The Wishing Season (18 page)

She thought of last Saturday when Keaton had come. But strangely her mind fast-forwarded to the part where Cole had shown up. To the way he’d jumped onto the porch, telling Keaton to back off. To the way he’d placed himself between them as if Keaton was a physical threat.

He’d never given her reason to fear him, but it had felt good to be protected. Cole made her feel safe. Ironic, given that he’d scared her to death the day he’d come barging into her life.

When PJ got home, she went to her bedroom and finished a marketing book she’d borrowed from the library. Cooped up in her room, she longed for a living room of her own to spread out in. Soon, she thought, then felt a pang as she realized that to have one she’d have to displace Cole and the kids.

She used leftovers to make a smoked salmon and Gruyère grilled cheese sandwich for supper, then she looked over some advertising offers she’d received. She could hear the kids overhead. It sounded like they were playing Ping-Pong
on the table Cole had bought. Their footsteps and voices were loud, but she couldn’t bring herself to be upset when they sounded so happy.

She’d just changed into her pajamas and brushed her teeth when the familiar strains of the song played from her phone. She took a deep breath and answered, bracing herself for his voice.

“Stop calling my husband.”

PJ froze. “What?”

“You heard me.” The woman’s voice shook. “We have a child—doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“I—”

“We’re trying to work things out, and the last thing we need is you butting back into our marriage! Do you have any idea of the damage you’ve caused? The pain?”

“I’m so—”

“I don’t want to hear it! You’re nothing but a two-bit tramp. You think you’re something special to him? You were nothing but a distraction, and you’d better stay away from him, you hear me? I know where you live. I will come down there and ruin you, don’t think for a minute that I won’t. I’ll make you sorry you ever set eyes on him!”

The phone clicked in her ear. PJ dropped the phone on her bed. She felt the air rush out of her. It stuttered in her lungs before she sucked in another ragged breath.

He was a few days late on his portion of the bills, but finally one of his sponsors had come through. Cole ripped out the check and headed down the attic stairs. He passed the community
living room where a rousing game of Ping-Pong was being waged between Josh and Zac.

He couldn’t really afford the table, but when he’d seen it at the thrift shop, a little beaten up and priced to sell, he couldn’t seem to help himself. Hearing their laughter now, he knew it had been worth every penny.

He took the second set of stairs and rounded the bend, heading back through the darkened kitchen and to PJ’s door. It was cracked open, a sliver of light edging the side.

It fell open as he rapped on the door. “PJ?”

From the edge of the bed, she looked toward the door, then away from him. She swiped her hand across her face. “Yeah?”

He frowned, pushing the door open the rest of the way. “I brought the check for my half of the bills.”

She cleared her throat. “Just set it on the bureau.”

Either she had the world’s worst cold or she was crying. Since she wouldn’t look his way, he put his money on the latter.

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

She didn’t sound fine. His feet stuttered on the threshold. Should he go in? Stay away? He never knew what to do about tears.

Was she stressed out about the house? The restaurant? He couldn’t help but notice that business had fallen off lately. And he hadn’t helped matters by delaying his payment.

“Sorry I’m late with the payment.”

She waved the apology away and shook her head. A sniffle sounded. Then another.

Overhead Josh must’ve scored game point, because his whoop practically shook the rafters. And the footsteps. It sounded like a herd of buffalo from here.

“Is it the kids? I’ll go tell them to keep it down.”

She shook her head. “They’re fine.” Her voice wobbled on the last word.

He’d thought they were complying with the rules. And PJ had made a big impression on Shaundra. It was always “PJ this” and “PJ that.”

He took a hesitant step toward her. “If everyone’s fine . . . what’s with the tears?”

Whatever he’d said seemed to break something loose. She covered her face and a sob escaped. Even he knew he couldn’t leave now. And strangely, he didn’t want to.

“Hey . . .” He was at her side in seconds. He eased down onto the bed, and her pajama-clad thigh brushed against his. “What is it? Is it the restaurant? I know it’s slow right now, but spring’ll be here before we know it. The cooking classes are going well, right?”

She shook her head, her hands falling to her lap. “It’s not the restaurant.”

“What is it then?”

She dropped her head. Her lips quivered, and his fingers ached to still them. Tears cascaded down her flushed cheeks, one after another, dripping from her chin.

“Keaton,” she said, sniffling.

He hadn’t expected that. That’s why it felt like a kick in the gut.

“We started dating last winter. He kind of just—swept me off my feet, you know?”

If he felt another kick in the gut, it was only because he felt her pain.

“I thought he was it. For the first time I was falling in
love . . .” She swiped a hand across her face. “But then things started happening—bad things.”

If Keaton had laid a hand on her, Cole was going to throttle the man himself.

He hooked PJ’s chin and turned her toward him. “What kind of things?”

“Little stuff. Like I couldn’t reach him when he was away, and he wouldn’t friend me on Facebook, and he called at odd times.”

Cole tilted his head back as understanding dawned.

“I followed him one night, back to his house.” Her face scrunched up. “There was a wife . . . a little boy . . . I’d fallen in love with a married man.”

“Oh, honey . . .”

She closed her eyes. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. It’s just that I can’t talk to my family. They’d be so ashamed. And they should be. I didn’t think I’d ever do something like that. I thought I was a better person than that.”

“Whoa—wait. What exactly did you do?”

“I dated a married man!”

“A man you didn’t know was married.”

She nailed him with her wet brown eyes. “Somehow his wife found out, and I broke up a family! They’re getting a divorce—at least that’s what Keaton said. His wife said something else—plenty else. She called me just now.”

“You didn’t know, PJ. He lied to you. Did you keep seeing him after you found out he was married?”

