Fighting the impossible Page 2

  “Oh,” she startled, “Of course! Here you go!”

  Claire was piercing her as if she was reading her soul. Tara looked dazed; the memories were still tickling her fingertips.

  “You look dead to the world again.” said Claire.

  “Hmm? Yes!” Tara’s cheeks were burning, her searching eyes were eager for another taste of the past.

  “You sure, you’re okay?” Claire didn’t stop.

  “Come on, dear! I know you are worried, but I’m fine! See!” Tara was laughing.

  “Yes, I see! Only, that I’ve already heard it every day over the past four years.”

  It was like someone sucked all the joy from Tara’s eyes.

  “Why are you doing this?” she cried out. “Why?!” it was barely a whisper now.

  “Someone needs to return you to Earth, into reality, and I choose that person to be me. You can’t live in the past, Tara! There’s still a lot to fight for!” Claire’s tone was serious.

  “But I am fighting! Every day! And I don’t know why you need to remind me that.” Tara stood up abruptly from the table. “I think my appetite has just vanished!”

  ***

  Late that afternoon Tara stood leaning against the stone railing of the stairs in the garden, her favorite place in the entire complex. The water cascades were rippling softly against the dying day. The sunlight was slowly withdrawing for its dream, sending its last heat over Tara’s face. She inhaled deep the scent of the garden – spices, pine, autumn flowers, violets and even grapefruit, melon, lily-of-the-valley, musk and amber, and then…

  A moment later, Peter was walking toward her.

  Flash!

  Chapter three

  Five years earlier

  The day of the wedding

  Peter was hurrying up the stairs to Tara. She had come here to gather strength for the upcoming day, to enjoy the first sun rays and have a hot sip of cappuccino. But now he appeared and quite unconsciously was setting explosives in the air.

  “Tara!” there was something different in his voice, as if the conversation was urgent, brooking no arguments. She took in his whole appearance just now. Still damp, his hair was falling unruly over eyes that looked tired, but resolute. He was almost dressed up for the wedding, but the tie was missing and his shirt was unbuttoned. He seemed tense and ready for a fight.

  “You look like a man who hasn’t slept all night.” Tara raised an eyebrow. Peter radiated restlessness. “I hope everything is okay!” she said.

  “Yes, but a sip of coffee would be much appreciated. May I?” asked Peter, relishing the deep aroma, whirling away from Tara’s cup.

  “Has nobody warned you, not to get between me and my morning coffee?!” laughed Tara.

  Peter took a step back; his eyes were puzzled and hopeful.

  “Someone’s in great spirits today! Well…, but what if I really haven’t been sleeping all night?!” his voice begging her.

  Tara handed him the hot cappuccino.

  “Here, I guess you really need it. I just hope, you’ll look better for the group photo!” she was teasing him, without being hostile and exuberance was flowing from her, making everything sounds like fun. Peter studied her over the steam from the cup. Something had changed; there was still tension around them, but with a different charge.

  “Look,” he started, “I know that we haven’t started well, but today is an important day for our friends. What about burying the hatchet?” Peter’s eyes demanded an answer. He put the cup down and took her hands between his palms. “Peace?”

  Tara shivered. There was something about Peter McClain that was touching her on a whole new level and it didn’t matter, what in him made her feel like in a cocoon of happiness, love and hate mixed all together. Her fingers tangled with his. And just like that her lips found his, whispering:

  “Peace.”

  Peter took a sharp breath and his body tensed as a string. Her lips were seeking answers, touching his, her hands found his hair and pulled him closer. Tara’s head was spinning. His scent! It was making her dizzy. Spices, forest, spring morning. She had to breathe. He was sucking the oxygen out of her lungs. Peter’s body relaxed a moment later in her hands, every fiber, responding to the touch. Like everything around them froze, ice-cold silence, and they both were flames, blazing with each second. Their bodies were like the two parts of a complex mechanism and you could almost hear the click, when they fit together. His touch was everywhere, burning its way to every cell of hers. His hands barely touched her face, gentle as a feather.

  “Tara…” a throaty sound, seeped in passion and then: “Tara!” - persistently.

