Living
Jonathan walked with her into her room. He plopped down in a large cushioned chair pulling a mostly empty bottle of whisky from his inside jacket pocket and took a pull from it.
"Don't you think you've had enough of that, Jonathan?" Evelyn asked him snatching it from his grasp and setting it on the table.
"I didn't drink it all! You and O'Connell helped a bit."
"Yes, and then you ran off with it. Rick would probably appreciate if you reimbursed him for that, too, Jon."
"Psh," was the noise he made, waving his hand dismissively, "he can afford it, Evie, we've all just come into undisclosed wealth." He reminded her.
"Yes, but it's just plain rude."
"Oh, please, O'Connell wouldn't recognize rude if it were to slap him in the face." He reclined into the chair and crossed his legs. "So, why did your night end so early?"
"Things started to get a little heated, not by way of arguing I mean." She explained.
"That's bloody well good. Arguments with him tend to stop at the end of his fists in most cases." Jonathan said rubbing his jaw in memory of his introduction to Ricks knuckles.
"That may be true, but he would never hit a woman, Jonathan. He may have a bit of temper but he's not a complete scoundrel."
"That's not what you said when we first met him. You said, and I quote: 'I think he's filthy, rude and a complete scoundrel.'"
"Yes, I'll admit I thought so at first, but I believe most of it's an act, if truth be told."
"Do you?"
"Yes, I do."
"I can't say I feel the same. I dare say he helped us through all that death and doom but I still don't trust him as far as I can throw him."
She laughed. "Please, Jonathan, you couldn't even lift him off the ground, much less toss him anywhere." The image in her mind was quite hysterical.
"Exactly my point, Evie."
"Well, I think he's rather charming and handsome."
Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes, I suppose he is a dashing fellow…women seem to swoon over him. Why wouldn't they? He's brave, resourceful, strong and strapping and all that. But, he can be a bit of a savage at times…testy, and short of wits."
"I find him to be quite witty, actually."
"Oh, good for you." He said, waving a dismissive hand again.
She ignored him and went about her business. She walked into the bedroom and began rummaging around in her bags when she heard Jonathan's voice float in, barely audible. "When you say things got heated and not by way of arguing…" he stopped hoping she would finish up his thoughts.
"Just say what you mean to, Jonathan, really!" He was beginning to annoy her.
"I mean to say, for someone who claims to be a modern woman, someone who despises old traditions concerning woman," his voice becoming clearer as he made his way toward her bedroom, "you still carry on…well…traditionally."
"Are you calling me a prude?"
"Well, I wouldn't put it so bluntly…"
"I beg your pardon, my dear brother, but any respectable, strong woman waits until she's married." She stated with a 'that's that' air in her speech.
"Think about it, Evie. Is O'Connell really marriage material? I say, especially for you. What would he provide for you that you can't provide for yourself?"
"Strength, protection, support, love" she shrugged in a very Rick sort of fashion "…he takes orders well."
"Takes orders…his involvement in the French Foreign Legion is all that is." He went on mumbling more to himself then to Evelyn. "Trained him to shoot first and ask questions, never."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Well, I don't think the notion of Rick and I getting married all that absurd."
"It's an infatuation, Evie."
"An infatuation, after all we've been through?" She said with disbelief.
"But that's just it, isn't it? The extreme circumstances in which you met: reanimated mummies, curses, danger, nearly escaping with our lives, rescues…it's only natural you would be fawning over each other after all that. There was a moment or two that even I was gushing for him. But, what is to happen when it all blows over? What will you have then?"
"It is quite possible we could feel the same."
"Which is how, exactly?"
Evelyn just stood in silence, thinking hard on what Jonathan had just said. He was right, she had already thought about all that, in fact. Rick had never made his feelings for her verbally clear. He also wasn't the type of man she would have normally given a second thought if she had met him under normal circumstances. Sure, she would have thought him attractive, she wasn't blind, but that would have been the end of it.
"Are you quite finished?" She asked, not wanted to admit he had a valid point.
"No."
"Then make your point, Jonathan, I want to have a wash before bed."
"I suggest," he blurted out, "you have a bit of fun with him before he runs off. It'd be a shame for you not to at least give him a go."
