Strangers at Sunset - Chapter #2 - Free To Read

Chapter One

Lisa

One Year Later

The phone is trapped between my ear and my shoulder as I rush around my bedroom shoving sandals in my suitcase. I’m talking to my mom, trying to explain why I’m taking a sudden vacation. People have a lot of suggestions on how you should live your life after the death of a spouse and to be honest I’m tired of hearing it all. It’s been a little over a year since Matt died and I’ve heard everything from advice on finances, to advice on ways to start dating again. I’m over it. All of it. I know everyone means well, but I just want some peace.

My mom is having a little hissy fit because she thinks I need to have someone accompany me on this impromptu vacation. Not going to happen. It’s a two-fold trip and she doesn’t need to know the details yet. The huff of her breath on the other end of the line digs further at my impatience.

“Grab one of your girlfriends or your sister, for God’s sake. Don’t go alone.” Her voice is pleading and strained. “Anything could happen to a woman traveling alone. Besides it will be depressing doing everything alone. You’re trying to avoid depressing things, remember?”

Taking a sharp tone, one I never take with my mother, I say, “Listen, Mom, April has three kids to worry about, and all of my girlfriends have jobs. They can’t just up and leave with a moment’s notice. Besides, I’m thirty-three years old.” I pause and allow a sigh to escape my lips.

“I will be okay. I need this. I need the quiet. I need the peace. Just trust me. I will check in every few days with you or April. I love you, Mom, but I have to go if I want to make this flight.”

I can hear the resignation in her voice as she says, “Okay, honey, be safe. Call me when you get there and check in often. You know I worry.”

“Yes, Mom, I know you do. I promise to keep that in mind.”

“I love you, Lisa.” The tenderness of my mother’s voice is back. It’s the same one she’s used on me for years and I melt a little with love for her.

“I love you, too, Mom. I really do. I’m not trying to worry you. I just…need this.”

“I know. Call me when you get there. Bye, sweetie.”

“Bye, Mom.”

I disconnect and toss the phone into my purse. Then I heft my big suitcase off of the bed, and drag it down the stairs and out the door. The cab driver is waiting with the trunk open. He tosses my suitcase in, while I run back to lock my front door. I climb into the cab with one last glance back at my house.

The buzzing of my phone in my purse diverts my eyes from the Cincinnati skyline that is sliding by in the distance. Checking the name on the display, I see that it’s my lawyer, Mark. We’ve spoken more in the last two weeks, than we did in the first few months following the funeral. I answer it and look out the window as we weave in and out of traffic along I-275.

“Hello, Mark. Have you heard anything yet?” I hoped my voice sounded steady.

“No, should hear soon though. Lisa, if the test comes back positive, Jill can fight for half of the estate or possibly more. I think we need to work up an offer to head that off.”

I sigh as I respond, “If the test comes back positive, I’ll be glad to give up half the estate. I’ll sell the house and give her half of that too, but I want it in a trust for the kid. She says she didn’t know he was married, but I can’t prove that. It’s obvious she’s after money and I don’t mind Matt’s money going to his kid, even if I’m pissed as hell at him for this. I do mind it going to Jill and her blowing it, or living the high life and the kid never seeing a dime of it. See what you can come up with and we will talk when you get the results.”

He’s quiet for a minute before he speaks again, “The kid’s name is Mariah, by the way. It feels cold to be talking about her like an object, despite the situation. I was thinking the same thing, maybe setting up a trust. I’ll start working on that right away. It’s possible this is going to get ugly.”

“I’m sure it will, but if Jill takes us to court and the judge finds my offer reasonable, then I stand a better chance and it’s more likely that the baby…Mariah, will be provided for.”

“I’ve got to say, Lisa, I can’t believe you’re letting this go without more of a fight.”

“If this baby is Matt’s, and I believe that she is, then she deserves half of everything that was his. It’s only right.” I clear my throat hoping to hold off the emotion that’s threatening to spill over.

“My heart is broken, crushed, and I’m pissed as hell, but it’s not the baby’s fault. I’m just not going to give her home-wrecking mother a way to live the high life. I’m sorry I’m so bitter, but it sucked to lose my husband at thirty-two years old, and it fucking blows to find out at almost the same time that he was a serial cheater and I never had a clue. I feel betrayed. I feel like an idiot and I’m so ready for all of this to be over with. Even if the outcome is not what I hope for.”

