As If You Never Left Me (Crimson Romance) (2 page)

“You’d think that would be worth your attention, if you really wanted to get rid of the guy.”

“I know. I just — I don’t know.”

Perry leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing her arms over her chest. “That was coherent.”

“Yeah. Rey has that effect on me.” And other effects, as well, dredging up questions and emotions she’d hoped she wouldn’t have to deal with. Ever. She should have known better.

“Rey? That’s his name?”

“Reynard. Reynard Birch. Fine Mr. Lawyer Man, we’ll call him.” Her voice shook a little; she hoped Perry wouldn’t notice.

Perry made a face. “He’s a lawyer? Defense or prosecuting?”

“Corporate.”

“Is that worse or better?”

“It was enough to break up our marriage.” She turned her chair, looking out the window. A few puffy clouds had drifted into the sapphire sky scape. Rey didn’t belong here. He was part of New York and always would be. She didn’t think she could go back to that life.

“You said it’s been over a year?” Perry’s voice intruded gently on her thoughts.

“Just about.”

“He never called or wrote?”

“He called a few times. He wrote some letters. I never read them.”

“Why did you leave him?” Her voice had softened a little, and Joely could tell by her expression that she understood how difficult the conversation had become. “Was he abusive?”

“No, it wasn’t like that. He just — he had an affair, I guess. With his job.”

“So he never beat you, never cheated on you, and never signed the divorce papers.”

“That’s about it.”

“He sounds like quite the ogre.” She paused, waiting for a laugh. Joely didn’t oblige. “Do you still love him?”

“I don’t know.” Seeing him had brought back so many memories, for some reason only the good ones. His warm smile. His long, clever fingers. The way his eyes darkened when he came …

Rey still made something inside her sing. Too loudly, even. So loudly it was hard to hear any sort of logic over it. Whether that was love or not, she didn’t know. She looked imploringly at Perry. “I don’t know what to do, Perry. What should I do?”

Perry shook her head in what appeared to be exasperated sympathy. “Hon, I think you need to go have dinner tonight with your husband.”

• • •

Joely closed up shop early that evening. It had been another good day, but customers had trickled to nothing by four-thirty, so Joely turned the “Closed” sign around and headed home to face the decision she’d made that afternoon.

She almost wished she’d made him sign the divorce papers right there, just to get it over with. But if he wanted to talk, she supposed she should give him that chance. Could anything he might say make a difference? He’d hurt her so deeply, so irrevocably, that she doubted he could woo her back with words of any kind.

She turned her Jeep onto the dirt road that led to her house, then up the long, winding driveway. Some days, it was too long and winding — days when it snowed, or when a heavy rain washed it into ruts even the Jeep could barely handle. But the payoff was worth it. She pulled into the small garage and headed inside.

The house sat perched on the side of the mountain, looking out over the same sweep of valley she could see out the office window at the gallery. The view was spectacular, but right now, with the sun nearly down, it was hard to see much of anything. She paused by the wide living room windows, trying to pick something out of the shadows. Finally, she sighed and turned on the living room light.

The house itself was small and twenty-five years old, but those facts had brought it within her purchase range. It was little more than a cabin size-wise, but it had electric heat — supplemented by a wood-burning stove to keep the costs lower — water and a septic tank. It also had a satellite dish now, and a hot tub. A cabin supreme. And it was made of logs. Coming as she had straight from New York, that feature had entranced her.

Joely laid her keys on the kitchen table and picked up a silver teapot from the stove. She filled it with water from the sink and turned on the electric stove, setting the water to heat. The microwave would have been faster — water took forever to boil on the electric stove. But today she particularly needed the every-evening ritual. On difficult days, the tea calmed her; on better days it gave her a chance to reflect on everything that had gone right. Today, she would use the time to think about Rey.

