Knots (2 page)

Had he planned that?

She sighed and settled into the back of her seat.

Mark’s hand drifted over the top of hers, and the heat was oddly electrifying.

What was her problem—getting chills at her own husband’s funeral?

“And who could forget his appetite?” the minister continued. “This boy could pack away more burgers than anyone I’ve ever seen.” He wiped away a happy tear. “But then he’d run it off and go play football, mowing everyone down.” His Tongan accent went thicker for a moment as his tears choked him up. “My son told me he would always run the other way when Kapono got on the field—that tank of a boy didn’t care who he took down. And since my boy wanted to be walking the next day, he knew to clear out. Smart boy.”

The laughter continued, and somehow it was less grating with Mark’s hand trapping hers.

After another story was shared, a few of the family members got up and spoke, including Pono’s parents.

Jeanie had refused the invitation to say anything.

How could she? They wouldn’t want to hear the truth.

When Toloa burst into tears and mentioned how happy her son had been married to their favorite haole, and how this white girl could pack it away and eat with the best of them, a lone tear finally leaked out of Jeanie’s left eye. Of
course
it was the eye closest to Mark.

God, her stomach tightened at the thought of what this man next to her must be thinking about her with how she was sitting here so stoic and empty.

“It’s my fault he’s dead,” Jeanie whispered to Mark, sounding hollow. The tension was gripping her from the inside out.

Mark squeezed her hand, and then cupped it between both of his palms. “No, it’s not.”

Jeanie’s head turned enough so that she could see him clearly. “You don’t know—I’m the one that was feeding him incessantly because it made him happy, and then I didn’t feel like such an awful wife,” she hissed as quietly as she could.

“That’s not what happened, and you know it. He loved you—he was happy. You can’t blame yourself for what he chose to do to his body.”

She blinked and then angled her head back to her mother-in-law, speaking at the pulpit.

“My fault,” Jeanie muttered, and Mark pinched her side that was almost tucked into his.

She leaned her head on his shoulder and let that stupid tear roll down the side of her face.

“Shush,” Mark told her when Jeanie opened her mouth to share more self-deprecating words. “I don’t want you even thinking that. We can talk about it later. But not here—not now.”

She sucked in some air, and it felt like a fist was shoving it down her windpipe.

If not here, then what did that say about her—a wife with no regrets?

The funeral service wrapped up with a song performed by some angelic choir consisting of Pono’s family members.

This was it. Jeanie would be alone again—no family, no place to feel welcome.

Sure, she still carried their last name of Finau, but what did that mean without Pono at her side?

“Where’s your car parked?” Mark asked her as people began to exit the chapel.

“Around the south side,” she answered.

“Leave it here. I’ll drive you to the burial. We’ll come back and get it afterward,” he said.

“But what about Tia?” She released his hand and crossed her arms over her stomach. The pit inside was eating away at her.

“She knows I’m here for you today.” His jaw flexed. “C’mon. I’m sure you’re in no condition to drive.”

Her mouth watered as she inhaled his rich, fragrant, masculine scent. Why couldn’t her husband have smelled this good?

Out of nowhere, visions assaulted her of Pono rolling into bed, stinking, sweating and messy after work. She cringed.

“Please, Jeanine,” Mark said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“Okay,” she answered softly.

He placed his palm at the center of her back and steered her out to his very expensive, very pristine, sleek black car.

She snorted.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Black. Definitely a California boy. You’d never want to have a black car in Phoenix—you’d fry your hand in the summer if you touched this thing,” she answered.

“Yeah, I remember from my college days.” He wore a lazy, amused grin.

She huffed for a second. That was the last thing she wanted to talk about.

“I . . . I wanted to make a short pit-stop on the way to the burial site,” she said, turning to him.

They stopped walking a few feet from his car.

“Whatever you need—I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

Her eyes dried out as she stood there unblinking with her mouth gaping a little. “Why?”

“Why question it? You need me right now, and I’m happy to help.” His smile shifted, and it looked like he was hiding something.

“O-kay.” She took her time walking toward his car once more.

He helped her in and asked where she wanted to go.

“Oceanside beach, please,” she answered.

He sighed, and his knuckles popped when he shifted the gear on his car. They were driving in the opposite direction of everyone else.

“I know this is . . . Well, I realize how this’ll look to them—me showing up late to the burial, missing the procession—but I have to do this,” she said, eyes pleading with him.

“I’m not one to question what a woman wants . . .”

She squirmed. What was that supposed to mean? And why did it sound so dark and alluring when he said it?

Oh no, no, no,
no
!

Her thoughts drifted to a conversation she’d had with Tia not that long ago.

Dark and alluring was what Tia called Mark behind his back.

Jeanie never shared her own title she’d made for this man—
piercing and biting
. His looks and everything he said lanced right through her heart.

Dangerous? Oh, was he ever.

She avoided him for those reasons.

And here she was, trapped in his car, driving to a beach when she should’ve been headed to the place her late husband would be laid to rest.

“Thanks for helping me get through that service,” she said, her throat constricting on her.

She cleared it and swallowed.

Why was she always such a mess around Mark? What was it about him?

“Thanks for allowing me to do that for you.” He smiled once more, and his eyes were so soft when he looked at her, she melted into her seat.