Evelyn was mortified by his suggestion. Her hands flew to her hips, fixing them in place as if they might just fly off and smack Jonathan in the head on their own accord. "Give him a go? Really, Jonathan, what has gotten into you?"
"Life isn't all about stuffing your head with knowledge or working your arse off to declare your self-worth in your career…it's about seeing the world." He said slurring and swaying on his feet. "Now, I don't mean the world in a geographical sense; I mean really see it. Kick up your heels, take a few immoral risks, you could use a bit of fun, Evie. Don't want to end up an old spinster."
Evelyn felt completely insulted. How could Jonathan stand there and talk to her with such bold impudence. He put a hand on her shoulder and then said affectionately, "Life is about simply living, Evie."
Rick had said the same thing down in the bar, only he summed it up with only one word. "Living." Maybe they were right. She never had taken risks in the ways of indulgence and to be honest, she had always wanted to know what the fuss was about when it came to sexual promiscuity. The more she thought about the whole thing, the more she warmed to the idea. Rick could be her next great discovery. She could unwrap him, explore him, uncover all his secrets, absorb all she could learn from his years of experience before she had to neatly wrap him back up and see him carried away by the next explorer to strip and plunder. That thought caused her stomach to tighten. "What if I were to get hurt?" She asked him.
Jonathan was taken aback. "Yes, well, I never thought of that. He is a rather large man…I suppose…"
She ran over his words before he could finish. "I meant emotionally, Jonathan. What if I were to get my heartbroken in the process?" She asked, her face a rosy pink.
"Oh, yes, of course." He was still trying to shake the appalling mental image from his mind. "That is to say you even have a heart to break." He teased. Being close siblings, they both had a tendency to be a little brash form time to time. It was expected of Jonathan but with Evelyn it was always unforeseen, which made it that much more wounding for the person involved.
"Oh, just go away, Jonathan, I've heard enough from you." She huffed, taking his arm and walking him towards the door.
"Fine, have it your way, then." He said stumbling as they moved.
"I will. Good night, Jon." She opened the door.
"Pleasant dreams." He said and walked out.
Evelyn shut the door and turned, spying the forgotten bottle on the table. The whole conversation between her and her brother had been absurd. Jon was just being his cocky, opinionated, drunken self. Still, as much as she tried not to, she couldn't help but see the truths in it all. If she didn't take action and throw caution to the wind, she might very well regret not taking the chance. Feeling her courage waning, she picked up the bottle and took a rather large swallow from it. She was proud to think she was starting to build up a tolerance. Her eyes watered a little but didn't cough or flinch at the burning taste in her throat. She could give Rick and her brother a run for their money if she kept this up. She took another healthy pull from the bottle and slammed it back down harder then she meant to.
She went to the bedroom and looked at herself in the mirror trying to decide if she should change or stay in her light green chiffon dress that lay loose over her body and stopped just below the knee. She loved the lightness of the material and she liked how it showed off her slender shoulders and arms. The color brightened her eyes beautifully. Her legs were bare and as well as her feet. She settled on not changing and fixed her hair and touched up her makeup. She grabbed her small bag, took one last swig from the bottle and marched out of her room and down a few doors.
She knocked daintily and waited for a few moments. When there was no answer she began to knock a little harder but midway through the door flew open and Rick's towering figure stood gazing down at her. He was dressed just as he normally was: brown pants, white button up cotton shirt with the top few buttons undone and sleeves rolled up past his elbows, thick leather strap around his right wrist. The only thing missing was his leather double shoulder gun holster which was usually always on his person.
"Evie!" he said with unexpected surprise. "I thought you were going to bed."
"I was, but Jonathan and I started talking…"
"That's never a good idea." He said, stepping aside to let her in.
"I'll have you know, Jon is a wonderful conversationalist." She said in defense of her brother.
"If you say so." He walked over to the table in front of the sofa were it appeared every weapon he owned was splayed out on a soft slightly soiled cloth. He sat down and picked up a gun that had been taken apart for cleaning.
Evelyn wrinkled her nose. "Must you clean these so often? It seems you're always tinkering with these things." She picked up his butter fly knife, letting it dangle in her fingers as if it were some filthy, worthless trinket that had been lying on the ground.
Rick gently took the knife from her. "Careful, that's pretty sharp." Did she always have to handle everything she saw? "And yes, it keeps them in good working condition and… I have nothing else to do."
