Part of me basks in his lavish praise, and I've begun to silence the inner voice that tells me this is wrong. Why should I question what I like? Why should I question who he is? He told me a few days ago he no longer thinks I'm guilty, and that means so much to me.
I don't know what the future holds for us, and I know that we have mountains to climb and valleys to cross before we have any type of peace, but I also know that something’s growing between us.
I never suspected that I, Vivia Montavio, beneficiary to the Montavio throne and under the rule of my merciless, hard-hearted brothers and family, would ever consider falling for someone. I've never even entertained the thought of having any real feelings for another person. It seemed so outside the realm of possibility, it was as relatable and attainable as a Disney movie. I no sooner imagined myself falling in love than I imagined myself flying a jet solo over the Grand Canyon. Things like that don't happen to women like me.
Why would I change the course of things now?
"Hey, so, we don't happen to have any razors, do we?"
He doesn’t respond at first, as if thinking over his response. Finally, when he answers, I know why.
"We do. I hid them, because I didn't want you to have access to anything that could be used as a weapon. But you've behaved yourself.” His eyes come to mine as he says this, and I'm not sure if I imagine the lewd, lust-filled look, or if it's part of my imagination.
"Why don’t you come with me, I'll fish, you can have a swim and shave down by the beach."
“The beach?” I haven’t ventured far outside this cabin. I knew we were near the water but assumed it was far below a cliff or something.
"Of course," he says gruffly. “We're on the Narragansett Bay. It overlooks the ocean. And we have a private beach here all to ourselves. It's nothing fancy, it's really small, but you're allowed to go with me."
Every time he’s gone fishing, I haven't joined him. He’s cuffed me before he left, and I was perfectly fine staying behind so I didn’t have to see him spearing a little fish on a hook.
“I can’t shave with salt water, though, it’ll sting like crazy.”
“There’s fresh water nearby.”
Alrighty then.
I gather my supplies when he shows me where the razors are. For crying out loud, I had no idea we had these things. Lady’s shaving cream, a disposable package of five-blade women's razors, several soft washcloths. My God I am dying for a good shave.
I tuck the things into my pockets, put my shoes on, and follow him with all his fishing gear down to the beach.
It's early morning, the sun barely peeking over the horizon, but it's already warm. Yesterday, it was so warm it felt like summer, and today is starting to look similar. Locusts sizzle in the background, warning us of a warm day ahead.
"Are you sure this is a good time of day to fish?"
"It's always best if you can come earlier in the day or late in the day, but there are no other fishermen for miles. No competition. And with the way the sunlight reflects on the water, this particular cove is shuttered in darkness, and the fish like to gather here."
I think it over. If he's fishing… that means he's going to bring smelly, scaly fish back to the cabin, and he’ll have to… clean them and… things like that.
"This really is an excellent time for me to become a vegetarian."
He stares at me a full second before he bursts out laughing, his laughter full-hearted and resonant. When he breaks the laugh off his eyes smolder. It's rare that he laughs out loud like this, and a part of me feels very pleased.
I can't help myself, as a ripple of amusement makes me giggle. "What's so funny?"
"You try to be so brave,"he says as we walk toward the steep bank that takes us to the ocean’s edge. I've walked with him this way before, but we never went as far as the ocean.
It's beautiful here. The wind rustles through the leaves, and there's a slight hum of insects in the underbrush, but they don't bother me. It's like background noise in an isolated land, unadulterated or unpolluted with raucous sound or human interaction. Nature’s symphony. The screech of a gull overhead, the fluttering of a flock of birds as they soar skyward, the distant tap of a woodpecker on a tree, and growing closer now, the swish of the waves coming onto the shore. It sounds as if it's a recording, something created to soothe. I could close my eyes and drift off to sleep with a lullaby around me.
"But then every once in a while, you're a spoiled little city girl."
"Hey!"
He gives me a look that's half teasing, half stern, and my heart thumps. "Do you disagree with me?" He’s begging me to defy him. He loves it when I do, I know he does. I imagine him laying down his fishing gear, capturing my wrist, finding a tree stump and hauling me across his lap.
Fine, then. I can play along, too. I ignore the thundering of my heartbeat as I scoff at him.
"You are full of shit," I say, thereby breaking two rules. Not only am I defying him, I tossed in a naughty word. Oh, what's he gonna do now?