Deeper

by Megan Hart

  “I don’t!” His accusation had shocked her. “I don’t pity you, Nick. God! If what you say is true—”

  “Why would I lie?” He gave her a shark-toothed grin. “Unless I’m just messing with you.”

  “No wonder you don’t have an easy time trusting anyone, is all I’m saying.” Bess let go of his hand to put hers on her hips. “But it’s not an excuse to be an asshole.”

  “I am an asshole,” he said, as if it were his astrological sign.

  “I don’t care,” Bess insisted.

  Nick shook his head. “You should.”

  “I don’t!” She laughed, suddenly, and tipped her face up to the night sky and the stars sprinkled there. “I don’t care if you’re an asshole, I don’t care what anyone says, okay? I don’t care!”

  Nick laughed, too, after a minute. “You’re out of your fucking head, you know that?”

  “I know it.” Bess leaped into his arms and covered his face with kisses, but it was all right, because Nick caught her. He caught and held her and they both twirled around until he lost his balance and they fell in a tangle of arms and legs onto the sand. “I’m out of my fucking head, Nick.”

  For you.

  She didn’t say it aloud, but not because she didn’t trust him. Because she wanted him to trust her, and something like that couldn’t be forced. It would come or not come.

  He kissed her, rolling, and she didn’t care about the sand in her hair or in her clothes. She kissed him back and held him close, and they laughed as they looked up at the stars.

  “Orion.” Nick pointed. “That’s the only one I know.”

  “The Big Dipper.” Bess scanned the sky, then pointed. “And the little one. You know what the best part of the stars is?”

  “What’s that?”

  She rolled on her side to face him, and he did the same. Nick reached to tuck her hair behind her ears. Bess took the chance to kiss him again, just because she could.

  “They’re the same no matter what sky you’re standing under. I mean…yeah, they might move or look like they’re in a different place, but they’re the same stars.”

  Nick tilted his head to look up. “Yeah? So?”

  “So even if you’re apart from someone you want to be with, you can look up at the stars and know they’re looking at the same ones.”

  Nick blinked and gazed at her, his face solemn. The bonfire had died down and the moon was no more than a fingernail, so not all of his features were clear, but Bess didn’t need to see every line of his face to picture it.

  “That is such a bunch of romantic crap,” he said, but laughed and pulled her closer when she tried to pinch him.

  “There’s nothing wrong with romantic crap every once in a while,” she retorted.

  Nick buried his face in her hair and breathed deep. “Your hair smells good. I can smell you on my pillow when you’re not there. When I’m not with you, I can’t stop thinking about how good your hair smells.”

  A spate of shivers tickled her, but he wasn’t finished.

  “I think about you when I hear songs on the radio, too.”

  Bess burrowed into his arms, her face against his chest. Under them, the sand was chilly, and above them, the ocean breeze, but in Nick’s arms she wasn’t cold. He squeezed her.

  “And fine, now I’ll think about you when I look at the stars, too. Are you happy?”

  She pulled away to look at him. “Yes.”

  “Jesus. Girls,” he said in a disgusted voice.

  “Boys,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

  He kissed her until she couldn’t breathe. “It’s getting late. You’d better go home. I’ve got to work early tomorrow.”

  “Me, too.” They climbed to their feet.

  He walked her back to her house, stopping to pick up the plundered six-pack along the way. At her door he set down the beer and tied the bandanna around her hair. He kissed her, pressing up against the stucco wall, his hand going easily beneath her knee to lift it so he could move against her.

  “Go inside,” Nick whispered hoarsely into her ear. “Before we do it again, right here. We already took a stupid chance tonight.”

  So he had been thinking of it, too. “I know.”

  He let her go. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Nick!” she called after him.

  He topped and turned.

  “You can trust me,” Bess told him. “I mean it.”

  He came back to her. She thought he meant to kiss her, and had already tilted her mouth for it, but Nick instead just looked.

