Author's Chapter Notes:
This first part is a bit different and I am not sure how well it works, but I wanted to try something different. I wanted to show a comparison of their thoughts and the similarities in their day, rather metophorical or actual. Also thank you for being so patient and for sticking with me on this fic. I know it has been a while since my last update. I have been swamped lately. Hopefully my life will grow less chaotic soon. Thanks to all of you who have left me reviews and comments. Please know I have read them all and appreciate you taking the time to let me know your thoughts on this story.
(Hugs)
Julie
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The muscles in his shoulders began to ache and Michael welcomed the distraction, a distraction that kept his thoughts at bay; that drowned them out with each turn of his head, each expulsion of breath.
Michael had made countless laps in the long, cool pool, its smooth liquid fingers matching him stroke for stroke as it washed over his flexing arms, as its beads clung to his skin, shining brightly in the California sunlight.
XXX
Sara's shoulders were starting to ache, but she held her arms straight out as instructed. So far she had been pricked with three pins and she was afraid to move for fear of another.
Still, that wasn't the worst part of this. The worst part of the dress fitting was listening to Katie's ever present voice, the sarcasm always there, lurking beneath the surface, ready to leap up from the depths with a stinging, acid bite.
Sara was surprised her sister had not seized this opportunity to make a comment about her once knobby knees. This had to be a first. But then there was still time. Unfortunately this morning was far from over.
XXX
He dove beneath the surface, swimming deeper. Opening eyes that were almost a perfect match for the pool's cool, blue depths, he scanned the bottom beneath him. He would need air soon, his aching lungs the buoy that would urge him to break the water's surface in a gasp.
XXX
Letting her mind wander, Sara tuned out Katie and Jill, her mind moving with ease beneath the surface of their droning voices, back to earlier that morning, to a particular moment in time, the memory of Michael's body hard beneath her quickly easing any physical discomfort she might be feeling as the color rose brightly in her cheeks.
Against her better judgment Sara let her mind dive deeper, to imagine him beneath her, the hot fluidity of Michael beneath her fingers.
A breath caught in her throat as Sara remembered the one time, the drunken night she had tasted his lips, felt his pulse beating hard beneath her lips as they washed against his neck in exploration.
XXX
Breaking the surface, his pulse beat hard in his throat as he gulped in a breath, as his chlorine reddened eyes tipped up to scan the clear sky. In complete contrast, there was not a cloud to be seen, nothing to mar the surface of this perfect unbroken blue.
XXX
It must have been her sigh that drew their attention.
It took a few seconds for Sara to realize the room had gone quiet; that her mother and Katie were now staring at her like she had grown three heads, three blushing heads to be exact.
Katie giggled and in her discomfort Sara fidgeted, her reward a sharp jab with yet another pin.
XXX
He climbed from the pool, the wet board shorts hanging low on his hips with the weight of the water that clung to them. Long rivulets of water ran along his lean frame as he made his way to the deck chair and grabbed up the sun heated towel to pull around his shoulders. The kink in his neck protested this movement and he winced before moving to scrape the towel over his face.
XXX
The awkward moment was broken, the unwanted attention moving away from Sara when the owner of the dress shop entered the room.
Sara fought back a very different kind of sigh, one of relief, as the seamstress who thought she was a human voodoo doll stepped away, taking her pin cushion of death with her as she moved to join the discussion taking place a few feet away.
Still, this morning couldn't end soon enough.
XXX
Michael lowered his body down onto the deck chair, his eyes going closed as his head hit the warm fabric, the warmth of the sun soaking into him, its heat a solid curtain of red beneath his closed lids as a sigh escaped him.
A light breeze rustled through the trees to pass over his damp skin and then he was asleep, the red curtain turning to a flash of auburn that hid coppery eyes.
XXXXX
A shadow fell over him blocking the sun. Perhaps it was this that woke Michael, or maybe it was her eyes on him that drew him to consciousness. Squinting, he looked up at her.
"Hey."
Sara pulled her eyes from him, her hair falling to cover her face as she plopped down into the deck chair adjacent to him. Michael had a flash of the dream before it was swept from his mind and then it was gone as if the wind, in its greed, had stolen it before he could lay any claim to it.
"How did it go?" his voice was laden with sleep as he eased his frame to a sitting position.
"It went." Sara laid her head back, her eyes going closed as he studied her.
"That bad, huh?"
"Yeah, but it could have been worse. I mean, I could have gotten tetanus from all the pin pricks." Sara tried to joke.
She opened her eyes and turned to look at him when she heard the smile in his voice. "Or you could have bled to death."
