Intimate Intuition Page 13

  “It’s not like I needed any more, though.”

  I’m laughing into the phone. “You’re right about that. Just more of you to love.” I laugh again and then realize what I said when the line goes completely silent. “Dara…”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m just, a little hormonal right now and tired. I should go to bed.”

  Not wanting to stop hearing her voice, I scramble to get out anything I can that will make her keep talking to me. “When can I see you and the bean?”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea right now.”

  “Dara. I need to see you healthy and alive.” I close my eyes and grit my teeth.

  “Oh. Yeah. Okay. I’m sorry. How about you come to meditation on Saturday?”

  “That’s five days away.” I regret it instantly.

  “It’s better than nothing.”

  “You’re right. Meditation on Saturday morning. Take care of yourself. And feel free to call and talk to me about anything,” I offer, wanting her to take me up on it.

  “I will,” she says rather stiffly, meaning she definitely won’t. Still, I have to take what I can get right now. Earn my place in her life. Heal the hurt I’ve caused with my actions.

  “Good night, Dara. Sleep well.”

  “You too, Si. Sweet dreams.”

  If I dream of her, they will be sweet.

  Chapter Eleven

  Couples driven by the third eye chakra tend to be very self-aware. They know their own problems and don’t deny they exist. They simply are. A couple will use self-realization to work together toward self-perfection. This allows each person to give freely of themselves to the other. Since they often have a spiritual and psychic harmony, they are one another’s best resource for problem solving.

  DARA

  Please come at 7:00 a.m. before the 8:00 class. I want to work with you privately.

  I send the message to Silas Friday evening. Today, I spent the day hunting down the perfect item to help him find peace amongst all of the distractions his mind is dealing with.

  Namely…

  His wife.

  His daughter.

  Me.

  Our baby.

  Not to mention I’m sure he has a whole host of other things to worry about as the CEO and primary shareholder of Knight & Day Productions. I hold up the mala prayer beads I bought. A hundred and eight in total. Each bead is about the size of a large pea and slightly different in color. The strand I own is primarily made of wood and turquoise, a teal silk tassel hanging at the end. I’ve had it blessed by a Buddhist monk, and today, I bought a set of beads to assist with Silas’s meditation too.

  The black beads interspersed with a smoky quartz bead called to me the second I arrived in the small store. The Buddhist that runs the shop offers a variety of meditation tools, and when I came in today, he already knew what I was looking for. Strangely enough. He led me right over to the mala beads and left me alone to finger them individually and feel their energy. When I got to the black one I hold in my hand now, an image of Silas sitting in my room at Lotus House came to me so clearly, I knew they were the ones.

  Together the shop owner and I put our combined energy into them, blessing them the only way I know how, by giving love and extending loving energy into them while I held the strand. Silas will have to set his own intention through his meditation practice, but this is another step in the right direction.

  I just hope he won’t think the gift silly or strange. Something inside me encouraged the purchase. It was all I could think about when I woke this morning. With that type of energy spilling from every pore, I couldn’t deny the compulsion.

  Now I sit in my room on my bed, holding my own meditation beads as I breathe deeply, set my intention, which is to help Silas heal, and let everything else go.

  * * *

  Silas is waiting by his car when I exit the bakery the next morning. “Hey, how are you?” His eyes scan me from head to toe and then stop at my belly. I haven’t gotten any bigger yet, so I’m not sure what he’s looking at.

  “Good. Baby’s fine.”

  He takes a full breath when I mention our child growing inside me. He hangs his head and then glances at me when I start to walk.

  “Why are you at the bakery so early? I thought you gave over the mornings to Ricardo?”

  I smile shyly, appreciating that he paid close attention to our conversation a few days ago. “I live in the apartment above the bakery.”

  He smiles widely. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s cool. You live where you love to work. And then, of course, you’re right next door to your other passion.”

  “Perfect setup. Though I’ll have to figure out what I’m going to do when the baby comes.”

  He frowns but continues to follow me in. I unlock the door and, since I’m the first one in, head over to the alarm panel and press the buttons, turning off the alarm. I keep the door locked because it’s safer, and I don’t want anyone intruding on our meditation session. Besides, Luna will be in within the hour anyway.

  “Why? What’s wrong with your apartment?”

  “Nothing. It’s just small. Eventually, the baby and I will outgrow it. There’s not a lot of room to put a crib, but I’ll probably get a bassinet for the first few months.”

  He grabs on to my arm. “Um, don’t do that.”

  I stop and turn toward him. “Do what?”

  “Get a bassinet.” His voice changes, lowers. “I, uh, have one.”

  My shoulders fall. “Silas, we’re not using something you bought for your daughter.”

  He shakes his head, takes a deep breath, and lets it out. “The bassinet I have is the one my grandmother made for my mother. She brought me and all of my siblings home from the hospital to it. I’d like for our child to have that sense of home when he or she lies down at night. It’s a family heirloom. My sisters and brothers will want to use it when they have a child too.”

  A surprising sensation comes over me. Peace. He’s thinking about our child individually but, more importantly, as part of a bigger family. “I’d like to hear more about your family.”