  “Everyone says that, Bess.”

  “I know,” she told him without lowering her mouth, still tempting him to touch it with his. “But I mean it.”

  He kissed her then, soft and slow instead of hard and fast.

  “I believe you,” he said, and left without looking back.

  It wasn’t until she was in her bed, showered and dressed in warm pajamas, that Bess allowed herself to wonder what he believed. That he could trust her? Or just that she meant it?

  And did it matter, in the end?

  CHAPTER 33

  Now

  Vacations, when the boys were small, had been less than relaxing. Andy was fond of “big” trips to places like the Bahamas, the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone Park. Even when Connor and Robbie were too young to appreciate the nuances of beauty in the places they visited, Andy had insisted that if he was going to take a trip, he wanted to go somewhere he’d never been. By the time the boys reached high school, the yearly vacations had ended. Andy had apparently decided the sights he hadn’t seen weren’t worth the effort to share with teenage sons who didn’t appreciate them any more than they had as children, but who were more vociferous about their lack of desire to go. He and Bess had gone on exactly one couples vacation, to an all-inclusive resort in Mexico. She’d gotten badly sunburned and he’d come down with food poisoning.

  Neither of them had ever really talked about their reasons for not taking advantage of the beach house Bess’s parents had finally inherited from her dad’s parents. Andy, in fact, never spoke about the beach house at all, not even when Bess’s parents died within a few months of one another and the house officially passed to her. Bess hadn’t brought it up, either, though upon discovering it, both Connor and Robbie were more excited about it than they had ever been about Mount Rushmore.

  Though they’d been to many different beaches in their lives, now both of Bess’s sons took to the Atlantic water as if born to it. Within three weeks of arriving both had picked up as many work hours as they could, but when they weren’t at work or asleep, Connor and Robbie spent their days toasting themselves on the sand. They met girls, of course, and Bess had expected no less. Both her sons had always been popular with the girls. They made friends and brought them home to hang out on the deck, eating the burgers she bought for them to grill. The beach house had become “the” place to hang out among the local crowd of young people working there for the summer.

  Bess didn’t mind, exactly. It had been the same at home, where their house was the place for all the neighborhood kids to play. She was the Popsicle mom, the one who kept a drawer full of spare toothbrushes for impromptu sleepovers. She’d always been the mom the kids could count on to pop corn and order pizza during monster movie marathons, and to give anyone a ride home who needed it.

  She didn’t speak of the relief it brought her to see Connor and Robbie recreating here the life they’d had at home. It was the surest sign, to her, that they were going to be all right, despite the upheaval she and Andy were putting them through.

  The drawback to hosting the town’s youth was, of course, the complete lack of privacy. So far neither Connor nor Robbie seemed to have noticed Nick never really left the house or the small patch of beach in front of it. Caught up in their own jobs and new friends, they didn’t pay much attention to him. Bess, however, was constantly aware of Nick’s presence as more part of the crowd than she was. He joined the boys occasionally for a
few games on the video game player, or hung out on the deck at night, playing cards, but he spent just as much time in his small room with the door closed. He was as easily a part of the boys’ world as he was of hers. It was only Bess who stood apart as one of the grown-ups now, and no longer one of the kids.

  She didn’t ask Nick what he did for hours in his room, but from the periodically changing gaps in the bookshelves she guessed he was reading a lot. She was reading a lot, too, and God help her, much the way she had as a young mother prayed for the day when both boys would be in school at the same time, she counted the minutes until they’d both be at work.

  She spent three agonizingly long weeks in which Connor worked early and Robbie worked late, and the house teemed with newfound friends in nearly every spare moment between. But at last both sons were scheduled for the early shifts, though Connor was out the door before Robbie, who’d spiffed up Bess’s old bike and had been riding it back and forth to work.

  “What are you doing?” Robbie asked around a mouthful of cereal.