  All she managed to utter was a “Shush!” Something, deeply buried inside her, was threatening to erupt and wipe out all, the whole world, leaving only the two of them and a cup of hot cappuccino as a witness. Her hands found his bare chest, the skin was hot like lava, and his heart was beating uncontrollably. Her touch tore a moan from his throat and he pulled her closer. Tara got caught in a maelstrom. His hands, his lips, became more insistent, eager, desperately seeking more of her sweetness. Tara found strength and opened her eyes, staring in his. And they were no longer two blue lakes, but a deep ink, darken like a thunder sky.

  ***

  Tara couldn’t remember how they ended up in her room. The only real thing at the moment were his lips, brushing her body, the hands, embracing her face, his skin, caressing hers, he, whispering her name.

  Time stopped. The only sound was their breathing, the only sensation – the warmth of their bodies.

  “Tara…” Peter whispered her name so softly, his lips barely touching hers. “Tara, love, we’ll miss the wedding!” he was smiling.

  Tara tried to find her voice.

  “The wedding?!” she opened her eyes, still clouded with excitement… And then:

  “Oh, my God! The wedding! What time is it? Damn! Claire will kill me. Kill us! Crap! We have to hurry!” Tara was frantically collecting clothes, scattered on the floor. “Peter, I can’t find my underwear! Peter!?” he had lounged lazily on the bed, taking in her every movement and body curve, innocently playing with her lace lingerie.

  “What are you doing?” Tara grabbed the little piece of lace from his hands. “I have to go and change, to…to…”

  Peter suddenly pulled her down on the bed, pressing her with his damp, naked body.

  “Peter, but what…?! We don’t have time. It’s not funny!” Tara’s eyes flashed with warning.

  “Hush, relax!” his voice reverberated around her. Tara struggled, trying to push his muscular body and failed. “Come on, Tara, stop!” Peter was laughing out loud. “We have enough time to get ready. Moreover, this is your room and I’m the one who should try to find his clothes.” a devilish flames sparkled in his eyes.

  Tara looked around. Had she really lost her mind, the sense of time and place? She sighed.

  “Well. Then why are you still here? You need to prepare, me too.”

  “I don’t mind if you’re just like that, wearing nothing!” his hands were rubbing her breasts.

  “Peter!” Tara moaned, “We can’t…” he drowned her words with a kiss, deep, soft and beyond natural. This man had won her without even making a conscious effort. Something was rousing again, deep inside her. Need, necessity to be next to him, to feel his heartbeat. He smiled, sensing her desire.

  “Fine, I’m going. But I’ll wait for you in the garden. Whenever you’re ready, love!” he got up, put on his shirt and pants quickly, threw her a last longing look, filled with desire, and went out.

  Tara was staring at the door. For a moment, the room seemed cold and depressing without him. Was it even possible for this man to influence her moods, to unlock a passion, unknown until now? Tara focused. The wedding. So… she quickly went to the bathroom. The hot water reminded her strongly for Peter’s caresses. She switched to cold and a little later had regained her composure. She put on her light green chiffon dress, twisted her hair in a casual bun and put a b
it makeup. Her lips were swollen by the passionate kisses. “Oh, God!” Tara was blushing even remembering the moments when he… “Stop!” She stood in front of the mirror, struggling with herself. What had just happened, seemed so rash and careless, but at the same time so right and natural. None of this was inherent to her. She’d rarely let anyone so close. And that was why no one had hurt her till now. The truth was, she feared exactly that, the pain that someone might cause her, the scars, which could be branded in her soul. But despite the fear, she had never felt so full of energy, as if finally had found a worthy cause in life to follow. Tara put a sparkly peach gloss on her swollen lips and looked in the mirror for the last time. Whatever happened in the future, she was ready.

  ***

  Tara was walking slowly to the garden, trying to clean her mind. She stopped a few meters away and closed her eyes, inhaled the fresh woody air and smiled to the soothing wind.

  “Don’t tell Claire, but today you are the most beautiful woman here!” he was so close.

