Cliff didn’t respond. Instead, he kicked his feet gently back and forth in the water, mimicking the same moves as Alexis’ feet. They stayed quiet for a few minutes, the sound of birds squawking the only noise to break their solitude.
“I. . .um. . .saw the photographs on your wall. Who took them?”
Somehow he knew that she was referring to one picture in general. The one of herself. He remembered the day he found the photograph. He had been scrolling through some candid shots of the wildlife as he normally did, but then he noticed a woman standing on the edge of the field. She had been carefree and utterly beautiful to him. After zooming in, he realized quickly that it had been the same woman he had seen jogging a few weeks before. She was looking at the wheat grains with such reverence and delicacy that he couldn’t help but capture it.
“I did.”
By her startled gasp, that notion seemed to surprise her.
“Really? They’re beautiful, Cliff.”
“Thanks. The good aim doesn’t just benefit snipers, I suppose.”
“Was that what you did with the Army? You were a sniper?” He knew better than to ask how she would know that information. The only thing he was confident of was that she had no clue about his current job.
“I am.” He let that little token of information hang in the air, knowing that she wouldn’t be satisfied with the open response.
“Do you just take pictures of nature and unassuming women?” Her voice was closer now, right near his ear and by the change in her breath, he could tell that she’d shifted closer to him.
Turning his head to face her, he
’s surprised at the few inches separating them. “I take pictures of things that calm me.”
After her nod, Cliff waited for more questions, knowing the curious side of her was roaming freely. She surprised him again as she steered their talk in a different direction.
“Tell me about your tattoos.”
His body shivered as her slender fingertips traced the dragon on his arm. Cliff had never had this kind of reaction to a woman before, not in this feral, all-consuming sense.
“They don’t mean much to me personally, but they’re symbolic of some things that I stand for.”
“Really? Like what?” she asked as her fingertips fell to the koi fish swimming around his forearm.
“The dragon stands for strength, the koi fish for determination and good fortune, and the tiger for power.”
“What about your chest?”
That was the piece he didn’t want to discuss and he had been worried that she might bring it up. Grabbing her hand, halting her movements, he told her, “That one was more complex.” The thorned rose with wings was a symbol and memorial of his failed marriage.
“Oh. Well, when did you get them all? Do you want more? Oh, do you do them on yourself?” She seemed eager and genuinely intrigued as she searched his eyes for an answer, her voice perked up with each question.
“I got them after I officially left the rangers. I’m always looking to get more, but they have to stand for something. I usually call up a colleague to do my ink, I don’t trust myself enough.”
“That makes sense.”
“I didn’t notice any tattoos on you. Have any hiding?” That was what he really wanted to know. Alexis didn’t seem like someone that would go get a tattoo just for the hell of it. If she had one, it definitely had a meaning to her.
He watched her skin turn from a beautiful peach flush to stark white. He began to wonder if he’d hurt her, or if she hurt herself coming out here, but he watched as her hand reached up toward her hair, tucking it behind her ear. Her hand shook the entire journey.
“Alexis?” he asked wearily, the concern for her overwhelming his senses.
She appeared like a shell of herself for a few seconds, completely lost in her own mind. Cliff worried that he’s asked her something that brought back a bad memory or a terrifying moment in her life. “Alexis, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean. . .”
“I had forgotten. It’s not something I think about often, you know?” she whispered and Cliff ached to remove the pain he’d suddenly caused.
“I didn’t mean-” he began but she quickly interrupts.
“I have a scar under my arm. I got it when I was little. That’s what I tell everyone. But the truth is, my father had some of his friends hold me down and he burned a marking onto my skin. I remember the pain being unbearable. But the worst part was that my mother sat in the corner of the room watching me cry out for help.” She chuckled to herself then turned to face Cliff again. “I haven’t thought about that in a long time. I usually keep that information buried away with a lock and key. What was it about you that you bring out my secrets?”