muscle at the lower half of his stomach. Then the top of the dark hair at his?—

“Raph!” I exclaim. “We have neighbors!”

“They went to sleep. I’m pretty sure.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he dips his shorts lower and turns around, flashing me his ass.

“Oh my God.” I clap a hand over my eyes. “Stop!”

“Do you really want me to stop, Sunshine? Because I will. But I’m telling you skinny dipping with phosphorescence is a life-changing experience.”

I lower my hand. “There’s phosphorescence here?”

Four years ago, a bloom happened right at the beach at Redbeard Cove, and I took the girls down to swim in it with the rest of the town. I have a giant framed photo of them splashing around in it hanging in the ground floor bathroom at home. Aurora’s only a baby, and her sweet chubby face is lit up as she sits and splashes, while Nova’s doing this spinning thing I somehow managed to capture at the same time with the camera.

Raph asked about the photo early on. I told him it was the one and only time we’ve seen them, and that I consider them extremely lucky, not just because of the picture I got, but because the next day, my divorce to Mike was finalized.

“I checked when you were in the bathroom,” Raph says.

I grimace—the only downside of this campground is the closest toilet to our site is the smelly pit toilets. The flushing ones are over by the shower, a full fifteen minute walk away.

“So?” Raph says. “Stop undressing? ”

“Sure, I’m thinking about the pit toilet now.”

Raphael frowns. “Well that’s not sexy. But this is, right?”

He turns around, teasing his shorts down so far there’s no doubt what another centimeter will do.

“Okay,” I say. “Yes, that’s very sexy.”

And it is. All thoughts fly out of my brain right then, because he drops the shorts right down, freeing himself.

He’s beautiful. Like a Greek statue; an Olympic athlete. But not a beefy one. An archer, maybe. The soft glow of firelight dances across his skin. It catches on the pendant at his chest. The leaf.

“Is there a special meaning to that?” I ask.

“My penis?”

I nearly choke. “Your pendant!”

He walks over to me, the twinkle in his eye telling me he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Yes.” He kneels down and holds it out for me. I try to ignore his nakedness, the way I can feel the heat radiating off of him.

I sit up in the hammock, taking it as he offers, feeling the ridged veins against my fingertips. “What is it?”

“It’s a Hawthorn leaf. This one is from Ireland. The Celts considered the Hawthorn a wild and enchanted tree. Full of power and magic.”

“Why do you wear it?”

“For its most important meaning, in my mind.”

“What’s that?”

“As a tree of love. In folklore they say the Hawthorn opens the heart. I wear it to remember that each breath is magic, each heartbeat a reminder of our connection to a world we don’t fully understand, but where love prevails.”

“Do you have that memorized?” I joke, just to keep the tingling sensation spreading over me in check.

“No, Sunshine. But I’m glad you like it. You do like it, right?”

“I love it,” I say honestly.

“Good.”

I don’t understand why that’s good, but when he reaches his hands out to me, I take them.

“Will you come with me?” Raph asks, his voice lower now. “I promise it’ll be magical.”

I look around, but it’s hard to see anything in the glow of the fire.

“Okay,” I say. “But I want to take my clothes off down by the water,” I say. A concession to modesty.

“You can wear a bathing suit, Lana. I can too, if you’d be more comfortable.”

“No,” I say quickly. I won’t let modesty take away from this magical feeling still tingling over me.

Raph grabs a couple of towels, still tying one at his waist in a move I know is entirely for me.

Once we reach the beach, it’s dark, the only light from the stars above. It’s not an insignificant light, but as far as I know, we’re alone. We’re one of only two campsites that fronts the water, and Raph’s right, the other one has no lights shining at all. I know anyone with any view of the water could see us, but I’m still feeling almost otherworldly .

I pull off my clothes. I half expect Raph to do a wolf whistle or something, but he just looks at me with a kind of reverence. Then he seems to get a hold of himself and reaches for my hand.

When we step into the water, the phosphorescence immediately shows itself, cascading around our steps like trailing underwater fireworks. I gasp, feeling like we’re being given a glimpse of the other side.

“I feel like we’re in the fairy realm,” I whisper as we wade deeper into the cool but not freezing water. I immediately feel like that was a silly thing to say, but Raphael squeezes my hand. “Yeah. That’s exactly what it feels like.”

A moment later we’re fully immersed, and I’m laughing and spinning and waving my arms around like a little kid. “It’s incredible,” I say.

Raph watches me, his expression filled with something I recognize, but am far too scared to acknowledge. A magic sensation like the trill of beautiful music I can feel through every layer and corner and vessel and cell in my body.

Then he does a few ridiculous jumps and spins, telling me he’s been practicing dance with the girls all summer. “Can you tell?” he asks, like I should be deeply impressed.

All I can do is laugh until it hurts as he does more.

When he takes my hands and asks me to dance, I feel like that mermaid in one of those movies my kids have now insisted we watch together. Dancing with my prince .

Later, I float for a while on my back, staring up at the stars, until I begin to shiver.

Raph is there waiting, his arms open as I back up against him. He wraps his arms around me holding me close.

“Do you want to go in?” he asks when my trembling doesn’t stop.

“Not yet,” I say, because it’s not just the cold.

Raph’s hands glide to my hips, a trail of fluorescent light following his fingers like magic. His fingers spread across my belly, holding me where I held my children.

“I love you, Lana,” he whispers, so softly I’m not sure I heard correctly.

My heart beats so loud I could swear it’s creating ripples in the water.

“What?” I whisper.

He turns me around, looking into my eyes. He really does look like a prince, with his hair curling across his forehead; his earnest eyes locked on mine.

I feel like he came from some other place, like I conjured him up. But his hands when he takes mine underwater are solid and firm.

“I’m in love with you,” he says. “And you don’t have to say anything back. I just needed to make sure you heard. It was burning me up inside to feel it and not let you know.”

I’m slick with salt water, my hair in wet strands that stick to my face. But my mouth is suddenly dry. My heart beats like a timpani, but my mouth won’t move.

Raph looks unsure, but it only lasts a flash. He comes forward and kisses me, once more, on the cheek.

“I know you have doubts, Sunshine. But take my love and keep it wherever you need to, so you remember how much you’re loved. No matter what happens. And maybe keep your heart open for me. Just a little.”

I nod. That I can manage. That, I think I know how to do now.