Chapter 4

thanks for your patience, this keeping up the tension is killing me!!

She heard the damned bell over the damn door dingling again and checked her watch. This day had been far too long and far too weird. If they hadn’t been giving her these knowing, strange little smiles, the customers had been giving her dirty looks all day. It was fucking weird and she’d had enough of it for one day. She’d just about mustered the courage to ask the last of the old guys to come back with his little tin pail, empty and cleaned out thank god, but it didn’t seem like he could beat a path out of the store fast enough. She’d been ready to turn the sign around there and then and go into the house to hide under a pile of pillows and a comforter or two, but that damned bell….

“Oh, it’s you.” Could you be happy and disappointed to see someone at the same time? Her body lit up like a candle to see those hazel eyes, those full, soft pink lips and those wickedly high cheekbones. At the same time, she wanted very much to hide behind the counter and pretend she’d never seen him. She’d had a cat once that did that. He would hide behind something that didn’t exactly hide him completely but as long as he couldn’t see you he’d been pretty sure he was invisible. Tabby longed for that same ability to wish him away but when she took a deep breath and forced herself to look up into those hazel eyes, her knees almost gave way beneath her.

“I’m sorry if I offended you earlier,” he began, much to her surprise. “I mean if I offended you’re artistic sensibilities,” he added, as if it was an afterthought, which also made her take a step back and force down the girly, bouncy, happy feelings that had begun to bubble toward the surface.

“It’s a job,” she reiterated in what she hoped was a cold and disinterested voice as she opened the till and took the money drawer and placed it beside the adding machine on the counter. He didn’t seem to take the hint though, even when she pulled out a handful of bills and started counting. “Fine,” she snapped, grabbing an elastic band and putting it around the pile of blue five dollar bills. “I’ll put a goatee or a mustache or something on it, is that what you’re fishing for?” She looked up to see if this promise would be good enough to make him disappear so that she could stop shaking as she tried to count through the pile of purple ten dollar bills in the tray but they kept sticking together. It really wasn’t fair, him standing there in what looked like it would be a soft grey cashmere sweater, looking boyishly handsome, as if butter wouldn’t melt, as innocent as a child.

“I don’t want you to change anything.” His hand was suddenly wrapped around her wrist and Tabby stared down at his hand and then at the muscular forearm that was forcing his fingers to clamp down on her arm like a vice. It should have made her angry, but her brain immediately went to a place where he had her pinned to a bed, his body pressing her down into the mattress and his lips…oh god, those lips….. “I’m flattered,” he said more quietly, his grip loosening until she looked up into his solemn gaze. He was wearing an expression that aged him at least ten years but it also made her believe him too. “Which is why I’m here, “ he added even more quietly as an older man with a beard and one of those tractor hats the locals seemed to favor came in the door, making that damn bell jingle.

Patrick quickly withdrew his hand and Tabby wasn’t sure but she thought he looked vaguely guilty as he stepped back from the counter. She narrowed her eyes at him but kept the question that immediately leapt to her lips to herself and instead craned her neck and beamed a friendly smile towards the would-be customer.

“I’m closed, sorry,” she called out and though the man gave them a suspicious once over, he tipped his hat graciously and headed out the door, sending the bell jingling again. She made a mental note to take that thing down. “Jumpy much?” she asked, keeping her voice low and even as she went back to counting the bills in front of her.

“It’s a small town,” he shrugged, as if that were explanation enough. Tabby thought about pointing out that he’d been seen leaving this very spot in the early hours of the day but decided not to bring it up. She reminded herself that she was supposed to still be angry at him about that. “Anyway,” he brightened, “I came bearing a peace offering.” Tabby looked up at the sound of something substantial hitting the counter. It was an old fashioned picnic basket, dark woven willow with a blue and white checkered cloth sticking out of the edges. It sounded full. Tabby raised her eyebrow at him and then went back to counting the takings.
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He’d known the minute he’d phoned to make the reservation that it had been a mistake. The maitre d’ had known his voice immediately and had sounded just a little too happy to be of service and Sidney had developed a major case of cold feet as far as actually going public with Tabby was concerned. Not that he was ashamed to be seen with her, far from it. No, it was that niggling feeling in the pit of his stomach that he always had when it came to women – ‘does she really like me?’ And by me he meant the boy from Cole Harbor not young millionaire NHL superstar, Sidney Crosby and he knew if he took her to that restaurant, his cover would be blown and he might never have the chance to find that out.

