Page 24 of Beckon

Her words cause a lump to form in his throat. He’d done something right, but he was uncomfortable with compliments. Something else on the list of a million things he needed to work on about himself. That terrified him, she terrified him. She made him want to work on that list instead of just ball it up and slam dunk it in the trash.

Something told him the correct response was to say shewasbeautiful, instead it came out more like…

“You didn’t tell me your favorite TV PI yet?”

“Magnum is a close second, but I’m aSimon & Simongirl myself. Used to watch reruns with my dad.”

“That’s two, not one, but I’ll let it slide since it’s your game.”

“No game, television favorites are serious business, besides, how else can I get to know the real Chandler? I wasn’t about to just cantor up to you and ask for your darkest secret. You have to ease into that sort of thing. Like hi, what’s your favorite color, favorite boy band, first crush, and oh, can you expose a piece of your heart to me while you’re at it?”

Chandler wanted to tell her that she had exposed more of her heart to him in the limited time they’d spent together than most people had in years. That’s when it hit him. She didn’t see it as exposure because she volunteered it. It wasn’t pumped out of her, it was information freely given. Exposure without the obvious power exchange.

In his world information was power, to Tami it was bonding. He didn’t know if he could do it. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“Well, I’ve always been partial to blue, I am leaning more toward a jade green as of late. Boyz II Men, hands down. Stephanie Walters, third grade. She hated me, kicked me in the shin anytime she passed me in the hall, but I was absolutely smitten.”

He found that he liked sharing little things he hadn’t thought of before.

“My heart is not a good place, but there’s a part of it that will belong to my friend Wilson. I watched him die and that is something that bound my soul. It was my fault he was killed.”

It wasn’t his darkest secret, but he spilled it anyway. There had been zero intention to share things like that, but it just came falling out of his mouth.

He felt her hand at his knee. She was leaned over in the saddle just to touch him. But it didn’t feel like pity, it felt like something else entirely.

8

TAMITHA

SteeringButterscotch as close to Betty as possible, Tami leaned over, and laid her hand gently at his knee. She needed that connection to him.

Was this what a heart attack felt like?

The pain radiating across her chest, the fine sheen of sweat coating her palms. It was no elephant sitting on her chest, but close to it. It was a pain she remembered, a level of it anyway. One of loss.

It wasn’t just empathy for Chandler’s pain, it radiated out of his rich mahogany-brown eyes. She was feeling his loss in a way she couldn’t explain.

Deep down. It was confusing. The guilt radiating off of him seemed out of proportion.

There is a lot more to that story than just a sentence or two. But she was grateful for what he’d gifted her, she would never presume to ask for more. Especially not from him. Chandler seemed like the type who shared little to nothing of himself. Beyond saying he wasn’t a good person that is.

What he failed to realize was how much he shared of himself without sharing. Sometimes when she looked at him, she saw dark shadows behind his eyes. But there were moments, moments when he lookedather and not through her. In those moments she saw the shadows recede and his soul flicker and shine through.

He wasn’t dead inside nor was his heart a bad place or any of those things he said about himself or pretended to be.

How could she know this about a man she’d ridden horses and played some Skee-Ball with? Because he was her. Chandler was the Tami who almost didn’t win her battle with loss and depression.

Chandler needed a homeless man to give him water or someone to catch his receipt. She pictured it clear as crystal. It was fluttering across the oil-stained parking lot, and he wasn’t chasing it. She had wondered if he even wanted to. But when he pulled his phone out and took a picture of her, she could see he did. He just didn’t know how to.

His vulnerability called to her. Tami did something totally out of character and so far from her comfort zone, she didn’t know if she could follow through until she’d already stood in the stirrups.

Chandler’s eyes never left hers as she removed her hat and leaned toward him, drinking in the sight of his full bottom lip. The top was thinner, she noted but still appealing. His cheeks look roughened with a five o’clock shadow and her palm itched to feel it. However, that was off the table. If she didn’t keep hold of the pommel, she’d never make it to those lips.

She watched his tongue dart out in anticipation, wetting his lip. It wasn’t anything she’d observed before. Kisses were kisses, a tactile experience, she never thought of the visual element.

When his eyes dropped to her mouth, her breath hitched. She couldn’t wait another second to taste him. When their lips met, neither moved. They were frozen together in a moment in time, as if on Polaroid instead of in reality.

Just when she thought she’d made a huge error in judgment and Chandler didn’t want her kiss, both his hands were on her cheeks, holding her to him.

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