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Pressing up against his back and digging in his pocket for his keys, she looked at him.
“It’s number one,” he said, then turned back to Brawler.
She left her suitcases for those two burly guys to carry and unlocked the door with a One on it. She pushed it open and sighed softly. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but his place was gorgeous.
She walked inside, set the keys down on the side table in the expansive foyer, and looked up. Instead of a boring light fixture, there was a huge, brightly patterned parachute, lit from within, so the colors of the flowing silk played along the foyer walls, and those of the broad staircase leading to the second and third floors. The dining room was casual, the living room scattered with overstuffed, comfortable couches and chairs, an antique brass tray resting on a log-inspired coffee table. All of it was situated in front of a spectacular stone fireplace. Over the mantle was a huge painting of a stormy sea with a white sail taking up most of the canvas and to the left of the fireplace was a gallery wall of beautiful pictures, underwater ones of undersea life and caves, landscapes with mist covering a jungle floor, open ocean with dark landmasses in the distance. The gorgeous wood floors were sparsely covered in woven rugs.
The room was bright with sunshine from arched windows above a full-length sliding-door system that led to an outside patio and well-tended yard.
Still in a little bit of shock at how put together and elegant Easy’s tastes were, she looked beyond the dining room to a gleaming kitchen, whitewashed wood cabinets, and stainless-steel appliances, including, she noted, an espresso machine. Eager to see the rest of it, she headed for the stairs.
She climbed to the second floor where there was a cute spare bedroom decorated in birds, a bathroom, and a long closet along the hall. She opened it to find a wealth of scuba gear, wetsuits, flippers, on one side and underwater cameras on the other. She ran her hands over the wetsuits, marveling at the man she’d met in a hellhole on one of the worst days of her life. Finally, she closed the doors and turned toward the master.
She pushed the whitewashed wood doors open and gasped. It was masculine, but so tastefully done. The walls were the color of Easy’s eyes, a huge whale mural spanning three walls, the fourth wall was a bank of more arched windows. The curtains were so cleverly made to look like fish netting, stylish, but open to the light. His bed had a quilt of all different shades of blue with matching pillowcases, the sheets a crisp white.It didn’t surprise her that the bed was made, and the room was as ruthlessly clean and neat as the downstairs.
She then went up to the final level. It was done in beautiful shades of sepia, cream with touches of burnt umber waves on the walls. This is where his entertainment center was located along with a large screen TV, surround sound, and an X-box, no doubt for playingCall of Duty. There were movie posters on the wall, with a majority of them featuring Spiderman.
There was a bathroom up there and she opened a door to a dark room. This must be where he’d developed all those photos for that gallery wall downstairs.
She went back downstairs to get a closer look at those photos. She felt him enter the room a few minutes afterward but kept her focus on the series of fascinating framed photographs.
He stopped just behind her, so close she could feel his breath stir the ends of her curls. “What do you think? You expected hammocks, empty pizza boxes, and clutter.”
“You aren’t that predictable,” she whispered.
He leaned a bit closer, and she stared that much harder at a matted shot of Easy in mid-leap out of an airplane. She shuddered at the feel of his breath on her neck, his body heat warming her even from the slight distance there still was between them.
“Yeah?” he said, moving an infinitesimal bit closer, amusement in that one word.
“Okay, so maybe hammocks.”
He chuckled.
Then it dawned on her. She looked up. “Oh, Easy, my oh-so-clever man.”
“What?”
“The parachute…air. The ocean bedroom…sea. “The sepia-toned waves…land. SEAL. That’s so beautifully thought out.” She turned to him. “I’m so happy,” she whispered. “You make me so happy.”
“Same here, babe,” he said, his hands grasping the fabric of her summer dress and pulling it off over her head, displacing those curls and making them bounce back to her shoulders. His tantalizing mouth turned up at the corners and he made a low sound when he found her in nothing but her panties.
She pushed his clothes off his body with eager hands. He scooped her up and carried her upstairs to his bedroom. With a push of a button, near the light switch, shades started to roll over the windows shutting out the light. They fell together on his bed with questing hands and delving tongues. He fit himself to her and it felt like coming home.
Afterward, they lay together in each other’s arms, and Easy had rolled up the shades, the night sky filled with stars.
Pressing a kiss against her hair, he began slowly stroking his hand up and down her back. His expression softening, he said, “I love you, Astraea.”
“I love you, Matthew.” Then she assumed her usual position, folding her arms on his chest. “Out of curiosity, did you ever figure out those flashbacks and what they meant?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“At first, like you said, they’re all ways I survived, but then the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I’d lost something important. With Jeri, it was the loss of innocence of my open heart. With BUD/S I lost the innocence of my youth, and with Diepold, more loss of innocence, coming into my own as a man. But now I realize it’s all about life. I’m alive, Astra and it’s all about living that life you are lucky enough to have.”
“Wow, that’s something,” she said, leaning up and kissing him. After several minutes, she pursed her lips and gave him a cheeky grin. “So,” she said, running her finger over his stubble, “We’re taking the parachute when we move.”
He smiled, hooking a strand of hair over her ear, “Oh, yeah?”