"You could read a book." She suggested.
He looked at her with indifference. "I don't have any books"
"You could borrow one of mine." She offered.
He still looked rather jaded so she dropped it. She went to pick up another weapon but Rick took her hand and laid it gently in her lap. "I'd prefer if you didn't touch them."
"I'm only curious."
"I know." It was something he did admire about her; her child like curiosity and thirst for knowledge. "If you're interested in learning more about how to handle them I'd be glad to teach you sometime, but until then let me handle them. K?"
She quietly watched him as he worked. His hands were quite large with bruised and scarred knuckles. She noticed how his fingers moved in a nimble but graceful manner. It was amazing to her that he could handle some of the smaller, delicate looking parts of the gun. She found herself inappropriately fantasizing about his skillful hands caressing her skin, just the thought made her blush. Rick noticed the flushed color in her cheeks.
"Wow, I'm better than I thought."
"I beg your pardon?" She said, obviously confused.
He gestured at her face. "You're blushing again. I would never have guessed that weapons maintenance was such a turn on for you." He flashed his dazzling smile. The cool, steel blue color of his eyes captivated her beyond words. She sat silently awestruck.
"Uh, you okay?" He asked.
"Kiss me, Rick." She demanded.
He laid the gun down without breaking their gaze. He complied with her request, kissing her so thoroughly it sent her head spinning. Rick could taste the lingering flavor of the whisky on her tongue, leaving him to wonder if that was the very thing controlling her actions. Though he wasn't going to complain, holding Evie in his arms was a much better way to spend his time. Longing to feel his strong frame close against her she leaned into him. He responded by wrapping his arms tight around her pulling her closer still. She loved the smell of his skin. It had a faint sent of soap and shaving cream and sweat, it seemed to intoxicate her. Her hands roamed the hard contours of his shoulders and the taut muscles of his back. The evidence of his strength made her feel delicate and feminine in his embrace.
His hands were just as busy, gliding over the soft curves of her hips and waist, wondering to her ribs until he found the swell of her breast. She pulled in a sharp breath at the feeling of his warm touch there. He stopped momentarily, "Is this okay?" He asked in his rumbling voice.
"Yes." She whispered sweetly and pressed her slightly parted lips against his throat, tasting the salt of his skin. His callused hand traveled up her leg, stopping at her knee. His thumb lightly caressed her there, kissing her graceful neck and shoulder. She rewarded him with a soft moan. His hand then continued to venture further up her thigh, his fingers leading the way, daring to push his limits. The material of her dress bunching against his wrist along the way. She jumped in surprise when he grazed the firm, ample flesh of her bottom. He quickly pulled his hand out from under her dress, letting it fall back down to her knee once more. She wondered why he stopped, she hadn't wanted him to. The sensation of his touch was maddening and she wanted more. She unbuttoned his shirt and slid her hands inside tracing the lines of his nearly sculpted chest with her finger tips, easing her way down his torso. His body seemed to tense up and she could tell he was holding his breath. She broke their kiss and discovered a pained expression upon his face, a sort of a reserved longing. She pushed his shirt off his shoulders. "Is this okay?" She asked him.
He didn't answer, only nodded reluctantly. Evelyn was soaring with excitement. She couldn't wait to get his clothes off and explore him. She knew what a naked man looked like but she'd never actually seen one in the flesh, much less touched one. He finally relaxed against the back of the coach and allowed her to continue with her investigation. As badly as he wanted to do the same to her, he was hesitant, nearly skeptical of the whole thing. What exactly was going on here? Was she drunk? If she was she didn't seem overly impaired. She was so quick to stop his advances in the days past; she even slapped him once, which he had expected but didn't care at the time. The fact that she was taking the reins now was making him unexpectedly nervous. He had never been anyone's 'first' before, not that he was aware of, anyway. Even his own first time had been with a slightly older, experienced woman. What if he hurt her or frightened her? What if he was completely misreading her? He was torn, what was the right thing to do here? This wasn't some passing woman he met in a pub, he loved her. He wanted her to slow down so that he could take his time and be sure to please her. He wanted her to be completely sober so that there were no regrets and most of all; he wanted her to remember it.