“Of course not.”

“Then you didn’t do anything wrong.
He
was wrong. If his marriage is breaking up, that’s on him.”

She stared at him, those big brown eyes filling again. Her lip quivered and she covered her face, her body racked with sobs.

What was a guy to do? Cole put his arm around her shoulder, and that was all it took. She turned into him and burrowed in. He wrapped her up in his arms, letting go of a deep breath.

He felt her pain with every spasm of her body. And as she cried the old memory of the woman with black hair and red nails flashed into his mind. The woman who’d come between his parents and played a role in their deaths. He pushed the thought away. That woman had to have known Dad was married, didn’t she? She was in his parents’ bed, for crying out loud.

PJ sniffled, drawing him back to her.

He stroked her shoulder with his thumb. “Come on, now, it’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not!” Her voice was muffled by her hands, by his chest. He could feel her tears soaking through his T-shirt. “I’m a horrible person.”

He set her back until he could see her eyes, his hands framing her face. “Hey. You are not a horrible person.”

“Yes, I am.”

“You didn’t know.”

Her eyes began filling again. She blinked, and a tear chased a worn path. “But I know now . . . and I still want him sometimes.” She said the words as if they were dug up from some deep, secret part of her heart.

He wished he could wipe away the shame he saw in her eyes. Her vulnerability pushed at all his walls. He drew her back to his chest.

She came willingly, sliding her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his chest.

Could she hear the way his heart thumped at the contact? The sweet flower smell of her rose to his nostrils, and he lowered his head, drawing her in.

Her shoulders shook as she sniffled, and guilt pricked him hard. What was he doing taking pleasure while she was hurting?

You’re a real jerk, Evans.

“I feel so guilty. I shouldn’t be thinking these things. Shouldn’t be missing him. What’s wrong with me?”

“It’s not a sin to be tempted. You’re doing the right thing. That’s what matters.”

“I was doing so much better. I thought I was over him, but then he started texting and calling, saying he wanted me back. I ignored him but—”

“Change your number.”

“But maybe he just needs closure or something. Maybe if I talk to him one last time, he’d understand it’s—”

“You don’t owe him anything, PJ. He knew what he was doing. He dragged you into this, manipulated you. You have to do what’s best for you now.”

She pulled away, wiping the last of the tears. She was finally settling down, her flushed cheeks dry now. “What if he just comes back?”

“Then he’ll have to get through me.”

Something washed over her face. Relief? Her eyes brightened. Her lips turned up at the corners. “Thanks.”

She needed him. He thought that might be the best feeling ever. He’d even managed to calm her somehow. Him. A guy who was helpless in the face of tears.

“I’ll change my number tomorrow. I don’t know what I’ll tell my family.”

“Tell them you were getting unwanted calls.”

She nodded. “Okay. Good idea.”

Upstairs another wild game of Ping-Pong was under way. Feet shuffled overhead. Someone whooped.

He was suddenly conscious of PJ’s thigh pressed against his, warm and firm. Of how close she was, just a breath away. He needed out of here before he started wanting.

Started
wanting
?
Really, Evans?

The bed frame squeaked as he stood. “It’s late. I’ll go tell them it’s time to shut it down for the night.”

“Thanks, Cole,” PJ said as he walked away.

“Anytime.”

“Sorry about your shirt.” She looked sheepish when he turned. She was the cutest thing in her pink pajamas, her bare feet dangling above the floor.

“It’ll wash,” he said. “Good night.”

“Night.”

He forced himself to turn, to shut the door and walk away. He should be used to that. He’d been trained for it all his life.

Chapter Twenty-Four

D
ECEMBER WAS PASSING IN A FLURRY OF HOLIDAY PREPARATIONS
, cooking, and family. PJ was busy with the influx of early Christmas parties and tourists who came for the Silent Night Tour of Homes. As hectic as things were, she wondered what she’d do next year if she had a B & B on top of it all. The thought made her mind spin like beaters set to whip.

Keaton hadn’t contacted her since his wife had called, though Cole stuck close to the house, making himself more visible during restaurant hours. After a few weeks, PJ began to relax. It seemed Keaton had given up. She could only hope he was working things out with his wife.

She hired Shaundra to help with kitchen prep for the Christmas season. The girl was quick and efficient once she got the hang of things. PJ found herself thinking she’d hire her full time come summer. Then she remembered that one of them wouldn’t be there after June 1.

By Christmas Eve morning the kids had been off school for almost a week and were getting bored. It was evidenced by the blaring TV and short fuses. To make matters worse, a snowstorm two days before had left them cooped up together.

PJ got dressed, then flopped on her bed and began paging through the January issue of
Master Chef
for the third time. The
restaurant had closed because of the storm and would be closed for the next two days because of the holiday. She was going to go stircrazy.

She had to buy a recliner to squeeze in here. She could hardly wait until she had a living room of her own.

But then Cole would be gone.

He’d been coming around more lately because of Keaton. And if she were honest, she’d been seeking him out on occasion. It had nothing to do with his good looks or the way it had felt to be wrapped up in his arms. She just needed a good friend right now. Maybe he wasn’t the wisest choice for that role, but he made her feel good. As though she could do this—even on weeks when she scraped the bottom of the barrel financially.

Overhead, the kids were waking and moving around. Awhile later, a Ping-Pong game started, and within minutes loud, angry voices carried through the ceiling. So much for a pleasant day off.

She had to get out of here. Breathe in some Christmas spirit, spread her wings. She tossed her magazine down and slipped on her boots. She was shrugging into her coat by the front door as Cole came down the stairs, wearing a scowl. The argument between Zac and Shaundra carried from the living room upstairs.