Save Me: A dark romantic thriller (Novel) (17 page)

“Yes. Quite a few, actually. Can’t say that I don’t.”

“Do they ever hit on you?”

Boy is she suddenly becoming personal
.

“On occasion. But not as often as you’d think. Most of the women that come into the store are either married, elderly, or too young for me.” He thought about Sarah, how infuriated she’d be if she knew he had yet to acknowledge her existence.

“What kind of girls are you attracted to?”

“Smart and engaging.”

“Hmn. That’s very intriguing. I thought you were going to say you either like blondes or brunettes. Or chicks with long legs and big boobs.” Perhaps without realizing it, Ashley had essentially described herself.

“Nah. I’m not trivial like most guys.” Troy had come from a family that had trained him, above anything else, to search for beauty in a person’s personality.

“Smart, huh?”

“Yep.”

Ashley batted her eyelashes.

“Then I’d better start reading more books,” she kidded. “I don’t want you to think I’m a dim-wit.”

“Awe, I would never think that. As far as I’m concerned, you’re really smart. And extremely creative.” He tried not to be turned on by the way Ashley moved around the tennis court. After what had happened to her, it felt wrong to be viewing her in a sexual manner.

“Hey Troy!”

“What?”

“Are you a beach person?”

“Of course. I love the beach. I’ve been meaning to go this year.”

“Me too. Hey, if you want, we could go together.” Now she strolled over to the sideline, where there was a bench, to get a sip of orange Gatorade.

Troy followed. “Sure. I’ll head over to the shore with you. Which beach do you prefer?”

“Pleasant Point, you ever go there?”

He nodded. “Yes. Been there a bunch of times. Not in a few years though. I usually go to Seaside.”

Ashley sat down to catch a well-deserved breather.

“Well, normally, I’d want to go to Seaside too, except that is more of a party beach, and I was thinking maybe we could bring the baby.”

“Cool. That works for me.” Troy sat down as well and then bent over to tighten his shoelaces. “When do you feel like going?”

“How about Sunday?”

“Perfect.” He was off that day and did not attend church with any regularity.

“Awesome!” Ashley drank more of the cold Gatorade. “I’ll drive. Also, Troy, I’d like to get an early start, to try and beat the traffic.” Pleasant Point was north of their area, an hour away.

“How early is early?”

“Like when the roosters roll out of the barn.”

“Okay. I can handle that.”

“Good.” She grinned mischievously. “So it’s another date.”

“Right.” He hesitated. “Another date.”

***

That night Ashley could not sleep.

She lay in bed, hugging her pillow, while thinking of Troy.

Spending time with him had been refreshing. Troy had made Ashley feel at ease. Excited, she could not wait to go to the beach with him. Once there, she planned to be more open, more trusting.

In the wee hours on Sunday morning, thunderstorms rumbled through town. Yet, by the time the sun had sprouted, the skies had cleared and Ashley already had her car packed for the coast.

She, Troy, and the baby arrived at the beach in Pleasant Point at nine-thirty.

“I’m so happy the rain moved off,” Ashley remarked, while pulling her Toyota into a crammed parking lot. The sign on the white ticket booth advertised that it cost $15.00 to leave your vehicle here. A tanned surfer with zinc oxide under his eyes stood collecting the money. His board leaned against the ticket booth.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay half?” Troy asked, reaching for his wallet.

“No. I told you, I‘ll pay for parking and for the beach badges too. You can take care of dinner.”

“Okay. I can handle that.”

After they unloaded the car, they hit the sand. Along the boardwalk, digital sounds reverberated from the arcades. Ashley and Troy could also smell, from the snack bars, hot dogs and hamburgers.

“Holy crap!” Troy commented, gazing at the seemingly endless throng of sunbathers, who, like he and Ashley, all seemed to have umbrellas. “I knew there would be a lot of people here, but this is insane.” He had been given the task of carrying the beach chairs, the cold thermos and the cooler.

“Hey,” said Ashley, now kicking off her flip-flops, “just look at it this way, if we would have gone to Seaside the crowd would have been bigger than this.” The blinding sun made her dark shades twinkle.

“That’s true.”

“I guess the ocean must be warm if there are that many people swimming.”