In the bedroom, she kicked off her shoes and sorted through the closet. She had no idea what she’d wear tonight, but she certainly wasn’t going to face Rey in work garb. Ratty jeans and a T-shirt wouldn’t do, either. She wanted to feel sexy but not flaunt it at him. Not too much, anyway. He needed to see what he’d abandoned. Maybe even have his nose rubbed in it a little. After some consideration, she pulled out a bright pink cashmere sweater and crisp, new blue jeans. The sweater clung sweetly to her breasts, and she knew for a fact she looked damned good in a pair of jeans. If that didn’t make Rey sweat, nothing would.

Wearing the more casual clothes, she went into the bathroom and straightened her pale, short-cropped hair. Then she wondered why she was making such a fuss. It was Rey, after all, who’d seen her at her best and worst for five years before he’d decided his career was more important than their marriage.

Sudden thickness rose in her throat. She blinked hard as the old emotions rose. The erosion of her marriage had been the most painful thing she’d ever experienced, and the thought of facing that again held her paralyzed for a moment. Could she walk into that restaurant tonight, knowing it could be the first step down a road that led to bereavement?

In the kitchen, the teakettle began to whistle. Joely jerked back to the present, untangling her thoughts from memories of Rey. There was a great deal of good mixed in with the bad. Memories she still treasured, of secrets shared, love whispered, heated bodies tangling in the darkness, or the muted light of late morning. She looked at the mirror, at her own clear blue eyes and the determined set of her jaw.

She had to find out what he had to say.

With her heart in her mouth, Joely stepped through the front door of the Elk Valley Diner. She paused, taking a deep breath. She’d spent many a lunch break here — the nachos were excellent. It was familiar territory, at least, making her feel less nervous about the impending confrontation with Rey. What could he say to her after all this time? Why had he even come?

Of course, she wouldn’t get the answers to these questions until she actually spoke to him. Fighting the urge to turn around and run, she continued into the restaurant.

Rey sat at the bar, sipping a beer. In a chambray shirt and jeans, he looked more like he belonged in Colorado, rather than in a posh New York City boutique. A shock of brown hair fell down over his forehead as he made notations on his phone. Joely found her attention captured by the movement of his fingers. Those fingers could work magic when he put his mind to it, and she could remember the exact sensations, how they felt sliding over her skin, cupping a breast, sliding inside her.

Her attention drifted down lanky, jeans-clad legs to the comfortable-looking hiking boots on his big feet. The jeans were snug but not too tight, displaying each line of his muscled legs and buttocks to perfection. And the feet — although the feet inside the boots were typical knobby man-feet, she had reason to know he lived up to the old wives’ tale about the size of a man’s feet.

A long, tall drink of water, indeed. She’d forgotten how damn pretty he was. She’d forgotten how much she always wanted him when she saw him. The way he made her breath go shallow and her heart speed up. The way her body opened, ready to take him in.

Gathering herself yet again, she perched on the stool next to him and he looked up, giving her that smile. The one that rendered useless all efforts to calm herself. “Hi.” He paused. “So what’s the verdict?”

“I don’t have the papers.”

His face softened with relief, and only then did she realize it had carried the tension of uncertainty. She laid her hand on his, let herself feel the warmth of his skin.

“Why am I here? What do you want to talk to me about?”

“I want a second chance.”

She could only stare at him. “I gave you a second chance. And a third chance. A fourth, even. You refused to change anything.”

“I know.”

His soft admission surprised her. She leaned against the bar. The support helped a little. She felt like her whole world had turned sideways, and if she didn’t hold on tight to something, she might fall off.

“I screwed up, Joely. I know that now and I knew it then. I was stubborn and stupid, and I threw away the best thing that ever happened to me.” His eyes on hers were soft and sincere. “I want a second chance.”

She shook her head, fighting the thickening that had begun in her throat. “I can’t go through that again, Rey.”

He looked down into the amber of his beer. “I know. I know I have no right to ask. But I’m asking anyway.”

Behind them, a waiter called Rey’s name, announcing the availability of a table for two. He picked up his beer and slid off the barstool.

“I’d rather discuss this at the table, anyway,” he said. “It’ll be more private.”

“Yes, I suppose it will.”

