The Solitude of Passion (23 page)

Mom’s car is tucked in the driveway. I bolt out of the truck and give a hard knock over the door. It swings open before I can fully release my frustration out on it.

“Where’s the fire?” Mom jumps aside as I rush on in.

“Mitch Townsend is back.” I barrel past her, looking for signs of Hudson. I’m not sure why I was hoping he’d be here. He rarely comes by. Today, though, of all days, I wouldn’t mind a little brotherly camaraderie.

“They had his remains shipped over?” Her voice softens. “Is Janice going to start a mausoleum? I hear that’s good for closure.” Her neck jets out. My mother is not really into Townsend family closure. Not after Janice blackballed her from all of Mono Bay society the rest of her natural days. Not that it was Janice’s fault at all. But that’s the world according to my mother. It’s hard to deny her a grudge once she’s claimed it.

“He’s alive.” I pound my fist over the dining room table, unsettling the crystal arranged down the center in a tremor.

“What do you mean,
alive
? They found him?”

I recount the story Lee rattled out and hardly believe a damn word spewing from my lips.

“I feel bad for the guy.” I blow out a breath. “I really do. But
fuck
—what now?”

“You think he’s coming after Lee?
Stella
?” Fire rises in my mother’s eyes, nothing but desperation and fear.

“Why wouldn’t he?” Stella and Eli come running in and tackle me at the knees. “Go get your stuff.” I tousle Stella’s hair before she takes off and wonder if my days of holding her, calling her my daughter, are numbered.

“You’ve got all the cards, Max.” My mother’s eyes struggle to dislodge themselves from her skull. “Don’t forget who’s married to Lee, who runs Townsend, who
owns
Townsend. You’re a father to that little girl.” She presses her finger into my chest. “It’s all you.”

I’m holding all the cards. Then why can’t I shake the feeling that the rug of my entire existence has already been pulled from beneath me?

Lee

The sky over Townsend vineyards is dripping with crimson, nothing but a blood red backdrop, the final curtain draping over an unordinary day. I lean against the door for a moment and lay my hand over the smooth mahogany. What is going to come of this? Mitch is back—
my
Mitch—so what does this mean for Max and me?

I pluck my phone from my pocket and put a call in to Steve—tell him to break the news gently to my sister. The last thing I need is for her to come undone, lose those precious babies from the shock of it all. I could hear Kat pawing at him in the background, demanding to know what I’m saying—wondering what threw him in such an explicative-riddled tirade. The truth is, I really need Kat right now, her wisdom—her sarcasm, but I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to those babies.

I head back inside, and Janice wraps her arms around me in a long, strong hug.

“He’s back, honey,” she whispers sweetly through tears. “My baby is back.”

“Thank God,” I say, making my way into the living room. I spot him in the yard from the window so I head out and inspect the landscape until it gives up the effigy of my beautiful and definitely-not-dead husband.

Night falls around us as a sterile seam of light encircles the moon. It casts its illumination on the treetops, the hills, missing the shadow Mitch has buried himself in entirely.

“Hey.” I sit down next to him on the cool wood bench and slide over uneasily. Mitch remains rigid, his eyes focused on some invisible horizon, unmoved by my presence.

“Why didn’t you marry, Colt?” he says it without emotion, just words strung together in an effort to mask his anger.

“Colt?” I wrap my arms around him and lean my head on his shoulder. “Monogamy is not high on his list of priorities.”

“He would have given you back.”

A moment stilts by and neither of us breathe.

And there it is. He’s afraid Max won’t give me back. Oh God. I don’t know what to say to make the pain go away, so I opt for nothing. Instead, I look up and lose myself in those sage eyes I thought I’d never see again. I lean in and press my lips soft against his, pausing to savor the moment. My tongue swipes careful over his as I indulge in the hot of his mouth through a river of searing tears. I don’t have any answers for him and that makes kissing Mitch the only logical solution. It’s a holy exchange that aches to express something deeper than words, one that assures him of promises I’m not ready to make with my vocal cords.

I’m not sure at what point touching Mitch—pressing my lips to his, will start to feel morally wrong. For now it feels like nothing more than a dream—unreachable kisses that span the barrier of death we’ve somehow managed to cross. We found the loophole and just went with it.

“I love you so much.” I try to reassure him with words, with my mouth, but those are just words with no real solutions to back them.

“Hey,” Colt barks through the night. “Max and the kids are here.”

I lead Mitch by the hand as we head into the house, transferring my grip to his shoulders as we meet up with Max and the kids in the family room.

“Mitch”—my voice trembles while Stella steps forward as if she knows she’s the central focus of this entire exchange—“this is Stella and Eli.” I watch as he takes them in. First Stella with her large eyes set right on him, then a more scrutinizing look to Eli before breaking into a soft smile.

“Nice to meet you both.” He leans over and tousles Eli’s hair. “You look just like your dad.” Eli magnetizes to my leg and doesn’t let go. I can’t even imagine how much this hurts Mitch. Here he came back to me, and now I’m making him swim through razor blades by shoving my life with Max in his face—
Max
of all people.

“I know you,” Stella says with a sharp tone. Her little body postures a moment taking him in. “You’re Picture Daddy.”

The world stills. It’s the last thing that would have entered my mind, Stella pegging Mitch for who he really is—identifying him as her father in less than fifteen seconds.

I clear my throat. “Stella has your picture on her nightstand.” I glance over to Max for help.