"That would have been a welcomed escape. Of course I would have never heard the last of it. And before you ask me how, trust me, my sister would find a way to throw it in my face despite the fact I was no longer breathing."
Michael was laughing now and she joined him, her body relaxing for the first time all day.
When she saw him lying there in his damp board shorts, her first thought had been to flee, to turn and walk back the way she had come, but then his sleepy eyes had blinked open and she was stuck. Now she was glad she had been caught.
"How was the water?" She said, her eyes moving to the pool.
"The water was great. Made me sleepy," he stretched his arms over his head and Sara enjoyed the view of his long, lean body for a beat before moving her eyes back to the deep end.
"That's good, because my mother and Katie plan to throw a BBQ sometime this week." A beat later, "Michael our first ballroom dance lesson is tomorrow." Sara paused, her eyes still on the rippling water of the pool. The only blue depths she felt comfortable looking into at that moment.
"Then we'll be ready. Tonight after dinner…We dance.
XXXXX
His words by the poolside earlier had made a lump form in her throat and now the butterflies in Sara's stomach were banging against her insides full force as if in an attempt to reach freedom.
Dinner was over and the time was near. Very near. Soon she would be in Michael's arms. For better or for worse this was happening. He was about to find out just how inept she was on the dance floor.
Sara was wringing her hands nervously when he entered the bedroom with the small CD player.
"I borrowed this from Jessie."
He bent to plug it in and Sara's eyes drank him in. How could one man look so incredible 24/7? He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans and she was sure he looked better in them then any model being paid the big bucks to endorse. She jerked her eyes from his behind as he stood and turned.
"So, you ready for this?" He clapped his hands together and she jumped slightly.
"Yeah, no, uh huh," Sara nodded and stood up from where she was sitting on the bed.
She forced her hands to relax at her sides. Should she wait for him to come to her, or join him in the middle of the room?
Her question was answered as he moved towards her, his hand held out. "Come on."
She nodded, "Okay, but don't say you haven't been warned."
His smile spread warmth through her and then he was pulling her close, taking her breath. The music he had chosen, obviously a local station was as close to ballroom as one could get.
"Relax Sara."
While one hand was wrapped around hers, his other hand was at the small of her back and she could feel the warmth of each digit through the thin cotton t-shirt she wore. How was she to relax? Still she tried.
"Look at me." His demand erased all of her previous efforts. "Sara, I'm your fiancé, we need eye contact to pull this off." His voice was gentle as he reminded her.
She nodded and brought her eyes up level with his. He was so close she could see the small freckles on his slightly pink nose, his time in the sun that afternoon having brought them out, no doubt.
"If I don't look at my feet…"
She thought this was a good excuse, but Michael shook his head. "Just relax, Sara, and follow my movements ok?"
Nodding again, Sara lifted her right foot. Her movements felt unnatural to her as he moved her through the room.
As if reading her thoughts, "You're doing great. Pretend I'm Jessie if that helps." His smile was reflected in his eyes.
"Yeah, okay." Yeah right. Pretend he was her cousin? Surely he was joking?
As they made their way across the room again Sara grazed his foot, somehow managing to not step on his toes, a miracle in sunny California.
She had a feeling she looked a bit like the tin woodsman from the Wizard of Oz trying to move after being caught out in a heavy rain, but Michael was smiling at her encouragingly.
"You're doing great…You haven't stepped on my toes once." This was barely out of his mouth when she did just that, her heel crunching down on the side of his foot. He winced.
"I'm sorry!" she tried to pull back but he held her firmly.
"Its okay, Sara, I'll live. Besides, toes are overrated." He was grinning at her and she couldn't help but smile back as she shook her head.
"Just remember that when your hobbling tomorrow, Michael."
He laughed and spun her around. "I will do that. But I won't be hobbling. You'll see. After an hour or two of this you'll be dancing like a pro."
An hour or two, was he serious? Sara felt her face grow hot at the idea of spending so long in Michael's arms. She had a feeling she would be a pro by then or maybe drop dead from over stimulation.
"I'm going to dip you so be prepared."
Dip her? "Oh!"
His face was inches away, grinning down at her. Seconds later he was pulling her back up and into his arms. Over stimulation indeed! It was certainly getting hot in the room. Sara could feel sweat moistening along her brow and the first song hadn't even come to an end yet. She would be a dripping mess before this was over.
And then the song was over. Sara breathed a sigh of relief as a commercial filled the room.
"This is supposed to be fun, Sara. Not torture." He was teasing her, she knew this, but he had no idea how right he was and on how many levels.
