Colton's Secret History

by Jennifer D. Bokal

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “There’s too much history between us, and I can’t see repeating the same mistakes.”

  Luke’s spine stiffened. He moved his leg and they no longer touched. “A mistake? Is that what I am to you—a freaking mistake?”

  Damn. Bridgette’s chest contracted.

  Then memories of that day returned to her with a clarity that stole her breath. Bridgette was a freshman in college, just nineteen years old, and away from home for the first time in her life. She’d locked herself in one of the stalls of the communal bath and leaned against the metal wall. She stared at the plastic tube in her hand. A plus sign appeared in the results window of the pregnancy test.

  She didn’t need to read the directions. She knew what it meant. She was pregnant with Luke Walker’s baby.

  She had wrapped the pregnancy test in half a roll of toilet paper and shoved it deep into the garbage can by the door. Her eyes burned. Thank goodness that her roommate was in class. Bridgette couldn’t have faced anyone else.

  All the same, she couldn’t suffer through the moment alone. She had to call, well, someone.

  Her mother? Lilly was near to perfect and wouldn’t understand how Bridgette—smart as she was—would make such a dumb mistake.

  Jordana? Yvette? Sure, her sisters cared, but what could they have done?

  Bridgette had known there was really only one person for her to call. Sliding up the face of her phone, she’d typed a series of numbers.

  “Hey,” said Luke, answering after the second ring. Her chest had hurt, making it hard to breathe. “Bridgette, is that you? Are you there?”

  She’d wiped her eyes and put a smile in her voice. “Luke, how are you?”

  “Lousy,” he’d said. “I’m working, like constantly. You know my dad. He’s not feeling too hot and can’t work too much. I had to drop out of my intro to engineering class at the community college. This is total crap.”

  “I’m sorry, Luke. That does sound awful.”

  “It is.” He had paused and huffed a breath. “What’s worse, I’m actually worried. What if something’s wrong with my dad again, you know?”

  “I know,” she said. In that moment, Bridgette had made a decision. She wouldn’t burden Luke further.

  “Did you call for a reason? Or just to chat?”

  “Just to chat, I guess.”

  “Listen, I love the sound of your voice and I miss you, babe. A customer just came in. I gotta blow. Laters.”

  She never even got a chance to say goodbye. Before she could speak, the line was dead. Her stomach had contracted, bending her almost double. As the pain ebbed, Bridgette tried to tell herself that it was all a normal part of pregnancy.

  Then again, she knew better.

  Her period had started later that night.

  And she had been left with a single question. What if I had said something to Luke? Would things have turned out differently?

  Then she was back in the present. He was sitting beside her as the last light of day slipped beyond the horizon.

  “Listen, Luke,” she began. “I hadn’t meant to imply that there’s something wrong with you.”

  He looked over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed. “Did you hear that?”

  “No,” she said, following his gaze. “Hear what?”

  “There’s something in the bushes.” Luke rose to his feet and walked toward a copse of trees with scrub clinging to the base of their trunks.

  “Elves?” she joked. “Or is it a raccoon.”

  “It definitely sounded like someone walking through the woods. Bigger than a raccoon and more real than an elf.”

  “This is all private property,” said Bridgette. “Nobody else should be out here.”

  “Key word—should. Stay here,” he said. “I’m going to check it out.”

  His sudden alarm left her heart racing. Bridgette stumbled after him. “You aren’t going to leave me all by myself.”

  He paused and worked his jaw back and forth. Bridgette could tell that he wanted to argue. She didn’t wait for what he planned to say, and she strode toward the tree line. Luke caught up with her. Grabbing her arm, he pulled back gently. “At least let me go first.”

  They walked into the woods. The spindly branches of trees rose to a sky of soft blue. Dried leaves covered the ground and crunched with each step taken. As the sun began to set, the air held a chill. “Maybe you just heard the wind in the trees,” Bridgette suggested, even though she hadn’t recalled a breeze blowing.

  “Maybe,” said Luke, his tone guarded.

  “Well, whatever you heard is obviously gone now.”

  He turned a slow circle, scanning the forest. “I guess you’re right. We should head back.”

  Side by side, Luke and Bridgette retraced their steps. Her earlier foible sat heavy on her chest. “You aren’t a mistake,” she said with an exhale. “There are just things that happened between you and me, things that make our past complicated. Do you understand?”

  For a long moment, Luke said nothing. Then he grumbled, “Understand? Not at all.”

  “Can you trust me that we had complications and those scare the hell out of me?”

  “Oh, so now I’m a complication?” His tone was as hard as flint.

  “No, that’s not what I meant, either.” They’d returned to the clearing with the bench and the well. “We should just head back to the fishing cabin. If your dad wakes up, he’ll wonder where we’ve gone.”

  Luke reached for her arm, pulling Bridgette to a stop. “Not a chance. It sounds like there’s something important I need to know—and you haven’t told me.”

  Bridgette shook her head and shrugged off his touch. “Forget I said anything.”

  “You’ve dropped more than one cryptic hint, Bridgette. Whatever the problem was, I have a right to know.”

  “The last time we were together at Lake Kanopolis,” she began.