“I understand. If Matt were alive, I’d kick his ass for putting you in this position. I just want what’s best for you. We’ve been friends for a lot of years and I get what you’re going through. I just wish I could do more to protect you, to make this easier. You were a good wife. You didn’t deserve any of this.”

“I know, I agree. Listen, I’m headed out of town for a little bit. Call me when you hear something. Oh yeah, if you run into anyone from mine or Matt’s family, please don’t say anything. I haven’t told anyone but April. I don’t want to, unless I have to. Hug Jess for me and we will get together for dinner when I get back.” In the back of my mind. I wonder if he’s told Jess about any of this. If the roles were reversed, I’d have wanted to tell Matt.

“Okay, have a safe trip. I won’t say a word. I’ll call you as soon as I hear. Take care, Lisa. Bye.” His voice is sincere and reminds me to be thankful that it’s a friend handling this for me.

“Thanks for everything, Mark. Bye.” I hang up and stuff the phone into my enormous purse. Then I fold my hands in my lap and settle into my memories for the remainder of the ride.

****

Several hours later, I’m stepping off of the plane in sunny Florida. It doesn’t matter that it’s September, it still feels like it does in July back home. Cincinnati can keep all of the nastiness in my life right now. Give me a beach, some sun, and a drink with one of those little umbrellas in it. I’m hoping that will do the trick. I take note of the choking, humid air and can almost feel the natural curl of my hair frizzing and expanding as I wait for the hotel shuttle to pick me up. The resort is located in a little beach town on the Gulf of Mexico and according to the Internet, it’s a little slice of paradise. I discovered the hotel while watching a reality show with my niece, about guys who build lavish fish tanks for millionaires and businesses. I think the idea to come here took root while I watched the show.

I climb on to the shuttle and slide into a seat by the window as the rest of the passengers board. I close my eyes and rest my head on the window until we pull out into traffic. The traffic is dense and the industrial buildings dot the landscape for the first few miles, but it doesn’t take long for the water to come into view. The sun is high, its rays leaving little sparkles all over the water. It’s almost as if someone sprinkled diamonds on the surface. The pelicans fly low in formation before taking turns to dive in the water. I’m already excited and I haven’t even set foot in the sand.

Once we unload, I make my way to the check-in counter where the bouncy, young desk clerk slides my room keys and a map of the resort across the counter to me with a huge smile.

“Welcome to Florida, Mrs. Browning. Enjoy your stay.”

I thank her and step away from the desk feeling lighter already and follow the map to my room. When I push the door open, happiness in the form of color greets me and I give myself a mental pat on the back for choosing this room. The website called it a Romance Room so I debated about booking it, since I’m alone, but after looking at all the other options I knew this was the one for me. It’s painted a vibrant yellow and accented with ocean blue and aqua carpets and throw pillows. There are Guy Harvey prints on the walls and the furniture is a blonde-colored wood. It looks like a room you’d find at a hotel in the islands. I have a king-sized bed, a huge whirlpool tub, a wall-length mirror, and a balcony that overlooks the beach. Bright, cheery, and comfortable. It’s perfect, exactly what I needed.

Since this time last year, it feels like I’ve only been able to see in black or white. It’s almost like the world went dormant when Matt died. This place is refreshing and causes a long overdue smile to cross my lips. Kicking off my shoes, I curl my toes into the plush carpet. I place my suitcase against the wall and head straight for the balcony. There are two plastic white chairs and two white chaise lounges facing the water, so I plop down in one of the chairs, close my eyes, and take a deep, relaxing breath as the sea breeze pushes my hair back over my shoulders.

The rumble of my stomach pulls me back to reality and I realize that I haven’t called my mom like I’d promised or eaten since this morning. I groan in frustration as I dig my phone out from the depths of my giant purse. I call my mom to let her know that I’m okay and checked in, and that I’ll be texting some, but I’ll be relaxing and not to worry.

I stuff my room keycard, some cash, and my driver’s license in my little, ivory wristlet and wander down to the tiki bar that sits just off of the beach. It’s an open-air bar and grill with the gulf waters as the backdrop. Once I’m perched at a high top table a few feet from the actual bar, I order a frozen strawberry daiquiri and a chef salad. Jimmy Buffet songs are coming from the speakers by the bar, helping to further immerse me in vacation mode. Fried food and ocean air invade my nose and make me almost giddy to think about how far from home I really am.