“Must be. Look at that fat guy on the raft.”

“It looks like it is barely holding him up. Huh hah!”

“That’s funny. What a character.”

Although it took a bit of time, Ashley eventually located a vacant spot near the salty sea where they could be settled. The small waves crashed soothingly ashore.

“Let’s set up the umbrella here,” she suggested, dropping her towel, flip-flops, lotion, and knapsack. Kimberly clung to Ashley’s neck and shoulders like a panda bear. The baby had on her cute droopy hat. “I know it’s close to the water, but I don’t see anywhere else we could sit.”

“This is fine. I don‘t mind being close to the water. We get more of a breeze down here.” Troy, clothed in green trunks, removed his shirt- he had six-pack abs- and wasted no time in coating his chiseled body with globs of Hawaiian Tropic.

Ashley couldn’t have asked for a more enjoyable day. The balmy temperature. Impressive sunshine. Soon, when the mood became suitable, not only did she intend to open up to Troy regarding her fears and desires, she also planned to ask if he would make known what had gone amiss between him and his ex. Naomi Cartwright. She wanted to know so she could avoid making the same mistake.

***

It wasn’t long before the baby started to cry.

“Awe. Kimberly do want some juice?” Ashley said. “Here Troy. Could you hold her for a minute while I get her bottle?”

“Sure.”

“Have you ever held a baby before?”

“Many times. Especially somewhat recently with my sister’s kid.”

“Okay. Here. Be careful.” Attired in a polka dot bikini, which revealed her fabulous curves, Ashley placed the child in Troy’s awaiting arms.

“Come here, Cutie.”

“You got her?”

“Yep.” Troy wondered why Ashley didn’t breast feed. Yet, he was relieved that she didn’t. He did not think he would be able to handle it if she were to whip out her boob, in the presence of thousands of roving eyes. “What’s that you’re feeding her?”

“Apple juice.”

“Whoa! Look at her go. She loves it.”

“I know. The heat must be making her thirsty.”

“What about you, Ashley, I know we basically just got here, but do you feel like eating lunch early? I’m starving. That bagel that we got at Duncan Donuts on the way over must have already metabolized.”

She giggled. “Why not. I’m kind of hungry myself.”

They had chicken salad sandwiches, with lettuce, on poppy seed rolls.

“Wow! Look at this,” Troy said, biting into his sandwich. “You even have deviled eggs, potato chips, sliced watermelon, and cantaloupe. This is awesome! I’m gonna eat like a king.”

“How’s the chicken salad?”

“Yum! Excellent. Just the right amount of mayonnaise.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

Troy leaned back in his chair, while gazing at a boat that passed close to shore. “Ahhh. This is so relaxing.”

“It is,” Ashley agreed, munching on her own sandwich. “I’ve wanted to get out like this for a long time. Sometimes I get claustrophobic being cooped up in my studio all the time. And working at the bakery doesn’t offer much in the way of relief.”

***

After lunch, they took the baby down to the water. The Atlantic was as mild as a bathtub. The creamy surf fizzed over their bare feet like Alka-Seltzer.

“Should we show Kimberly how to collect shells?” Ashley asked. With them, they had a plastic pail.

“Definitely. Let’s go.”

For an hour, they strolled up and down the sand. During that time, Ashley smiled nonstop. The way Troy was behaving toward the baby electrified her heart. His compassionate nature reminded her so much of Peter.

“Troy, my daughter loves you. You really have a way with children.”

***

As hard as he tried not to stare, Troy could not get over how good Ashley looked in her bikini. Particularly the way the beads of perspiration would trickle from her breasts down to her navel.

Then his annoying inner voice again, like on the tennis court, counseled him to not view her in a sexual way,
Troy, cut it out! How can you even think of her like that? Don’t you get it, because she was raped, Ashley probably won’t want to have sex with anyone for a long time? If ever! So show some respect and stop thinking with that thing in your pants, and start thinking with your head.

“Am I getting tan?” she inquired, examining her arms, abs, and curvy legs that were glossy with the tropical-scented lotion.

“Kind of, yeah. You look like a beach bunny.”
Probably not the best choice of words
, his conscience continued to scold.
I’m telling you, you had better watch what you say, or else you might make her angry.