  Bess looked up from the folder of brochures. “I’m making sure the house is winter-ready. It’s never really been a year-round residence. If we’re going to stay here full-time I need to make some changes.”

  “Yeah, like giving me the bigger room.” Robbie grinned. “Conn’ll be at college. He won’t need it.”

  Bess laughed. “We could get rid of the bunk beds. That would give you a lot more room in there. We could get you a new bed and desk, if you want. IKEA usually has a great sale at the end of the summer.”

  Robbie nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

  Bess flipped through a few more glossy brochures from the local heating and cooling companies. The beach house had a furnace, and the windows had all been replaced less than four years before, when her parents had been considering moving here year-round. She looked around.

  “This place is a lot smaller than the other house,” she said.

  Robbie got up to put his bowl and spoon in the dishwasher. “Sure, but it’s just you and me.”

  He sounded so offhand, so matter-of-fact, it broke Bess’s heart more than if he’d sounded upset. “Robbie? You okay with this?”

  His shoulders hunched and he busied himself with something at the counter. “Yeah, sure. People get divorced all the time. I just want you and Dad to be happy.”

  Bess got up and leaned against the counter next to him. Robbie was polishing an apple, over and over, a gesture she recognized as a ploy to give his hands something to do so he didn’t have to look at her. “You know you can talk to me about it, if you want.”

  “I don’t have anything to talk about.” He gave her a small, sideways glance and an unconvincing smile.

  “Well,” she said. “If you want to.”

  “I know, Mom.”

  Robbie had always been her snuggler, the son who brought her rocks colored with marker and weeds picked from the yard. He was the one who crept into bed with her after Andy’d left for work, to watch early morning cartoons, and the son who’d always told her about the girls he liked best. He had, at least, until a few years ago.

  “I know you know,” Bess said gently.

  Robbie looked at her then, his smile getting bigger. “I know you know I know.”

  She laughed and rolled her eyes, shooing him with her hands. “Go to work.”

  “I’m going.” He tossed the apple into the air and caught it, then leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

  “What time will you be home?”

  “I’m done at nine.” Robbie paused in the doorway. “But I’ll be home later. I’m going out with Annalise.”

  Annalise was either the tiny brunette or the redhead who wore pigtails, but Bess didn’t push for more information. “Have fun.”

  Robbie used his fingers to make two guns, pow pow! “See you, Mom.”

  He loped through the living room and thundered down the stairs, leaving behind sweet silence. Nick appeared at the top of the steps moments later, his smile saying more than words. Bess thought her heart would surely, one day, have to cease the skip and thump it always made when she saw him. Though apparently, not today.

  They met in the living room with their hands and mouths. Two weeks had been too long a time to go with little more than secret glances to sustain them. Bess was already unbuttoning his shirt when they heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

  She was expecting Robbie, coming back to retrieve something he’d forgotten, but Connor’s face appeared above the railing. He took in the sight of them without expression, noting perhaps the distance between them that wasn’t wide enough, or the mussed tangle of Bess’s hair.

  “Connor,” she said, sounding too breathless. “What are you doing home?”

  “I picked up an extra shift today so they’re giving me two lunch breaks. I came home to get some grub.” He fixed his gaze on Nick. “Hey, man. You don’t have to work today?”

  “Later,” Nick said.

  Without looking again at either of them, Connor went to the kitchen. Bess watched him pull out sandwich fixings and a bag of chips, and she glanced at Nick. Nick was watching Connor, too, his eyes narrowed. He turned his head to look at her.

  “I’ll be in my room,” he said. “If you need me.”

  His voice dipped and scratched on “need,” and Bess couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Connor to see if he’d noticed. He’d hidden his face behind a copy of the local paper, and Bess looked back at Nick with a frown.

  “Okay,” she said, loud enough for her son to hear.