  “The night before you went to college, you mean?”

  “We, well, had sex.”

  “I remember that, too.”

  Bridgette couldn’t find the right words. Then again there was nothing complicated about what she needed to say. “I got pregnant.”

  Luke went pale. “You what?”

  “About two months after I went to college, I realized I was pregnant.”

  “Why in the hell is this the first time I’m hearing about a baby?”

  “I called you,” she began. “Your father was sick, forcing you to drop out of school. I couldn’t add to your concerns. I decided to call you later and then...” Her voice caught with emotion. She shrugged.

  “And then,” Luke prodded.

  “And then.” Bridgette’s eyes stung with unshed tears. She tried to blink them away, but they slipped down her cheeks. “I lost the baby and there was nothing more to tell.”

  Luke looked at the ground and shook his head. “I never knew.”

  “Of course not,” said Bridgette, wiping away tears with the side of her sleeve. “I never told you.”

  “Have you ever told anyone? Or have you been living with this secret your entire life?”

  She shrugged again.

  “Your sisters?” he asked. “Your mom?”

  With a shake of her head, she said, “No, none of them.”

  “You told your late husband, right?”

  For the first time in her life, she realized telling Henry had been a betrayal of Luke. “I’m sorry. I just thought that after the miscarriage there was nothing else to concern you. I know now that I was wrong. I should have said something to you at some time.”

  Luke stepped toward Bridgette and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He pulled her to him. She laid her head upon his chest and inhaled. His scent, the sweet smell of fresh-cut lumber and the musky scent of his skin, overwhelmed her s
enses. His hands rested on the small of her back. Her breasts were pressed against his pecs. To be held by Luke reminded Bridgette of how long she’d gone without the company of a man.

  “I’m not mad,” he said, his words washing over her.

  Lifting her chin, Bridgette looked up at Luke. “What are you, then?”

  “Sad, I guess. I wish things would’ve worked out differently.”

  In the days and weeks to come, Bridgette wasn’t sure how the kiss began. Had she placed her mouth on Luke’s first? Or was it the other way around? What she did know was that their lips were pressed together, their tongues in a tangled dance.

  He gripped her breast, rubbing his thumb over her nipple. Despite her layers of clothes, she hardened under his touch.

  “Oh, Luke,” she moaned.

  He placed a line of kisses on her throat and she began to burn from within. Desire consumed her. She splayed her hands across his chest, his heartbeat racing beneath her palms. Bridgette reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, exposing a line of his abdomen. She ran her fingers over his flesh.

  He gripped her ass, pressing her to him. He was hard and wanted her as much as she wanted him. She lowered her touch, feeling his length through the fabric of his jeans. He let out a low growl.

  “You like when I touch you like that?” she asked, nipping his bottom lip with her teeth.

  “God, yes,” he breathed.

  She worked the buttons of his fly loose and reached into his jeans, stroking the silky skin of his sex. It had been so long since she’d touched anyone in an intimate way. For a moment, Bridgette wondered if she’d forgotten how to give—or receive—pleasure. A bead of moisture clung to the head of his penis. She collected it with the tip of her finger and glided her palm down his shaft.

  He claimed her mouth with his, and this time the kiss was hard and urgent. “God, you’re so sexy and that feels fantastic,” he said, grabbing a handful of her hair. “But I want to make you feel good, too.”

  “I can wait my turn,” she said.

  “Or we can do this together.”

  “Out here? In the woods?” She worked her hand up and down his length, and Luke hardened with her touch.

  “Who’s here to see us?” he asked, unfastening the top button of her pants. He pulled down the zipper and reached into her jeans and then her panties.

  Bridgette was already wet, and he slid his finger over the opening of her sex. His touch sent a shock wave of pleasure through her body, and she trembled with desire. “Do you like it when I touch you like that?” he asked, echoing her earlier question.

  “Yes,” she said. She parted her thighs, giving Luke more access. Bridgette could feel herself slipping away and expanding at the same time. She was becoming one with a feeling as old as time, while experiencing something that was wholly new.

  The climax crashed down on Bridgette with the force of an avalanche and left her breathless. How long had it been since a hand other than her own had brought her pleasure? Then again, she knew the answer.

  The last time she had been touched was two years ago. For the first time, she no longer needed to cling to the past. The question was—what did Bridgette want to find in her future?

  Chapter 14

  Luke wanted one thing in the world—to make love to Bridgette Colton. He slipped his finger inside of her. Her muscles clenched and pulsed as the last of the climax rippled through her body. She continued to touch him, working her hand up and down his shaft. The pleasure was exquisite, yet it wasn’t enough to satisfy his need.

  “I want you,” he said, his mouth on hers. “Tell me you want me, too.”

  “I want you, Luke. I want you inside of me so bad.”

  It was all the invitation he needed. From his wallet, he took out a condom. Then Luke pulled down his pants, just enough to free himself. As he rolled on the condom, Bridgette kicked off one shoe and stripped out of one leg of her pants.

  He sat on the bench. She sank down on Luke, taking him in one stroke. His nuts tightened, warning Luke that he was ready to climax. That wouldn’t do. He wanted to take his time with Bridgette, to savor the moment as she rode him.

