A Taste of Utopia (21 page)

Lottie

I STUDY SETH’S FACE.
He looks down at me with an intensity that is new and intimidating.

“God, Lottie,” he says with a slow roll of his hip. “It’s never felt this good. I swear it. Damn it all to hell if I ever came this good.”

His daunting eyes lock on mine. “What’s happening to us? Tell me you feel it too. Jesus, is it just me?”

“I feel it too, Seth,” I finally say. “I see it too. But it’s too intense, too bright. I’m afraid that whatever this is, if I get any closer, it will burn me.” There. Now he knows my feelings. He knows I’m way out of my league here.

“I won’t let it burn you, baby. I promise.”

“Let me dress you.” He pulls the two pieces of my bikini from his pocket.

I brace my hands on the cold stone. Seth sweeps his fingers over my skin while settling my bikini back into place. Then he pulls his trunks over his hips and grimaces as he adjusts himself.

“What is it with you that makes me hard all the time? I just had you, and I want it again. I haven’t been this horny since I was a teenager.” He leans his hard body against me and I sense his rigid erection pressing on my tummy.

An involuntary smile blooms on my face. I can’t help but feel empowered by his statement.

“Is it not always like this? Cause I, too, can’t have enough of you.”

“Nope, it’s not at all like this. Trust me.”

“Well, then, I guess I’ll enjoy it while it lasts.” I splash water on him and offer a grin.

“I have a feeling this is a long-lasting thing. Like until the end of times.”

My grin turns into a full smile. “Lead the way,” I say before I jump him so we can have sex again. What’s gotten into me? I feel sexy and bold.

With a few strokes, we make it back to the shore where we dropped our clothes.

“If we keep up a good pace, we can make it back in time to shower before dinner is served,” he says, wiping the sand off his feet before putting his socks and shoes on. Then he gathers my shoes and wipes my feet clean. The muscles in his arms and bare shoulders ripple with each movement as he slides my socks and sneakers on. I watch, mesmerized.

“Are you up to it?”

“Huh?” I shake my head to disperse the state of enchantment his body puts me under.

“Enjoying the view?” He cocks his head. His eyes glint with amusement.

“I, yeah, I, uh, sure,” I say as my cheeks turn red, and I resist the urge to look away. At times like this, I wish I were more assertive.

Seth pulls a shirt over his magnificent chest, making me mourn the loss of the view. He smiles broadly. “I’m yours to look at and do with as you please, woman. No need to get all flustered when I notice you’re admiring what belongs only to you.” He pecks a kiss on the tip of my nose. “Let’s roll.” He gathers my hand and we head down the trail.

As he predicted, we make it back in time for a quick shower before dinner.

Fully dressed, I examine my complexion in the bathroom mirror. A soft glow covers my usually pale skin. My eyes are what catch my attention. They are wider, vivid, and alive with color and emotion.

I’m applying a layer of lip gloss when I hear a soft knock on the bedroom door.

“Come in,” Seth calls out, followed by the squeak of the door opening.

“Auntie Lottie?” Jake calls.

“Hey, little man, your auntie is finishing getting ready. You know girls, they take forever.”

“My mom doesn’t,” Jake replies.

A brief silence follows before Seth says. “I guess your mom is an unusual female.” I hear the smile in his voice.

I open the bathroom door and stand at the threshold, watching their interaction.

“Oh, Dad says Mommy is unique and mysterious. I forgot what unique means.”

“It means one of a kind. And your dad is right, some girls have a mystery to them; we must unravel it.”

“Huh?” Jake asks, his features scrunching up.

“Like when you get a gift. It’s all wrapped up right?”

“Mm-hm.” Jake’s head bobs up and down.

“You have to unwrap the paper to find out what’s inside, right?”

“Yep, like when I got my X-men. They were wrapped in blue paper.”

“And you had no idea what was inside, right?”

“I kind of hoped it was one of the X-men. And I kind of knew it was.”

