Just One Kiss: A Harbor Pointe Novel

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Just One Kiss: A Harbor Pointe Novel Page 25

by Courtney Walsh


  He shook his head. “It’s just crazy enough to be right.” He kissed her again, this time softer, gentler, sweeter, as if savoring every part of her in this moment.

  “I told you,” he said.

  “Told me what?”

  “It would just take one kiss to prove this isn’t over.”

  She didn’t argue. Instead, she pulled him closer, her kisses so intent they proved his point.

  She’d forgotten the way his lips tasted, distinctly and uniquely Josh, the way he inhaled her as if drinking her in made the whole experience that much richer. She’d forgotten how it felt to rest in the strength of his embrace, and how he made her believe she could do anything simply by the way he looked at her—like she’d hung the moon.

  With his body pressed against hers and his hands searching for a safe place to land, Carly took a fleeting moment to savor him as if this all made perfect sense. In her kisses, she unleashed the fire of passion she’d forgotten she held and let herself fall deeper into the warmth of him.

  Were David and Jaden right? Did she still love Josh?

  His kisses turned hurried again, and she responded to the height of his desire, wishing they could stop time, wishing away the pain of a past that had hung them both out to dry.

  He pulled away, and in the absence of his lips on hers, she covered her mouth with her hand and watched him inhale—exhale—then inhale again, as if it was impossible to catch his breath.

  He took a step back, then met her eyes. “You’re so beautiful, Carly.”

  She looked away. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  He tipped her chin up with his hand, forcing her gaze. “There haven’t been any other girls.”

  She frowned, a nervous laugh escaping through her lips, but when she steadied her eyes on his she saw he wasn’t kidding. “What do you mean?”

  “There’s only ever been you.”

  He’d never loved anyone else?

  He walked over to a small table in the entryway and picked up his wallet, opened it and pulled out a folded sheet of what looked like notebook paper. He unfolded it and handed it to her.

  Her eyes fell on the page and the familiar words he’d written so many years ago came into focus through her clouded eyes. “Is this . . . ?”

  “I made you a promise.”

  She looked at the paper in her hand. “I don’t understand.”

  “I promise to cherish you. To take care of you. To do what’s best for you and to always put your happiness before my own.” He recited the words steadily from memory. “I promise that in all things you will forever be my always.”

  She shook her head. “You mean there’s been no one serious?” That made sense. She’d dated, after all, but none of those short-lived relationships had turned into anything. Perhaps it was the same for him?

  “No, Carly.” He took her hand and kissed her palm. “I mean there’s been no one.”

  She pulled her hand away. “This doesn’t make sense.” Her heart pounded through her chest now. She spun around, walking toward the blue light dancing in the living room, simply to put distance between her body and Josh’s.

  He made her feel things she shouldn’t feel. As if all the sleeping places inside of her had suddenly awakened, quickening her pulse, spinning her mind. And now this? What did he mean there had been no one else? How was that even possible?

  Josh likely had been propositioned on a weekly basis, more so since his app took off and he’d grown wealthy—no way he’d resisted this whole time.

  “It’s pretty straight-forward. I haven’t been with anyone else—” He cut himself off, folding the sheet of paper and tucking it back in his wallet.

  “Why do you have that?”

  He met her eyes from across the room, and she saw the hurt he didn’t even bother to try and hide. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you left—why would you keep the vows you wrote? You broke them.” Her mind worked to wrap itself around the idea that Josh might’ve been faithful to her in his absence, as if they were legally bound, as if he owed it to her.

  But no, he’d made his choice. He walked out on them. His actions had broken those vows ages ago.

  “I didn’t.” The words were clipped. “I’ve cherished you. I’ve put your happiness before my own—don’t you see that?”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

  He pushed his hand through his hair, an exasperated sound escaping his lips. “I left so you and Jaden would have a shot—so you’d be happy.”

  “What?” Disbelief worked its way through her mind as she struggled to understand.

  “I know it didn’t exactly make sense, but I did what I thought was best.”

  “Josh, you walked out on us.”

  “You don’t understand.” His words were spiked with frustration. “I left because it was better for you guys.”

  “No,” she snapped. “I don’t get that at all. Do you know how hard it was raising a baby by myself?” Her voice caught in her throat and she struggled to swallow, struggled to speak. “I was eighteen. I had no idea what I was doing.”

  “You had everything figured out from the start, Carly,” he said. “You didn’t need me. You didn’t need anyone.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I tried to help you, but I never did anything the right way. I always felt like a screw-up.”

  “And that’s my fault?”

  He sighed. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  “You are. You’re saying I made you feel like you didn’t know what you were doing.”

  “Well, you did!” He shouted the words, his anger flaring. “And then you make these assumptions about me like you’ve got everything all figured out, just like you did today.”

  Carly’s jaw went slack. “It was an honest mistake, and unlike you, I apologized.”

  “You get these ideas in your head, Carly, but you don’t know the whole story. You don’t know—” Again, he stopped short of saying what she could only imagine was something very important.

  “What don’t I know?” She knew everything—didn’t she?

