Page 63 of Beauty Beneath the Sorrow
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Carter is standing at my side. “My grandma used to take me here when I was a kid.”
“Yes.” I turn to him, dragging my eyes across his dark features. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
His eyes bounce between the organized chaos of the waterfall and mine. “The food is great, too,” he says in a low voice, gesturing toward the small table up against the window. He pulls out my chair.
I take my seat. After the server took our drink order, I turned back to Carter. “You came here with your grandma?”
He nods. “I did.”
“For a vacation?”
“Sort of.” His posture falls slightly. “My mom was serving time in prison up here.”
I squeeze my eyes together, not expecting him to say that. He’s mentioned briefly that his grandparents raised him, but I guess it never occurred to me to ask where his parents were.How could I not have asked?
“That must have been hard for you.”
“It was,” he says, but then he smiles. “But my grandparents were wonderful. I had a good childhood because of them.”
And there’s that killer smile again.
He takes a sip from one of the two souvenir coffee mugs placed on the table and continues, “We would make a vacation out of coming to Seattle. My grandparents would take me to the zoo, we’d ride the ferry, and then when I got older, we’d go hiking.”
“It’s amazing how your grandparents turned such a hard situation into a pleasant one for you.”
“They did.”
I wet my lips, rewording my following phrase a few times before letting the words leave my mouth. “Where is your mom now? If you don’t mind me asking?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
I start biting the nail on my index finger. I take his short response as a clue that he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, which is fine. I have my own trauma, and I hate the fact that itstill lives inside me. I’m reluctant to breathe more life into it by verbalizing any details and something I’ve kept secret for almost ten years.
“It’s alright,” he reassures me, sensing my discomfort. “You don’t have to be uncomfortable asking me these things, Lina. I like talking to you.”
I nod bashfully. “Okay.”
Carter and I finish up breakfast, chatting about his childhood and how close he was with both his grandparents. He tells me he didn’t know his dad even though his parents were still together. Carter also made it clear that he’s had no desire to either. Every so often, I feel his leg touch mine under the table. Neither one of us moves away.
When it’s time to leave, we head toward our hotel near the airport. Taking the drive back into Seattle from Snoqualmie Falls, we both enjoy tracks from Stick Figure and Moby. Carter drops the car off at valet, then texts his connection that we’ve returned, and he can retrieve his car.
There’s an ease between us now, unlike before when we danced around natural urges. But why do I still feel unsatisfied? I want to touch and feel him again, especially after the morning we’ve had. How can we move on and pretend that last night didn’t happen? Maybe he’s not fully out of my system.
I fiddle with the key card in my hands, anxious about the last twelve hours coming to an end.
He walks me to my hotel door. “I’ll see you on the flight.”
I can’t say goodbye yet. My body craves more. I raise to my tippy toes, lean in, and bring my lips to his.
His hand slides up my cheek and grips my hair, elicitingsparks along my head’s nerve endings. “More?”
“One more time won’t hurt, will it?” I mumble into the deliciousness of his lips.
I feel the corner of his mouth curve upwards. “Absolutely not.”
Fuck. What are we doing?
Chapter Nineteen