“But only after you opened it you knew for sure, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“That’s how girls are. You have to unwrap, peel every layer of paper until you find out what’s inside. Then you will know how to deal with them. And trust me, Jake, girls are complicated.”

“Dad says that a lot about Mom. He says he never knows how Mom is feeling. But I’ll tell him to unwrap her so he can know what to do.”

Seth’s laughter reverberates through the room sending a thrill up my spine. He doesn’t laugh out loud much, the sound is beautiful, crystal.

And just like that, I make it my life mission to make him laugh like that more often.

I approach them. Seth is lying on his back, his hands tucked under his head. Jake is sitting with his little legs swinging off the edge of the bed.

“Hey, little guy,” I say, placing a kiss on his head.

“Grandma said dinner will be served shortzly.”

“You mean shortly,” I say, giggling.

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

“All righty, then.” I ruffle his hair.

“Ready?” I ask Seth.

“Yep. All that swimming helped me work up an appetite,” he says with a wink.

A blush creeps up chest, neck, and face. There was absolutely no swimming in that lagoon.

We exit the bedroom. My parents and grandparents all stand up when we enter the living room.

“Hope we’re not late,” I say.

“No. Not at all, Marta is running behind,” Mom says. Marta is the housekeeper as well as the cook.

“Come here, handsome boys, sit with me,” Granny asks Seth and Jake.

I halt, undecided if I should sit across the room next to Dad, my usual spot. But Seth tugs my hand and pulls me next to him. His hand slides over my leg until it settles on my thigh.

Dad’s eyes zoom to Seth’s hand, and he cringes. His sour expression does nothing to conceal his discontent.

“Now, you have to tell me how you two met. And,
please,
if it wasn’t romantic, make up something.” Granny gathers Seth’s free hand in between hers.

My body tenses. Seth squeezes the hand he has planted on my thigh and applies small, circling movements. I will my muscles to relax.

“Don’t be absurd. We don’t have enough time for that tonight. Dinner will be served shortly,” Dad roars from across the room.

“Nonsense. Go right ahead, honey,” Granny says, waving a disdainful hand at Dad.

“Well, here goes.” Seth flashes his white teeth at Granny. He repositions himself. His hand, now on my back, strokes me soothingly.

“Not long ago I sat on the balcony of my apartment, bored and lonely, watching a full moon crawling across the twilight sky.”

Where the hell is he going with this? My face is turned to Seth, but from my peripheral view, I see Dad rolling his eyes. Mom discreetly elbows him. I shift my weight, my discomfort growing rapidly to unbearable proportions.

“Aww, that’s such a romantic depiction.” Granny clutches Seth’s hand to her chest. “Go on, hon.”

“The night was only a child, and the stars were yet to make an appearance, when I had this thought—almost like an actual voice, loud and clear in my head. It said: tonight, you must go to Neptune. The dance club at the hotel Constellation,” he explains.

“I obeyed the command. By the time I arrived at the hotel, stars burned brightly in the sky. I thought to myself: something special is about to happen.” He looks down at me. With his gaze fixed on mine, he continues, “I entered the hotel and stood under a dome with beautiful artwork resembling Ursa Major. And that’s when it happened.” He pauses. His eyes darken. “In front of me, under the Constellation, shone the brightest star my eyes had ever seen.” He smiles, his eyes seem distant, dreamy.

I, too, am transported to that moment when we first laid eyes on each other.

At the time, I had felt the connection. However, to hear his account of the encounter had the effect of a fist gripping my heart and squeezing it tight. I’m so falling for this guy.

Our silence must have lasted longer than appropriate because Granny clears her throat and asks. “So, did you introduce yourself?”

Seth blinks and shifts his gaze to Granny. “Oh, no. Lottie here didn’t . . . how can I say without sounding self-deprecating? See, the thing is, she didn’t seem that interes—”

The ring of Dad’s cell phone interrupts Seth.

Dad glances at the device and says wryly, “Fascinating stuff, but I must answer this call.”

After Dad leaves the room, Seth continues the story of when we met. He skillfully tells how he bought me a drink and how we danced the night away. All the while, he emitted that it had happened just a few days prior. According to him, we have been dating for a few months and with my recent visit to Vegas, we decided to elope.

