He stood, holding the leather jacket in one hand, offering me his other; he didn’t let go after we started our walk. We were silent, taking in the beauty of the lake, before we moved on to an area more densely populated with trees. The sun couldn’t penetrate through their thick branches, and full shade equaled lower temperatures.
The deeper we went into the property, the denser the pines became. Their boughs touched, creating an emerald sky above, with specks of gold from the sun glinting here and there. The specks grew brighter where the trees thinned or fanned out far enough to allow light through, but the bald spots were few and far between.
In the cold’s grasp, the scent of pine perfumed the air, deeply resinous, and on deeper breaths, my nostrils burned with it.
Without me having to ask, Brando let go of my hand and helped me into the leather jacket. His shirt was almost comically big on me, and though it helped with the chill, it still wasn’t enough.
Once settled, he took my hand again, holding it tighter than he had before. Just as his shirt swallowed me, so did the size of his palm. I tucked my free hand inside a pocket to ward off the thick chill and then stole a peek at Brando. A black thermal, similar to the one I had on, clung to his body in a way that made me jealous. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the cold. Little wonder. He diffused heat like a radiator. Blankets were optional in his arms.
He had been whistling a tune, Led Zeppelin’s “Thank You,” I thought. When he noticed me watching, he stopped the music and brought my fingers to his mouth, blowing warm air on my skin.
“You have the most beautiful skin,” he said, almost offhandedly. “Pink rose-petals, with a hint of gold.” He lifted my arm, a gap in the rustling trees allowing light to shine through. A piercing beam hit my skin straight on, and all of the veins underneath were more apparent. He took one finger and traced a blue vein from my palm to my wrist, pushing back the jacket and thermal as he did, commanding the moving blood to rush with his touch. The heat from his skin on mine left me glowing.
“I’m too pale,” I said. “I could blind someone.”
“You're my light,” he said, eyes finding mine. “Some of the other girls were talking. I overheard.”
I stiffened, knowing where this was going. I had been called many things, oddball the most prominent opinion. The habit I had of gazing at the sky, among other things, labeled me as someone other than normal.
His eyelids lowered and his eyes softened. “They were talking about how beautiful your skin is, among other things. They’re jealous. Maggie Beautiful has no female friends. It’s good that you have Violet. It’s hard for beautiful women to have and keep friends. Jealousy is a cruel creature.”
“She’s been a good friend to me,” was all I could manage. He had brought my wrist to his nose, inhaling the scent on my skin.
“My clothes smell like you now. The scent is the same—roses.” He moved my wrist to his mouth, placing a soft, warm kiss on my radial artery, over the frantic pulse there.
“This one smells like you,” I said, inhaling without thought.
“My intention. I want you to smell like me, Ballerina Girl.”
We fell silent to our own thoughts for some time, the sound of birds chirping and our shoes crunching against fallen leaves the only noises. I had noticed as we ventured around the property that he had a good sense of where we were.
“You’ve been here before?” I pulled him in a different direction, a direction that led to a path, which led us to another special place I loved to go.
“Yeah. With Elliott, your father, and your grandfather.”
I stopped, but he tugged me forward and we continued on.
“You knew my grandfather?”
He gave me a sideways glance, the look on his face indiscernible. “I’ve been around for some time. Longer than you.” He grinned at that.
“Did you hunt when you came?”
“No, we fished the lake.”
“Good,” I said with more passion than I had intended.
“Good?” He copied the word but not the tone. He just sounded curious.
“I don’t condone the killing of deer.” I held my free hand up. “Before you start, I know, I know, we have to kill to eat. God gave us those animals to nourish us. It’s not a sin