  “Peter.” it wasn’t a question, but merely a statement. Tara hadn’t opened her eyes yet, enjoying the feel of his body close to hers.

  “I said I’ll wait for you, right! Tara…” he moved an unruly lock away from her face. “Will you do me the honors to be my date today?”

  She opened her eyes, studying him. But all she found was tenderness and sincerity and an undercoat – deep desire. Even the playful sparks were gone, no trace of irony. He wanted her and was more than serious. He slid his hand and enfolded her waist. Tara was smiling. She was amazed, how one touch could ignite passion and bring peace in her soul. Yes, he gave her confidence, she trusted him.

  “Is that ‘Yes’?” Peter hugged her gently.

  She pressed her lips on his, surprising him.

  “We’ll see!” whispered Tara in his ear, then quickly slipped from his arms and headed for the rose garden, where the ceremony was to be held. She felt like child, who wanted to play, jump, sing and dance. “Come on!” Tara turned to Peter, handing him her hand. “And tell me, please, that everything is going according to plan and we haven’t ruined the wedding.”

  “For the record, this is ‘Yes’.” he intertwined his fingers with hers.

  Tara’s eyes sparkled with excitement, anticipation and joy. There was no need to answer, and they both knew that something more than sex had happened between them, and were determent to find out exactly what.

  “Everything’s fine, the guests started to arrive fifteen minutes ago. Tom is here. Claire? Did you see her after…” the sentence hung in the air. His thumb was painting circles on her palm.

  “You have to stop doing that!” Tara looked serious.

  “What?!” Peter was perplexed.

  “To touch me like that, to remind me of the morning, to…” she was blushing.

  He moved his other arm around her waist, touching the base of her spine, fingers burning through the thin fabric of her dress. He took her hand and placed it on his chest, and then very slowly leaned toward her. She closed her eyes, welcoming the kiss, but he just whispered in her ear:

  “Like that?”

  Tara shivered.

  “Sorry, love, but I can’t promise you that. I barely contain myself not to throw you over my shoulder, get locked in a room and skip the whole wedding!”

  Her heart was banging in her ears, and bones were melting. With the last of her strength Tara said:

  “Later!”

  ***

  The wedding came and went in a blur to her. She was smiling, welcoming guests, solving last minute problems. Claire. Tom. Vows. Tears. Joy. Peter and his eyes, always catching hers in invisible embrace. Everything was blurred, and her heart threatened to burst from such emotions. The day was almost over. The newly married couple had just cut the cake and was getting ready for the plane, which was supposed to take them to their honeymoon. Tara was sipping her favorite Pinot Grigio Rose and admiring the twinkling lights in the twilight. She didn’t want it to end, the magic that floated in the air. The whole scene was whispering that anything is possible.

  “Hi!” said Tara without turning around.

  “How did you know it was me?” Peter’s hands wrapped her.

  “The fragrance you use, it’s sealed in my mind,” said Tara, leaning on his shoulder. Their bodies swayed to the rhythm of the music.

  “Come! I want to dance with you.” Peter led her to the dark part of the park.

  “Uh, excuse me, but the dance floor is in the opposite direction,” said Tara.

  “I have a better idea. Look!” They stopped in front of a hundred years old oak tree, whose crown concealed the night sky.

  “Here! It’s perfect!” Peter pulled her closer to him, breathing in the scent of her hair.

  “I’ve missed you!” his voice betrayed a longing.

  “But I was here all day, silly!” Tara smiled.

  “No, just me and you, without the flurry.”

  “Yes, you’re right!” she kissed his neck and sighed.

  “Where’s the woman, who wanted to tear my eyes out, or you’re just trying to kill me with kisses instead?” he teased her.

  “I haven’t the faintest idea,” Tara was honest. Then looked him straight in the eye seriously:

  “Do you feel like… home? Like you are exactly where you supposed to be! Here!” she placed her hand over his heart and pulled his to her chest. He didn’t answer for a moment and Tara thought she had gone too far; nevertheless they met just two days ago. Then he took her face, his hands on her cheeks and gently kissed her forehead.

