by T. L. Haddix
His tension was plain to see in every line of his body. Byrdie watched him make the first pass across the yard. He waved at her as he passed the door, and she went inside, heading back to the kitchen. Ainsley would be out of the pool soon, and Byrdie wanted to have a healthy smoothie ready for her when she got out.
The last few days had been particularly hard on Ainsley, and on Byrdie, as well. After much cajoling on Byrdie’s part, they’d driven back up to Lexington for the Fourth of July. The break was much needed because the stress of going through Geneva Brewer’s personal files was wearing on them both. They’d spent three days at home before returning to Hazard the day before. Being away from Geneva’s house had helped, but Byrdie was still concerned about Ainsley.
The files she’d wanted to find most of all, the files pertaining to the Campbells, were missing.
Byrdie was sure the files were in the house somewhere. They just had to keep looking. But Ainsley was terrified they’d fallen into the wrong hands.
When the icy drink was blended, Byrdie took it down the hall toward the pool. She slowed to a stop, though, when she saw that Ainsley had gotten out of the water. Ben, instead of being where he should be in the front yard, had made his way to the back, weed eater in hand.
Ainsley had her back to him and apparently hadn’t seen or heard his approach since she was toweling off, oblivious. Byrdie went outside, drawing their attention. Ainsley met her halfway.
“Oh, thank you. I need a smoothie this morning.”
“Figured you might. You have company, baby girl.” Byrdie nodded in Ben’s direction.
Ainsley inhaled loudly when she saw Ben. Byrdie had to move quickly to catch the cup as it slipped from Ainsley’s hand. That pulled Ainsley’s attention off Ben, who was setting the weed eater on the ground, and she apologized.
“He’s here to cut the grass,” Byrdie told her in a low voice as Ben approached. “Do you want me to stay here or give you some privacy?”
“Don’t go far.”
“I’ll be in the dining room, then.” Byrdie gave her a reassuring smile and went inside to keep a close eye on them. It was all she could do to not stomp back out there and protect her baby, but she knew Ainsley had to handle this on her own.
Ben was dumbstruck when he came around the corner of the house and saw Ainsley getting out of the pool. She was clad in a simple bathing suit, nothing skimpy or provocative, but she filled it out nicely, from what he could see of her back. He moved closer to her instinctively, not paying attention to anything other than Ainsley. A little surprised that she hadn’t noticed him, he cleared his throat.
The housekeeper came outside at that moment, a frosty glass in her hand. He couldn’t hear what she said, but Ainsley, who’d started toward her, jerked around as if she’d been shot. Her eyes dropped to his hand, and he realized he was still holding the weed eater. He put it down and started toward her as the housekeeper went back inside.
Stopping several feet away, he looked her over. “Looks like you finally grew into yourself. Hello, Ainsley.”
“Ben.” She crossed her arms over her chest, but she met his eyes. “How are you?”
“I’m good. You?”
“Good, thanks. John mentioned you were back in town.”
He smiled, just barely. When he closed some of the distance between them, she shifted nervously. “I’m surprised you recognized him. I figured once you dusted us Campbells off the hem of your wedding dress, you’d forget we ever existed.”
Her arms tightened, and her chin came up. “Ben, I didn’t—,”
“‘Didn’t mean to hurt you all those years ago. Didn’t mean to lie. Didn’t mean to cheat on my fiancée with you…’ Does that cover it?” He felt his temper flare, and he stepped even closer, compensating for the steps she’d taken back. “Ainsley, darlin’, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. All’s forgiven. As a matter of fact, while you’re back in town, I thought if you had an itch you needed scratched, well, it would be the gentlemanly thing to do to offer up my services. What do you say? We could even go out to my truck, just for old time’s sake.”
“Excuse me?”
Outrage filled her face with a mottled, angry-red flush, and Ben felt an immense satisfaction in having flustered her. He lifted his hand, and using the back, ran it up her smooth arm, making it as far as her shoulder before her temper exploded.
“How dare you, you son of a bitch!” She unfolded her arms in a flash and shoved him, hard.
Before Ben could catch himself, he was falling backward, into the pool. He barely managed to catch his breath before the water closed over his head. As he broke the surface, a wide, feral grin split his face, and he shoved his hair back out of his eyes. She was a sight to behold, standing next to the pool, her eyes lit up with fury.
“Is that a no?”
She whirled around and grabbed the plastic cup off the table, and with impressive aim, she hurled it into the pool. He managed to duck the cup itself, but the contents splattered all over him.
“Go to hell!” She stormed off, and he laughed like a loon as she went.
“Already been there, darlin’.”
The windows along the back of the house shuddered when she slammed the door behind her. Ben’s laughter died, leaving something hot and dangerous in its place. Something that felt a lot like anger and hurt mixed with a healthy dose of shame for the way he’d behaved. Moving away from the mess caused by the drink, he swam to the side of the pool and hoisted himself out onto the concrete. The cap had stayed on his head, but his sunglasses now resided on the very bottom of the pool.
“Shit. And it would be the deep end.” He struggled to get his boots off, then his socks, looking up as the housekeeper hurried out the door, towels in hand.
