“Not sure yet, but I love to cook and you seem to love to eat. We share that,” she said, lifting the teacup and looking at him over the rim.
“We have that,” he said, feeling out of sorts that there wasn’t more and starting another inner dialogue with himself.
Do I want more?
I like her boobs. I bet the rest of her is pretty nice too. Wait, you can’t think of the woman like that...you’re supposed to be protecting her. Shit, who’s going to protect me from her? She doesn’t need to be protected from me. No. I’m good.
He held her gaze. “Yeah, there’s that. I need to go over a few things with you ladies after lunch. I’m going to have to work this week, don’t know when I’ll have to go, and don’t know when I’ll be back.”
The girls both started to speak at once. Raphael’s head snapped from side to side trying to hear them talking over each other, finally giving up and raising his hands in defeat. He looked to Willow, who lowered her eyes to the plate of food she’d barely touched.
“Willow,” he said, silencing the girls, “I have to work. Before leaving, I shall do everything I can to make sure you have what you need. You have a phone; I’ll call each day that I’m away to check on you and the girls.”
“Outside of the neighbors, no one knows we are here,” she said. “What if somebody calls the police to report that I broke into your house?”
“I have an easy fix for that,” he said with a soft smile. “Let’s clear the table and we’re going for a walk down to the beach.”
“Oh, my goodness, I can’t wait!” Karli said, bounding from the table.
“Should I wear shoes or flip flops? Maybe we can find some seashells, Karli,” Dusty Rose said.
Willow wasn’t as easily amused. Once the girls saw the beach, they would want to go every day. The sun and exercise would do them all some good, but the idea of Raphael leaving them alone made her nervous. Proderick Hymn wasn’t a good guy. He would send his wolves out to hunt them down. She wanted to tell Raphael as much, but she figured he already knew.
“I can’t expect the man to stop his life to take care of a woman and two kids that aren’t his. He’s done enough,” she said under her breath as she began clearing the table. “He’s done enough.”
THE WALK SEEMED TO be the perfect balm for restless souls seeking answers that a higher power didn’t yet want to reveal. The girls raced along the water’s edge, dodging the waves rolling into the sandy shore. Raphael walked along beside Willow, starting conversations on every neutral subject he could think of from favorite Bond villains, to worst 007 movie. The footprints in the sand, when looking back or down upon, resembled a double helix of two people dancing around each other, afraid to connect, but longing to be a part of the greater construct.
“Is your work dangerous, Raphael?” she asked, “I mean is there a possibility of you leaving and not returning to us?”
“Hell, I could go to the store and get sideswiped by a big truck and not return to you,” he said factually. “Life doesn’t make any type of promises, so thinking we are owed something because for a fraction of a second shit didn’t fall in on our heads don’t mean we’ve broken clear of the fracas.”
“Jeez, you don’t sugar coat anything do you?”
“Why would or should I? Hymn was not in that federal pickup sweep at the compound, meaning he could be anywhere and more than likely looking for you and the girls. I don’t see that kind of control freak letting go so easily,” he said.
“And you’re reminding me of this right before you have to leave us; I’m not feeling really safe right now, Raphael,” she said, lowering her head.
He wrapped his massive hand around her delicate fingers. “Listen, you can’t get much safer than here. It’s an island. Most of the population here is predominantly white, the rest is transitory or seasonal. You’ll be gone from here soon. I left no trail for them to follow. You’re safe.”
“That’s not what bothers me,” she said, facing him.
“Talk to me. Tell me what’s troubling you,” he said with all sincerity.
“I don’t want to leave here. I don’t want to leave you,” she said softly.
He didn’t know if it was instinct, but he pulled her into an embrace. He held her close enough for Willow to hear the erratic beating of his heart. The words she wanted to hear couldn’t come to his tongue. He wouldn’t lie to her, but he also couldn’t give the lady false hope of there being a him and her. Not even if that’s what he secretly desired for himself.
“Let’s head back to the house. I think it would be a great time to put on a movie for the girls,” he said. “Also, I have an extra laptop, and I need to show you how to order items online.”
“Okay,” she said, letting go. The scent of his cologne lingered on her skin along with the feel of him inside the embrace. She knew later at night the smell of him would send her hormones into overdrive. Willow felt warmth in her armpits.
“You okay?” he asked, noticing the flushed look on her face.
“No,” she said honestly, “Hymn didn’t allow me to have contact with anyone but the girls. You’re the first man that has physically touched me in six years, so I’m feeling a bit warm.”
He held up his hands and took two steps back. Raphael walked away slowly, calling to the girls and waving them in. They would need showers when they got back to the house. His mind also raced with the bit of information that would keep him circling back to the ebony woman who cooked like a goddess. It was going to be a restless night, and he pondered her words once more, allowing them to eke out of his mouth.
“Six years?” he asked, looking at her.
“Six long, lonely nights, strung out into years,” she said, pressing her lips together. “How many days did you say you’d be away?”
“Shit, right now I don’t know if I even wanna go. Hell, I may call in and quit my damned job,” he said, laughing.
“Am I in danger, Mr. Hoyt?” she asked, noticing the shift in his body language. He went from being protector to something else. Once she spoke, Raphael shifted back into protector mode.
“From me...no, you’re not.”
“Well, that’s a disappointment,” she said with a downturn of her lip. The girls were arriving with handfuls of seashells, both talking 50 miles a minute. She tried to answer each and praise both for their collections, but Raphael was left speechless.
Now he had a second problem.
Not only did he not want to let them go, he wanted to keep Willow. Six years is a long time to not be properly loved by a man. She was too young for him, and he was nearing 50. She didn’t need to be saddled with an old man. The woman couldn’t be any more than in her late 20s. Technically, that made him old enough to be her father. It felt creepy.
Raphael Ian Hoyt didn’t do creepy. He tagged along behind them, consumed in his thoughts and focusing in on work matters. Monday would begin a new day, a new week, and new time to get his head clear. A few days away from them would give the man a bit of perspective. That’s what he needed−perspective.