The Solitude of Passion (36 page)

“Fine.” He tucks his tail between his legs, resigned to his new sleeping arrangement. “Night.” He swipes it up off the floor and pushes me into the wall before disappearing into Eli’s room.

Lee gets up and comes over, her eyes still alive with grief. She doesn’t say a word.

“Thank you.” I wrap my arms around her waist and hold her, feel her heart pummeling against my chest like she just ran a miracle mile.

Max is out of the bedroom. This festering wound inside me has finally opened, and now all that’s left to do is heal.

Max

It’s so fucking hot.

I give several hard blinks, struggling to wake up. The room looks foreign from this vantage point until Eli smacks me in the face with a small yellow truck. Then it all comes back to me, Lee, the air mattress—Mitch and that shit-eating grin.

“Is that how you say good morning?” I pull Eli over and tickle him before tossing the truck clear across the room.

“
Up
,” he shouts as he pulls me off the floor. Note to self: invest in a better quality mattress and possibly a shotgun, duct tape, and a shovel.

“Come here you.” I pull him to his car bed and relax over his pillow. It turns out Eli’s bed isn’t that much more of an improvement.

Lee came back from her date with Mitch last night revved up like PMS on steroids. I’d hate to be the one to bring it up, but I think she’s emotionally allergic to him.

As for Mitch, I’d like to pummel him. Beat him until his ears bleed, then throw him into the Pacific.

Stella wanders in wearing her yellow ducky pajamas. “You had a sleepover?” Her hair is disheveled and her lids still hang heavy.

“Yup.” I pull the blanket off the floor and fold it in half. “You want to have a sleepover with Eli tonight?”

“Yes!” She squeals, jumping on the glorified bag of air that pulled the pin on the grenade that lives in my back.

“Okay, I’ll let you sleep on the air mattress.”

Screams of joy rattle out of her as if she’s about to go on some exotic adventure.

“I call Stella’s bed,” I say as Eli joins his sister.

The sun sits high as Lee and I drive over to the Mono Bay Airport, small crafts only. Mitch didn’t look so enthused this morning when we saddled him with the kids and headed out. He mentioned he’d be spending the day on the beach with them. Stella and Eli better not drown on his watch, or I might be moved to decapitate him.

“An airport? What’s this about, Shepherd?” Lee bites down on a smile as she soaks in the planes surrounding us.

“Let’s find out.” We head out of the car and into a waiting helicopter. Lee laughs as we levitate into the sky. She’s right back to being herself again, pre Mitch’s resurrection.

I get the feeling the key to a long healthy relationship with Lee is going to include keeping Mitch as far away as possible. China was good while it lasted. Maybe it’s time to notify the degenerates Hudson hangs with—pad his payday a little and see if Mitch makes it to Christmas.

I try to let the thought sail out my mind, but it’s too late. It’s scalded itself into my brain, ingrained itself like a scar. I wouldn’t kill Mitch if it came down to it. But I sure as hell don’t mind entertaining the fantasy.

“This is insane!” Lee points down at the beach house as we rise through the air, effortless as a kite.

“There’s your baby.” I redirect her over to Shepherd in the east. It’s beautiful in all of its miniature glory, the hills, the neat rows of vines.

“Oh, wow!”

“Townsend on the left,” I say.
Fuck
. It looks like a death camp for foliage—nothing but dehydrated crap. Looks like I’m going to lose another good week figuring this mess out. The hit on my wallet is going to put a nice dent in Stella and Eli’s college fund. At this rate they won’t have one, and any dreams I might have had about retirement have long since evaporated. Maybe it is time Mitch gets back in the game. Maybe I’ll bill him with the one hundred thousand plus plumbing bill, see if that doesn’t shave a good ten years off the backend of his life.

“We need to do this again sometime and bring the kids.” Lee wraps her arm around my waist and pulls me in close. Her affections migrate naturally without Mitch in the equation. Then a brick wall of a thought hits me. What if her affections stray in the other direction when I’m not around? Who knows what happened with Mitch last night. He’s already established the fact he’s not above forcing himself on her. Ironic since he accused me of the exact same thing.

We start in on our descent, and Lee looks mystified.

“Already?”

“Already,” I assure her with a kiss that takes us all the way back down to earth.

The pilot lands us in a field just north of a large stream that bisects old Johnson’s almond farm. Lee wanted this place more than air a few years back. I tried to make an offer, but Johnson was a greedy bastard. The price was too steep, and he wouldn’t budge.

We head out and wave to the pilot as he takes off.

She spins, taking it all in. Her hair follows, wafts through the breeze like down feathers. Lee catches the light and shimmers like gold.

“Where are we?” She lands her arms around me again. “And please tell me indoor plumbing exists here.”

“Johnson’s farm, and I think if we hike up past that ridge, there’s a termite-riddled outhouse. Of course, if you hike up
that
way, you’ll hit the main office. Rumor has it they have his/hers accommodations. If you flash a twenty, they might even throw in toilet paper.”

“
Max
.” She swats me over the arm. “This place is beautiful.” She takes in a quick breath. “Look!” A table and two chairs are set up in the clearing next to the stream. A tall vase is set on top, brimming with wildflowers. It petrifies the landscape with its riot of color.

“Now how did that get there?” I tease, taking her by the hand. We walk up next to the peaceful river. It’s so perfectly still it looks like sheet glass.