  “Forget it.” Josh stared at the floor and drew in a slow breath. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

  “How can you not see how hypocritical this is?” she asked, not willing to let it go. “You pull these vows out like I should be impressed you haven’t slept with a bunch of women—”

  “No, Carly. I haven’t slept with any women. Only you.”

  The words hung there, filling the space between them.

  “For me, it’s always only been you.”

  “Then why did you leave?” Tears sprang to her eyes and she willed herself not to cry. “Don’t you regret it at all?”

  He moved across the room, eyes locked on to hers, and when he reached her, he stopped, almost as if he didn’t dare touch her now. “I regret that I wasn’t the man you needed.”

  A tear slid down her cheek. “But you don’t regret leaving?”

  His gaze dipped to her mouth then back to her eyes and he shook his head ever so slightly. “I did what was best for you and Jaden.”

  She stepped back on wobbly legs, eyes filling with fresh tears she would not let herself cry. “This was a terrible mistake.”

  He reached for her, but she yanked her hand away.

  “Carly—don’t.”

  She started for the door but stopped in the entryway and looked back at him. “I never thought my heart could feel as broken as it did the morning I realized you were gone. But I think this is even worse—so congratulations, Josh. You’re the only man who’s ever broken my heart twice.” She wiped her cheeks dry with the sleeves of the tattered sweatshirt. “And I’m the fool who fell for you all over again so shame on me.”

  His eyes had turned glassy, but he said nothing.

  And Carly walked out the door, certain that, at long last, things between her and Josh were officially over.

  32

  Josh stared at the em
pty space in the entryway, the memory of Carly’s kisses so fresh in his mind they brought him physical pain. How good it had felt to hold her, to explore her body with his hands, to taste her lips on his tongue.

  He wanted her—every part of him wanted her. But more than that, he loved her. How could she not see that? How could she doubt for a second that he’d done the right thing—he’d vowed to put her happiness first. If she knew the things he’d seen, the demons he battled—she would thank him for leaving when he did.

  Wouldn’t she?

  He sank back onto the couch where he’d fallen asleep hours before she came. It had been a fitful sleep, interrupted and frustrating, and when he saw her standing at the door, for a moment he thought he was dreaming.

  Now that dream had turned into a nightmare.

  He loved her—was God really going to make him let her go—again?

  He clicked the television off. Maybe it was time to tell her the truth, the secrets he’d spent his whole life keeping.

  But what would she say if she knew the real reason why he’d left? There would be no coming back after that. He’d lose her for good.

  He tried to sleep. He tried focusing on nothing, but the image of his little brother’s face kept creeping into his mind.

  Dylan.

  He didn’t talk about Dylan. Nobody talked about Dylan. The only reason Carly even knew Dylan had existed was because she saw a photograph of Dylan and Josh, the one Josh still kept in his desk.

  She’d asked about Josh’s little brother, but he hadn’t been forthcoming with the details.

  “He died when I was younger,” he’d said. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

  And he didn’t.

  They’d moved to Harbor Pointe to escape the memory of what happened with Dylan. Why was it coming back now—as if it had happened yesterday?

  The details had always been a thick fog at the back of his mind.

  “It was an accident, Josh,” his mother had said. “Try not to dwell on it.”

  But how could he not? It was his fault. His actions had caused his brother’s death.

  They’d grown up in a neighborhood with boxy houses and small yards, so all the kids played at the park down the block. It was a neighborhood park with swings and a slide and a merry-go-round. Sometimes in the summer, they spent their entire day on that playground.

  That day, they got there late. The sun was setting, and it was a strange time for them to be at the park at all. They hadn’t had dinner, and Josh’s stomach growled.

  He rolled over, trying to shove the thoughts aside. He worked to fill his mind with the image of Carly instead of the image of Dylan—with his dark, curly hair and big blue eyes. With Dylan being the typical tag-along little brother, the two boys were inseparable. Josh liked being admired, and Dylan looked at his older brother like he was a celebrity.

  What happened next?

  His thought bank was empty.

  But then he remembered. The ambulance. The sirens. The paramedic picking up Dylan’s limp body and putting it onto a stretcher.

  One of the other kids had run home to fetch their parents, but Josh stayed frozen in the spot where Dylan had collapsed, right next to the merry-go-round, which had gone eerily still.

  His parents rushed through the yards and into the park, arriving moments before the ambulance pulled up.

  “What happened?” Josh’s mom knelt down next to Dylan, whose eyes were closed. She gave the boy’s cheek three quick, but gentle, slaps. “Dylan, wake up.” She looked at Josh, her eyes wide. “What happened?”

  “They were rough-housing again,” his dad said. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  Shock and fear prevented Josh from speaking.

  The ambulance screamed in and two paramedics raced toward them. Gloria moved aside to give them space to check on Dylan as a small crowd of neighbors gathered.

  “Do we know what happened?” one of the paramedics asked Josh.

  “He—” Josh started.

  “They were messing around, you know, being boys, and he hit his head on the merry-go-round,” his father interrupted.