  “After meditation?” he asks hopefully. “I can come to Sunflower.”

  I chuckle. “Well, I teach my normal class after, but if you want to wait around, we could.”

  “Absolutely.” His matter-of-fact response sends me smiling.

  “Okay. Please take a seat wherever you feel most comfortable.”

  “Where are you going to be?”

  “Why?”

  “Because wherever you are is where I’m most comfortable.”

  His eyes are a brilliant green, his aura filled with honesty and light. The man is pouring his emotions out, and he doesn’t even know it. I’ll have to let him in on my little, somewhat rather well-known secret. At least in this community, I’m known for being the resident aura reader.

  “Place two mats side by side on the riser there.” I point to my regular location and then head for the candles and music. I set the mood and then dig through my bag for my gift.

  Silas is sitting cross-legged, all in white, a V-neck T-shirt and white sweats. His brown-sugar-colored skin looks positively edible in this light. Finding what I need, I pull out the silk-wrapped item and take my place in lotus position in front of him.

  “I’ve got something for you.” I hand him the parcel.

  He unfolds the indigo silk until the prayer bead necklace is showing, gleaming in its ebony glory. Silas holds it up to the light, and the smoky quartz catches a ray of light and sparkles against his shirt.

  “What is it?”

  “These are mala prayer beads. They are traditionally used in the Buddhist faith but more often to assist with meditation.”

  He fingers a bead. “How do they work?”

  I take the ones I have around my neck and place them in my hands, letting the strands spill through my fingers.

  “We’re going to start with you closing your eyes and breathin
g the way I taught you before. In for five, hold at the top of the breath, out for five, release all the air and repeat.”

  Silas closes his eyes dutifully, and it gives me such pride. His energy seems positive, his aura glowing a brilliant yellow like it usually does when he’s happy and his body language relaxed. He’s not at all taken aback by this unique gift. Seeing him open to new things is refreshing.

  “Now that you’re relaxed, allow the beads to slip through your fingers as though you are connecting them to you and your energy. Imagine your energy filling up each bead with light. While you are doing this, I want you to state your intention to the beads…” Before I can say “silently,” he blurts his intention out loud.

  “Forgiveness.”

  The single word smashes into my heart along with a wave of guilt. This poor man has suffered so much loss, and here he sits before me, wanting to be a part of his unborn child’s life. Still trying to find forgiveness for losing his family.

  Needing to be close to him, to share in this moment, I shimmy my booty closer, making sure our knees touch. He opens his eyes the second our knees make contact.

  “Close your eyes.” I smile but lay my hands over his thighs, grounding him in this moment.

  “Visualize each bead you turn with your thumb and middle finger as if you are receiving forgiveness and letting go of negative thoughts.”

  I watch as he spins each bead and then moves on to the next.

  While he’s doing this, I lean over and flick on the music. “We’re going to chant together. But first, I’m going to explain what each word means so that you have a deeper connection to it. We’re going to do the Om Nahma Shivaya chant we did the last time. You seemed to enjoy that one.”

  He smiles and nods but doesn’t speak or open his eyes. Good, he’s getting into the zone he needs to be in.

  “Om is the sound of our transcendent eternal God, the universe, all things. You say the word long enough to feel it resonate in your throat and into your heart.”

  Na is the earth.

  Ma is water.

  Shi is fire.

  Va is air.

  And Ya, is the ether or absolute conscience.

  “When you say them together, Om Nahma Shivaya, you are essentially offering up a prayer of sorts, stating you want to be one with the universe and all things, until eventually, you find the place in your mediation where you are enlightened. Now let’s chant together. After each utterance of the chant, send your energy into the beads along with your intention. On the next chant, turn the next bead.”

  Together we sit, chanting, sending energy out into the universe and our beads and letting our intentions shine, until the music runs out. The CD runs for forty-five minutes. At the end of our session, Silas is rocking along with his chant, continuing to whisper the phrase even without the music. He’s in the sweet spot, and I’d love to keep him there, but I have to start the next class.

  Shifting my hand from his thighs, I cup his cheeks and press our foreheads together. The second our foreheads touch, a shimmer of rainbow light sparks around the both of us, our auras and energy merging into one.

  His eyes flash open, and he cups my neck, keeping me close. “Thank you. For this gift. For everything.”

  I’m so overrun with emotion all I can offer is a nod. Our gazes hold one another’s for what seems like eternity, neither moving nor speaking, just being with one another in this safe space.

  Until the door opens and the first of my clients enters.

  The spell is broken.

  * * *

  I expected Silas to leave when the class filled up. He didn’t. Instead, he sat off to the side of the riser, his back against a mirrored wall, two bolsters under each knee, and closed his eyes. He used his beads and meditated for the entire next hour, following along and going back into his safe space. I wanted to clap and cheer. Meditation is not easy for the most spiritual of individuals. Turning off the monkey mind and getting into the right headspace, letting go, is hard to do. For someone like Silas, who has so much tragedy to wade through, I’m happily surprised he was able to go so deep unassisted.

  When the class is over, he stands and holds up my bag for me while I put my things in, put on my hoodie, and reach out for it.

