When the Heart Falls

"That's the whole point. I need to know more about books than you, just as a magician needs to know more about magic tricks than his audience.” I wave my free hand in the air as if conjuring spells.

Cade stops and pulls me toward him. "You're like a puppet master, pulling our strings with your stories."

I put on my best menacing face. "I know how to manipulate your very emotions. I can make you cry and cringe and turn red with fury. I can remake your soul."

His hands grip me harder, passion vibrating in his body. "I think you've already remade my soul, Winter."

Our kiss lingers, tender at first, a small flame fanned into building intensity.

My vision spins when he lets me go. "You sure you're not the one working magic on me?" I ask.

With tender fingers, he brushes a strand of dark hair from my eyes. "I think we're working magic on each other."

It only takes a few more minutes for us to reach the abbey entrance, and we're just in time for a guided tour where we learn a bit more about its history and get to finally see the inside. Though not as impressive as I’d imagined, its lack of spectacle is what gives it such a historic, authentic feel. It’s stone, with tall pillars and open spaces. The different architectural styles mix to form an eclectic look. Our tour guide ends up talking more about himself and his time living in England than about the abbey, so most of what I learn is from Cade, which suits me just fine. Hand in hand, we kiss often as we walk through our own fairytale setting.

After the tour, we find a shaded spot in the gardens to relax. I pull out a blanket from my backpack and spread it on the ground, and we stretch out on it.

Cade strokes my hand as he watches the clouds. "I can't believe thousands of pilgrims used to come here and still do.”

"I can.” This place feels magical with the stone buildings built against the mountains. Around us, flowers sway in the light breeze, dancing with the wind. Elegant stone columns give structure to the garden, setting us in history. It’s so old, so full of the past, that it makes my world in New York feel like an infant in comparison. The busy streets and honking horns and people everywhere… it’s so different from here. A sacred quietness lives here that, even bustling with tourists, is more peaceful than New York. “It’s beautiful. Full of mystery. I can see how people thought, and still think, that it’s a place of power.”

Cade lays out the lunch we packed, courtesy of our hotel kitchen—cold meats, fresh bread, fruit, a salad and sparkling water. With a grumbling stomach, I fill my plate with yumminess and dig in like I haven’t eaten in a week.

Cade laughs at my chipmunk cheeks full of food. “Someone’s hungry.”

I chew, swallow and grin. “Someone gave me quite a work out last night. And this morning. I need my strength if this keeps up.”

He feigns injury. “Me? I think you have it backwards, my lady. You are the one who lured me into bed with your towel clad body.”

“Only because I forgot my clothes.”

“Likely story.”

“I’m sorry, next time I’ll be sure to stay fully dressed in your presence.”

With great care he pins me to the ground, his eyes hungry and body hard against mine. “That’s not what I meant at all. In fact, if we weren’t on holy ground, and in public, I’d have you out of these clothes right now.”

If I could teleport us back to our hotel, I would, but instead I kiss him and ease out of his embrace. “But alas, we are at the mercy of our environment, and so I shall content myself with the company of my computer while you read or engage in more cloud watching.”

I flip to my stomach, laptop open, and browse through my Facebook stream while he continues to stare at the sky.

Clicking on a link, an article pops up about another one of my friends who have hit the bestseller list after self-publishing. And not just any list, the New York Times bestseller list. I whistle and scan the article.

Cade turns toward me. "Something exciting happening in your book?"

"Doing research. Which is code for wasting time on Facebook.”

"Sounds like exciting research." He moves closer to me, looking over my shoulder at the screen.

I show him the article about my friend.

"Impressive," he says. "So it sounds like this self-publishing stuff is a legit way to get your book out there. Are you going to try it?" He takes a drink of his fizzy water while I form my response.