  Josh looked up at his dad, who quickly met his son’s eyes. “I’m always telling them not to push each other, but they don’t listen.”

  “So you pushed him and he fell?” the paramedic asked, eyes steady on Josh.

  But Josh couldn’t speak.

  He couldn’t speak because he didn’t remember. He didn’t know what had happened to his brother. All he knew was that one minute he was fine and the next, he was on the ground, unconscious.

  “Josh, answer him.”

  Josh’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

  The paramedics lifted Dylan up onto the stretcher. “One of you can ride in the back with us.” They rushed off and Gloria ran to catch up, leaving Josh sitting on the ground in the dirt under the heavy weight of his father’s glare.

  “You better pray your brother is okay,” his dad said.

  Josh struggled to understand. Why didn’t he remember?

  “What happened, Josh? You were mad at Dylan earlier because he took your Game Boy. Were you fighting? Did he make you mad enough that you hit him? Pushed him down?”

  Josh shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  His father frowned. “Get up.”

  Josh stood, expecting the full weight of his dad’s anger, but there were people around, and that was the only reason his dad let him walk home without a scratch.

  “I’m going to the hospital,” he said when they reached the driveway. “You go inside and start praying your brother is okay.”

  Josh ran up to his room, flopped onto the bed and cried for an hour straight, praying—begging God—that his brother would be okay.

  But when his parents came home later that night, it was clear by his mother’s tear-stained face and the emptiness in his father’s eyes that God hadn’t heard Josh’s prayers.

  Dylan didn’t make it. He had a brain hemorrhage as a result of being struck on the head.

  “Josh, some people are going to come by tomorrow and ask you some questions,” his dad said.

  Josh frowned. “About what?”

  “About what happened on the playground.”

  His mother cried quietly.

  “But I don’t remember,” Josh said. “He just fell down.”

  His father shook his head. “Don’t start making up stories. You’ll sound like a liar.”

  “I’m not—”

  “When they get here, you tell them the truth. You were playing. You pushed your brother. He fell and hit his head.”

  Josh looked at his mom. Why wasn’t she saying anything? Was that what happened? Why couldn’t he remember?

  “Sometimes we get angry, and sometimes our anger makes us do things we don’t mean,” his dad said. “We know you didn’t mean to hurt your brother.”

  Josh choked back a sob. “I didn’t—”

  “Stop lying!” his father barked. “The doctors said he had to have been pushed, Joshua. He was pushed and he fell and hit his head.”

  Josh dropped to the ground. Tears streamed down his face as sobs took over his eight-year-old body.

  His brother was dead—and it was all his fault.

  The following day, he overheard the police talking to his parents after their short interview with Josh. He’d told them exactly what his father said he should. They’d been playing. He pushed Dylan. Dylan fell and hit his head on the metal merry-go-round.

  But there were questions they’d asked that Josh couldn’t answer.

  Blank spots in his memory that didn’t make sense.

  “We have some concerns,” one of the officers said. “It sounds like he might’ve blacked out during some of the argument with his brother.”

  Josh wanted to tell them there wasn’t an argument, but he couldn’t say that for certain, could he?

  “What does that mean?” his mother asked in a tone so hushed he was surely not meant to overhear.<
br />
  “We think you should take him to a child psychologist,” the officer said. “If he has fits of rage that lead to blackouts, that’s cause for concern.”

  “He could be a danger to himself or, really, anyone else.”

  “But Joshua is such a mild-mannered child,” Gloria said.

  “Just have him talk to someone,” the officer said.

  “We’ll have more questions,” the other officer said. “We can’t exactly piece together what happened, but we need to keep an eye on your son.”

  They moved toward the entryway and Josh raced away from the door. Was what they said true? Was he a danger to the people he loved? How had this happened—was something wrong with him?

  A month went by and his parents never took him to a child psychologist. The police spoke with him two more times, but nothing ever came of their questions. Another month passed and Josh’s father moved them to Harbor Pointe—to escape the rumors, he’d said. They needed a fresh start.

  When he met Carly that first day in town, she’d been like a beacon of light. It was as if somehow he knew that she was the life preserver that would keep him from sinking.

  Even at that young age, he’d been so drawn to her, but even she knew nothing about Dylan. She didn’t know Josh’s fit of rage had led to his brother’s death. Every time she talked about what kind of monster Josh’s father was, all he could think was I’m that same kind of monster.

  If she knew that, she’d be horrified. He’d lose her forever.

  But now, years between that day and this, he thought perhaps it was time to tell her the whole truth. She’d be horrified, yes, but would she finally understand why he’d left? Why he didn’t regret it? Would she see, once and for all, that in leaving, Josh had saved them?

  And as he drifted off to sleep, he thought maybe it was a chance he finally needed to take.

  33

  Carly and Jaden hadn’t been to Sunday dinner in a couple of weeks, and as they were leaving church, it was clear they weren’t going to get out of it again.

  She’d sat through the message thinking the kinds of thoughts that made her blush, replaying her short-lived make-out session with Josh. She’d felt like a teenager all over again, and for a few delicious moments, their past hadn’t mattered.

 

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