She followed him, using the opportunity to compose her thoughts. The tears hadn’t quite gotten underway, but she blinked a few times to be sure they wouldn’t plague her. The last thing she needed right now was to break down.

Exactly what kind of second chance was he after? That was the big question. If he thought she was going to pack up and head back to New York with him, he was sadly mistaken.

The waiter settled them in a cozy corner booth that afforded more privacy than she’d expected. That was good. Whatever Rey had to say, they could hash it out here. She didn’t want the awkwardness of having him in her house, where it would be too intimate. The booth was discreet but kept him at arm’s length. If he managed to get any closer than that, she wasn’t sure what she would do. Just seeing him had put him too close to her heart. If he touched her in anything other than a casual manner, all the turbulent, painful emotion inside was likely to explode out of her. So far, she had remained calm. She needed to hold on to that with both hands.

“So,” she said after they’d placed their order. “Exactly what are you proposing?”

He leaned over the table, eyes dark with sincerity. Deep, storm-dark. The kind of dark that could drag her in, immobilize her. She swallowed.

“I want a month. A month to be your husband again.”

The statement startled her, but she maintained composure. Calmly, she said, “A month is a long time.”

“It’s barely any time at all. We could have forever together, like we planned in the beginning. A month is nothing.”

The tears were lurking again. She fought them and won. “You want me to come back to New York?”

“No. I’ll stay here.”

“You want to move in with me?” That sounded dangerous. The two of them in her tiny cabin, a chilly Colorado night … If he came to her, she wouldn’t be able to tell him no. Part of her heart lurched in anticipation, the other part shrank back in fear.

“Yes,” he said simply.

“Where are you going to sleep?”

“I want to be your husband again, Joely.”

It took her a moment to form words. This was too much for him to ask — far too much. “That’s a bit abrupt after all this time, don’t you think?”

He trailed a finger across the back of her hand, over exactly the right spot. Her skin shivered under his touch. She drew a quick breath. The touch shot straight through her, firing every erogenous nerve in her body. No wonder it had been so hard to leave him. “Maybe,” he said.

She stared at his hand, at the long, graceful fingers as they traced over her skin, and suddenly she remembered everything. The smell in the hollow where his shoulder met his neck. The tickle of his chest hair against her nose in the morning when she buried her head in his chest. The weight of his arms around her, the weight of his body on her. The firm, slim length of him sliding into her, deep, solid, so far inside her she felt like they had become one person.

She jerked her hand away and tried to rub off the remaining sensation of his touch. She didn’t want this, didn’t want all this back. “This is a lot to spring on me all at once. I’ll have to think about it.”

A look of sheepish disappointment rose on his face.

“What?” she asked.

“I don’t really have a place to stay tonight.”

She shook her head, amazed. “You just thought you were going to ride into town and get me to agree to this scheme right away, didn’t you? You thought I’d invite you back into my life — into my bed — with open arms?”

“Well — ”

“God, you’re arrogant.” Fury surged, burning past the arousal he’d lit in her body. Thank God. The arousal had been leading her down a far too dangerous path.

“Or just hopeful.”

“No, arrogant.” She pressed her lips together, hanging on to her anger like a lifeline. “I know the lady who runs the lodge up the road. I’m sure she can get you a room.”

“If that’s what you want.”

She bristled at his conciliatory tone. “Look, I have a teeny-tiny house. There’s no guest room, and the couch isn’t exactly huge.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You don’t mind now, but you’d mind in the morning when I had to pry you out of it with a crowbar.”

He smiled. She was beginning to hate that smile. It made her warm and mushy and hot and needy all at the same time, and that was something she couldn’t afford to be.

“You don’t want me to stay at the lodge, not if you’re thinking about prying me out of your couch.”

She drew herself tautly upright in her chair. “It’s a very nice lodge. They give you free breakfast with the room.”

“I’m sure it’s a wonderful lodge.”

“Then go there.”

“If that’s what you want me to do.” The smile hadn’t faded, and he looked almost smug. She wanted to slap him.

Instead, she eyed him primly. “I think that would be best under the circumstances.”