Mayne Attraction: In The Spotlight (38 page)

By the time we made it back to the Jeep, I
was mentally and physically exhausted, falling asleep before we had
made it out of Yoho National Park. He woke me up with a kiss in the
hotel parking lot at Banff. I was disoriented, thinking maybe I’d
just had a scary dream, but his face on mine was proof
otherwise.

“It’s time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty. You
can finish your nap upstairs. Come on.”

I realized he was talking to me from my open
door. He pulled me out of the Jeep, steadying me, and then he held
me around the waist with one arm, similar to the other night, while
carrying our things with his other hand.

Just like on the trail, he took advantage of
standing still to kiss me, as the elevator doors began to close. I
was still so dazed and sleepy that I accepted this gladly, instead
of nervously, as I should have, considering who could be watching.
My conscience stung me belatedly over this, though it happened so
quickly that I probably couldn’t have avoided it in any case.

When we reached my door he used his copy of
my room key card to let us in, and once again he entered his room
through the adjoining door, leaving it wide open. I wasn’t about to
go near the bed at this point, coward that I was, so I quickly
retreated into the bathroom, filling the tub with hot water once
again.

This time I chose a bath bomb called ‘Waving
Not Drowning,’ though the reverse didn’t sound like a bad option
either. The packaging promised to relax and soothe my soul like a
field of lavender and suggested that I use it before bed to bring
on sweet dreams.

Speaking of bed, what was I going to do
about that? I was absolutely certain that Gray wasn’t going to be
following any set of rules in that regard, probably the
opposite—unless I was brave enough to lay them down myself. Since I
couldn’t remember ever having won an argument with him, and I had
absolutely no clue how I would explain what I wanted, I knew I’d
have my work cut out for me.

While I was thinking through that dilemma, a
new one presented itself in the form of a knock on the bathroom
door.

Really?

“Ellie, can I come in for a minute?”

But he didn’t wait for my answer as he
opened the door and let himself in. I sunk down in the water, until
everything below my chin was submerged, thankful for the cover that
‘Waving Not Drowning’ provided by clouding and coloring the water a
bluish purple tint.

He was polite—if that even applied, given
the situation—and did not look at me directly. Instead he faced the
mirror so I could see him while he talked to me.

“You were asleep so I didn’t get to ask you
what you wanted to do tonight. Do I need to make reservations
downstairs, or do you want to go out somewhere in town, or would
you rather have room service brought up?”

I didn’t feel like dressing up or going out,
but I was afraid of the third option for some reason. Being out of
the bedroom while discussing the ‘rules’ seemed like a better idea
to me.

“Let’s find a pub to eat at tonight,” I
suggested.

“Okay. Did you want to finish your nap after
your bath?”

He sounded far too hopeful.

“I’m kind of hungry. I’ll just finish up in
here and then maybe we can go eat?”

He seemed a little too disappointed now,
though his words tried to make it appear otherwise.

“That’s fine. Just come over when you’re
ready. I’m going to take a quick nap.”

But he didn’t leave. I noticed he was
looking at the basket of bath products. I wanted to dive under the
water completely as I realized which one of the bath bombs had
caught his eye. It was jasmine scented and mostly pink with a swirl
of purple and featured pink rice paper rose petals that would float
on the surface of the pink bathwater once the rest of it was
dissolved. But it was the name that was embarrassing me so
badly.

“Sex Bomb?”

He smiled rakishly and turned around to look
at me in the tub.

“Saving this one for later, are we?” he
asked as he held it up for me to see. “Which one are you using
now?”

I was trying to pretend he wasn’t there
anymore. He bent down to pick up the wrapper on the floor next to
the tub. He laughed out loud when he read it.

“Waving Not Drowning. Well, I certainly hope
so.”

Then he turned to the place on the counter
where the cream colored towels were neatly rolled and picked up two
of them, spreading out the bath mat floor towel in front of the
tub, placing the bath towels on a corner of it, touching the base
of the tub, where they would be easy for me to reach once I stepped
out.

