Fisher's Light (Page 42)

His hands and forearms are covered in dust from the sanding and I think about all the times I’d sit out on our front porch and watch him do the exact same thing, completely in awe of him and the beauty he created with those hands. The same hands that worked tirelessly to make something so beautiful out of an old piece of wood touched me with tenderness and love.

I keep walking towards him, drawn to his body and his presence just like I always have been. My foot bumps against a piece of wood leaning against the wall, knocking it over, and the noise has Fisher’s head jerking up in my direction.

He stares at me in surprise, his eyes traveling over my features, and I wonder what he sees on my face right now. The song is still playing, the words swirling around me, taking me back to a time when I felt lost and alone and needed him. Just…needed him.

“I will get lost into your eyes. I know everything will be alright.”

His brown eyes stare into mine and I think about all the times he looked at me, really looked at me, and saw me with clear eyes, a clear mind and a clear heart, just like he’s doing now. I want to tell him that I have no idea what I’m doing here, that I have no idea what I’m doing with my life and I haven’t since he left. Now that he’s back, I feel even more lost and confused, like I’m twisting and upside down in a wave in the middle of a hurricane. I have no idea which way is up and I can’t seem to find my way to the surface.

Tossing the sandpaper down without a word, Fisher stalks across the room to me, his hands cupping my cheeks and his lips crashing down against mine before I can even blink. His tongue slides past my lips and his body pushes against mine until my back hits the stairwell wall behind me. As soon as his tongue swirls around mine, every thought flies from my mind. I clutch at the front of his shirt and pull him closer, needing more. His thighs and his hips and his stomach press against mine and the weight of his body pushing against me makes it hard to breathe, but I don’t even care. I don’t need air when his breath is in my mouth, giving me life.

I didn’t realize how much I missed the taste and the feel of him until right at this moment. Fantasies and memories are nothing compared to the real thing. I deepen the kiss, pushing harder against his tongue, tasting peppermint and coffee and something that is so uniquely Fisher that my heart beats faster, thrilled at having it back after missing it for so long. Our mouths push and pull against each other and Fisher takes all I have to give with his lips and tongue. Our heads change positions, back and forth as his hands tighten their grip on my face, pulling my mouth harder against his so he can punish me with his lips and tongue. I remember every moment I’ve kissed this man; the countless times fly through my mind and I lose myself in him and forget the obstacles still standing between us. I moan into his mouth and, just as quickly as the kiss began, it ends. He drops his hands from my face and I immediately feel cold air on my cheeks instead of the warmth of his palms as he takes a few steps back from me, breathing deeply and running one hand nervously through his short, dark hair.

“Jesus, Lucy,” Fisher mutters under his breath.

A flicker of the memory of Stanford muttering the same thing to me a few weeks ago floats through my mind, but I push it away. Stanford’s curse was filled with shock and a touch of irritation, while Fisher’s is filled with nothing but want and need.

Stanford. Shit! What the hell am I doing?

“Lucy, I—”

Pushing myself away from the wall, I edge around him and over to what he was working on, cutting off whatever he was going to say. I don’t want his damn apology. If he apologizes to me right now, I will lose my shit all over this basement. I was an idiot for losing my mind as soon as I came down here, but that stupid song and this stupid man are screwing with my head. With his broad shoulders and his strong arms wrapped around me, I felt safe and secure. The light, woodsy smell of his cologne is still burned into my nostrils and the taste of his mouth is still imprinted against my tongue. My cheeks and chin burn from the scratch of his beard and I have to take a few deep breaths to stop myself from turning around to kiss him again. I have a boyfriend. I shouldn’t be making out with my ex-husband, who was probably two seconds away from telling me he never meant to kiss me so forcefully, so fucking completely that I forgot about the man in my life I’m supposed to building a future with and all of the ways Fisher hurt me.

“This is beautiful, Fisher,” I tell him, changing the subject and running my hands over the sign he was working on when I came down here.

He loves talking about his work and it’s the best way to distract him from the giant fucking elephant in the room.

“Thanks,” he replies, coming up to stand next to me, but keeping a few feet between us.

I stare at the words Ruby’s Fudge Shop intricately carved in the middle with a beautiful, swirling design of candies and other confections surrounding it.

“I took your advice and decided to apologize with some gifts. This is the last one, and I’m hoping to finish it tonight so I can drop it off tomorrow.”

Stan’s Diner, The Lobster Bucket and Ruby’s Fudge Shop – the three businesses he damaged last year before he left the island. It touches my heart that he listened to me and did something so thoughtful for these people.

“That’s amazing, Fisher. I’m sure they appreciate it,” I tell him, trying not to let this sweet side of Fisher turn my insides to mush.

I change the subject again, bringing it back to my real reason for coming here. It wasn’t to kiss him and it definitely wasn’t to see the old Fisher, the one who always melted my heart.