"Well, you're missing it all then," he said, inching toward me again. "There's nothing to be afraid of," he coaxed, bringing his hand back to my waist.
"Haven't you at least been kissed like that before?" he asked. His fingers started moving up my side. I shook my head. "Really?" He brought his hand firmly to the side of my breast. "Just relax," he said. "You don't want to be the only girl your age at Emerson Peabody who's never been kissed and touched like this, do you? I'll do it slowly, okay?" he said, barely inching forward over the top of my breast.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Once again he pressed his lips to mine.
"That's it. Easy," he said. "See." The tips of his fingers surrounded a button on my blouse. I felt it open and then felt his fingers against my skin, moving like a thick spider in and under my bra. When the tips of his fingers found my nipple, I felt a surge of excitement that took my breath away.
"No," I said pulling back again. My heart was pounding so hard, I was sure he could hear it. "I . . . we'd better start back," I said. "I've got to help Momma with dinner."
"What? Help your mother with dinner? You're kidding. We just got here." He stared at me a moment. "You don't have some other boyfriend already, do you?"
"Oh, no!" I said, nearly jumping out of my seat.
He laughed and traced my collarbone with the tip of his forefinger. I felt his hot breath on my cheek. "Will you come back here with me one night?"
"Yes," I said with abandon. He was so handsome, and despite my fears, his touch had made my stomach feel like butterflies were flying around in it.
"Okay, let you slip out of my hands this time then," he said and laughed. "You're really cute, you know." He leaned over and kissed me quickly again. Then he lowered his eyes to my opened blouse and quickly buttoned it.
"Actually, I'm glad you're shy, Dawn."
"You are?" I thought he would hate me because I wasn't as sophisticated as most of the girls he knew at Emerson Peabody.
"Sure. So many girls are know-it-alls these days. There's nothing fresh and honest about that. Not like there is about you. I wait to be the one who teaches you things, makes you feel things you've never felt before. Will you let me? Will you?" he pleaded with those soft blue eyes.
"Yes," I said. I wanted to learn new things and feel new things and be just as grownup and sophisticated as the girls he knew at Emerson Peabody.
"Good. Now, don't bring any other boys up here behind my back," he added.
"What? I wouldn't."
He laughed and got back behind the steering wheel. "You're definitely something else, Dawn. Something good," he added.
I gave him the directions to take me home and finished buttoning my blouse.
"Our section of town isn't very nice," I said, preparing him. "But we're only living there until Daddy can find something better."
"Yeah, well," he said, looking at the houses along the streets in my neighborhood, "for your sake I hope that's not much longer. Don't you have any family here?" he asked.
"No. Our family is all in Georgia, on farms," I replied. "But we haven't seen them for a while because we've been traveling a lot."
"I've taken trips here and there," he said, "but summers, when most of the other kids go off to Europe or to other parts of the country, I have to remain in Cutler's Cove and help with our hotel," he said, smirking unhappily. He turned to me.
"It's expected that someday I'll be the one to take it over and run it."
"How wonderful, Philip."
He shrugged.
"It's been in our family for generations. It was started as just an inn way back when there were whalers and fishermen from everywhere. We've got paintings and all sorts of antiques in the attic of the hotel, things that belonged to my great-great-grandfather. Our family's just about the most important one in town, founding fathers."
"It must be wonderful to have all of that family heritage," I said. He caught the note of longing in my voice.
"What were your ancestors like?"
What would I tell him? Could I tell him the truth—that I hadn't ever seen my grandparents, much less known what they were like? And how could I explain never seeing or knowing or ever hearing from any cousins, uncles, or aunts?
"They were . . . farmers. We used to have a big farm with cows and chickens and acres and acres," I said, but I looked out my window when I said it. "I remember riding on the hay wagon when I was just a little girl, sitting up front with my grandfather, who held me in his arm while he held on to the reins. Jimmy would be in the hay, looking up at the sky. My grandfather smoked a corncob pipe and played the harmonica."