Bondi Beach (6 page)

One
afternoon, she and I lunched together at my favorite Lebanese restaurant. By then, we had come to know one another well enough to talk about life, love, and what makes relationships work. We discussed the importance of shared values, patience, and peace. Then, she said something that I’ve never forgotten – “There is no greater aphrodisiac than a shared sense of purpose."

I’d thought of that through the years, and I had to agree with her. I shared the perspective that love works best when two
people are focused not only on one another but on their purposes in life… and when those purposes are well aligned.

While this wa
s not a time in my life that I wanted to think of aphrodisiacs, I was grateful for having met someone who reminded me of the importance of purpose and the role that it can play in relationships of all kinds. After all, it was one of the reasons why I’d come to Australia in the first place – to rediscover my own sense of purpose so that I felt directed enough to move on.

As far as Martin was concerned,
I tried to push any interest in him from my mind. After all, I had already imposed on him, and it would soon be time for me to leave.

Eventually, we
returned to our beach blanket, packed up our picnic, and made our way back to the house where I showered and changed. We’d somehow wiled away another entire day, and it had been lovely.

As evening
approached, we watched another movie –
Moulin Rouge
this time – and played a game of Scrabble. He won with some Australian terms that I’d never heard before. I teased that he’d cheated, but he insisted that he had the home court advantage. With all that he had done for me over the past two weeks, I would have let him win anyway – home court advantage or not.

*****

Finally, it was time for bed. Although my dizziness was nearly gone, having been very protective for the past two weeks, Martin made sure that I got into bed safely before going to take a shower in his own bathroom. While I was alone, I lay in bed and wondered what I would do next now that I was free to leave Sydney. A few weeks still remained before I would return home. Where would I go? I certainly couldn’t squeeze in a drive around the entire continent. Besides, I’d already canceled the rental car and wouldn’t rent one until I had a firm plan in mind.

A
fter a short while, Martin returned wearing dark grey boxers and a grey t-shirt. He climbed into his side of the bed and turned out the light. We lay in silence for a few minutes until our eyes adjusted to the darkness. Staring at the ceiling, I listened to him breathe. I had done that with Jack years before – only I had listened for his breath just to be sure that he hadn’t passed away in his sleep.

“
You’re thinking of leaving, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.

I looked over at him
. “In a few days. I have less than a month to see all of Australia, and I’m trying to figure out where to go.”

He rolled over to face me
and ran the back of his hand down my cheek. Softly, he said, “Eva, I don’t want you to leave.”

For the first time in years, I felt h
eat move through my body. I couldn’t say anything but took his hand in mine and held it against my cheek, closing my eyes. Moving closer to me, he kissed me lightly on the lips, and I opened my eyes again. As we looked at one another, I felt tears run down my cheeks and into my ears. I covered my face with my hands and began to cry silently.

H
e put one arm under my shoulders and pulled me toward him until my face was buried in his chest and his arms were wrapped around me. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, his breath warm on my neck.

I didn’t know exactly why I was crying except that I’d have to leave in a few days, I
had no idea where I was going, it had been a difficult two weeks, and I was far from home. Oh, yeah – and I was falling in love with a man whom I’d probably never see again. The idea of losing someone that I cared for brought up a lot of familiar emotions around grief and loss.

Martin
kissed me on the forehead. “I don’t want to hurt you, Eva. Have I done something wrong?”

“No,” I
shook my head and laughed a little. I pulled back enough to look at him, his arms still encircling me. “You’ve done everything right.” I hesitated, looking deeply into his beautiful green eyes. “I don’t want to leave you, either.”

An expression, nearly unreadable, flitted across his face. “You don’t have to leave,” he whispered. “Stay here with me.”

Martin propped himself up on one elbow. With his other hand, he reached over and wiped away my tears. Running a finger along my jaw, he leaned in to kiss me gently, his lips barely brushing mine. I could feel his heart beating against my chest. It had been a long time since I had been close enough to a man to feel his heartbeat.