"Yeah this is a blast. Like O.M.G." Sara said, channeling James with his text talk.
Michael laughed and then the commercial was over to be replaced with a much slower number. His eyes grew serious and then he stepped towards her again and pulled her closer then the previous song had warranted.
"What dance is this?" Did she sound as breathless as she felt?
"What? Oh, I don't know. This music isn't really right for any of the steps I know, so I'm just winging it."
He winged it well. His arms were around her, and God, he was so close! Her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it over the music. But that was silly, wasn't it?
Sara felt a bead of sweat at her temple roll lazily down the side of her face. She reached to brush it aside. His hand caught hers on its way back down and his fingers were wrapping around it, claiming it. They were too close for eye contact, thank God. Sara was sure she would melt into a pool of goo at his feet, if she were to look into his eyes.
The music was sensual and held a hint of the erotic and not in some cheesy porno kind of way. It was a romantic tune, one that Sara had never heard before but it seemed to have been written for these improvised movements.
And then the song was ending. Michael pulled back, his eyes not meeting hers. Soon the room was filled with a faster number.
He hesitated for only a moment and then took her into his arms, but there was at least a foot of space between them. And that was as close as they would get the rest of the night.
XXXXX
"Why are you sleeping on the floor?"
Michael pried open his eyes to look up at the pint sized redhead standing over him. "Ah, I…I guess I rolled off?" He knew this was lame and by the look on Jessie's face she wasn't buying it either.
"Did you and Sara have a fight? When my mom and dad fight, Dad always ends up in the guest room." As she spoke Jessie perched herself on the edge of the bed. She was regarding him with her curious green eyes and didn't appear to be leaving any time soon.
Michael pulled the blanket around him and sat up. "Yeah, we did have a small fight," he said using this for a cover as to why he was sleeping on the floor, "but don't worry, Jess, it was nothing serious. And I'm sure we'll make up." His eyes moved to the empty bed behind Jessie. "Where is she? Have you seen Sara this morning?"
Jessie shrugged, "Dunno. She was up early. And then she left. I thought you were up too, that's why I didn't knock. I was wondering if I could have my CD player back."
"Yeah, sure," Michael said distractedly.
He couldn't help but wonder if the previous night was to blame for Sara's absence. He was an idiot to have let it go so far. He wasn't even sure what happened. One minute he was enjoying himself and then the next he was enjoying himself a little too much.
His hormones were to blame, no doubt, but still he had felt strange. He had never felt guilty for doing his job before, but last night, in Sara's arms he had felt something close to that. But then, he reminded himself, he had never gotten this close to a client before. He had never gotten to know a client this well. Hell, he had never gotten to know a client period.
Scraping a hand over his face, he looked up at Jessie. She was staring at him but looked away when his eyes met hers.
"I guess I'll just get my CD player." She shrugged her small shoulders and rose from the bed.
Jessie was halfway to the door, CD player in hand when he stopped her, "Jess?" She looked back at him curiously, "Don't mention to Sara that you and I talked about the fight, okay?"
Jessie nodded and then she was out door.
XXXXX
Sara had awakened early, her mind too alert to fall back to sleep. Instead of risking waking Michael, she had showered in the downstairs bathroom and after a quick breakfast of toast and juice she had headed out.
Sara was moving along the trail now. She was about two miles into her hike and her legs were starting to feel it. She hadn't done this in so long. Hiking was once a favorite pastime for Sara. It was where she found her true grace. For some reason, alone with nature she was confident not to trip, not to bump into the many branches that presented themselves as the sun dappled through them. She was somehow in tune with herself here. And it gave her a chance to think as well; to think about Michael.
Last night Michael had…what? Pulled back from her, that was for sure, but what exactly had happened?
After what she was calling in her own mind, 'their close dance', Michael had shied away from her. It was only too obvious he was keeping a purposeful amount of space between them the remainder of the night. The lesson had seemed somehow more professional from that moment on, and Sara had to admit she had learned a lot. Michael was an excellent dancer. Still, as was often the case where he was concerned, she was left feeling confused and unsure of herself.
Sighing, Sara pushed a branch aside and stepped into a clearing in the woods. She took in the beauty of the trees in their graceful dance of wind and sunlight and breathed deeply.
This was her place and her place alone. She had never told a soul about this small clearing. She had a crazy thought, that she would like to bring Michael here someday and then shook it from her head.
And it was crazy. Why would she even think something like that?
Sighing again, Sara glanced at her watch. She should be getting back. She hadn't told anyone she was leaving.