  “You have no idea!” Then added: “I was here last night, trying to figure out what is this between us – chemistry, desire, love or hatred, but you are right, it feels like home!”

  Tara’s blood was boiling; a second was needed to set ablaze her core. His body responded immediately, the muscles tensed and every piece of clothing was an annoying barrier. She wanted him here and now and he would have fulfilled her wish without thinking.

  “Uh, Tara?!” it was Claire, few feet away, wearing turquoise travel suit. “Someone told me I’d find you here,” she said, smiling cautiously, raising an eyebrow. Tara and Peter stepped back sharply from each other like children, caught in the act.

  “Claire!” Tara’s voice sounded hoarse. “Are you ready?” she switched in an instant.

  “Yes! We’ll be going soon, but I didn’t want you to miss me throwing the wedding bouquet and… But obviously you have more important things to do!” Claire was staring at Tara then at Peter. He chuckled.

  “I think you two need a moment alone. Claire, you look gorgeous! Excuse me, ladies!” he nodded and walked away.

  “Sweet talker!” muttered Claire. “What’s going on here?” she faced Tara.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” replied innocently Tara. Her best friend knitted her brows.

  “Do you think that being married today, I went blind and my brain has evaporated? I thought you can’t stand him till yesterday! I even listened to your fifteen minutes break down after you first met him. You were furious! And today you just clung to each other. He was kind of gravitating around you and I can understand that. But you?! Explain, please!” Claire folded her arms.

  “I can’t,” Tara was studying her fingers, and then slowly lifted her eyes. “Today…has happened so many things, changes, I’ve changed. But how and why, I can’t tell.”

  “Tara Whyley, it has never happened to you not to know anything, and I haven’t seen you to make out so shamelessly since high school. Hold on! There is something about you,” a second, two. “Oh, my God! You’ve had sex!”

  Tara blushed.

  “Oh, God! And it’s true! Tara! How could you, you don’t even know him?”

  “Oh, wait a minute! You don’t know him either. Give him a chance! Never thought you can be so judgmental,” Tara was getting angrier. “Tom trusts him enough to make him his best man, why you can’t?”

  “Because I’ve heard one
too many stories of crazy parties, booze, women, and Peter was always there,” retorted Claire.

  “You can’t judge someone by the mistakes he made in his youth. People change. He makes me feel alive and it’s worth it even for that,” said Tara softly.

  Claire came closer.

  “Wait, it’s not just the sexual attraction. You…. You’re in love with him!” Only she was able to summarize the hurricane of emotions in Tara’s head in one sentence.

  “Why do you think you know everything? I… I don’t know,” stammered Tara.

  “But I do, because I know you better than you do. Tara…” Claire started.

  “Ok, even if you’re right!” she raised her hands in a sign of truce. “Why do we even talk about that? You’ll miss the plane.”

  “Don’t think you’ll get away so easily! How can I leave you now in the clutches of this predator?” Claire was shaking her head.

  “But that’s exactly the place I want to be!” Both women laughed.

  “Let’s go! Well, one chance!” were Claire’s last words.

  Then everything happened very quickly. Claire and Tara found Tom, the newlyweds headed to the taxi, all the guests gathered to wish them safe travel. Claire threw the bouquet to the eager ladies; Jessie Clark, a colleague from her office caught it, there were applauses and laughter. Just before they left, the bride looked around and finding Tara said in the clamor:

  “Be careful!”

  “I love you too!” Tara mouthed “Have fun!” she shouted over the crowd. Claire blew her a kiss and was gone.

  “Are you okay?” Peter’s lips were touching the back of her neck. Tara swallowed hard, trying to fight the stinging tears and turned to face him.

  “I think so.”

  He was kissing her tears away. She continued:

  “I just had a long day, my emotions are heightened, and you’re not helping me much,” she took a deep breath. “Come on, I know exactly how you can make it up to me!” her eyes ablaze with passion and impatience.

  ***

  Tara woke in the morning thanks to the sun rays, playing on her face. She frowned. Was the night really gone? Her body was a stranger and refused to obey. She reached out, but the space beside her was empty.