So, he’d had the restaurant make up the picnic basket instead. He hadn’t really been thinking of it as a more romantic alternative. Not until he’d walked in to see her in that strapless little black and white gingham summer dress, belted tight around her small waist, flaring gently over her hips. She didn’t belong in and amongst the lures and worms. She belonged in that restaurant, but he was happy to have her all to himself…that was if she was even going to talk to him.

“I thought maybe we could spread the blanket at the end of the dock?” he suggested and thought he could see the see the hint of a smile at the corners of her full mouth. It was a small sign of forgiveness and it gave him hope.

“Oh you did, did you?” she put a small handful of bills into an envelope and put the rest back in the tray, sliding it back into the register. “I suppose I have to eat sometime,” she continued, turning to head into the house through the back door before turning back to him with a raised eyebrow, her dark eyes dancing with amusement. “Well, are you going to lock that door and come with me or what?”

Sid found himself laughing as he strode to the front door, throwing the lock on it and turning the sign around to read closed. That feeling in his gut was gone, uncertainty replaced by a nervous sort of excitement. He even found himself wiping a sweaty palm down the thighs of his jeans as he made his way into the old house, the basket of wine and food in his other hand.

She was standing out on the deck with her back to him and Sid found himself staring at those legs of hers’ again, noticing the way she crossed one ankle over the other and the back foot bounced to the rhythm of some unheard beat as she leaned over the railing, her eyes scanning the horizon as the sun began to sink towards the top of the tree line. Sidney froze in the doorway as Tabby reached back to gather her long dark hair up into a ponytail, shoving one of those sckrunchy thing over the mass of silken darkness, revealing an elaborate tattoo that seemed to cover most of what he could see of her back.

“That must have hurt,” he mumbled, not really meaning to say it out loud, but knew he did when her hands paused in pulling her hair through the elastic and slowly turned to face him.

“Not after a while,” she admitted with a sly sort of smile. “I forget that it’s even there to tell the truth,” she admitted with a half a shrug.

“Can I…can I see it?” he asked ands she nodded, pulling her pony tail over her shoulder and turning to give him her back. Sid closed the distance between them in two strides and set the basket down at her feet before reaching out, with every intention to run his fingertips along the spidery lines of the wings that spread out over her shoulder blades, except that his hands began to shake and he couldn’t quite make himself lay his hands on her skin. He could feel the heat radiating from her skin as the last rays of the day’s sun poured over her shoulders and it was almost like holding his hands out to a campfire. “Wh...what is it?” he asked instead, taking a step back so that the sweet, almost sugary scent of her skin was not quite as overwhelming.

“It’s a Manitou,” she said simply as she let her hair drop back over the lines swimming in front of his eyes. “It’s a native thing…well, it’s sort of a Manitou and a Celtic fairy at the same time. You know, mixed together, kind of like a representation of my heritage,” she explained, heading towards the stairs that lead down to the dock. She turned when she stood on the first stair and his breathing stopped entirely as her gaze slid down his body, slowly, very slowly and then just as slowly her gaze made its’ way back up to meet his again. “You coming?” she asked, and then, without waiting for a reply, she turned and headed down the stairs and out of his sight.

