Message in a Bottle

"You didn't!"

"We did. There were five of us, and we filled the back of the truck with stolen Christmas lights. And we left the strands--that was the worst part. It looked like the Grinch had come wandering down the street. We were out there for almost two hours, laughing uproariously about what we were doing. The street had been featured in the newspaper as one of the most decorated streets in the city, and when we were done... I can't imagine what those people thought. They must have been furious."

"That's terrible!"

He laughed again. "I know. Thinking back, I know it was terrible. But at the time, it was hilarious."

"And here I was, thinking you're such a nice guy...."

"I am a nice guy."

"You were the Grinch." She pressed on, curious. "So what else did you and your friends do?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yeah, I do."

He began to regale her then with tales of other teenage misadventures--from soaping car windows to tepeeing the houses of former girlfriends. Once, he claimed, he saw one of his friends driving alongside him while he was on a date. After his friend motioned for him to roll down the window, he did--and his friend promptly launched a bottle rocket into his car that exploded at his feet.

Twenty minutes later he was still telling stories, much to her amusement. When he finally finished, he asked her the same question that had originally started the conversation.

"Oh, I've never done anything like you," she said almost coyly. "I've always been a good girl."

He laughed again then, feeling as if he'd been manipulated--not that he minded--and knowing full well that she wasn't telling the truth.

They walked the full length of the beach, exchanging additional stories from childhood. Theresa tried to imagine him as a young man while he spoke, wondering what she would have thought about him had she met him while she was in college. Would she have found him as compelling as she did now, or would she have fallen for David again? She wanted to believe that she would have appreciated the differences between them, but would she? David had seemed so perfect back then.

They stopped for a moment and looked out over the water. He stood close to her, their shoulders barely touching.

"What are you thinking?" Garrett asked.

"I was just thinking how nice the silence is with you."

He smiled. "And I was just thinking that I've told you a lot of things I don't tell anyone."

"Is that because you know I'm going back to Boston and I won't tell anyone?"

He chuckled. "No, it's not that at all."

"Then what is it?"

He looked at her curiously. "You don't know?"

"No."

She smiled when she said it, almost daring him to continue. He wondered how to explain something he had difficulty understanding himself. Then, after a long moment in which he gathered his thoughts, he spoke quietly:

"I guess it's because I wanted you to know who I really am. Because if you really know me, and still want to spend time with me..."

Theresa said nothing but knew exactly what he was trying to say. Garrett looked away.

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

"It didn't make me feel uncomfortable," Theresa began. "I'm glad you said it...."

She paused. After a moment they slowly started walking again.

"But you don't feel the same way I do."

She looked over at him. "Garrett... I..." She trailed off.

"No, you don't have to say anything--"

She didn't let him finish. "Yes, I do. You want an answer, and I want to tell you." She paused, thinking of the best way to say it. Then, taking a deep breath: "After David and I split up, I went through an awful period. And just when I thought I was getting over it, I started to date again. But the men I met... I don't know, it just seemed like the world changed while I was married. They all wanted things, but none of them wanted to give. I guess I got jaded about men in general."

"I don't know what to say...."

"Garrett, I'm not telling you this because I think you're like that. I think you're the furthest thing from it. And it scares me a little. Because if I tell you how much I care for you... in a way, I'm telling myself the same thing. And if I do that, then I guess I'm opening up myself to get hurt again."

"I'd never hurt you," he said gently.

She stopped walking and made him face her. She spoke quietly.

"I know you believe that, Garrett. But you've been dealing with your own demons for the past three years. I don't know if you're ready to go on yet, and if you're not, then I'm going to be the one who gets hurt."

The words hit hard, and it took a moment for him to respond. Garrett willed her to meet his eyes.

"Theresa... since we met... I don't know..."

He stopped, realizing that he wasn't able to put into words the way he was feeling.

Instead he raised his hand and touched the side of her face with his finger, tracing so lightly that it felt almost like a feather against her skin. The moment he touched her, she closed her eyes and despite her uncertainty let the tingling feeling travel through her body, warming her neck and breasts.

With that, she felt everything begin to slip away, and suddenly it felt right to be here. The dinner they had shared, their walk on the beach, the way he was looking at her now--she couldn't imagine anything better than what was happening at this very moment.

Waves rolled up on the beach, wetting their feet. The warm summer breeze blew through her hair, heightening the sensation of his touch. The moonlight lent an ethereal sheen to the water, while the clouds cast shadows along the beach, making the landscape seem almost unreal.

They gave in then to everything that had been building since the moment they met. She sank into him, feeling the warmth of his body, and he released her hand. Then, slowly wrapping both arms around her, he drew her against him and kissed her softly on the lips. After pulling back slightly to look at her, he gently kissed her again. She kissed him back, feeling his hand run up along her back and settle into her hair, burying his fingers in it.