Her head drifted to the side, and she took in the sights out her window. It was better than staring at that gorgeous face and those cerulean blue eyes of his. Her light blue eyes seemed so dull compared to his vibrant, electric color. They reminded her of the beautiful ocean pictures Pono had framed and put up in their bathroom from his previous homes—Tonga and Hawaii.

Mark’s chiseled jaw and strong cheekbones reminded her of the carbon-looking ocean cliffs in those same photos.

She took in a deep breath, allowing her lungs to fill to capacity, hoping it would clear her head, but it had the opposite effect.

Inhaling his scent was doing things to her.

Her right hand was stroking her black leather seat. Had Mark ever sat over here?

Had he been intimate with other women in this car?

Oh, God, she was depraved. Why was she imagining him having sex on this very seat with someone other than Tia, his girlfriend?

Then again, why was she imagining him having sex with anyone at all?

She closed her eyes, and the vision of some nameless woman, sitting here in this seat with her legs spread, morphed and became herself.

It was Jeanie, gripping the seat as he thrust his way inside her and stared deep into her eyes with that trademark smirk he usually wore.

When she opened her eyes, he was staring, not like in her vision, but in concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Just thinking . . .”

“What about?”

“The ocean.” She ran her fingertip along the seam of her seat. “We always said we’d move here someday, but then he started saving every penny for another goal, and that dream had to wait. I’ve always liked the sound of the ocean and the feel of the spray on my face when we went sailing those few times.”

He smiled. “It’s not too late to do those things. You should move here.”

She blinked so hard, her eyes scrunched up for a second. “Yeah, I’ve been considering it. I like the idea of being closer to his family, but I worry they’ll be all over me, and I like having my space.”

“Think about it. I could help you out,” he said.

A lump slammed down in her stomach. “How?”

“However you need,” he answered.

“Would Tia be okay with that?” Her eyes narrowed a little, and her brow slanted toward the bridge of her nose.

“It’s not her call to make, but you’re welcome to check with her if you want.” He pulled out his phone and extended it to her.

She shoved his hand away. “I believe you—it’s fine.”

She pulled her hand away from the seat, since it was starting to feel OCD in nature—the way she was caressing it like an old lover.

His eyes followed her hands as she clasped them together and rested them in the center of her lap.

They arrived at the beach, and she slipped her heels off.

“I won’t be long,” she said, turning to him.

“I’m coming with you.”

Before she could protest, he was out of the car and opening her door for her, helping her out.

Once her hand was in his for assistance, it managed to stay there.

They roamed out onto the black and white marbled-looking sand.

“This is my favorite beach. I always thought the sand was so crazy here, but I loved it. Pono would joke if he looked at it too long, it would blind him.” She crossed her eyes. “Then he’d make dorky faces at me.”

“Is it hard to remember those times?” he asked.

“No, not really. It’s the good times that I remember most. What hurts is that I . . .” she trailed off.

He squeezed her hand. “Since we don’t have a lot of time, I won’t press it, but I want you to finish that thought later tonight with me.”

She nodded and stared out across the ocean.

The waves lapped at the shore, and there were a few surfers out there, silhouetted in the sun.

Her feet edged on the moist sand, and she sighed. God, it felt so good to have the cool granules gripped under her toes.

“Better?”

She sighed even louder. “Better.”

“I can tell. Your cheeks colored almost instantly, and your pupils dilated. It’s like it made you slightly high.” He chuckled.

“Oh great . . . Another issue to deal with,” she said, mocking herself.

“You don’t have any issues other than letting go.”

“Exactly—and that’s pretty damn huge.”

He exhaled, and it was loud and husky. “Jeanine, just stop. Stop doing this to yourself. You’re an amazing woman, and he knew that, his family knows it, and so do I. Stop pretending you’re anything other than wonderful.”

She swallowed down the dirty words she wanted to vomit up and then let go of his hand.

He stayed where he was, a few feet back from the shoreline, since he had on his nice dress shoes.

She roamed deeper down the beach, entranced with the sunlight sparkling off the water.

When the waves washed over her feet, she gasped.

“Oh, fuck! I always forget how cold this water is!” She yelped and jumped.

He laughed. “I’ve never heard you swear before.”

“Yeah, it’s not often it slips, but it happens when I’m surprised or angry. Pono didn’t like it, so I was constantly trying to keep from doing it,” she said, grinning and biting into her top lip, then rubbing her bottom teeth across it. “It mostly came out in the bedroom . . . Well, when things would heat up.” She turned away. Guilt crushed into her once again, more forceful than the waves pushing at her legs. Things had been anything but hot between her and Pono over the last few months. She couldn’t even recall the last time they had sex.

A few minutes later, she looked back over at Mark.

He smirked, and there was a naughty glint in his eyes. “Well, aren’t
you
full of surprises.”

She squeaked like a mouse and tucked her chin to her chest. “Why do I wind up saying inappropriate things every time I’m around you?”

He offered half a shrug, then she looked away.

“You have a habit of disarming me, too, so I don’t think I can take full blame on this one.” He took a step closer to her.

She smiled, and though her feet were frozen already from the cold water, her insides were heating at an alarming rate.

“We should probably get going. Thanks for letting me do this,” she said, making sure her skirt had stayed out of the water, and then sloshed back out of the receding wave.