‘You can’t handle her’, he told himself bluntly. He could hear Max in his head, laughing and telling him that she was ‘way too much woman’ for him and yet, he felt a goofy sort of grin spread across his face as he headed down the stairs after her. He didn’t live by believing that he couldn’t do things. Can’t wasn’t in his vocabulary.
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Tabby licked her fingers before using a napkin. It seemed like a waste to lose even a single morsel of the scrumptious food from the basket. When he’d first opened the basket she’d expected, cheese and crackers, maybe a sandwich or two. What she hadn’t expected was an eighty dollar bottle of wine, brie and goat cheese, cold chicken, honeyed figs, grapes, strawberries and for desert, bite size chocolate dipped cheesecakes. She’d tried to eat like a bird, but the food had just been too damn good. But now, as she looked at him over the serviette she was embarrassed to find him watching her with some obvious amusement.

“I don’t remember if I even ate today,” she tried to explain, but he only smiled and reached forward to offer her another of those chocolate covered squares of fattening, creamy goodness. She told herself not to but it was far too tempting not to press her lips around his fingers and take it from him. Was it her imagination or did his eyes go a little wider? Did he stop breathing for just a moment as her lips withdrew from his fingers?

“I actually prefer it when girls don’t play that game, say they aren’t hungry, they’ll just have a side salad or something and then they eat half of my order,” he grinned, picking up his real, crystal glass and sipping at the chilled white wine that almost tasted of peaches she thought and that made her think of how his tongue might taste, what with the strawberries he’d just been eating and now that wine….

“At least you didn’t do that thing that most men do,” she replied, shaking her head when he went to pick up another treat from the plate, but smiled as he picked up a strawberry instead and inserted it carefully in between her teeth. She bit off half of the ripe, red fruit and left the other half for him. He popped it into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

“Burp…fart?” he asked after a moment’s thought.

“No,” she laughed and ducked her head to one side. Why was it so embarrassing to have him say that? “So many guys…they just fill their faces, scooping the food into their mouths like they’re never going to have another meal in their lives…. It’s disgusting.” She wrinkled her nose as she thought of some of the half starved musicians she’d dated. Of course it might have been that they really hadn’t eaten in a week.

“I know what you mean. Even some of the guys…the guys I work with…yeah, it’s like get a shovel already,” he agreed as he leaned back on his strong arms and stared up at the sky that had already turned that deep velvet navy colour of darkness, lit by what seemed like a million stars. “This is a good spot. You must enjoy it here,” he added suddenly and Tabby gazed up at the sky and had to admit, it was very, very pretty.

“I do…and I don’t. I can’t get used to the silence,” she practically whispered, as if she was half afraid some beehive wearing librarian was going to come out of nowhere with a meter stick to shush her. “I guess I’m just a city girl at heart,” she admitted, still staring up at the sky while she reached for another ripe, juicy strawberry, only to find his hand there. She froze, her heart ceasing to beat altogether until she heard his childlike laugh as he slid his hand from beneath hers’ and picked up the last strawberry.

“Share?” he asked and she nodded. He slide the red fruit between his full pink lips and bit into it with his straight white teeth and Tabby thought she was going to have a stroke. It was sinful how fucking sexy that was. She had to swallow hard just to open her mouth to take the rest of the fruit as he offered it to her. ‘You started it’ she told herself firmly, ‘you can’t be mad at him if he teases you right back’. “So, you’re not from here,” he continued, as if they hadn’t just been feigning sex faces at one another.

“No,” she furrowed her brow, trying to remember what, if anything she might have already told him. “I came here…I don’t remember, a few summers I guess,” she explained, suddenly self conscious about her teeth being stained red, looking like something off of True Blood.

“Yeah, I thought I would have remembered…,” he began and then turned to her, swinging his whole body around so that he was sitting cross legged on the edge of the blanket across the basket from her. “But you said you were here…I mean here,” he pointed at the very spot they were now sitting on, “during the summer?” Tabby nodded and then shrugged.