She took one last glance at the beauty and serenity of the woods and then turned around to head back up the trail.
XXXXX
Sara stepped from the shower and grabbed a towel from the towel rack. She had worked up a sweat on her hike, but now she felt refreshed.
Scraping a hand over the steamy mirror she gazed at her features, her skin red from the heat of the shower, the turban style towel perched on her head, pulling one of her eyebrows up in an unnatural slant. "Be-oootiful", she made a face, sucking in her cheeks like a model and opening her eyes as wide as they would go. Demented was more like it. She stuck out her tongue at her reflection and made her way to the door to peek out.
All was clear. Michael was not in the bedroom. In fact, she hadn't seen Michael all morning. When Sara returned from her hike he was MIA, but then she hadn't exactly gone looking for him, she had headed straight for the shower.
Moving quickly to the bedroom door, she pushed it shut. She could have sworn she had closed the door behind her before heading to the bathroom.
She was on her way to the dresser when she froze mid stride, the rose on her pillow capturing her eyes and gluing her feet in place. She stared at it for a beat and then made her way hesitantly and plucked the red blossom from its white bed of firm cotton.
Was the rose from Michael? Sara was even more confused by this small but sweet gesture. Why would he leave her a flower? What, if anything did it mean if he had? And if he hadn't, then who? Her mind ticked through the list of the house's occupants. It made no sense for any of them to leave a rose for her, but then it didn't make sense for Michael to have left it either.
Telling herself she could think about this until she was as demented as the mirror had depicted moments ago, Sara set the rose aside and dressed in a soft pink t-shirt and faded jeans. She quickly blew her hair dry and then dabbed on some make-up. She was about to head out when her eyes fell on the rose. She thought about it for only a moment before snatching it up and taking it with her out the door.
Sara sailed right passed Jessie's door, not noticing her small cousin's satisfied, smiling face as she watched from a crack in the bedroom door.
XXXXX
Lunch preparations were in full swing when Sara entered the kitchen. Stella, the live in housekeeper was working diligently at the counter slicing tomatoes for the large sandwich spread she was going to set out.
"Need some help?" Sara offered and plucked a slice of tomato off the plate.
Stella moved to swat at her hand but missed. Grinning in triumph, Sara popped the prize into her mouth.
Stella shook her head and smiled. "You always were too quick for me, Sara." Her eyes lit on the rose in Sara's hand, "That's a lovely rose, but I wouldn't let your mother see you with it if I were you."
It hadn't occurred to Sara where the rose had come from. She had been more concerned with who had placed it on her pillow to even realize that Michael must have cut it from her mother's prize winning rose garden. "Oh…whoops! I think Michael must have picked it. I found it on my pillow."
Stella smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Well I did see him in the garden this morning. It would be hard not to notice that one."
"Stella!"
Stella, who was in her upper sixties had worked for the Tancredi's for years and Sara had never seen the woman blush, but there was no denying the color that bloomed in her cheeks. It seemed Michael had that affect on all women, even the grandmotherly type.
So Michael had been in the garden…This morsel of info had not escaped Sara. Her eyes moved back to the large American beauty rose that was indeed a prize winning specimen.
"Stella?"
Sara shoved the rose into a drawer as her mother entered the kitchen. "Ah, Sara, there you are. "Her mother's distracted eyes fell on her briefly, "Michael was looking for you." Dismissing her daughter, "Stella you can begin setting the luncheon buffet out whenever it's ready. Oh, and Mr. Tancredi has requested lemonade, so if you could make some, please?"
"Right away Ma'am." Stella moved to get the lemons from the pantry as Sara grabbed a pitcher from a nearby cupboard. Jill was already halfway back to the dining room.
Sara worked quietly next to Stella, squeezing lemons, her mind on Michael and well everything. "Do you ever wish things were different, Stella? I mean that you could change things in your life?" She surprised herself by asking the older woman.
Stella regarded her quietly for a beat before answering. "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference'. Words I have always held dear, Sara." Stella smiled at her kindly, the wrinkles around her grey eyes deepening.
Sara nodded, "I guess I just don't know how wise or courageous I am, Stella."
"You are many things Sara, and much more then you know."
Sara was opening her mouth to ask Stella exactly what that meant when Michael walked into the kitchen. Her eyes went to the drawer where the rose was tucked away and she wondered if he would mention leaving it for her.
"Hey, there you are. I was looking for you. Jessie said you took off early this morning."
"Yeah, I went for a hike." Sara squeezed the lemon harder and was rewarded by a stream of juice shooting out, most of it landing in the pitcher, but for the small jet that shot towards her face and straight into her eye. "Ouch!"