“We were both a little tipsy. But I had known since the moment I first saw Lottie, that she would be my wife.”

Granny sighs. “That is very romantic. And to see how happy you are together chases away the disappointment of not seeing my Lottie walking down the aisle.”

“I’m sorry, Granny. I know how much you wanted me to have a big wedding.”

“Nonsense. I’m an old fool. A romantic dreamer. You kids have new ways of doing things. It’s all right, as long as you make each other happy,” she says.

“Perhaps we can have an intimate celebration. A few friends and family,” Mom says with a hopeful tone.

An unsettling understanding of the ramification of my hasty marriage seeps through my mind. It encompasses more than just Seth and me. It significantly affects my family. “Sure, Mom. We can talk about it later.” How can I convince Seth to be part of this? According to our agreement, we would simply get to know each other. Nothing more. If things keep on getting more complicated, he’ll want out. I can’t blame him for it.

“That would be awesome,” Seth says, squeezing my waist. He’s a fantastic actor.

“Is dinner ready yet?” Dad’s voice thunders as he enters the room. “I’ve got my appetite back,” he adds with a sneer.

We proceed to the dining room. For the next hour, Dad engages in pleasant conversation with us. To my dismay, he includes Seth, looking him in the eyes, asking questions about his business. Whatever news he got, changed his mood for the best.

My shoulders relax, and I venture a few jokes. But Seth is the main attraction. At the end of dinner, we are all laughing at Seth’s witty and funny remarks. Including Dad. Just the way Seth had predicted, he charmed my family.

“How about we go to the back patio for some cocktails?” Mom says, standing up.

“Well, I do believe bonding time with this young man is in order. Seth, would you like a cigar?” Dad asks.

Seth’s eyes narrow slightly, but he flashes a smile at Dad and says, “Of course.”

“I’m going to bed. I’m beat,” I say.

“I’ll join you soon, baby.” Seth pecks a chaste kiss on my cheek. He follows Dad to the office.

Despite Dad’s ecstatic mood, I have a pang of apprehension. What if Seth tells Dad we just met. God no, Dad would go ballistic.

I say goodnight and retire to my room.

I swing the French doors open. A breeze blows the white curtains and brings the smell of the sea inside the room.

I resist the desire to listen to music. The sound of waves crashing on the shore is hypnotic. I do not intend to fall asleep, but my lids get heavier. My body melts in the bed. All the stress, fear, and worry of the past week leaves me.

And I drift into a peaceful sleep.

Seth

“PLEASE HAVE A SEAT,
” Mr. Cahan offers with a smile that is obviously forged.

I sit across from him. He flips a box open, pulls a cigar out, and offers me one. “Cuban. Best quality money can buy.”

“No, thank you. I quit smoking years ago.”

His eyes fix on the cigar. He rolls it between his fingers, weighs it in his hand before he speaks again. “Not a whole lot of people surprise me.” He talks slowly, calmly, almost as if speaking with someone mentally challenged. Patronizing bastard.

“But you, young man, you surprise me.” Meticulously, he clips the end of the cigar. “Since the day Charlotte told me about this ridiculous wedding business, I have been puzzled by how my smart and sensible daughter has done such an atrocity.” He flicks the lighter, lighting the end of the cigar. His lips purse around it, and he blows big puffs of white smoke in my face. I guess politeness doesn’t always precede money and breeding.

“Cognac?” he asks.

“Yes, please.”

With the cigar clutched in between his teeth, he walks to a cabinet and retrieves a bottle of cognac and two tumblers.

I have learned from Luna and life lessons to be a perceptive person. I’m a master of body language. Mr. Cahan is playing a game. He poorly pretends to be nice. His patronizing voice, the subtle glint in his eyes, all hint he isn’t genuine. It works together to tell me: “Hey, I don’t like you. I’m just pretending here.” He’s faking a sentiment he doesn’t have, and he wants me to know he is pretending without saying it plainly.