“Well…probably not during the day,” she admitted, glancing back at the big old house and the bay window from which she’d watched those endless summers go by. “I’d have been up there, most days,” she pointed at the bedroom window and then got down on her stomach to trail her fingertips through the cold, dark liquid below the dock. “I usually only came down here at night, by myself,” she recalled with a smile. “I like to swim,” she admitted, her voice low as she remembered walking out to this spot in the utter darkness, alone, barefoot. “I just wasn’t ever much of a believer in swim suits.” She glanced over at where he was now lying on his stomach next to her. She wasn’t sure how, or when he’d got there but she saw the vision of her, standing on this very spot, naked as a the day she was born and she couldn’t help but giggle, just a little, as his eyes widened. “I mean, pools, yeah but rivers, lakes? C’mon,” she added, giggling as he swallowed audibly.

“So last night…were you…when I got here were you…?” His voice trailed away and she knew he couldn’t clear the vision out of his head and she wondered if she wanted him to. His gaze fell on her mouth and for the second…maybe the third time since she’d met him, Tabby wondered if Patrick was going to kiss her. He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers with hers’ as he pulled her closer to him and suddenly she couldn’t feel the rough old timbers beneath them. She thought she could have been on a bed of pillows…pillows like his lips and…

“Kowabunga!!”

Something large and dark flew over top of them and canon balled into the lake, sending a shower of freezing cold water cascading over them both and Tabby heard herself screeching at the top of her lungs.
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Sidney felt as if he could have committed murder and there wouldn’t have been a court in the land that would have convicted him in that moment.

They’d been talking about getting naked. He’d been about to kiss her. Maybe they would have made love, right there in the dark on the dock. Maybe they’d have gone skinny dipping and got up on some mud bank and had amazing, mind altering, universe shifting sex. Now he’d never know, because his ‘friend’ Max was bobbing to the surface of the lake, a fountain of water erupting from between his lips before he grinned up at them.

“Your dad said we might find you here,” Max smiled broadly, as if he knew exactly what he’d done and thought it hilarious.

“Did he?” Sidney pursed his lips and added patricide to his to do list for the rest of the evening because he knew damn well, even if he told Max exactly what it was he was interrupting that the furry Frenchman wouldn’t care. “And who’s we?”

“Mon ami, you don’t think Max could find his way here tout seul?” Sid shut his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. The Francaphone funny boys, great, just great.

“I should’ve known,” he muttered, half under his breath before turning to look at where Tanger was standing, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, a ball cap holding back what he knew was long, unkempt dark hair. Still, he could see the impish grin of his friend even in the shadows.

“So, qu’avons-nous ici?” Max asked, dragging himself up, dripping, onto the dock where he then proceeded to shake on them like some kind of wet dog.

“I’m really sorry about this,” Sidney turned to Tabby who was standing, also dripping and looking very unimpressed, about as far away from him as she could get, her arms crossed across her chest. “These are…my friends. Tabby…Tabitha, this is Max,” he gestured towards his dripping, bewhiskered friend who was now eyeing his date rapaciously despite the silent threat that Sidney tried to send his way. “And this is Kris, who is somewhat better behaved,” he explained, though this show of restraint wasn’t going to win Tanger any favors the minute they were alone.

“Nice to meet you both,” she hissed between clenched teeth. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to go inside, get dry and warm. Goodnight Patrick,” she snarled and brushed past him, nearly pushing him out of the way as she marched down the dock, forcing Kris to practically turn entirely sideways to avoid being shoved off of the dock. Kris stretched his arms out in supplication, as if to say ‘what did I do?’ but Sidney just shook his head and he knew his teammates knew him well enough to read the ‘don’t even fucking talk to me’ look he was wearing on his face.

“Patrick?” Max asked, his thick eyebrows raised in query, obviously amused at the idea of subterfuge.

“Just…just help me clean this up and…and do me a favor and don`t fucking ask any more questions,” Sidney snarled, reaching for the basket and stuffing the remaining food inside. Max laughed as he reached for the bottle of wine, and Sid could tell he intended to upend it. Sid just stared at him and Max silently handed him the bottle instead and then even Tanger helped to empty the glasses into the lake and didn`t even reach for as much as a grape before they picked up the blanket and followed him up to his car.