  He shakes his head. “I’ll hold it. What do you have in there?” He lifts the bag up and down, gauging its weight.

  I chuckle. “Books.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I carry around my pregnancy guide, a journal in case I want to write something I’m thinking or feeling, my Kindle in case I get bored, and my daily meditation. Plus, of course, all the other stuff women carry around.”

  He frowns. “Women carry around too much baggage.”

  I snort-laugh. “Says the man who did two hours of meditation class today.”

  “Touché.”

  Seeing his beautiful grin lights up my day. I smile and look down.

  Silas reaches for my hand and twines our fingers. “I need to touch you.”

  “’K,” I say without further comment. He squeezes my fingers in what I can only assume is thanks as he leads me down the hall, out the doors, and to the bakery.

  “Is your, uh, mom here today?” He bites down on his lip and focuses on the road.

  “No. She doesn’t usually come on Saturdays, preferring to spend the time with my dad. It was a fluke she was here last week.”

  He nods. “Ricardo?”

  “Yep. He comes most days. He has as much vested in this bakery as I do.”

  Silas clenches his jaw, and a muscle ticks at the side. His aura starts to glimmer with a little red anger.

  I stop him before we enter. “Hey, just so you know. There’s nothing but deep friendship between Ricardo and me. He’s my best friend. When we met, we tried to be more…”

  Silas pulls me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me. When he said he wanted to be close, I guess that meant full frontal touch. “Continue,” he growls, as if it’s physically hurting him to hear me talk about my past with Ricky.

  I loop my arms around his body, resting my hands above his ass and looking up into his piercing green eyes. “We kissed, freshman year of high school. It was gross. We both knew from that day on we’d be nothing but best friends. Besides, he’s mostly gay.”

  “Mostly?” He cocks an eyebrow.

  Giving him a cheesy smile and a shrug within his embrace, I add, “His words, not mine. I don’t think he’s been with a woman in years, but he says he’s still attracted to them. He’s just more attracted to men. He’s got a thing about labels.”

  Silas nods, brings his head down, and presses his lips to mine. “As long as he’s clear that your kisses are mine now, we’ll be cool.”

  “Is that right? You’re claiming my mouth?” I smile, loving this but not wanting to push.

  He grins wickedly. “And everything connected to it.” His words are like Fourth of July and Christmas rolled into one. They’re everything I want to hear. Still, I’m not sure he’s fully capable of giving me all of himself.

  “Is this your way of saying we’re together together?” I mutter around the question I’ve wanted to know but was too afraid to ask.

  “Dara, you’re carrying my baby.” His words are said with a tone that might as well have said, “Duh.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Lots of women have baby daddies as well as have babies on their own…” I start.

  He presses a finger to my lips, cutting off my next phrase.

  “Not my baby mama. My son or daughter is getting a family. It may take time, and I know I’ve got some demons to work through, but it doesn’t change that I’m connected to you. Shit, Dara. Every time I see you, I’m destroyed all over again by your beauty, by your soul. You’re everything I could ever want… I just need to set the part of my heart Sarah owned free. I’m working on that. It doesn’t mean there isn’t room for you and our baby.”

  “Si…” My voice catches.

  “We went about this backward,
sweetheart, but it’s happening sooner rather than later. Let’s just feel it out, okay? Prepare for our baby and figure out the nuances as we go.”

  “One step at a time?” I blink up at his firm jaw, perfect wideset pale-green eyes, and excellent bone structure.

  “Exactly.”

  “I can do that. Starting with feeding you another treat, which will be the best thing you’ve ever put in your mouth.”

  He shakes his head. “Girl, I already told you, nothing tastes better than you. That cinnamon roll, though, was a close second.”

  I laugh out loud as he holds the door open for me.

  “After you, my sweet,” he says.

  “Now I’m your sweet?”

  “Babe, you smell and taste like powdered sugar and honey.” He rubs up close to my back. “I won’t even get into what you smell and taste like in other places. But I can attest to your sweetness being all over.”

  I fan my face. “Lordy. You need to shut that mouth, or I’ll be taking you to my apartment, not a table in the corner.”

  “Woman, don’t threaten me with a good time.” His eyes spark with mirth and a lot more with desire. I’m sure my own are no better.

  “Sit down and behave.” I point to a seat.

  “Yes, my queen.” He uses the endearment he’s called me a couple times before. If I’m honest, it’s my favorite one, but I’d never admit it to him.

  Once he’s settled, I hit the display case and shoot a smile to Ricky. He gestures to Silas and gives me a thumbs-up only I can see behind the counter. I give him one back but motion to keep it on the down-low. He nods and grins, going back to assisting the next customer.

  Pulling out the trays, I select another cinnamon bun because I know Silas loves that and I appreciate the memory of him swirling his tongue around my fingers. Then I add in an éclair, a chocolate-dipped cookie, a couple Danish, and a pumpkin cupcake. I’ve had my eye on that cupcake since I made the batch last night.

  I practically drool as I maneuver around the display. Before I get far, Ricky calls me. “Latte for your man, large decaf latte for you, sugar pie!”