Again (22 page)

I have to go back.
 
I have to fix things.
 
Her mind started.

No, I have to walk.
 
Her heart countered.

Not now.
 
Tomorrow.
 

No.
 
Now.
 
Please.

“I’m sorry,” Eryn said out loud.
 
She put the car in reverse.
 
“Old habits die hard.”
 
Tears pooled in her eyes, hovering precariously on the edge.
 
All she wanted to do was get out and put her feet in the sand and walk to the water’s edge for a little while, but she knew if she did, she would likely keep walking.

She pressed hard on the gas.

“Hey!”
 
A hand slapped the side of her car.

She jammed on the brakes, horrified she hadn’t even looked before backing up.
 

“Oh my God,” she muttered.
 
“I am such an idiot.”

She smiled apologetically at a group of surfers walking past her door, some indifferent, some scowling.
 
But only one existed in her world.
 
He kept the front of his body to her, turning as he walked, keeping his eyes locked with hers.
 
His smile made her forget everything.
 
More precisely, she realized, it made her remember.

She shouldered her door open and scrambled out.
 
Her heart and mind clashed as they met in her throat.
 
A thousand years could pass and still she would remember him.
 
He hadn’t changed, really.
 
He was just bigger, more mature, and if all possible, even more good looking.
 
Her jaw went slack as she took in his wide shoulders, tapering to a narrow waist and muscular legs held tightly underneath the black rubber of his wetsuit.
 
And all that glorious, thick wavy hair, teasing the tops of his shoulders.
 
The flash of his smile blasted her like the sun ricocheting off a mirror, straight to her heart.

One of the others called over his shoulder.
 
“Come on, dude.
 
Let it go.”

He lifted his hand to wave before finally turning to catch up with his friends.

She melted against the car door, watching his retreating back as the group made their way to the water.

“Wow,” she whispered.
 
How ironic.
 
This was no different than it was ten years ago at Solstice Beach.
 

Upset with Bryce.

Moping at beach.

An angel in disguise.

The impact was no less intense than it had been that day.
  
Understanding and comfort rolled off of him, surrounding her like a warm blanket, making her feel protected and cared for.

History tumbling around in the recycling bin.

She dragged the car door open and fell behind the wheel.
 
For the second time in her life, she watched him walk away, while she clung pathetically to Bryce.
 
She revved up the motor.
 
This time looking around her, she backed out and headed for home.
 

≈

She closed the door quietly behind her, listening for sounds that might lead her to Bryce.
  
The soft clang of iron and heavy breaths led her to the room off the patio where their home gym was set up.
 
Kicking off her shoes, she tiptoed over and stood in the doorway watching.

Bryce sat with his back to her, elbow braced against one knee as he curled the weight to his biceps.
 
His t-shirt strained over his muscles as they worked to contract against the heavy iron, his breaths coming out in short bursts.

“Hey,” she said softly.
 
“I can soap that sweat off you.”

He stopped mid-rep and said without turning around.
 
“That was fast.”

“I didn’t go running.
 
I decided to come back instead.”

“You shouldn’t have bothered.
 
I’m busy now.”

She stood up straighter.
 
It wasn’t supposed to go like this.
 
“Well, you have to take a shower some time.
 
I just thought…”

He put down the weight with a thud and stood up.
 
Her smile faded as he walked past her.
 
“Like I said, Eryn, I’m busy now.”

He could have thrown ice water on her and it wouldn’t have been more biting than his words.
 
This time it was him that was pulling the thread of their marriage.

She knew it would do no good to go after him, but she followed him anyway.

A knock on the front door saved her the embarrassment of groveling at Bryce’s feet, something she would have hated herself for doing.
 

A split second after flinging the door open, she felt the color drain from her face.
 
Her first impulse was to just slam the door shut, and she would have, had her body not frozen up on her.
 

Troy stood on the step, but his eyes weren’t friendly.

“Troy,” Eryn managed to choke out.
  
“What are you doing here?”
 
She looked back inside the house, and seeing that Bryce wasn’t close by, she stepped outside and closed the door behind her.

“What exactly did you mean by your message?”
 
He shoved his hands in his pockets and stood expectantly, waiting for her answer.

“Oh.”
 
She pressed her lips into a tight line.
 
She cringed at the anger that simmered in his eyes. “Please understand.
 
It’s nothing personal.”

“It sure feels personal,” he shot back.

“No, really, it’s not.”
 
She struggled for an explanation without bringing Brandi into this.

“What is it then?
 
Maybe you have bigger jobs now?
 
You don’t have time for me?” he asked tightly.
 
His eyes narrowed and a muscle twitched in his jaw.
 
“If that’s the case, I’ll pay you double what you normally get.”

“No, no…”
 
How much should she say?
 
She tried to choose her words carefully. “It’s just that there seems to be…um…kind of a conflict of interest.”
 
In the seconds that stretched she had to remind herself to breathe.
 