He wrapped his fingers easily around her upper arms and peeled her away from his mouth. "What'aya doin'?"
"Isn't it obvious?" She asked and lunged at him again but he held her strongly at bay.
"Yes, but WHY are you doing it?" He replied, feeling it was safe to let go of her arms.
"Because I find you irresistibly attractive and I know you feel the same. I'm curious to know what it's all like." She smiled devilishly.
"You do know what curiosity did to the cat, right?"
"What cat?" Her hands slinking their way back down his torso.
"Okay, no more of that." He said grabbing her wrist and pulling her hands away once again.
"Oh, Rick, stop being such a gentleman and ravish me."
"As tempting as that offer is, I'm telling you," he said sitting up straight and pulling his shirt back onto his shoulders, "that's not what you want."
"Yes, it is!" She insisted. "How dare you tell me what it is that I want?"
"Just trust me, you don't want this…not like this, not now."
It seemed like all her life she was told she didn't have enough experience to move forward with what she wanted. Jonathan and his friends would never let her play cricket with them because she had never actually played. The fact that she knew the rules better than they did made no difference to them. The Bembridge Scholars denied her application for her 'lack of field experience', again claiming her excessive knowledge not to be good enough. Now, she was being told that her own desire to have a sexual encounter with this lovely man was not truly what she wanted. She was certain she was being told this simply because she had never actually done it, never mind that she knew plenty about everything involved with the act. She was willing to bet he didn't deny that American woman down in the bar!
"If not now, then when?"
Rick was confused. "Is this an actual question or a rhetorical question?"
"I want us to do this before our feelings for each other subside and we go our separate ways."
"Go our separate ways?" Feelings subside? She continued talking but his ears were buzzing like a dozen guns had just been blazing next to him. He heard her say something about 'extreme circumstances' and going back to England but she sounded distant. This was it, he had been falling peacefully, happily, but now he could see the ground coming up fast to meet him. This was going to be the end of him. Her voice finally came back into focus.
"…what do you think the future holds for you, Rick?"
"I don't know, I hadn't really thought much about it."
"Why not?"
He shrugged, "I've just always went with the flow. I haven't had a home or a steady source of income for almost three years. I've never really felt I had a future. I've always just lived in the present."
"I admire that about you." She confessed in awe.
"What, instability?"
"No, being able to throw your life to the winds, not caring where you'll end up. Living by chance and not being held down by a plan that may or may not work out the way you had hoped. There would be nothing to look forward to, therefore you're never disappointed."
"It sounds great when you put it like that, but it's not the best way to live, Evie."
"Maybe not forever, but for a little while…Show me, Rick." She said, grabbing at his collar to pull him close. "Show me what it's like to throw caution to the winds and give in to my desires. Let's live right now, before it's gone."
"That's dangerous territory to play in." His sandy blond hair hung in his eyes as he spoke. "You sure you wanna gamble with your emotions like that?" His eyebrows furrowed in concern.
"You don't think I could handle heartache?" She asked accusingly.
"I have no doubt that you could, but what about gambling with mine. Have you considered how it would feel to break someone else's heart?"
She tried to keep her stern attitude in check but she softened up a bit. "Well…no, I guess I didn't think about that."
"No, I guess you didn't." She had seen Rick try to keep a stone face through his emotions over the past few weeks they had known each other. As much as he tried to hide the hurt he was feeling now, his eyes gave him away. They always did. "So, how does it feel?"
She didn't say a word. She felt like a heartless fool. She reached a hand out to touch his knee but he stood up, rejecting her solace.
"Let this be your first and only lesson in living carefree." He said as he buttoned up his shirt. "In the end you're left lonely and empty. That's where I was when you met me. I had accepted my death, hell I was even looking forward to it." He put his leather holster over his shoulders and began loading his revolver. "I've never been one to believe in fate really, but then you came along." He flipped the cylinder closed and slid the gun in a holster. "Just in time to change my life for the better. If that's not fate, Evie," he picked up his butterfly knife and added another gun to the holster, "then I don't know what is." He started walking towards the door.
Evelyn stood up. "Where are you going?"
"I don't know, I hadn't really thought about it." He opened the door and turned back to look at her. "Do me a favor, don't be here when I get back." Then he left.
"Rick, wait, I…" but the door closed before she could finish.
