Love and Death in Blue Lake (10 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Harrison

Tags: #Contemporary,Second Chance Love,Small Town

BOOK: Love and Death in Blue Lake
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She trudged up to film the end of the party. Daniel had trusted her to do a job, and she would do it right. Damn, sometimes doing the right thing sucked.

****

Desire drummed an uneven pulse at the back of her throat as Courtney hopped into the cab of Eddie’s truck. He turned the key as longing tapped out a loud beat. They drove the road to the river. Want burned into need, burned itself like a brand into her heart. I need you, Edward. Forget tattoos on skin, these words were engraved by fire on her soul. Their world of two, when they made it to the river, brimmed with luminous promise.

Once inside the glass house, Courtney placed herself inside Edward’s careful kiss. Yes, she silently said. I want this. They hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the reunion, but then, no words were necessary. Their bodies told the story with every step up the staircase. This was not attraction, this was adoration. She remembered the countless cherished moments of their past and allowed her true love to slip her dress from her shoulders.

The island of privacy Edward’s loft afforded made her feel like she used to feel. Safe. Cared for. Protected. She hadn’t realized before this moment that an area of this glass house was plastered and painted like a shrine to deeply private love. Edward’s mouth grazed her shoulders, easing her dress and his lips lower. Finally, as her dress fluttered to the floor, she braved a peek into his eyes. There she saw a promise of sweet connection. This was something they’d known before, now studded with fresh treasure. That greedy need for skin on skin set her head spinning, her heart thumping. As his hands ran over her body, her mind melted into a blank slate of wonderful.

His mouth imprinted heat as he took sexy pleasure in her neck, her lips, her breasts. She arched her back, pressed against him. By some magic he’d got them both naked even while she had clung so fiercely to him. He swept her up and into his arms, and for a moment she was suspended in primal air. She forgot to breath until he settled her on his bed. This connection went soul deep. She was never more sure of anything in her life.

He floated above her, a luminous presence. His caresses continued, hands leading mouth, leaving a glowing trail of grace. His actions spoke more than a million words and she returned every gesture with one of her own. He let out a low sound when she curled her hand around him, slowly parting her fingers into a V and taking her fingers to the root of him. In joyful harmony, their bellies built fires. As fires do, one leapt to the next, connecting them through elements as old as time.

She knew this dance, had never forgotten the deeply treasured steps. Then he reached across her belly and opened a drawer at the bedside. She heard a crinkle and took the foil from his hand. Grinning like a pirate, she tore open the condom with her teeth. She smoothed the casing over him, then guided him inside. A moan of satisfaction escaped her. He was hers now. As proof, the gleam and slick essence led them from slow, measured motion into impossible unstoppable urgency. She opened her knees wide to greet Edward exploding inside her.

Edward collapsed on top of her; thoughts began to wander in. Let them come. She had nothing to hide, nothing to fear. She had only to look at the truth, straight on. It had never been like this with anyone else. Ever. How had she forgotten? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was he keep kissing her. Everywhere. That’s when she realized he’d started again and also the moment all thought once again fled.

Edward let out a rumble that sounded like triumph. He looked down at her and laughed. She laughed back, yes, it was real, truly them, together again. Funny how time caught up with them. How it wound around them until they snapped into an easeful encore. They’d caught and held fast their particular rhythm after all this time apart. And this time, she’d do whatever it took. She’d never let him go. Not ever again.

Again her man draped himself over her as random thoughts of what time it was, where she had to be soon, drifted across the sky of her mind. Then Edward rubbed his stubbled jaw across her cheek and she shivered. Edward, I still love you, she said, but only in her head. He noticed her shiver and lifted himself off her, standing next to the bed, tucking her into a soft blanket.

“Warmer now?”

Edward’s blood ran hot. It always had. He slept with windows open in the winter, and this was northern Michigan. Despite the blanket, she felt a chill. She didn’t want to admit—not yet—that this would be no easy dream, no smooth coming together again. Yet he was her husband. She had never stopped loving him. She was at this moment in love with him. In her body, in her head, it was all Edward. Couldn’t he see? Didn’t he know? She yearned for him to say he loved her, too. “I’ve missed you without knowing it all these years.” The realization that this time she had said the words aloud broke over her.