  Long and slow, she moved down and back up, until just his tip was inside of her. Luke looked to where their bodies met and became one. The tightening in his balls was an excruciating bliss.

  Wrapping his hand through her hair, Luke pulled back on her head, exposing her neck and bringing up her breasts. He kissed the skin of her throat while working his hand into her shirt, her bra. He twisted each nipple between his finger and thumb and smiled as she moaned with pleasure. Her strokes became faster, more frantic. Her breathing came in short gasps.

  Luke lifted her shirt, exposing her breasts. He took one of Bridgette’s nipples in his mouth, rolling it with his tongue. She cried out as she came, and Luke could hold on no longer. A prickling began at the back of his neck, traveling down his spine. It ended with his climax, which came hard and fast. As his pulse slowed and the sweat from his brow dried, Luke gently kissed Bridgette’s lips.

  “That was magnificent,” he said. “You were magnificent.”

  “You aren’t so bad yourself,” said Bridgette, nuzzling his neck. “I’d forgotten how good this could be.”

  Sure, he wondered if Bridgette meant sex in general or, specifically, making love to him. But he knew enough to not ask, to just appreciate the compliment—and the way she fitted perfectly in his arms.

  He wound his fingers through hers. “I’m glad we found each other again,” he said. “And that you’re back home.”

  “It’s just while I complete this investigation. Then I’ll go back to Wichita.”

  Luke had a bad feeling about where Bridgette’s head—and heart—might be as far as he was concerned. He swore, if only to himself, that he’d give her all the space she needed and not push for anything more than this moment.

  Bridgette wiggled off his lap and sat on the bench. Slipping into her pants, she refastened her jeans and put on her shoe. Retying the laces, she said, “I can’t make any promises to you about the future. All I can offer you is the next few weeks, and if that’s not enough, well, then...” She let her words unravel the thread that tied his heartstrings together.

  “I understand,” said Luke, a throbbing in his chest. Hadn’t he known from the beginning that any connection with Bridgette was fleeting? Being with her was like holding sand in his grip. The tighter he squeezed, the more of her slipped away.

  All the same, he had hoped for a different answer. More than that, he thought the news of the pregnancy lost had brought them closer. Now it seemed as if Bridgette was less accessible than ever.

  Then again, he had other more immediate problems. Like what to do with the used condom? Thank goodness he had a few crumpled napkins in his jeans pocket and a plastic bag from the store in his jacket.

  Bridgette turned away and gave Luke a moment of privacy while he got cleaned up. Luke stood and shoved the plastic bag deep into the back pocket of his jeans. He’d throw the whole mess away once he got a minute.

  Maybe his thoughts about Bridgette were too harsh. Before making love, he hadn’t asked for any promises—and she hadn’t given any.

  The sky was orange, with pink at the edges. Soon it would be full dark. “We better head back. I’m sure my dad’s awake by now.”

  “And he’s worried about us?” Bridgette offered.

  They walked away from the bench and the well, their fingers were close but not touching. Luke dared not take Bridgette’s hand in his own although he wanted to all the same.

  “Dad, worried?” Luke echoed with a chuckle. “I doubt it. I think he’s helped himself to the food you brought, and we might not have much left for our own sandwiches by the time we get back.”

  Bridgette folded her arms over her chest and gave a small laugh, as well.

  “Cold
?” he asked.

  “A little,” she said. Luke slipped out of his coat and draped the jacket over her shoulders. “Thanks,” she said with a smile.

  Luke looked away. There, in the distance, he saw the glint of a light. He stopped. “What’s over there?” he asked.

  “The woods,” said Bridgette.

  “No houses? No neighbors?”

  “No. The Coltons own acres of this land.”

  Luke went cold and it wasn’t from the chilly night air. He jogged toward the light. Then, unmistakable in the silence of the woods, was the sound of a car’s engine revving.

  * * *

  Julia stared through the ocular lens—the binoculars trained on Luke. His lips were pressed together. He scanned the woods. She would have sworn he was too far away to hear when she started the engine.

  She’d been wrong.

  Dropping her foot on the accelerator, she pulled hard on the steering wheel. The car jostled over the rutted track as the wheels dipped over the lip of a ravine. She slammed her foot on the brake and jerked the gearshift into Reverse. Slowly the car inched backward. She put the auto in Drive and turned the car back toward the road. With the grille finally facing forward, she sped down the bumpy track that wound through the woods. The front fender of her car rose as she crested a hill. For a moment, Julia was suspended in the air, and then the tires slammed down. Julia hit the seat and her teeth cracked.

  She pressed her foot onto the accelerator harder. The undercarriage of her car mowed down a small tree. The engine whined as the car shimmied.

  Dammit.

  Dammit.

  Dammit.

  What had she broken now? Or maybe the question she should be asking was whether the car was able to get away.

  The track leveled off and the shaking stopped. The squealing engine quieted at least a little.

  Last night she had told the police officer that she’d never bother Luke or Bridgette again. Certainly, following them to the lake, trespassing while spying on them in the most intimate moment, would be considered bothering.

  What did that mean for her? Would the police be waiting when she got home?