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“Very well, thank you. How’s the hardware store?” Harper replies politely, coming around the counter to speak with the older man. Bud Douglas is the second generation of Douglas men to run town’s only hardware store. His father, Ernest, opened the business in the fifties and it has been a staple in town from the beginning.
I wave at my sister and her friend, who are both now in deep conversation with their neighbor, and head out to my car. Needing to get back to the bed and breakfast, I opt to send Mom a quick message, letting her know I’m going to be just a little bit longer. Then, I head to my favorite nail salon and have a pedicure. Nothing makes you feel seductive like new panties and a bra, as well as pretty pink toes.
Three nights left with Rhenn.
I might as well make the most of it.
* * *
The rest of the days fly by.
Nights too.
For the last week, every morning, I’ve woken beside Rhenn, and go to sleep knowing that in the morning, we’re one day closer to saying goodbye. It has become difficult to fall asleep, and by the time Friday night comes, I have to pretend to be asleep so that Rhenn will doze. I’ve found out over the last two weeks that he never falls asleep first, always waiting until I’m out.
Saturday morning, I feel him slip from my bed. He’s an early riser, even when he keeps me up half the night with sex. A creature of habit, Rhenn slips on his shorts and running shoes to pound the sand on the beach. Since I don’t have guests to feed, I’ve been able to sleep in a bit or, as I have more often than not, taken my cup of coffee to the beach and watched for his return.
Rhenn running up the beach, covered in sweat, is truly something to behold.
This morning, I don’t find myself anxious to get up and meet him. After I hear the soft click of the door closing, I give in to the sadness and despair that’s been threatening to overcome me since our dinner last night.
One more night.
That’s all we have.
The tears start to fall, and I don’t even try to stop them. I cry for the cruel hand fate has dealt me, and the fact that I’m not strong enough to follow the number one no-strings rule that I, myself, put in place.
Don’t fall in love.
Well, jokes on me, isn’t it, because not only did I go ahead and fall in love with him, but I fell hard. Harder than I’ve ever loved before. My heart soars and yet weeps at the exact same time. This time tomorrow, we’ll be saying goodbye, and I’m not sure how I’m going to do it. But I will. I will because that’s what the arrangement was. Sex. Two weeks. Nothing more.
And the tears fall harder.
* * *
By the time Rhenn returns from his run, I’m up and showered, opting to wash my face and scrub away any remnants of tears, and in the kitchen, cooking.
“Something smells good,” he says, his wet T-shirt thrown over his shoulder as he approaches me and places a kiss on my cheek. “Good morning.” His voice. Even though he’s been up for more than thirty minutes, it’s still deep and husky from sleep. I know I’ll never forget the way he sounds first thing in the morning.
“Morning,” I reply, clearing my throat and pushing down the emotion that seems lodged there.
Rhenn places his hands on the counter and rests his chest against my back. “Is that what I think it is?”
I smile through the pain, loving that this last breakfast makes him so happy. “It is.”
He nuzzles my neck, inhaling my freshly showered skin and says, “I’m going to miss these pancakes.”
And my heart cracks. It becomes hard to breathe. My knees threaten to buckle. I have to set down the knife I’m using so I don’t chop off a finger.
“You okay?” he asks, placing his lips on my collarbone and sliding them along the sensitive flesh.
I nod, not trusting my voice, even though I’m slowly dying inside.
I’m not sure if he believes me or not, but I don’t complain when he holds me against the counter for a few minutes longer. Breakfast doesn’t matter at this point. Nothing really matters.
“I’m going to run through the shower and then I’ll help you finish these,” he adds, placing another kiss on my neck and turning away. I miss his presence immediately.
The door to the bathroom shuts and the sound of the water running fills the small house, yet it feels emptier than ever before. How am I going to get through this weekend? Pasting on a smile (albeit fake) and showing him how much I’ve enjoyed our time together, because this time tomorrow, I’ll be alone.
He’ll be gone.