He stayed silent. Turned away.

Is it possible he doesn’t love me the same way? Stuff had happened in the intervening years. He was able to flirt, get her into his bed, emotionally engage her, wow her with unabashed awesome sex, but perhaps true intimacy was no longer in his repertoire. She’d met guys like that in L.A. Hell, in L.A. every guy was like that. She let the silence stretch until she felt uncomfortable. “Why did you bring me here?”

He didn’t answer, and her chill grew more pronounced.

Was this whole night, this entire weekend, an elaborate ruse just to get back at her for running out on him? Or was there another reason? Or was she being silly? Was everything just fine? Where her mind had been on vacation while they made love, now it raced in ten directions at once.

“For this, silly.” He turned for one brief moment and kissed her on the forehead, then disappeared into the closed off area of the loft. She heard water running. Ah, the shower. Washing her off. Fine. She’d lay in his bed and figure this out, and then she’d go pick up Ruby. She and Edward might be okay, or they might have their break up all over again. Was she panicking for no reason? The problem for her was that she couldn’t do without him now. Even if that’s all it was for him, a bit of fun, a trip down memory lane sans clothing, she couldn’t raise any anger. If he had been playing her, maybe she deserved it. She’d left. She’d hurt him. She was also cheating on Xander. For the first time, she felt shame wash over her and hook into her heart.

Edward and the pregnancy. He had pretended not to care, but maybe he did. As he took the longest shower in history, she made up story after story about why they couldn’t just go back to how good things had been. They had eighteen years to clean up. Messy ones. That was why. Her pregnancy was unexpected but not unwanted. Still, at her age, searching for the happy family myth. She saw plenty of evidence of happy families here in Blue Lake. Her feelings tore back and forth, California, her clients in whom she’d invested so much, in whom she hoped for so much, and then herself, here, and what she wanted for her baby. For Ruby. It was not Xander.

Would Xander fight for parental rights? She didn’t think so. His attachment to his wife was still too strong, as much as he denied it. He said he wanted to marry her, but she knew the deep ambivalence within him. He had been her mentor, and she had surpassed him in income long ago. Now he lived to support a wife he did not love and keep a house he did not live in.

Xander could not afford another child. He could not afford her. But if they married, he would have access to her wealth. Her parents had money as well. All around, this was a sweet deal for Xander. Except—maybe he still loved his wife. He’d never once acted like she was a pain, a problem. Well then, let him go back to her. Let Courtney raise her baby alone, as she’d raised Ruby.

As much as she hated it, she realized she was justifying what she and Edward had just done. Was it wrong? Where was the book that would tell her if cheating on her lover with her husband was morally repugnant? Okay, there wasn’t such a book. Probably not even a blog. But what about ethics? Her own sense of ethics reminded her that she should have broken off one relationship before she took up another. That was the truth, and she had ignored it.

A Beatles song drifted out from the closed off section of the loft. An old song about love. If she loved Xander, she would not hesitate to share everything she owned. But she
had
shared. For years now. Waiting for him to divorce, waiting to be a real family. And they’d never even talked about it until she’d been late, bought a test, found out she was pregnant. That changed everything. Somehow, Xander had been revitalized. He had begun to make immediate plans. He had taken her ring size and kissed her belly. He ignored his wife’s calls more often than not. And he asked her to divorce Edward and marry him.

She sighed. She’d been carried away too. Her life’s dream, in front of her for the taking. She took it. And now she wanted to thrust it back and revise that old and shopworn dream. She could dream a better dream now. Here. Instead of helping rich women find their bliss, she could help addicts find their sobriety. Help women accept or let go of their sexually ambivalent husbands. She could help troubled teenagers and young adults find a better path after abuse and violence at home or school. And she’d make herself a better path too. With or without Edward.

Someone banged on the glass door. She slipped on Edward’s black T-shirt. It came almost to her knees. She sat up as he came out of the sanctuary.

“Someone’s at your door.”

“I hear.”

“May I use your shower?”

Edward took in her garment with one long look up and down her body. “Sure.”