“What in the world did you say to her?” She handed him a towel, tsking the whole time.
“Something entirely inappropriate. It was my fault.”
She planted her hands on her hips and shook her head slowly. “Oh, I’d say you both probably share the blame. The two of you… I guess what happened five years ago still rubs against you, too, doesn’t it?”
Still sitting on the concrete, Ben squinted up at her. “You know about that?”
“Sugar, I know about all of it.” She glanced into the pool. “Come on. Let’s get the net out, and you can get your glasses. But I think after that, you’d better go on to your next job. The grass here can wait.”
Ben followed her to the open pool house. “I think you’re probably right.” He took the long-handled pool skimmer she handed him. “You know, I never did learn your name.”
“I’m Byrdie. Byrdie Hagans.” She looked up at him as they walked back to the pool. “I’ve been with Ainsley since she was born. I left here not long after she married and went to her in Lexington. I know she hurt you. I know you’re angry. I can see it in your face, and I don’t blame you. Neither does she. But there’s more to it than what you know. Please, Ben, don’t hurt my little girl. She’s been hurt enough.”
Her tone was sincere and her face was solemn as she watched him. Ben was the first to look away.
“You aren’t just the housekeeper, are you?”
She gave a little laugh. “No. I’ve not been the housekeeper for a number of years now. I’m Ainsley’s friend.”
“You were here that day her mother gave me her letter. I’m assuming you know what was in the letter?”
“I do.”
“Ever had your heart broken, Byrdie? Really broken?” He fished out the glasses, as well as the cup, which he handed to her along with the net. It was her turn to look away.
“I have. I had it broken badly when I wasn’t much older than you.”
“I’ve not,” he lied. “I had my pride stomped on pretty well by your little girl, but that’s al
l. And pride’s a vengeful thing. I shouldn’t have said to her what I did. I just wanted to strike back at her a little. Get it out of my system.”
He gathered up his socks, stuffing them in his hat with the glasses, and slipped his boots back on. From the way Byrdie was twirling the net in her hands, he wondered if she was thinking of smacking him with it.
“You know what, young man? You don’t tell a lie worth a damn. Ainsley doesn’t, either. That’s why she had to write you that letter instead of breaking things off with you face-to-face. And that’s all I’m going to say about that. You have a good day, now.”
More than ready to leave, he touched his fingers to his forehead and picked up the weed eater on his way back around the house. He didn’t know how he would explain this to Kyle. He loaded up the mower and decided to head back home to change into some dry clothes before continuing on to the rest of the jobs on his list.
The rest of the day he fumed quietly, alternating between anger and hunger. Anger because the wound had been rubbed raw. Hunger because Ainsley was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She really had grown into herself. His hand still tingled where he’d touched her arm.
He’d loved her curves and softness when she was slightly overweight. But she’d dropped the extra weight in all the right places, and even from what little he’d seen, she moved with a new confidence. Her hair was longer, too, falling halfway down her back in a wet curtain. That was one of the things she’d bemoaned the most about herself when they’d been together, that her mother had made her cut her hair. Given its length now, he imagined she hadn’t cut it in years. He would give a thousand dollars to see what it looked like dry, all golden and silky, spread over his pillow, or cascading down her back as she rose over him in ecstasy…
He stopped those thoughts before they ran away with him. Nothing good would come of it.
Confusion also mixed with his emotions. What Byrdie had said just didn’t make sense. She seemed to be implying that Ainsley hadn’t been any more in control of what had transpired than he had. He would be better off not following that train of thought, either. Not right then.
One thing he knew for certain, though. She hadn’t forgotten him. Not even close. She’d shoved him so hard, he could still feel her hands on his chest. She was as angry as he was, though he couldn’t figure out why. And that anger suited him just fine.
Chapter Fourteen
Inside the house, Ainsley was in the guest room, furiously pacing. With shaking hands, she reached for a cigarette. She muttered under her breath when it took her three tries to get her lighter to work.
“‘Offer my services,’” she mocked. “‘Old time’s sake,’ he says. Oh, you bastard. You lousy bastard.”
Byrdie tapped on the door. “Ainsley Claire, what am I going to do with you?”
Ainsley stopped pacing long enough to accept the ashtray Byrdie handed her. “Is he gone?”
“Yep. Soaked to the skin, but he’s gone. What in the world did he say to you?”
“He propositioned me.”
Back and forth she paced, remembering the derision on Ben’s face as he’d made the offer. If she were being honest, there was some hurt mixed in her fury, too.
“He what?”
“Propositioned me. Said if I had an itch while I was in town, to let him know.” She scowled fiercely when Byrdie chuckled. “Just what the hell is so funny about that? The nerve of that man.”
“Oh, sweet girl, you can’t see the forest for the trees. That young man is still hurting just as much as you are.”
Ainsley doubted that. “You didn’t see his face.” All the fury went out of her, and she sat down on the edge of the bed, miserable. “Byrdie, did you see him? I mean, really see him? Why couldn’t he have gotten fat and ugly and gone bald?” She sat down the ashtray, the now-extinguished cigarette inside. “Instead, he’s gotten better with age. Like cheese.”