They stood with their arms around each other, kissing in the moonlight for a long time, neither of them caring if anyone could see them. They had both waited too long for this moment, and when they finally pulled back, they stared at each other. Then, taking his hand again, Theresa slowly led him back to his house.

It seemed like a dream as they moved inside. Garrett kissed her again immediately after closing the door, more passionately this time, and Theresa felt her body tremble with anticipation. She walked to the kitchen, picked up the two candles from the table, and led him to the bedroom. She put the candles on his bureau, and he pulled the matches from his pocket, lighting them as she walked to the windows and began to close the curtains.

Garrett was standing by the bureau when she returned to him. Standing close again, she ran her hands over his chest, feeling the tight muscles beneath his shirt, giving in to her own sensuality. Looking in his eyes, she untucked his shirt and slowly began to pull it up over his torso. Raising his arms, she slipped it over his head and leaned into him, listening as it dropped to the floor. She kissed his chest, then his neck, shivering as his hands moved to the front of her blouse. Giving him room, she leaned back as he slowly worked his way downward, unbuttoning each button carefully.

When her blouse fell open, he slid his arms around her back and pulled her to him, feeling the heat of her skin against his. He kissed her neck and nibbled on her earlobe as his hands traced the outline of her spine. She parted her lips, feeling the tenderness of his touch. His fingers stopped at her bra, and he unfastened it with an expert twist, making her breath catch. Then, continuing to kiss her, he pulled the straps over her shoulders, freeing her breasts. He bent down and kissed them tenderly, one at a time, and she leaned her head back, feeling his heated breath and the moisture from his mouth wherever it touched her.

She was short of breath as she r

eached for the snap on his jeans. Meeting his eyes again, she unsnapped them, then slowly slid the zipper down. Still watching him, she ran her finger across his waist, skimming her nail softly against his navel before tugging on the waist of his pants. They loosened slightly and he stepped back for a moment, removing them. Then, stepping in to kiss her again, he lifted her in his arms and gently carried her across the room, putting her on the bed.

Lying beside him, she ran her hands over his chest again, now damp with perspiration, and felt his hands gently move on to her jeans. He unsnapped them, and lifting her bottom slightly, she took them off, one leg at a time, while his hands continued to explore her body. She caressed his back and bit softly on his neck, listening as breathing quickened. He began to take off his boxer shorts while she slipped off her own panties, and when they were finally naked, their bodies pressed together.

She was beautiful in the candlelight. He ran his tongue between her breasts, down her belly, and past her navel and up again. Her hair caught the light, making it sparkle, and her skin was soft and inviting as they clung to each other. He felt her hands on his back, pulling him closer.

Instead he continued to kiss her body, not rushing the moment. He put the side of his face to her belly and rubbed gently. The stubble on his chin felt erotic against her skin, and she lay back on the bed, her hands in his hair. He went on until she couldn't take it anymore, then he moved up and did the same thing to her breasts.

She pulled him back to her, arching her back as he slowly moved atop her. He kissed her fingertips one at a time, and as they finally joined as one, she closed her eyes with a sigh. Kissing softly, they made love with a passion kept stifled for the last three years.

Their bodies moved as one, each of them fully aware of the other's needs, each trying to please the other. Garrett kissed her almost continually, the moistness of his mouth lingering wherever it touched, and she felt her body began to tingle with the growing urgency of something wonderful. When it finally happened, she pressed her fingers hard into his back, but the moment it ended another one started to build again and she began to climax in long sequences, one right after the next. When they finished making love, Theresa was exhausted, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. She relaxed by his side, his hands still gently tracing her skin, and she watched as the candles slowly burned toward their base, reliving the moment they had just shared together.

They lay together for most of the night, making love again and again, holding each other tightly afterward. Theresa fell asleep in his arms, feeling wonderful, and Garrett watched as she slept beside him. Just before he fell asleep, he gently brushed her hair from her face, trying hard to remember everything.

Right before daybreak, Theresa opened her eyes, realizing instinctively that he was gone. She turned in the bed, looking for him. Not seeing him, she rose and went to his closet, finding a bathrobe. Wrapping it around her, she left the bedroom and glanced toward the darkness of the kitchen. Not there. She looked in the living room, but he wasn't there, either, and suddenly she knew exactly where he would be.

Stepping outside, she found him sitting in the chair, wearing only his boxers and a gray sweatshirt. Turning around, he saw her and smiled.

"Hey there."

She stepped toward him, and he motioned for her to sit in his lap. He kissed her as he pulled her to him, and she put her arms around his neck. Then, pulling back when she sensed that something was wrong, she touched his cheek.

"You all right?"

It took a moment for him to answer.

"Yeah," he said, quietly, without looking at her.

"You sure?"

He nodded, again without meeting her eyes, and she used her finger to make him face her. She said gently:

"You look sort of... sad."

He gave a weak smile without answering.

"Are you sad about what happened?"

"No," he said. "Not at all. I don't regret any of it."

"Then what is it?"