“I’m hungry too. Please don’t take too
long.”

And then I was alone again.

We parked in the center of town and walked a
few blocks down the main strip looking for a pub, though I had a
feeling Gray knew exactly where we were heading. It was a pleasant
evening, still chilly enough at night to wear a jacket, though. I
liked that: wearing a jacket in June. Although I liked a warm day
at the beach as well as anyone, my preference was for weather in
the fifties. Rain or shine. I liked both.

As we waited for our meals in a cozy high
backed booth, which felt very private, I deliberated about which
unpleasant topic to address first. I decided that laying down the
rules when it came to bedtime was the priority.

“Gray, I need to…ask you about
something.”

I was already mortified and I had barely
begun.

“I’m new at this relationship thing, but I
was just wondering if you could … well, you know … tell me … your
intentions … you know … towards … me?”

There. I actually got it out.

Of course, my eyes were glued to the table
now. I didn’t have the strength to ask a question like that and
look him in the eyes while doing it.

He chuckled softly and reached across the
table, lifting my chin with his hand, forcing me to meet his
gaze.

“Let me ask you something. Whose idea was it
to stay virgins until you were married?”

“It was Ash’s idea. I never thought that far
ahead. I guess I’m an idiot.”

I laughed nervously at myself. He shook his
head in disagreement.

“I think the word you mean is innocent. I
love that about you. I’m in no hurry to change that, Ellie.”

He was very sincere, no hint of teasing.

“So you want to know my intentions? I guess
you can’t read my mind can you? That’s probably just as well.”

He smiled that rakish smile from the
bathroom.

“My intentions? Well, let’s see. I intend to
marry you, when you’re ready for that. I intend to have fantastic
adventures in far away places with you. I intend to be entertained
by your amazing sense of humor. I intend to feel smug about having
the most beautiful wife on Earth. I intend to be proud of the
incredibly capable and loving mother of my children. And I intend
to love you the only way I know how—forever.”

The big splashes of tears bouncing off the
table in front of me were, as always, a surprise. They seemed out
of place considering the huge smile on my face. That had to be the
most romantic thing I’d ever heard. It sounded like a scene from a
movie; a scene that I would replay a thousand times because I loved
it and wished someone in real life would say those things to
me.

As I was reflecting on his beautiful words
he reached over to take my left hand, turning the ring this way and
that. It was slightly loose, but not dangerously so. I was a fool
if I thought I’d be size four forever. It was nice to have some
room to grow, though I would probably take to wearing the ring on
my right hand for a while since it fit more securely on that
side.

“Given that the stone here already belonged
to you, I’m not sure if this ring qualifies as a proper engagement
ring. I could make you something else…if you’d like.”

He was looking at the ring while he
spoke.

I sniffed and used the napkin in my free
hand to dry my face. “I wouldn’t waste your time on that.”

Besides, that finger is maxed out on parking
space as it is...

“You know, there’s no reward for good
intentions. I need you to agree to marry me before I can make good
on any of those.”

He smiled holding my eyes, searching my
expression.

At that moment the scopophobic sensation,
which I had completely lost track of, resurfaced, weighing heavily
on my neck. My eyes followed the unseen source to its origin. At a
window seat, close to the door, over Gray’s shoulder, sat Ash,
facing me, staring at me, a depth of emotion and turmoil in his
eyes I had never seen before, even that fateful day at
Tinseltown.

Had he heard our conversation? Or was he
reacting to the tears on my face? The tears accompanied by a joyful
smile that would be difficult to misinterpret, especially as the
man sitting with me played absentmindedly with a new ring on my
left hand. I felt ill. I felt horrible and evil and mean. I looked
away and back down at our hands. Gray had just asked me to marry
him and I had to get my face together before I mortally wounded
him, too.

