“Butterflies?”
She nodded and told him about sneaking up there when she was in trouble and creating kaleidoscopes of butterflies on the walls and ceiling. Audra spoke slowly and somewhat haltingly, still feeling shy and unused to sharing her secrets—even simple, childish ones.
“Why butterflies?” he asked softly, as a snowflake landed on his nose.
She glanced at the sky and squinted, noticing a few more fluffy flakes swirling in the air. “I don’t know,” she murmured. The air was cold around them, but she felt cozy and safe, safe enough to be honest. She didn’t just want to share information with him, to disclose the facts of her life, she wanted to tell him who she was on the inside, to answer the questions no one else had ever asked. Because she trusted him. “I guess it was a way to express the things inside of me. I’ve always felt like my life was sort of . . . colorless.” She expelled a breath, and it plumed in the frosty air. “It’s like I have a whole world of thoughts and feelings and . . . dreams on the inside, but everything around me has always been in black and white. Muted somehow.” She gathered her strength, her heartbeat thrumming against her ribs. “Until you.”
**********
Dane’s heart gave one joyous jump and then slowed with calm happiness. Until you. The words rang in his head, bringing a smile to his lips. “God, Audra, you’re all I think about,” he murmured before leaning in and kissing her. Audra tilted her head so he had more access to her mouth and let out a breathy sigh of pleasure, trusting him with her body and her heart. He’d never get enough of kissing her, of feeling the slow slide of her tongue against his own, of exploring her so thoroughly as she made breathy moans that made his body throb and harden. She was pleasure and pain, so small and delicate, and yet powerful enough to possess him with a lingering look, a secret smile shot in his direction so that he felt like his knees might buckle with wanting her.
Her hand moved under the hem of his shirt, her palm flattening on his lower stomach, causing his muscles to bunch as he let out a groan. Seeming to be spurred on by his sound of tortured pleasure, she unbuttoned his jeans and slid her hand inside, wrapping her hand around his erection. “Oh God, Audra, honey, stop. I’m so . . . I’ll . . .” The thought ended on another groan of pleasure as she stroked him, exploring his body.
“I want you,” she whispered. He opened his eyes dazedly, seeing the same desire on her face that must be on his.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded, lying back on the quilt as he brought the other blanket over them, and continued to kiss her. Her mouth was s
weet and wet, hot in the midst of the freezing weather outside their intimate cocoon. After what felt like hours of intimate exploration, Dane put on a condom, his hands shaking with the intensity of his arousal. He pushed into her tight body, Audra’s face constricting in pain for only a moment before she relaxed, then gazed at him with that trusting look that made him feel like a superhero. He began moving inside her, so intensely turned on he knew he wouldn’t last long. He brought his hand to the place they were joined and she arched her back on a gasp as he used his finger to pleasure her. He gritted his teeth, trying desperately to hold himself back until she’d come. God, it felt so different being inside her when she came. He could . . . feel her come and it was the most wonderful, exciting thing he’d ever experienced. She cried out his name, her fingers raking down his skin as he, too, shuddered in bliss.
Afterward, lying together in the lazy aftermath, Dane kissed down her neck as she smiled happily at the winter sky, snow still falling softly around them. And, to him, the whole world felt new, sweeter somehow. She turned her head as he nuzzled her ear, her hand reaching toward the delicate, pale green flowers blooming in the snow. She gasped out a breath and Dane raised his head, his expression lazy, his eyes filled with contentment. “What?”
Audra nodded toward the flowers and then to the tree protecting them from the weather. “My grandfather told me a legend about these flowers. Do you know it?”
CHAPTER NINE
Audra
Now . . .
I stared out the airplane window, ice crystals gathered at the corners of the double-plated Plexiglas. The plane gave a sudden jolt and I turned my head forward, clenching my eyes shut. New discovery: I didn’t love flying. The nerves that fluttered inside me, due to being thirty thousand feet above the earth, joined forces with the apprehension over the reason I was flying to form a roiling cauldron of anxiety.
The air smoothed out and I took a deep calming breath, keeping my eyes closed. Maybe if I could fall asleep, I’d wake and this part of my journey would be over. I’d been so nervous about today, I’d slept terribly the night before. It might be difficult to sleep, but then again, I was exhausted. The roar of the engines became a distant background noise, the edges of my worried brain seemed to smooth, the particles floating away and . . .
I was standing in a field of flowers, every color so vibrant and vivid that all I could do was turn slowly, staring in delighted awe. I knew all their names: snapdragons, tulips, poppies, alstroemeria, and I had the strangest sense that this place had been created with me in mind. My fingers grazed a bright purple orchid, its petals velvety and smooth, and a cool breeze blew across my face.
I turned completely and gasped when I saw a man walking toward me. I blinked and he smiled warmly at me. “Audra.”
“Grandpa,” I breathed. My eyes widened when over his shoulder, I saw my grandmother standing on one side of a tall tree, and my father standing on the other. Standing. In my father’s arms was a small wrapped bundle that he cradled carefully, gently. My heart leapt, my throat constricting as longing welled inside me so suddenly and so intensely that I felt weak. A small moan of yearning rose in my throat.
“You must bloom, Audra,” my grandfather said. Slowly, my eyes moved to him and then to that small, cradled bundle.
“I want . . .” I croaked, reaching toward my father, reaching toward that beloved bundle I wanted so badly in my arms. “I want . . .” I repeated.
My grandfather smiled again. “Soon. But first you must bloom.” My grandfather looked over his shoulder at my father, and my father, looking more peaceful than I’d ever known him to be, smiled at him and then at me. “The war stole his spirit, and I gave up my own. You must not give up yours. Bloom, Audra.”
Bloom? I didn’t understand. I—
The loud ding woke me and I blinked my eyes open, groggy and discombobulated, unbalanced from the dream I’d had. Bloom, Audra. What the heck had that been about? I sat up straight, trying to shake off the strange dream and get my bearings. I was on an airplane, flying to California to see a man who had once looked at me with love, and then with pain, and finally a blank nothingness.
I took a deep breath, letting it move through my body. God, that dream. It’d left me with the weirdest feeling. I needed to shake it off.
I looked out the window and saw gray sky and billowy white clouds, and when I leaned farther, my forehead pressing against the glass, I could see the ground, and even make out individual buildings below. We were landing. My heart thundered in my chest, seemingly louder than the roar of the engine. You can still change your mind, Audra. Just get back on an airplane and fly home.
And what? Let Luella Townsend ruin my business? Stay curled up on my couch—in the home where time had stood still—and crumble to dust? I’d been tempted to do that another time as well, but I hadn’t. I’d gathered myself together and kept going. Maybe not in all aspects of my life, but at least in one. Thistles and Thatch. It had kept me alive—both literally and figuratively—by feeding my body and soul. I would not simply hand it over without a fight.
Feeling bolstered, I smoothed my hair back, worked out the kinks in my neck from sleeping in an upright seat for several hours, and prepared for landing.