She dropped the lemon and moved to the sink to flush her eye with water. Why was it she always did stuff like this when Michael was around? He seemed to intensify her klutziness, heightening Murphy's law until it was golden.
"Let me see," Michael was beside her, his hands moving up to place fingers, just the tips lightly against her cheeks as he looked into her eye. "I think you'll live, but we might need to put a glass eye on the wedding registry," he teased, his hands falling away.
Sara's eyes were watering profusely. "That's not funny!" but she was laughing as she said it.
Stella smiled and shook her head as she moved to the sink to shoo them aside so she could fill the pitcher with water. "Lunch will be ready soon, but only if the two of you find someplace else to flirt. In other words, get out from under this old lady's feet and go enjoy each other."
Sara felt her cheeks flare at the assumption that they would do as they were told.
"But if we do that, who is going to help you set out this amazing feast?" Michael charmed, as he took up one of the large platters and headed for the dining room.
"That one is a keeper for sure, Sara."
Yeah, but first I have to catch him, Sara thought as she grabbed a platter and headed for the dining room.
XXXXX
Lunch was almost over, the conversation geared mostly towards the coming wedding and who would be there. By the sounds of the guest list it was to be the social event of the year or so Jill would like to believe.
Sara had tuned out the conversation around her, her mind on the rose still tucked away in a drawer in the kitchen. She wanted to ask Michael about it but if she did her mother would know he had snipped it from her garden.
But Sara knew there was another reason for her hesitation. She was afraid to make too much out of it. So he had given her a rose, big deal? Her heart sped at the possible reasons behind this gesture, despite her inner struggle to play it down. Don't make this into something it isn't, Sara!
Her attention was jerked back to reality when Jessie, who had thus far been sitting quietly, nibbling on her sandwich, spoke, her voice loud enough to be heard by everyone. "Why don't you just go watch the Breakfast Club again, Jimmie?"
James glowered at his sister.
Michael having missed the death rays shooting out of James' eyes, piped in, "The Breakfast Club is a great movie. I liked Pretty in pink too. There's nothing like a redhead wearing pink." He glanced at Sara with a grin.
Sara felt her cheeks flush when she realized he was not only talking about the movie but was referring to her. Her eyes dipped down to the pink t-shirt she had chosen to wear. First the rose, now this…Sara reminded herself his comment was just for show but still…
Oh, yeah, Jimmie loves Molly Ringwald!" Jessie goaded with a smirk.
Sara had missed the beginning of this exchange between the twins, but could only assume James had said something to Jessie to instigate his sister's wrath. "I do not like Molly Ringworm!"
"Oh yeah, then why did you watch The Breakfast Club six times." Jessie shot back, her small arms crossing in front of her chest with this statement.
James' face was turning red, "I don't like her! Molly…what kind of a name is that, anyways? I mean O.M.G, a Molly is a fish, not a girl!"
Jessie was making fish lips at her brother now…His protestations only adding fuel to the fire.
"Kids…" Susan warned from her place at the table.
"He's such a neo-maxi-zoon-dweebie for Molly!" Jessie said, snidely quoting The Breakfast Club in her insult.
"Shut up!" James was bright red and Sara was starting to wonder if this was going to end with one or both of the twins being grounded.
"James! Both of you! Go to your room!" As if realizing that the twins were sharing a room on this visit and this would not diffuse the situation, "Jessie, go upstairs. James, you go cool off outside." Susan was all business and the twins gave her no lip about their sentencing, they just stood up and filed out of the room. Sara saw Jessie's tongue shoot out at her brother in passing, but neither said a word to the other.
"I'm sorry, guys. Twins, what can I say?" Susan smiled apologetically. A beat later she turned to Sara. "So, do the two of you want kids? Not that I'm trying to get rid of mine!" she joked.
Sara glanced to Michael as if for help, her eyes telling him she was unsure how to answer her aunt's question. "Yes, we definitely want kids, at least two or three, right Sara?"
Sara nodded, "Mm, hmm, two or three…at least."
"That's great. The twins were a handful when they were little, right Jim?" Susan smiled affectionately at her husband as she placed her hand over his.
"Oh, yeah, this, today…this was nothing compared to when they were little." As Jim started in on one of his famous stories about the twin's Sara tuned him out, her thoughts moving to Michael's answer.
Two or three children was exactly the answer she would have given herself, but was this really what Michael wanted, or was it what he thought would be the right answer?
Funny how something as simple as a rose on a pillow could make one question just about everything…