Wanting to be closer to him,
I slid my hands beneath his shirt. He stopped long enough to take it off before returning to kiss me more deeply. I ran my hands over his chest and stomach. He was ripped, and I could feel every muscle.

Moving
his finger gently below my right eye, he looked at me and repeated, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“
You won’t.” I reached toward the hem of my nightgown and lifted the fabric up over my hips and torso. Sitting up, Martin helped me to lift it off over my head, being careful not to pull it across my face.

I shivered
as he lay back down beside me. “Are you cold?”

I nodded nervously.
“A little.”

He ran his warm hands down my body. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

He wrapped his arms around me, and we kissed again, more deeply this time. Surrounded by his warmth, I relaxed into him. He kissed my neck and shoulders before working his way across my breasts and down my body. My breathing became ragged, and I pulled him up by the shoulders. Sliding up over me, he covered my body with his warmth and kissed me again.

When I reac
hed down and gently tugged at the waistband on his boxers, he smiled sweetly before pushing himself up by his hands and getting out of bed. Covering me with the sheet, he stood up and watched me watching him as he slid his boxers down his legs and tossed them onto the recliner. The moonlight fell over his naked body, and he was beautiful. Every part of him.

Turning
back the sheet, Martin climbed into bed and very gently lay down over me. Holding himself up on both elbows, he looked into me for a long moment. His eyes were large and loving. “Are you alright?” he finally asked.

Hungry for his kiss, I nodded. “Yes,” I whispered breathlessly.

As he closed his eyes and leaned down to kiss me, I reached down and stroked him. He inhaled quickly, and his kiss was responsive, becoming deeper and hungrier. His hands ran cautiously over my body as his arousal increased.

This was all coming as a surprise.
With Jack’s illness, I hadn’t been with a man for years and had forgotten what it felt like to be connected to another. However, I wasn’t looking to Martin to fill some existential void in my soul. I would never have used him like that.

What was happening with Martin was different. He was different. What was happening, I thought as his tongue moved in my mouth and his finger slipped inside of me, was that I was falling in love
with him. I felt absolutely desperate for him.

“I want you inside of me
,” I whispered.

Without saying a word, he somehow managed to continue
kissing me while reaching into the nightstand for an old condom. I squeezed my eyes shut as he eased himself into me slowly. Propped up on his elbows, he held his body above mine as we continued to kiss, his tongue in my mouth or mine in his. I wrapped my arms around him and held him as closely as I could. His face and chest glistened in the moonlight, and I could feel his heart race.

He rocked
into me deeply, and I whimpered. Pulling back and slowing down, he looked down at me, his eyes searching mine, a look of concern on his face. “Am I hurting you?”

“No. Please. Don’t stop,” I whispered to him.

His face relaxed, and he lowered himself back down, sliding his tongue back into my mouth and escalating the tension that both of us felt. I held him against me as he continued to move until relief tore through both of us, and he lay back down and relaxed on his side.

As our heartbeats slowed, Martin kissed
my face and pulled me into his arms. “I don’t want to let you go,” he whispered.

I
rolled over toward him and ran my hand along his damp chest, resting it over his heart. “Then don’t,” I said softly.

Chapter 12

JANUARY 20

I woke up early the next morning and watched Martin sleep for a while, studying him without feeling self-conscious. He was handsome but not in a rugged way like my husband Jack had been. He had a boyish youthfulness about him – sunbleached brown hair, beautiful tanned skin, and eyebrows that arched in just the right place. His nose was handsome and straight. He had a smile that was perfect as much for its kindness as for its impeccable line of white teeth. He was 36, eight years my junior. I watched him for a few more minutes before closing my eyes again. Finally, fatigue overtook me, and I drifted off.

By the time I awoke, again, Martin
was walking into the room. “Good morning,” he smiled warmly when I opened my eyes.

I smiled.
“Morning.”

He placed two mugs of mint tea on the bedside table. “Thank you,” I said,
picking one up and taking a couple of sips.

“
You’re welcome. How did you sleep?”

Suddenly, I felt a little shy
. “Nicely.”