Byrdie sat beside her and wrapped an arm around Ainsley’s shoulders. “I did notice that he isn’t a troll, yes. You know, I think you should take him up on it.”
“You—what?” Ainsley wondered if she’d gotten water in her ears.
“I think you should take him up on it,” Byrdie repeated. “Have a fling. Set it as that from the get-go, and give yourselves the chance to get each other out of your systems.”
Stunned, Ainsley studied Byrdie closely. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. Just think about it. Either he’s serious, and he’ll take you up on it, or you’ll send him running scared.”
“Or he could take me up on it once and use the opportunity to punish me. That’s what it would be, you know. At least on his part. And I can’t say that I would blame him for wanting a little vengeance.”
“I agree. But I don’t know if it would stay that. That’s a chance you’d have to take.”
Ainsley patted Byrdie’s knee, then stood. “How would I approach the subject? Assuming I wanted to.”
“You’ll think of something, I’m sure, if the opportunity presents itself. I’m going to go fix you another drink while you get ready for the day. Your meeting with Hershel starts in less than two hours. You think you’ll be calmed down by then?”
“I’ll try. Thanks, Byrdie.”
As she showered, Ainsley used the time to get her emotions back in check. She was horribly embarrassed that she’d shoved Ben into the pool. Normally, she didn’t have a temper. She was calm, cool, collected. But he had taken her mood from zero to nuclear in an instant.
He was still as beautiful a specimen of the human male as he’d always been. He’d filled out a little more through the shoulders and chest, making Ainsley feel smaller and more feminine than she ever had, standing next to him.
She tried to put Byrdie’s suggestion to the back of her mind, but she kept coming back to it like a child picking at a wound. After showering, she slathered lotion over her arms and shoulders. As the steam cleared from the mirror, her image was revealed, and she stilled. Would she even appeal to Ben now? She’d changed so much. Loosening the towel, she let it drop and studied her reflection.
Her waist was smaller, though her hips and breasts were still womanly. Long, muscled lines, instead of the pudge she’d carried before, made up her arms and legs. She knew she wasn’t ugly. When she and Jonah attended social functions, she turned heads. But Ben wasn’t those heads. She’d never understood why he’d been attracted to her in the first place.
She told herself to stop worrying about something that would likely never happen and then finished getting ready. But as she drove to the meeting with Hershel, she couldn’t stop thinking about what it might be like if Ben had actually been serious. To say the thought of being with him intimately again was tantalizing was an understatement.
The meeting with Hershel went well, though there were a few awkward moments when Ainsley and John saw each other. She knew her guilt must have been written all over her face. She could just imagine his reaction if she mentioned the morning’s events.
“Hi, John, I feel much better now for having pushed your baby brother in the swimming pool at my house this morning. Oh, he propositioned me, but it’s okay—I’m considering taking him up on the offer.”
She didn’t see that going over too well.
After the meeting adjourned, Hershel offered to buy her lunch, but Ainsley was feeling restless. “I’ll take a rain check if that’s okay. I think I want to just get in the car and go for a drive today.”
She drove away from Hazard, south on Highway 15, heading toward the Virginia border. When she got to the lake at Carr’s Fork, she turned off and followed the winding road to the dam that formed the lake. Driving out on the road that ran along the top of the dam, she went to the cul-de-sac at the end and parked. The air was humid and hot when she got out of the car, but she ignored the
feeling of having stepped into a sauna and went to the guardrail. Looking upstream, she watched two fishermen whose boat was tethered to a tree some distance away. They were in the cool shade, and as she watched, one lazily cast his line.
When she and Ben had been dating, they’d come to this lake several times. Ben knew about a secret spot in a quiet cove on the other side of the lake, where they’d spent hours talking and getting to know one another. Ainsley had come to feel that she could tell him anything, and he wouldn’t judge her. He’d made her want to be more, to be a better person. And he’d instilled the seeds of the belief inside her that she could be better. That belief was a talisman she’d held onto during the long months when she’d struggled so fiercely to overcome her addictions. A lot of days, it was all that had kept her going, along with the knowledge that Doug needed her.
When her mother had confronted her and explained how she’d let Ainsley get deeply involved with Ben on purpose, Ainsley had thought she would die from the pain.
“You stupid girl. Do you really think you could fool me all these weeks, that I wasn’t aware of every move you made? You played into my hands so easily, it’s laughable.”
Even knowing her mother, Ainsley struggled to understand.
“Why, Mother? Why are you doing this?” They were in the living room, Ainsley standing by the wall of windows. Geneva rolled over to her.
“Because I want an alliance with the Scotts. It will be beneficial to both families, financially speaking. You’ve met Doug. You get on well enough.”
“He can’t seriously be on board with this.”
“He’s on board. And you will be, too.”
“No. You can’t force me to marry a man I don’t love. I love Ben. Once he knows about this harebrained scheme, he’ll stop it.”
“Not if you want his family to go unscathed. Child, when are you going to learn how the world works?” Geneva held out a folder. Ainsley took a step back, but her mother lifted her arm. “Take it. Look at what your lover’s family is going to be facing if you don’t do this.”