This last year has been rough. Being a thirty-three year old widow is not something I expected to happen. In fact, of all the scenarios I considered with my life, that was not one that ever even crossed my mind. The other stuff that’s popped up in the last six months has been even worse. So, while I’m here I’m going to avoid thinking about any of that, as much as possible, and try to live a little again.

It’s late afternoon and it dawns on me that if I finish my drink and shuffle down to the beach I’ll be able to catch the sunset. As I’m trying to get the attention of my server, I realize the tiki bar is almost empty. There are only two other people sitting on the other side of the bar. It’s right then that a guy, I’m guessing, close to my age, saunters in wearing board shorts, flip flops and sunglasses on his head.

My heart. Stops. Beating.

Suddenly, the air feels heavy and warm, very warm. Like, I-want-to-fan-myself warm.

No shirt, and thank God for that because he has a sexy as hell torso. Skin brown from the sun, and lean, well-defined muscles cover his entire body. Broad shoulders and a masculine chest with a light dusting of dark hair draw my line of sight down further. There is a thin but dark happy trail that starts right under his belly button, bisects the lower portion of his six-pack abs and disappears into his swim trunks. Tearing my gaze away from his lower region, I shift my perusing eyes to his face, specifically, the lush lips surrounded by a dark goatee, then on to his perfect, Greek nose. His dark eyebrows, and short cropped, brown hair match his complexion in the most perfect way. I wish I could stop staring, but I just can’t seem to peel my eyes away. It feels obnoxious the way I’m ogling him. Dear God, please don’t let him notice.

I’m observing this guy as discreetly as possible, while I continue to consume my umbrella drink and wait for the server. No one ever comes to join him and he’s not wearing a wedding ring either. His smile is bright as he chats it up with the bartender while drinking his beer. My eyes are laser focused on his lips and throat as he swallows. I can’t hear what they’re talking about, but I catch the baritone sound of his voice floating on the wind every now and then. His continued smiling during conversation alone would capture my attention even without the body of a Greek god. It’s a confident, happy smile with white, straight teeth and the perfect lips for a man. I mean perfect.

As the sunset nears, I pay the server and grab my third daiquiri, which he put in a disposable cup for me. Then I wander down to the beach and find a spot on the sand and spend the next half-hour mesmerized by the blue, pink, and purple clouds that streak the horizon as the giant, orange ball sinks into the gulf right before my eyes. It’s spectacular, yet peaceful. There is a family a little further down the beach whose kids are still playing in the surf, but otherwise the beach appears to be deserted. My mind drifts to the handsome stranger and I wonder if he’s still up at the bar.

Garrett

Most of the time, I love my job. How many people get to travel the world and make a ton of money just by snapping pictures? I know a lot of those people because I’m in that industry, but I come from a blue-collar family so I understand that most people don’t get to live like I do.

Sometimes though the assignments are difficult because the subjects are temperamental or an idea for a particular shot just doesn’t work out, like now. I’ve been working on this assignment for three weeks and am still not satisfied with what I have. I thought this one would be easy. I’ve grown up in Florida and I understand what draws people here. Enjoy Florida! is the campaign I’m shooting for so I thought the best place to work on all this was on the beaches. I do plan to head north to the Nature Coast area for some different shots later in the week, but I want the beach to be the focal point. Now, I’m weeks into this project and I still don’t have anything close to what I envisioned.

If my muse stays hidden I may have to grab a couple of sexy, young models in skimpy bikinis and head to South Beach to wrap this up. I really don’t want anything posed. I’ve been aiming for natural from the start. You know, real people enjoying the beach here. That’s so much more compelling to the average person than bikinis, tans and fake boobs. Although that’s all nice to look at, it’s been done over and over again. I like my work to stand out. Fresh and original is the hope I have for each project. The fact that I don’t go with the expected is what has made me successful to date.

I sling the black bag over my shoulder that holds several different lenses, grip the camera in my palm and leave my room. Stopping for a drink on my way for a sunset picture sounds like a good idea, so I head in that direction. Maxi, the bartender makes me laugh every time I see him and as frustrated as I am right now, I could use that.