Stella takes a bold step forward and picks up his hand. “I kiss you every night.” She bats her lashes at him and waits for him to make the next move.

Mitch drops down and wraps his arms around her. He closes his eyes and rains down kisses over her hair like he’s missed her with an indescribable ache.

“I prayed for you, Stella.” He pulls her in. “Every day I prayed that God would keep you safe.”

Stella pulls back and examines him. “Mommy said you kissed her and put me in her tummy.”

Mitch gives a gentle laugh. He glances up at me, and my stomach explodes with heat. This is what our family would have looked like. Seeing Mitch with his arms wrapped around Stella is more than a gift.

Stella presses her small hand into his chest. “Daddy kissed Mommy and put Eli in her tummy. My mommy says he’s going to kiss her again and give me a baby sister.”

Shit.

Janice gives a loud clap. “Guess what, Stella? I have a surprise for you and Eli upstairs.” She takes Eli by the hand, and the three of them traipse off.

“That went well.” Colt flops on the couch and folds his hands together as if settling in for the show—like he’s anticipating some big power finish, worthy of his time away from the strip club.

Both Max and Mitch shoot him a look before taking seats opposite one another. They exchange dangerous stares, rife with deadly implications. This was it, the moment of my discontent. Now it was just a matter of who would draw their weapon first.

“So how long did it take for you to close in on my wife?” Mitch doesn’t filter his hatred when it’s just us in the room. He doesn’t waver from his venom-filled glare.

Max takes in a deep breath. “All right, Lee.” He glides his hands over his knees. “We’d better go. Kids are tired, and we need to get to bed.” He makes his way over and slings his arm low around my waist.

Mitch appears in front of him quick as an apparition with his chest puffed out. He’s not opposed to a felony or two tonight, I can tell.

“
We
need to get to bed?” Mitch mimics the audacity while shoving Max into the wall.

“I meant the kids.” Max is quick with the correction.

“Mitch, don’t do this.” I step between them half-afraid I’m going to get clocked in the process. “He didn’t pull anything over on me. This isn’t some revenge-based marriage.”

“I’m sure there’s a butcher knife in the kitchen, Lee.” Mitch pulls a bleak smile. “Why don’t you slit my throat with it—finish me off.”

Janice reappears, panting from her effort as though she’s missed something.

“Well”—Max broadens his chest—“it’s a miracle you’re back. Glad to see you again.” It comes off sarcastic like maybe he’s not so glad to see him after all—I’m betting he’s probably not. Max holds out a hand to Mitch.

Mitch glares down at it, doesn’t make a move. I’m pretty sure he’s not going to shake it—
break
it maybe.

“Mom, Colt, goodnight.” Max nods into them before heading for the door. “Stella, Eli, time to go.”

“Stay a little longer.” Janice coaxes while pulling him back inside.

Mitch opens his mouth then closes it, staring at his mother in disbelief.

“I’m so sorry.” Janice smooths her hand over Max’s chest. “He’s just tired. This is all new to him.”

Mitch chokes on a laugh. “It looks like you’ve all been drinking the Kool-Aid.” Mitch is beside himself. “This is
Max
. This is generational warfare infiltrating you on the frontlines.” His eyes expand as he takes me in. “Lee?”

Mitch—I’ve ground all of his hope down to nothing. There’s so much pain and hurt on his face, I can’t bear to look at him.

“How about breakfast in the morning?” My lips tremble as I make the offer. “We’ll pick you up around eight?”

His mouth falls open as if for the first time tonight he realizes he’s not coming home with me, to our home, to our bed.

“Sure.” He looks resigned to the fact I’m leaving, being ushered out the door with Max Shepherd’s hand in the small of my back.

Stella and Eli run out into the cool of the night as Max guides me with a gentle push, but I retract and make my way back to Mitch.

I collapse my arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace that I hope will be enough to last all night. Not one part of me wants to go home. I’m afraid I’ll break the spell—that I’ll wake up in the morning and this will have been an impossible dream. But I know Max needs my reassurance tonight more than ever, and Mitch needs a moment to absorb all of these horrible truths.

“See you in the morning.” I press a kiss over his lips. Mitch doesn’t move. He’s rigid with disbelief, the stunned look of betrayal still fresh on his face.

“In the morning,” he whispers.

Max ushers me out the door as if the roof was on fire.

Mitch is back. All of my prayers have been answered. It’s nothing short of a miracle, and now I’m so frightened I wonder what I’ve done—how to get us out of this mess. We’ve become a tangled necklace that needs to be ripped apart with no hope of ever being whole and beautiful again. Everything is about to change. I know this. I can feel it, see it. But nothing is willing to give, and I could never leave Max.

Max saved me. He doesn’t deserve this. He never signed up to be second best to Mitch. I would never let him think that. I could never leave Max, but in a strange way I don’t feel married to him at all anymore. Now it’s just cheating on Mitch in the worst way possible.

Mitch

Molten hot water beads off my skin as I indulge in the world’s longest shower. I’m not sure how successful I was in washing the grime of reality off my flesh, but I concede and put on the clothes Colt scraped up for me. Wish I could wash Max Shepherd away—ship him off to the nearest desert island, hell, reeducation center.

Downstairs I find Colt and Mom huddled over the kitchen table with anxiety-riddled faces. Figures. As glad as Mom is to have me back, she’s worried for me and most likely for Max. It just proves her heart is too damn big.