Chapter Ten
Rick
The beeping of the snowplow wakes me. It’s too early, too soon. I didn’t expect it until later today, and in denial, I draw Devyn closer. There isn’t a millimeter of space between us, but that doesn’t mean I don’t try. She’s warm and naked in my arms, our legs tangled under the blankets.
She’s mine, for the next couple of hours.
Am I a selfish bastard for wanting this for the rest of my life?
“Hmm,” she mumbles against my arm, and I’m hard in an instant.
I nudge her onto her back and nestle my hips between her thighs. Her eyes blink open as I gently slide into her, and she sucks in a breath, lifting her hips. I go slow. I know she’s tender after a long night of making love. She let me have her over and over again. She knew I was trying to block out this day, what was coming, and I was rough with her.
Giving her all my weight, I nuzzle her neck as she plays with my hair.
“Good morning,” she says, her lips tickling my ear.
“It’s morning, but it’s not good. The snowplow’s outside.”
I ease out of her tight body and gently slide back in, taking my time, letting it build. I bet the plows have been at it most of the night, and there’s no reason for her to wait. She’ll be gone before lunchtime.
Reaching between our bodies, I find her clit and help her come with me. She squeezes my cock as she orgasms, mewling into my ear. It pushes me over the edge, and I come, too. It’s incredible I have anything left to shoot inside her, but I fill her again, my small claim of her body that won’t last nearly as long as I want it to.
She indulges my mood and holds me, slicking her fingers up and down my sweaty back.
“I don’t know why you’re acting like you’ll never see me again,” she says, kissing my cheek, down my jaw to my neck. “Or is that what you want? Are you trying to figure out how to say goodbye? You don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings, Rick. You didn’t want me here.”
I lift up onto my forearms and smooth the hair away from her face. I can see her clearly, though the small window cut into the side of the lighthouse doesn’t offer any light. It’s early enough it’s still dark outside. The light from the kitchen stove is weak, but through the shadows I devour the delicate curves of her face.
The thought of telling her goodbye for only a few days threatens to break me. I can’t imagine if later, in a few hours, I would be telling her goodbye for good. I can’t think of it.
“I’ve known you for three days.” I stop and clear my throat. “It wouldn’t be fair to ask you for the rest of them.”
She kisses me, slow and gentle, brushing her fingers over my face, her fingertips catching my scar. “Then it’s a good thing I know life isn’t fair. Rick, things are going to be okay.”
I don’t know how she can say that unless she knows something I don’t. She’s leaving, and as soon as she leaves our happy bubble, she’ll forget me.
“Let’s get up. If the roads are clear, I need to get going.”
Reluctantly, I release her, sliding out of her in a warm gush. I sit on the edge of the bed, not knowing what to do first. I go through the steps of my morning ritual. Pull on some clothes, make coffee. But I can’t move.
Devyn leans into me, presses her forehead to my temple. “It’s going to be okay,” she repeats.
“I was barely hanging on when you pulled into my driveway. What am I supposed to do after you leave?” I’m bitter. I found something in her arms, and she’s going to yank it away.
“What you should have been doing,” she says, but I don’t know what that means.
She bounces out of bed and a few moments later the water in the shower turns on. My feet dragging, I dress, fill the coffeemaker with grounds and water. She’ll be puttering around, packing, getting ready for the drive, and I don’t want to be around while she does that.
After layering up, I step outside and assess the damage of seventy-two hours of heavy snow.
The sky is lightening, the clouds finally gone revealing stars against a hazy purple and pink.
The snowplow operator knows where to push the snow, and luckily, with its bright lights, he saw Devyn’s car and didn’t block her in. In fact, he cleared behind it and on both sides, giving her all the space she needs to turn around to head for the road. I suppose it would have been too much to ask for him to push her car off the cliff and into the lake. Knowing Devyn, that wouldn’t keep her here.
I go back into the lighthouse’s foyer and search Devyn’s coat pockets for her keys. My truck’s stored in the garage, and I find my ice scraper and clean off her car. When I can open the driver’s side door, I start it, the engine turning over and settling into a smooth purr. She doesn’t have much gas, and she’ll need to fill up before heading out of Old Harbor, but she’ll appreciate sitting in a warm car on her way to town.
I do a bit more shoveling, as much as my back can withstand. I’ll have plenty to keep me busy in the next few days. My doctor’s appointments, running to town for groceries. Laundry. It will be nice to have the lighthouse to myself again. I’ve missed the seclusion.