He
chuckled, which made me even more self-conscious. “Nicely?”

“
Yes,” I smiled.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he smiled as he
sat down on the bed near me.

Slowly
, I shook my head and looked up into his eyes. He was watching me closely, and his expression was warm.

“I think you’re amazing,” I said softly.

With that, he leaned forward and kissed my cheek and brushed the hair away from my face. Resting his forehead against mine, he closed his eyes. “I hope I didn’t move too quickly last night.”

I hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words
. “It’s not something I’d expected… but I don’t regret it.”

He pulled back a
little. With his brows furrowing, his eyes searched mine. “I hope not.”

“Not unless
….” I began.

H
e eyed me curiously.

I was almost sorry that I had said anything, but I had to be honest.
“Not unless it didn’t mean anything to you.”

Martin
’s response was unexpected. It seemed as though I had injured him, and he shook his head a little. “It meant a lot.” He took my hand in his and looked down for a moment, collecting his thoughts. When he looked back up at me, he said, “I realize we’ve only known each other for just over two weeks. But it’s been a pretty intense two weeks. We’ve spent a fair amount of time together.” Martin hesitated for a moment. “Eva, I don’t want to scare you off, but... I’m falling in love with you. I want to take this and see where it goes. If you leave without knowing that, I’m afraid that I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

A tear slid down my cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb.

Looking at me, he said, “I know it might sound crazy, and I know that long-distance relationships aren’t ideal. But this wasn’t a one-time thing for me. I don’t do this easily. I haven’t been with a woman since before I left Melanie.”

“I’m sorry
,” I said, shaking my head and looking into his eyes. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just needed to be sure.”

He nodded
, a little subdued. “I understand.”

I
took in a deep breath and closed my eyes, still shaking my head. “I’m so sorry.”

He
laid his hand on the back of my neck. “It’s okay,” he said reassuringly.

“How do we do this?”
I whispered, opening my eyes and looking into him again. I could get lost in his eyes forever.

Furrowing his brows, he asked,
“Is this what you want?”

I
nodded and looked at him, feeling simultaneously excited and confused. “Yes, I think so. I mean… I feel the same way you do. I just don’t know how to be together while we’re living in two different countries.”

He stroked my cheek with his hand, which I reached up and held.
He said, “I don’t want to go too far here, but let’s assume that everything works out between us. I can do my job from just about anywhere and could see you in the States. You could visit me whenever it works. If we have to go abroad, we could try to coordinate our travel so that we can be together.”

A
smile spread across my lips.

He stopped.
“What is it?”

“Maybe this is why
I never made plans past Sydney.”

“I’ll get you out of Sydney,” he
laughed, pulling me close to him, kissing me, and making love to me all over again.

*****

It wasn’t simply that I’d been alone and somewhat reclusive for a couple of years in my North Carolina retreat. I had avoided dating and had begun to believe that I would be alone for the rest of my life. I never thought that I would meet another man as good as my husband had been. I couldn’t bear the thought of being with the wrong man, someone who was less.

Jack had been from a small Vermont town
. He was a rugged and gentle man, one who would join his buddies on snowy nights to patrol some of the worst patches of road to help drivers who had become stranded or wrecked. On more than a few instances, he had dressed up as Santa and visited kids at a nearby orphanage on Christmas. He was just that kind of guy – strong, thoughtful, and loving.

Martin felt strangely familiar as
I sensed some of the same selfless qualities in him. Both men were generous and kind and shared a deep desire to help and protect others, and those were qualities that I truly admired and found highly attractive.

Certainly, Martin was unlike Jack in other ways
. For example, he was more optimistic and lighthearted and seemed to be more emotionally available and vulnerable. Now that the worst was over and I was healing, he had started to relax and have fun in a pure and unhindered way.

Other qualities – his boyish good looks and the fact that he was younger
than I – put me in new territory. It was still too early to say for sure, but everything I’d seen in him thus far made me want to learn more about who he was and whether we would be good for one another. There was something that was different about him, and, whatever it was, it made me happy.