She felt as if the air had turned thick and her lungs strained against the effort.
  
She wasn’t sure if it was the heat of the sun or her own nerves that caused sweat to trickle down her back.
 

Troy’s jaw tightened and released rhythmically, his eyes hardening as he contemplated her meaning.
 
“Well, that could only mean someone is less than enthralled with our arrangement.”
 
Suddenly his eyes softened and he smiled.
 
He took his hands out of his pocket and spread his hands out to his sides.
 
“I’m sure there’s a misunderstanding.
 
Which one is complaining?”

Eryn didn’t respond.
 

“Is Bryce home?
 
Let me talk to him…”
 
He began to reach around her to ring the doorbell.

“No.”
 
She grabbed his arm to stop him.
 
The last thing she wanted was to have Bryce involved.
 
It was already complicated enough. “It’s not…”
 
She stopped.
 

Troy’s face was inches away from her.
 
He had tricked her and smiled with the knowledge.
 
His piercing blue eyes bore into hers before they slid down to stare at her lips.
 
She released his arm and stepped back.

“I’ll deal with Brandi.
 
I’ll make her understand,” he said.

This definitely was going the wrong way.
 
Eryn had to stop this, and right now, before it got too far out of hand.
 
“There’s nothing to deal with.
 
I just can’t do it anymore.”

“And if I don’t agree with you?”

She stared at him, incredulous.
 
“You have to.”

He grabbed her arm and leaned in.
 
She grimaced at the force of his hand and the warning in his face.
  
He started to say something, but stopped when the front door opened and Bryce stepped out.

“Get inside, Eryn.”
 
His words held a dangerous edge.

Troy now looked past her and glared at Bryce, his face lined with hatred.

Bryce pushed her behind him, back into the house.

She closed the door behind her and leaned on it hard.
 
Low voices volleyed back and forth behind her in threatening tones.
 

“Damn it.”
 
She whispered.
 
She really thought Troy would warm up to Brandi, but maybe Bryce and Brandi were right.
 
Troy really
was
dating Brandi to get to her.
 
She hit her fist against her thigh again and again, completely frustrated with herself.
 
How could she have been so stupid?

Finally, there was silence on the other side of the door followed by a car door slamming shut, tires squealing on the street.
 
She ran to the kitchen, not knowing if seeing Bryce right now was such a good idea.

The front door opened and closed.
 
Bryce’s footsteps echoed.
 
The sound of ice dropping in a glass was followed by the splash of liquid.
 
No, seeing him now was definitely not a good idea.

Chapter 22

“Milady! Milady!” Emelie's voice was just above a whisper, but the urgency it held cut through Catherine’s slumber and her lashes fluttered open.
 
She had been dreaming again.
 

She stood alone on the cliff in nothing more than her nightshift, her toes placed boldly along the ragged edge of the rocks with arms spread out to her sides, face upturned to bathe in the light of the moon, her skin cooled by the ocean breeze.
 
There was never any fear for her there, no anger or hurt.
 
But there was also no love.
 
It was a place of emptiness, a place she could hide from the guilt and indecision.
 
Nothing, she found, was sometimes better than something.

Catherine groaned.
 
“I trust you have an excellent reason to wake me before the sun has had a chance to rise, Emelie.”  She had not been so inclined to wake early in the months past.
 
Sleep had been her savior, allowing an escape from her ever-present restlessness.  She had told herself she could wait for the passion to grow between her and Galen.
 
But time had passed with no such promise.
  
She now had to admit defeat.
 
Galen, though handsome, strong, and passionate, just did not stir within her those feelings she experienced with Jonathan.

A part of her resigned herself to this fact.
 
Though her life lacked passion and laughter, she was well cared for.
 
There were many marriages that had little to do with love.
 
Why should hers be different?

But the rest of her refused to forget.
 
She had tasted passion, relished the fever that ran through her blood and heated her skin.
 
She knew the sensation of being free, her emotions unlocked by one man alone.

“The ship is here!” Emelie was trembling with her hands clasped tightly together.
 
“Master Jonathan has returned!” she said with barely-controlled excitement.

Catherine bolted upright, fully awake now.
 
Her heart beat frantically in her throat.
 
“How do you know of this?”

Emelie stared at the floor and she shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.  “I have been watching every morning, milady, for their return.”

Catherine’s tilted her head to the side, looking at Emelie through narrowed eyes.
 
“What reason would you have to…”
 
Catherine’s words drifted as the answer dawned on her.
 
“It is Cedric.”
 
She peered closer at her maid’s face.
 
“You are smitten with Cedric.”

Turning bright crimson, the maid clutched her skirt in tight fists.
 
“Oh, please do not be angry, milady!” she pleaded.

How simple it was for Emelie to love so freely, Catherine thought.
 
No one would condemn Emelie for following her heart.
 
For the first time, Catherine felt pangs of envy for her maid’s simple life.