  Nick smirked and ducked close to kiss her on the neck before brushing past her and down the stairs. Bess stood in the middle of the living room, breathing hard. Connor rattled the paper. Bess pretended she was dusting and straightening, an unnecessary task because the teenagers who’d adopted her house were polite enough not to leave a mess behind.

  Connor finished his food and put the dishes away and left the paper on the table, then disappeared into his room, coming out a few minutes later with a backpack. Without saying anything to Bess, he headed for the stairs.

  “Conn.”

  He stopped, but didn’t look at her.

  “What time will you be home?”

  “I don’t know,” he said sullenly. “I’m going out after work.”

  “With who?”

  “Friends.”

  “Do I know them?”

  He looked at her then, Andy’s blue eyes ablaze in his face, and Bess had to fight not to take a step back. “No.”

  She really didn’t want to take a stand in this unspoken argument. She didn’t want to fight with him about going out with his friends when that wasn’t really what they’d be arguing about at all. “What about the car?”

  “I’ll bring it back after work.”

  “So I’ll see you then, at least.”

  Connor glared. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  Bess sighed and waved her hand. “Have a good day.”

  Connor stomped down the stairs, ignoring her. Bess followed and watched through the downstairs window as he pulled out of the driveway and sped away. She waited until the car had turned the corner before she knocked on Nick’s door.

  “Come in.”

  He lay propped on the pillows, a paperback in his hands. Bess closed the door behind her. Nick lowered the book.

  “He could have seen you,” she said, referring to the kiss.

  Nick’s smile didn’t wilt, but it became suddenly brittle. “Your kid’s not an idiot, Bess.”

  “I didn’t say he was.”

  Nick tossed the book onto the desk and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “You really think he doesn’t know about us?”

  Bess lifted her chin. “I told you I wanted to have them get to know you—”

  “He knew from the first day,” Nick said. “Maybe Robbie doesn’t, but Connor does.”

  The uneasy feeling he was right didn’t make it any easier for her. They stared at each other until Bess
crossed her arms and Nick put his hands on his hips.

  “You know I’m right,” he said. “He knows I’m fucking you—”

  “Stop it!” she snapped. “Do you have to be so crude all the time?”

  “Excuse me,” Nick said coldly. “Banging? Screwing? Laying pipe? What would you rather have me say? Oh, how about making looove?” He sneered the last. “Your kid’s not a fucking idiot, Bess. Anyone who’s around us for more than a day could tell we’re fucking. You can smell it on us.”

  “Stop it,” she repeated, more softly. “That’s—”

  “It’s true,” Nick said. “And you know it.”

  “It’s more than that!”

  He had her in his arms so fast she couldn’t breathe. His mouth slid along her neck to the hollow of her throat. His arms pinned hers tight so she couldn’t move. “And you’d feel better if your kid knew you weren’t just fucking me? That it’s more than that? That would make you feel better?”

  She didn’t try to get away. “I just think it’s too soon for either of them to know anything.”

  Nick laughed against her skin. “Yeah. Right. That’s it.”

  She pushed at him until he looked at her. “They’re my children, Nick. They’re more important to me than anything else in the world. Do I want to protect them? Hell, yes.”

  He blinked, without expression. “Do you think you’ll ever tell them the truth about us?”

  Bess drew in a hitching breath. “Which one?”

  “Which truth?” Nick’s lips quirked on one side. “Nice way to play it. Answer me.” His grip tightened on her arms.

  “You know I can’t,” she said, and no matter what else she’d said before, she knew she meant this, more.

  Nick blinked again and let go of her. She stumbled back. He wiped his hands on his jeans, as if touching her had left something nasty on his fingers.

  “We don’t even know what’s going to happen,” she told him, moving forward as he moved back. There wasn’t enough room for this dance, but she stopped just before touching him.

  “Admit it,” he said. “You don’t give a flying fuck about what’s going to happen. You don’t care if I up and disappear back into the gray. You just care about scratching your itch and making sure nobody figures out your dirty little secret.”