As I approach the tiki bar the sound of a familiar Jimmy Buffett tune drifts out of the speakers helping the vacationers get in the right frame of mind. The weathered, faux-thatched roof ruffles in the breeze, but what draws my eye is a mass of long, curly blonde hair. It might be the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen. The owner of the hair is turned, looking to the side so I can only see her profile. I can’t imagine that the person attached to that mane could be half as gorgeous as her hair.

Her head turns back my way and, so I’m not caught staring, I move the focus of my eyes to the bartender. I round the corner hoping to get a better view without being obvious. I take a stool on the other side of the bar from where I’ve been sitting all week. Maxi gives me a raised eyebrow and follows my line of sight. He’s figured it out. A deep chuckle rumbles next to me as he leans in and says, “She just arrived today. Looks like she’s alone and there’s no wedding ring.” He taps on his ring finger to emphasize the point.

I grin at him and shake my head. Part of what makes him good at his job is that he’s observant. I’ve been in need of female companionship for a couple of weeks now, but nothing has really caught my eye and it’s rare that I see the same woman twice. I refuse to get tied down with anyone and if you see the same woman more than once, it’s been my experience that they start planning a wedding in their head. One woman even went so far as to merge pictures of our faces on some website to see what our kids were going to look like. The night she told me about that was the last night I ever saw her. I have zero interest in a long-term relationship. Not going to happen. Ever.

When the blonde finally looks up toward the bar area from her high-top table, my jaw drops. She is a knockout. So fucking hot. Delicate facial features, a hint of dimples, high cheekbones, and lashes so long I can see them from here. A long graceful neck leads the eyes to her ample cleavage and if I’m not mistaken, those are God-given, not silicone.

Her thighs are covered by a short sundress. One white sandal rests precariously on the end of the toes on her left foot and her right foot has dropped the other one altogether. I cannot take my eyes off of her. She looks up once and catches me staring so I flash her a smile and turn a little to spark a conversation with Maxi. I’m pretty sure she’s watching me, but I refuse to turn and look at her again until I hear her stool squeak with movement. Blondie pays her tab, gives Maxi a finger wave and a small smile, and disappears across the wooden bridge to the beach with a cup in one hand and a wallet or something in the other.

I slam the rest of the amber liquid down my throat and squint when the burn runs its course to my gut. I snatch my black bag up and toss a few bills on the bar.

“I’ll be back. I need some sunset pictures,” I call to Maxi as I hurry toward the same bridge she just crossed.

Maxi laughs and I hear in his Jamaican accent, “I bet you need more than that!”

As my feet leave the dock and sink into the warm sand, I’m saying a silent prayer that she’s not too far ahead of me. When I locate her, she’s not walking down the beach like I expected. She’s seated in the sand with her long, sexy legs stretched out in front of her. The hem of her dress is riding high on her thighs exposing more skin, making my dick twitch in my shorts. Damn.

She’s leaning back on her hands causing her abundant breasts to jut forward. With her eyes trained only on the colorful sunset in front of her the mass of hair is hanging down her back between her shoulder blades. She is breathtaking. Proof that God was listening when I was begging for a muse.

I attach the correct lens to my camera as quickly as I can and start snapping away. I’m waiting for her to notice me, but her eyes never leave that sunset. Her expression changes from content to sad and back to content in the course of time it takes the sun to fully sink below the horizon. At one point she pulls her hair into a thick ponytail, but she never leaves the spot or looks around. I’ve worked with some of the most beautiful models in the world and none of them holds a candle to this woman. There is absolutely no doubt that I’m in lust.

Lisa

Once the sun lowers beyond the water line, I grab my empty cup and meander along the shoreline, allowing the cool water of the gulf to wash over my feet and ankles. The sky is dark now, but the lights from the hotels and condos that line the beach here leave enough light for me to wander without issue. When I’ve had enough walking I dust the excess sand off of my feet and slip my sandals back on and cross the bridge back to the tiki bar for another drink.

This time I park myself at the bar. There are a few more people here now. The various tones of voices float across the outdoor space, most of them foreign languages so I have no idea what’s being said. Maxi brings me another drink and I sit in silence until he engages me in polite conversation.

He’s in his early twenties, Jamaican-born, with the accent to match. He’s cute, but young enough that I wonder if he’s even old enough to be slinging drinks behind a bar. I tell him I’m from Cincinnati and am here on vacation. We chat for a while until the shirtless guy from earlier returns and chooses a stool a few down from me. He waves at the bartender, holds up a finger, and looks over to give me a polite smile and head nod.