Stalling for time I said, “Can you ask me
this again, when I’m not such a mess? In a more memorable place,
instead of over a cheeseburger?”

I laughed a short laugh, but it sounded off,
and I knew it.

Gray had seen the turn of my countenance as
it played out, and then combined with my request, he too must have
sensed the watching eyes. He leaned out of the booth to look behind
towards the direction of the windows and the door. The table was
empty.

Chapter 31
–
Scrapbook

I already missed the warmth and comfort of
my king size bed. As I dawdled under the covers, enjoying the
novelty of a morning to sleep in, I contemplated my fascination
with contrasts, and how fully such matters could be explored and
evaluated during the coming week while camping. We had just spent
our last night at The Fairmont Banff Springs for the next three
nights, though we did not check out because apparently the expense
account Gray was working from funded high end hotel rooms whether
they were being used or not. In this instance they would serve as
very expensive closets for our things while we went
backpacking.

I was starting to become anxious over the
fact that Ash seemed to have disappeared. I knew I should call or
text him, but I was having trouble figuring out how to begin, and
even more trouble with how a conversation with him should end.

So I kept procrastinating, hoping that he
would contact me—as if somehow that would make it easier for me—but
he didn’t. In fact, when I heard noises from next door and peeked
out into the hall, I found that people with two small children and
loads of luggage were moving in. My heart sank at the realization
of what that might mean. Had he given up on me so quickly? Without
even talking to me about it first? Would he really just walk away,
even after we were supposed to be engaged as of two days ago? If
that was the case, then he definitely had made it easy for me. He
was certainly honorable enough for that. But my heart ached for
him. I tried to put myself in his position, viewing the situation
from his perspective while turning the ring he had given me back
and forth in the morning light, streaming in a warm ray through the
glass. It felt like I was sinking in emotional quicksand.
Contemplating the contrast in his expression when he had given me
the ring as opposed to the look in his eyes the evening before at
the pub brought tears to my own.

Gray came in on me through the unlocked
adjoining door just as I had sunk to my lowest point. He was very
sweet, opting not to ask me questions I wouldn’t be able to answer
any way. In fact, he didn’t say anything, he just led me from where
I was standing in front of the dresser over to the couch and sat me
down on the edge, sitting close by me with one arm around my
shoulder and the other holding my hand. He had picked up a box of
tissues along the way and they were now conveniently resting on my
lap.

After I had literally blown through what was
left in the tissue box I began to settle and smooth out. Then I
realized I still had the aquamarine in my hand and that Gray was
looking at it with me. I was shocked at my reckless carelessness.
But then I decided that maybe it was for the best. Why should I
hide anything from him? Hiding things from each other is how we
found ourselves in this position in the first place.

When I felt like I had a voice again, I
began.

“I imagine you’re wondering how I came to
have this, aren’t you?”

I smiled weakly. His eyes, which had been
gazing at the ring, turned up to gaze into mine. His expression was
unreadable.

“I saw it in a jewelry store window. Huh. I
guess that would have been about this time last year. It was the
most beautiful ring I had ever seen. I wanted it. I stood there
looking at it for a very long time, fantasizing about what it would
be like to wear it on my hand. Then, not too long ago, Ash
surprised me with it when I agreed to marry him. I never dreamed it
had a sister.”

I was looking at the ring while I spoke. I
couldn’t bear to look at Gray, too fearful of his reaction, and
worried it might spark a whole new and embarrassing episode of
copious lacrimony (uncontrollable crying).

I put the aquamarine on the third finger of
my right hand. It was slightly tight, but it fit. Then I bent my
fingers and pressed the ends of my knuckles from each hand together
comparing the rings as they sat side by side. They were deep shades
of pink and green, with opposite proportions of blue: the bixbite
just a hint, and the aquamarine more blue than green, giving them
each their own rare and resplendent coloring.

Since I had decided to be open, I wanted to
give Gray that opportunity as well.