“Lunch? Here?” Her lips give a delicious curve. “You really know how to impress.” She hikes up on the balls of her feet and gives a quick kiss. A church kiss, the friends-only edition that one might get before being shown the big neon exit sign hanging over the relationship door.

“I thought you’d enjoy catching your food.” I nod past her. “There’s a fire pit. We can gut ‘em and cook ‘em. Unless, of course, you prefer sushi.”

“Fishing?” She goes rigid. Lee abhors the thought of sticking a hook in any living thing. She wants to believe all of her beloved proteins magically appear packaged in Styrofoam at the grocery store. She’s sweet that way. No survival instincts whatsoever, but sweet.

Lee closes her eyes. “Dear God, deliver me from fishing.”

I bark out a laugh as I pull her in. “Consider your prayers answered. See those?” I direct her to a pair of silver domes on a stand just past the table. “I’ve already caught the fish.” Not really, more like had a sushi chef flown in for the afternoon. Heard he was terrified by the sorry state of the kitchen.

“If anything under there requires gutting, I promise, the air-mattress will be the least of your worries.” She lands a swift kiss on my lips before heading over to check out the fare. “Very nice, Shepherd.”

“I thought so.” I join her at the table, and we lose ourselves in just being Lee and Max. It’s easy like this with Lee. The small talk, the soft hum of the stream, it’s all a pleasure to take in, not a moment of strangled silence. “So what do you think?” I wand my hand over the amenities.

“You did good.” She leans in and feeds me a piece off her plate.

“Mmm. Thank you.” I pull an envelope from my back pocket and hand it to her.

“What’s this?” She peels the letter out and examines it for a moment. Her eyes widen with a mixture of pleasure and disbelief. “Max?”

“What does it look like?”

“Looks like a deed.” Her hair sails behind her like a beautiful flowing mane, and I want to remember her like this. There’s something ethereal about Lee, something that transcends beauty and rises above the mortal definition.

“I bought it for you.”

She bumps back in her seat. “You
bought
it?” It comes out a broken whisper. Lee tips the table over into the grass before lunging into me. She lands us backward onto the dry, warm soil. “Thank you.” She spreads my arms wide as wings and delivers a disorienting stream of kisses. I tumble over her, pinning her down on the grass and feel her heart raking up against mine. Lee lets out a soft, bubbling laugh, first one I’ve heard in weeks. The thought of old Johnson’s farm as her own brings her downright joy, although I’d like to think it was me she was squealing over. I bite into her neck playfully before lashing my tongue up along her jawline. There’s not another person for miles—just the stream, Lee, and me. It’d be a waste to let the moment slip by—for one lonely kiss to be the single peg to hang our posterity on, so I pluck at her T-shirt, giving her ample time to protest, but she doesn’t. She pulls my face in with both hands and bites down gently onto my lower lip.

Green light.

I slide my hands up her skirt, ride the curve of her legs inside her thighs.

No sign of Mitch or an air mattress.

It’s all systems go.

Lee

It’s strange the times God chooses to answer our prayers, the times he chooses to remain silent. The blinding rays of the sun pulsate through my lids, creating a wall of fire between me and the visible world. Making love to Max over the warm grass on Johnson’s farm is a fantasy come to life.

Mitch.

He haunts the moment, disables my pleasure as Max presses into me with his forceful thrusts of affection.

Max chews on my ear, runs his hot mouth down my neck while cupping me with his hands. My mind distorts reality and interchanges Max for Mitch every third second making this feel more like a psychotic episode rather than some monumental moment between Max and me. There have been times I’ve been with Max that Mitch has floated through my mind, and horribly enough sometimes I let him linger. But this was different. Mitch has embedded himself in my subconscious, and a part of me feels every bit the adulterer with my legs wrapped around another man. I’ve been with Max countless times, far more than I ever have with Mitch. Loving Max like this feels natural as air and water—and equally necessary for my survival.

This guilt, this sexually-induced trauma inspires a lava stream of heated images— Mitch and Max, the three of us twisted in one lusty exchange. My mind morphs the two of them together and turns them into something interchangeable. I’m not sure who or what I want anymore. As much as I ache for Mitch, I crave Max like water for my thirsty soul. I want it all the hard way. Sometimes I think that’s all I’ve ever known.

Max pulls my legs over his shoulders, and watches me from above as he plunges in over and over. I’m laid bare, spread wide in the open air with nothing but the unblemished sky behind him. Max presses in one final time before trembling into me.

“Damn, Lee,” he pants through his laughter as he lands next to me. He swipes the tablecloth lying at my feet and pulls it over our bodies. “That was a hell of a thank you.” He lands a kiss on my lips and lingers.

“I’m glad you liked it.” I pull my clothes back on like a monkey on fire. My cheeks are flustered with both excitement and horror at what just happened. I’m so afraid I might have made love to Max for the very last time, right here in the open like some grand finale of our fornicating affections. My heart feels like its about to burst at the seams, and if this goes on much longer it just may. That might be the best solution in all this madness—me dying from an inability to choose.

“There’s something about you, Max Shepherd.” I take him in under the spray of afternoon sunshine and seal my lips over his. “All these years there’s always been an undeniable spark. I don’t think it’ll ever go away.” True. Max had my hormones riled up long before I knew Mitch.

His eyes light up an electric blue.

“It won’t go away,” he assures, pulling me down over him.

Deep down inside, I know this to be true.