Then they both heard the voice yelling her name.

Edward opened a drawer and handed her a pair of clean boxers. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

Xander.

“I’m not going down there without you.”

So she put on the ludicrously baggy boxers and followed Edward down the stairs, holding the elastic around the waist so her pants would not fall on the ground, trip her, and launch her in a dramatic fall down the stairs. She curled into a corner of the sofa as Edward opened the door.

Xander walked in. “Don’t you believe in doorbells?”

Edward sat down right next to her. Xander paced. In her mind, she was in bed with Edward the way it should have been. She had one hand on his heart. She loved his chest, bare and bronze. Xander’s voice, his gray tufts of chest hair escaping from his golf shirt, interfered with her lovely daydream.

“What the hell is going on, Courtney? A final fling?” Funny what he chose to say first. Funny how the situation inside the house with no bell was second on his mind. He seemed more agitated than angry.

“I don’t have a bell because I don’t entertain guests. Until you all came to town.”

For some reason this sparked Xander’s anger. Edward’s tone, his lack of apology or embarrassment. Courtney’s stomach pitched as if she really were falling down the stairs.

****

Eddie didn’t like it, not any of it. Yes, he loved Courtney in some crazy complicated way, but this was his house for one, and it had felt overly populated ever since she’d come to town.

“Let’s settle things right now. The three of us.” Xander. Voice of reason. Big shot professor.

Eddie didn’t offer anyone a drink. He was done being the polite host. He did not want this guy here. But Courtney was here, and she was reaching for his hand. He took it and sat next to her, tucking her hand into his lap. “She’s my wife.” She didn’t feel like his wife, but he felt her need of him, and he could not deny her. He had never been able to do that. What kind of a name was Xander anyway? What was wrong with Alex?

Xander tried to embrace Courtney, to lift her off the sofa and away from Eddie but the two held firm. Eddie felt a moment’s hot shame. He’d gone after Courtney and then when he’d found out about the baby he’d balked. Just like before. He put his other hand on top of hers. Enclosing her hand in both of his. Sending her messages he didn’t quite understand.

Xander stood in the middle of the big room, hands at his sides. Suddenly he dropped to one knee, in front of Courtney, and took a ring box from his pocket. “I love you, Courtney. I don’t deserve you. But would you please do me the honor of being my wife?”

“Don’t you have one of those? A wife? Because this one’s mine.” Eddie couldn’t resist. And he did not release Courtney’s hand. Unfortunately it was not the hand an engagement ring traditionally appeared on. Before a stunned-looking Courtney could answer, Xander had grabbed her other hand and shoved the ring on her finger. Perfect fit. Huge stone. Not the kind of ring people around here wore, no matter how much money they had. Sucker was the size of a quarter.

Courtney looked into Eddie’s eyes, hers filled with panic. Then she slowly took her hand away from his. She slid the ring off her finger and tucked it back into the box Xander still held. “No, dear. I’m sorry.”

Eddie breathed relief.

“Does he—” Xander spat. “Know about the baby?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.” He felt Court snake an arm around his, entwining them.

Xander awkwardly rose to his feet.

“I’m not coming home, Xander. I’m staying here.”

“But I cut my golf weekend short to do this thing.” He lifted the ring box that clung limp in his hand.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Our baby.”

“There is no baby.”

This was a surprise to Eddie. Courtney had never been able to lie convincingly but Xander seemed to believe her despite the fact that she was biting her bottom lip and her foot was beating time like a metronome.

“What?”

“Spontaneous abortion. Happens all the time.” She shrugged, and real tears fell from her eyes. What the hell? Had she really lost the baby?

****

Sunday morning, Eddie drove to the bar early. He had a stop to make before doing the breakfast thing for the tourists. Best damn Bloody Marys in town, mimosas for the dainty ladies, as well as bacon, sausage, eggs, hash browns, and toast. Rye or sourdough, those were the choices. He baked sausage and bacon in the oven, did up an industrial pan of scrambled eggs, and used shredded raw potatoes prepped by staff the day before, which he spread out on the oiled grill to let them crisp. Still, there was a lot to do to get that mess plated, and he was glad of it.

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