Charlie St. Cloud Page 0,62

she dissolved into a sublime state that she had not even known in her younger, wilder days. With sparks between every synapse and energy in every cell, the sensation was surreal, like the bliss she had always dreamed of and had almost given up hope of ever finding.

Afterward, with Charlie resting his head on her stomach, she felt the tears begin to well up, then spill.

“Please don’t cry,” he said.

“I can’t help it. I want to stay here with you. I don’t want to go.”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “There’s no rush.”

But in the shadowed bedroom, he had not seen her fading form. She ran her hands through his hair and rubbed his sinuous back. She pulled him toward her once more. She didn’t want to waste a single moment. There was no time to rest or sleep, for in her heart and soul she knew they would only have tonight.

There’s no rush . . .

The lies we tell ourselves, Charlie thought as he kissed her nape and followed the muscles of her neck down to her shoulders and breasts. He cupped one and then the other. They were so warm in his hands, and then his mouth.

She was right there—arching, twisting beneath him—and yet he knew this rapture was fleeting, and it only made him more ravenous. He ran his tongue along her ribs, over her stomach, down her sides, marveling at her nooks and curves. He kissed the points of her hips, then her thighs, and she curled up in giggles.

“No fair,” she murmured.

“All’s fair,” he answered.

Earlier, when she had flopped on the bed and they had joined together, it had felt like some mysterious experiment. Could they really touch, let alone make love? Was this even possible? With disbelief and tentativeness, they had pushed against each other, like force fields, a flurry of friction and energy, mouth against mouth, hand vs. hand.

Now, this time, as he eased into her again, they merged ineffably. The resistance was gone, and so was the distance. Their bodies coalesced in ways he could not fathom, and the sensation was stirring and soulful.

And so, sweeping aside the impossibility of their union, Charlie pushed deeper and deeper into her until he was completely gone.

TWENTY-SIX

THE TRADE WINDS ROCKED THEM GENTLY IN THE hammock. The flag on the mast of the Catalina 400 rippled. They were anchored somewhere in the cays off the coast of Belize. Sipping from a coconut, Tess was nuzzled up against Charlie. She offered him the straw, he took a sweet sip, and he kissed her lips and throat. He could smell the tanning lotion, sea salt, and that unmistakable scent that was just hers.

Now she was above him, moving in a swirl of motion, caressing him all over. Now they were swinging more, the hammock wobbling, and the coconut drink flying, bouncing across the deck into the ocean. Now she was all around him, pulling, pressing, dancing to some inner music.

It was fast at first, then it turned slower. The swaying in the hammock ceased. Their faces were side by side. Her mouth was open. Tendrils of hair draped over his chest. Her breathing was strong, and she made little sounds that were not quite whimpers. Then her intensity began to grow, and her arms tightened around him. Her hips were pushing harder. She put one hand behind his neck.

“I love you,” she said, her eyes reflecting the sun and sky.

Just as he was about to swear his love, Charlie heard clanging. He lifted his head and looked down the length of the boat. An American flag fluttered at the stern. They were all alone, but there was more clanging, like someone beating a pan. “What’s that?” he asked, but Tess didn’t answer. Her eyes were distant now. She suddenly seemed far away. He struggled to make sense of the noise. Then a man’s voice called out.

“St. Cloud! Charlie! Hello?!”

The words shook him from his dream. He opened his eyes and rolled over. He reached out for Tess.

But she was gone.

“Tess?!” His heart ached as he leaped from bed to the window. Outside, silver sheets of rain obscured the cemetery. That racket had to be Tink down on the dock, clanging the bell on the post. A century ago, the clamor was the fastest way to summon the gravediggers when a casket from the North Shore had arrived by boat.

“Okay, okay!” he grumbled. “Give it a rest! I’ll be right there!” He turned and grabbed his clothes from the chair. And