Maxi asks the guy, “Did you get what you needed?”

“No, but I got something better.”

I’m trying not to eavesdrop, but I just can’t help myself. This guy is sexy as hell and the confident way he holds himself intrigues me. It’s not arrogance so much as self-assurance.

“Well, what did you get that could be better than our sunset?” Maxi inquires with a little bit of disbelief in his voice.

“Maxi, the only thing better than a sunset photograph, is a photograph of a beautiful woman enjoying that sunset.”

I look over at him wondering where he was taking his photos. There was no one else on the beach, but the one family much further down from me. Our eyes connect and a smile spreads across that handsome face. There is a little twinkle of mischief in his eyes and that’s when I realize he’s talking about me. Flattered, I can’t help myself so I smile back.

I’m wondering how he got pictures of me with the sunset when I didn’t see him, but I still haven’t said anything, so he takes the reins.

Already in motion he asks, “Do you mind if I sit next to you?”

“Um, no. I mean sure, that would be fine.” A giggle follows that and I know I sound like a middle school girl. He plants himself on the stool right next to mine. With a blinding white smile, Maxi glances between us, then turns and drifts toward the other side where other guests are seated.

“I’m Garrett Kline.” He holds his hand out for me to shake it, so I put mine out too, and instead of a hearty handshake, he surprises me by lifting my hand to his lips, kissing my fingers with an old school charm very few men our age can pull off. If someone else did that I might find it cheesy, but not the way he did it.

“I’m Lisa Browning.” The words come out kind of breathy. It’s embarrassing, but who can blame me. This guy is smoking hot and it’s obvious that he’s flirting with me. It’s been a long time since someone flirted with me.

“Are you on vacation, Lisa?”

“Yes, just escaping life for the next week. What about you?”

“Nah, I’m working. It’s just a bonus that it happens to be in a place like this. Can I show you what I was working on this afternoon?”

“Sure. I’ve got nothing else to do.” I give him a cheeky grin, with a secret hope that I can remember how to flirt without embarrassing myself.

He turns on the digital camera and pulls up the images he shot earlier. There are some that I’m assuming he took earlier in the day at a different location, then there are the ones he took at sunset. I’m in every single one of them. I should be a little scared that some guy I don’t know was taking pictures of me and is now sitting right next to me flirting. Ted Bundy comes to mind, but I sweep that thought away and study the pictures. I wish the screen were bigger so I could get more detail, but even small, what he captured is magnificent. I can’t believe I didn’t notice him doing all of this. He has several different angles from behind and from both sides. In a couple of them I look sad and in a couple I look content in the moment, which is beautiful. Those are the moments I know I was at peace. I’ve never had self-esteem issues, but it’s been awhile since I looked at myself and saw beautiful. If it wasn’t me, I’d be envious of the lady in the pictures.

“Wow. You do amazing work. I can’t believe I didn’t notice you out there that whole time.”

“You seemed pretty engrossed in the view,” he states.

“Yeah, some moments are just meant to be savored and that was one of them. If I lived here I don’t think I’d ever get tired of that view.”

“I agree with you. There are some things that are meant to be enjoyed with the same amount of reverence the first time as the five-hundredth time.”

We sit and make small talk for the next hour getting to know each other. His voice seduces me, just with its baritone timber and I relish having the full attention of this sexy man. Thoughts of running my fingertips across the ridges of his abs distract me. I continue to drink and so does he. Maxi comes back and joins in for a short time and before you know it, I’m not feelin’ any pain. It doesn’t take much with me, but I passed tipsy a while ago. In my head I’m feeling funny and sexy. I hope I’m not acting like an idiot and just don’t realize it.

Garrett stands and reaches out a hand to me. “Want to walk on the beach with me?”

If I were thinking clearly, I’d probably say no, just because I don’t know this guy. My common sense went out the window with drink number five, so I grasp his hand and say yes. Tingles run all the way up my arm to my spine when we connect and I’m suddenly breathless. This has never happened to me before. When I was a teenager and Matt started to pursue me, I’d get butterflies when he was near me, but never this response.

He pays both of our bills and asks Maxi to watch our stuff for a little bit. His fingers lace with mine as he leads me down to the beach. I’m in a short sundress that buttons up the front and sandals, so I kick off my shoes and leave them by the dock to the beach.