He didn't answer, and again his eyes shifted away.

She spoke softly. "Are you out here because of Catherine?"

He waited for a moment without answering, then took her hand in his. Finally he met her gaze.

"No. I'm not out here because of Catherine," he said, almost whispering the words. "I'm out here because of you."

Then, with a tenderness that reminded her of a small child, he gently pulled her close and held her without saying another word, not letting go until the sky began to lighten and the first person appeared on the beach.

CHAPTER 9

What do you mean, you can't have lunch with me today? We've been doing this for years--how could you forget?"

"I didn't forget, Dad, I just can't do it today. We'll pick it up again next week, okay?"

Jeb Blake paused on the other end of the phone, drumming his fingers on the desktop.

"Why do I get the feeling you're not telling me something?"

"There's nothing to tell."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Theresa called to Garrett from the shower, asking him to bring her a towel. Garrett covered the mouthpiece and told her he'd be right there. When he returned his attention to the phone, he heard his father inhale sharply.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

Then, in a tone of sudden understanding: "That Theresa gal's there, isn't she?"

Knowing he couldn't hide the truth from him now, Garrett replied: "Yeah, she's here."

Jeb whistled, obviously pleased. "It's about damn time."

Garrett tried to downplay it. "Dad, don't make a big deal out of this...."

"I won't--I promise."

"Thanks."

"But can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Garrett sighed.

"Does she make you happy?"

It took a moment for him to answer. "Yeah, she does," he said finally.

"It's about damn time," he said again with a laugh before hanging up. Garrett stared at the phone as he replaced it in its cradle.

"She really does," he whispered to himself with a small smile on his face. "She really does."

Theresa emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later, looking rested and fresh. Smelling coffee brewing, she went to the kitchen for a cup. After putting a piece of bread in the toaster, Garrett walked to her side.

"Good morning, again," he said, kissing the back of her neck.

"Good morning again to you, too."

"Sorry about leaving the bedroom last night."

"Hey, it's okay.... I understand."

"You mean that?"

"Of course I do." She turned and faced him with a smile. "I had a wonderful night."

"So did I," he said. Fishing a coffee cup out of the cupboard for Theresa, he asked over his shoulder, "Do you want to do something today? I called the shop and told them I wasn't coming in."

"What did you have in mind?"

"How about showing you around Wilmington?"

"We could do that." She didn't sound convinced.

"Did you have anything else you wanted to do instead?"

"How about we just sort of hang around here today?"

"And do what?"

"Oh, I can think of a couple of things," she said, putting her arms around him. "That is, if you don't have a problem with that."

"No," he said with a grin. "No problem at all."

For the next four days, Theresa and Garrett were inseparable. Garrett ceded control of the shop to Ian, even allowing him to teach the dive classes on Saturday, something he'd never done before. Twice, Garrett and Theresa went sailing; on the second night they stayed out all night on the ocean, lying together in the cabin, rocked by the gentle swells of the Atlantic. Later that evening she asked him to tell her more adventure stories about early sailors, and she stroked his hair as the sound of his voice reverberated against the interior of the hull.

What she didn't know was that after she'd fallen asleep, Ga

rrett left her side as he had their first night together and paced the deck alone. He thought about Theresa sleeping inside and the fact that she would be leaving soon, and with that thought came another memory from years before.

"I really don't think you should go," Garrett said, looking at Catherine with concern in his eyes.

She stood beside the front door, her suitcase beside her, frustrated with his comment. "C'mon, Garrett, we've already talked about this. I'm only going to be gone for a few days."

"But you haven't been yourself lately."

Catherine felt like throwing up her hands. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm fine? My sister really needs me--you know how she is. She's worried about the wedding, and Mom isn't much help at all."

"But I need you, too."

"Garrett--just because you have to be at the shop all day long doesn't mean I have to stay here, too. We're not joined at the hip."

Garrett took an involuntary step backward, as if she'd struck him. "I didn't say we were. I'm just not sure whether you should go when you're feeling this way."

"You never want me to go anywhere."

"Can I help it if I miss you when you're gone?"

Her face softened just a little. "I may leave, Garrett, but you know I'll always come back."

When the memory faded, Garrett walked back inside the cabin and saw Theresa lying under the sheet. Quietly he slipped in beside her and held her tightly against him.

The following day was spent at the beach, sitting near the pier where they'd first had lunch. When Theresa got sunburned by the early morning rays, Garrett walked to one of the many shops right off the beach and brought back some lotion. He applied it to her back, rubbing it into her skin, as gently as if she were a child, and even though she didn't want to believe it, deep down she could feel that there were moments when his mind was drifting somewhere else. But then, just as suddenly, the moments would pass and she would wonder whether she'd been mistaken.

They had lunch at Hank's again, holding hands and staring at each other from across the table. They talked quietly, oblivious to the throngs around them, neither one of them noticing when the check was brought to the table and the lunch crowd emptied out.