As if sensing his conflicting thoughts, Ashley folded her arms, concealing her ample cleavage. “Hey Troy, can I ask you something?”

“Sure. Fire away. “

“Do you find my mother attractive?”

Huh
? This unforeseen question threw Troy’s mood out of sync. “Your mom?”

“Yes. I realize she’s getting up there in age, but she still has a rocking body. I know you must have noticed.”

He was taken aback. Troy had never looked at Claire Whittaker the way her daughter had just described. He decided this must have been a test.

“You’re mother is a fine person,” he answered. “But really, I don’t look at her the way I look at women closer to my age.”

“You do like her though, correct?”

“Absolutely. She’s very polite and she cares about you an awful lot.”

For the remainder of the afternoon, they took turns swimming, and then laid in the sun, trying to acquire the ideal tan, while Kimberly stayed in the shade of the umbrella playing with the shells in her pail.

By four-thirty, as Ashley sat up to put more lotion on; she finally persuaded Troy to divulge more about what had destroyed his relationship with Naomi. The first thing she had learned was that he and his former Fiancée had broken up two years ago.

“I never saw it coming,” Troy announced in a downcast tone, while shaking his head. “Naomi meant everything to me. Those years we were together, I thought she was so perfect. So innocent. The girl I was meant to be with forever.” He thrust a troubled hand through his brown, sun-highlighted hair. “Or so I was led to believe.”

“Why, what happened?”

“She left me. Even though I cared about her more than I had ever loved anyone in my life.”

“I don’t get it,” Ashley said. “If you loved this woman so much, why did she leave you? It doesn’t make sense.”

His expression became glum. “My theory is in the long run Naomi finally realized I would never be able to give her what she wanted. Her dream was to live on a big farm out west. How was I supposed to provide her with that? I’m just some middleclass guy who works at a supermarket.”

“Just out of curiosity, how big a farm are we talking?”

He frowned. “Huge! Acres upon acres. Naomi wanted to be able to go horse back riding without having to worry about bumping into someone else’s property.”

Ashley rolled her eyes contemptuously. “Why was she so fixated on one day living on a farm?”

Troy told her about Naomi’s job.

“Oh. Okay. At least that makes the picture a little bit clearer. Not that I’m siding with her . . . Whose horses did she take care of?”

“Mainly jockeys,” he explained, “and people who didn’t have the land to house the horses themselves.” Somewhat grudgingly, Troy then proceeded to narrate the story of Earl Lowry, how the macho cowboy had come to town and in no time at all had seduced his fiancé.

Ashley could feel Troy‘s suffering. His sensitivity is what drew her to him. Similar to Peter, he could express his heart eloquently, yet still exuded a strong masculine side. She found the combination of the two qualities irresistible.

“And get this,” he added, “one of the last things she said to me was ‘Troy, tell me I’m making a mistake by giving up on you.’ Could you imagine that? What nerve she had. What did she think I was going to do, get down on my hands and knees and beg her to stay?”

Ashley thought she spied a tear in his eye.

“After your old girlfriend ran off to Montana, did you ever hear from her?”

“Off and on for about a year. Naomi would phone to tell me how happy she was. To tell me how much she loved it out where she was living. ’I just love all this land we have,’ she used to brag. ’You can see for miles. Montana is so beautiful. It’s nothing like Jersey.’ And then she’d ramble on about her new man. Earl this. Earl that. He’s such a great guy. Blah. Blah. Blah. It made me nauseous to have to listen to her praise that man. Yuck! Like whom the hell was Earl Lowry anyway, the Great Messiah?”

“So basically, she‘d call to rub it in?”

“Pretty much.” He sighed, clearly communicating his displeasure. “Not on purpose though. At that point, I don’t think she knew better. She thought we could still be friends. But she was wrong. There was no way I wanted to stay in touch with her after she was married and living in another part of the country.”

Ashley did not find fault with that. After all, how could he have benefited by keeping in touch? Each time his ex. had phoned, it must have been torture.

“So you were the one who broke off contact?”

He nodded, yes.

“What’d you say to her? If you don‘t mind me asking?”