Chapter 23

After the conversation with Gene, I decided to take a walk along the shoreline and then maybe take a dip in the cool ocean. I put on a bikini and then added a t-shirt over it. The weather was mild and the fresh air would clear my mind of debris, so I could focus on how I was going to act around Perry. Mass confusion of the heart and mind came into play when I thought of him. I was falling in love with Perry. I could admit this to myself, but I would never tell him. I couldn’t risk a rejection. After all that David had put me through, it would be the crack that broke the dike.

The Carolina coastline is one of the most beautiful places in the United States.
That day, its wet sands glowed in shades of pale sienna. All types of seafowl lived along the shores and in the marshes, procreating endlessly. The magnificent dunes stood tall, like sentinels over scattered and broken pieces of seashells, whose travels could be told by fine cracks and algae stains. The murky gray waters of the ocean were never clear nor still, hiding marine life and keeping secret the graveyard of sunken ships that encountered the fury of the sea and met a watery fate. I watched the surf crash against some rocks right off the shore, thinking that I was glad not to be a ship shattered to pieces as waves pushed me into the sharp unresisting barnacle-scarred stone, breaking my spirit before sending me to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.

I walked until sunset. When I returned to the Pirate, Perry’s truck was still absent. Hot and tired, I didn’t feel like facing an empty house. I stripped off my t-shirt, racing to the water, splashing and diving into its coolness. I swam as if I were a dolphin, but tired quicker than I wished. My body was getting stronger than it was a month ago but still not as healthy as it used to be. I floated on the smooth swells just past the breaking waves. Dusk covered me from the eyes of voyeurs, who might would have mistaken me for a mermaid and thus have a raison d'être to join me.

I was wary of not letting the tide, pull me into cavernous waters or drag me further down the shore. I kept an eye on the security light that shone from the boathouse. As the soft waves gently rocked me, I became tranquil, letting my body unwind and my mind flutter from thought to thought, like a butterfly in a square patch of yellow flowers.

An explosive splash startled me, causing me to sink under the water. I surfaced quickly and looked around, franticly coughing up water. I was afraid a hungry shark was about to mistake me for supper. But I saw no sinister dorsal fin circling me with deadly intent.

“Kerrie, it’s me, Perry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Perry was a foot away and I was showing more cleavage than I meant to. If I had known he would join me, once he got home, I would have put on a more modest swimsuit.

“What…what…” I sputtered water, “Close your eyes, my top is slipping. So stay right there.” I was immerged in water up to my neck, thankful for the darkening sky.

“Hmm, I noticed, woman. If you like, I’ll swim back to the boathouse and cover my eyes until you slither away hiding your loveliness under your hands.” Perry was teasing me, but if he could see the blush on my cheeks, he would know his words were torture.

“You should have warned me,” I declared. “How long have you been spying, Mr. Peeping Perry?”

He laughed, “Not long. I thought you looked lonely and could use my charming company.”

He dove under a small wave and surfaced closer to me. My lips were trembling from cold and excitement, because when Perry dove under I saw that his swim trucks were like a second skin when wet. I felt very naked inside my skimpy bikini. I should blame Perry, because he was on my mind when I put it on.

“Are you cold, Kerrie?” He was within touch, waiting to embrace me. I could read the desire in his eyes; even shadowed they glinted with want.

“Yes-s-s,” I said, as a shiver escaped causing my voice to shake.

He moved closer, pulling me against him. Nothing was between us except my bikini top, etching subliminal messages onto his hairy chest. I closed my eyes, anticipating the kiss that I knew was coming. He surprised me by pushing my hair away to brush his lips against my neck. “Did you miss me today, Kerrie?”

“Yes-s-s,” I whispered.

“I thought about you all night and even more all day, woman.” He kissed over my shoulder. I strained against him, wanting to taste his lips and wondering when his firm hand would cradle my breast. I felt him follow his path of kisses back up my shoulder and neck. Every caress of his lips branded me with a fire that melted every pore on my skin. “Kiss me, Kerrie. Show me how much you missed me.”

Our lips melted in abandonment. I forgot my anger, my frustration, my confusion and my resolve, as we became lost in the world our kisses created. His hands roamed over my back, pulling me against him. Against his mouth, I whispered, “I missed you, Perry. I…” He stopped my whisper with his lips. Our kisses became soft caresses, as we fought to catch our breath. “Kerrie, you are wonderful. Have I told you that? And so…” he stopped to kiss me, “beautiful.”

I was crying softly, not with sadness but with happiness. I couldn’t reply to his comments, because every word that I had ever spoken or written was not enough to express the way my heart was singing its sweet tune of bliss. He paddled back to the shore, pulling me along. Every few feet he would stop to kiss me, whispering sweet nothings that were no more than a murmur in the rolling surf.

When we got to the shore, shyness came over me and I felt the urge for flight, until his arms pulled me close. I could hear his heart, pounding. Was it pounding for me?

“Let’s get you inside, woman. The night air is chilly. I don’t want you catching a cold.” He picked up our clothes and with his arm around me, we walked the stairs up to the Irish Pirate. I could see the flag at the very top of the cottage, waving in the wind. I felt it’s welcome and for once in my life, I felt as if I had found my home.