“I know.” Her phone beeps with a message. “It’s Paul. He wants to know where I am. He said he’s heading back to the resort.” She stuffs her napkin into her coffee cup. “I’m not ready to see him yet.”
“So, tell him that. Isa, you’re allowed to handle this on your terms. Take the time you need.”
Isa types her response to Paul then meets my gaze. “I told him I need time to think.” Her phone beeps again.
“What did he say?”
Isa looks at her phone. “He said he’s sorry and we need to talk. What is there left to say?”
I don’t know if there is anything, but I don’t want to say it. “What do you want to do?”
Isa’s lips tighten as she types. “I told him I can’t be with a man who is afraid of his mother.”
My eyes widen and my mouth rounds.
Her phone beeps again.
I lean closer. Her jaw drops open. “What? What did he say?” I demand.
“He said he’s moving into Barrett’s place and walking away from his mother’s money.”
“No.”
“And that he is now officially broke and unemployed.”
“Holy shit. Do you believe him?”
“I do.” Isa put the phone down on the table. “Paul has always been honest with me. Even about things he’s not proud of.”
Has he been or has she just never caught him in a lie? I make a pained face at her. The more I learn about Paul the less I like him, but I don’t think she’s ready to hear that yet.
Isa taps her fingers beside her phone. “He said he wants to write a book.”
“Has he ever written anything?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”
“That’s a lofty ambition and one that won’t necessarily pay the bills.”
“You sound like his mother.”
Ouch. “Isa, I don’t know Paul—my only concern is you.”
She nods slowly. “I know. Sorry. It’s just that I want this to mean something. I want it to be a sign that he is choosing us.”
“I want it to mean that too.” I really do even though I have no idea if it actually does. The older I get the less I judge anyone. I don’t think any of us have the answers. “Love isn’t easy. If it were, everyone would stay in love. Nobody would divorce and it would be happily ever after for all. I’m not advising you to take him back, and I’m not telling you to walk away. I’m here for you. I respect whatever you decide. Just make sure this guy treats you the way you deserve to be treated. I don’t care if he has a private plane or a broken-down car, as long as he treats you right.”
Isa looks up and there’s a strength in her gaze that wasn’t there a moment earlier. “Thanks, Audrey. You don’t know how much it means to have you here.” She looks at her phone. “He’s right about one thing: we do need to talk.”
I stand. “That sounds about right. Why don’t we get you back to the resort? Your parents are probably climbing the walls. You could take him aside there.”
“You’re right.” She clears off her side of the table and we toss our trash in a bin. “Don’t go anywhere, though. I need you.”
Linking my arm with hers, I say, “I’m not going anywhere.” My leg is stiff after sitting for as long as we did, and I limp before my stride becomes smoother.
“How are you feeling? Did you have a chance to rest today?” She looks at my leg.
“Rest? No.” Memories of Barrett and his touch put a huge grin on my face. “But I did find a way to relax.”
She stops dead and studies my face. “What’s that expression? You almost look like—”
I look away then back with a guilty smile.
“You hooked up with someone.”
My face warms. I could never lie to Isa. “It’s not important. We can talk about it later.”
“Who?” Nope, she’s not letting this one go.
“I never kiss and tell.”
She shakes me playfully. “Really? Who called me right after they lost their virginity? You did. Now spill.”
It still feels a little unreal. “Barrett.”
“Barrett Natick?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes narrow. I recognize that look. It sounds as unlikely to her as it feels to me. “Paul adores him, but he looks so . . . so . . .”
“Sexy? Yummy?”
“Unapproachable. Harsh.”
“He’s not.” I think of the first time we met and how he took care of me. “He’s actually sweet beneath that growl.”
Her eyebrows rise and fall. “I’ll take your word for it. Wow. Barrett. I would not have put the two of you together.”
A hint of insecurity sweeps through me. “Why?” My heart sinks a little. She’s too good a friend to be cruel when she says it, but I shouldn’t have asked for the truth. I want to keep believing I’m in his league.
“You’re so down to earth and positive.” She starts walking again, dragging me along with her. “He’s attractive, but . . . I don’t see the lure for you.”
We step out of the cafeteria. Barrett is leaning against the wall. Waiting for me? I let myself dream.
When he spots me his entire expression changes. A smile lights up his face and the heat in his gaze leaves me breathless.
Isa whispers, “Wow. Okay. I get it.”
His eyes remain on me until he is right in front of us, then he directs his attention to Isa. “Isa, Paul is outside in a car if you’d like to ride back to the airport with him. If you’d rather go back alone, I’ve arranged for a private plane for you and Audrey—as well as any family that came across with you.”
“Thank you. My parents already went back to the resort.” Isa looks surprised by his consideration, but this is the Barrett I know. “How is he?”
“He’s a little out of it, but sorry he hurt you,” Barrett answers in his deep, gruff voice.
Isa chews her bottom lip. “Where is he parked?”
“Right outside the front entrance.”
“I’ll go back with him.” Isa turns to me. “Are you okay going to the airport with Barrett?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll see you back at the house.”
“I hate to leave you like this.” She looks from me to Barrett then waves a hand through the air as if just remembering what I confessed a moment ago. “What am I thinking? You’ll be fine.”
I blush, meet Barrett’s gaze, and smile.
He smiles back.
For just a moment it’s possible to forget why we are here.
Isa clears her throat and steps away. “I’ll go find Paul then.”
“Do you want us to walk you to him?” Barrett asks without looking away from me.
“We probably should,” I whisper while getting lost in Barrett’s eyes. I’m the world’s worst friend, but it’s hard to feel bad about it while my body warms in anticipation of Barrett’s touch.
“I’ll be fine,” Isa says with a thread of amusement in her voice. “Text me when you get back, Audrey.”
“I will,” I answer absently.
Isa disappears into an elevator. I let out the breath I’ve been holding in. “They’ll be fine, right?”
“Who?” Barrett slowly turns me toward him and against the outside wall of the hospital cafeteria, kissing me with all the passion of a man returning to his woman after a long separation. My brain warns me to slow down, but my body melts into him.
When he raises his head, he says, “Sorry. I can’t help myself around you.”
I fan my face and chuckle. My heart thuds in my chest, and I tell myself I don’t care if he says that to every woman he’s with. I don’t expect forever to come from this, but—damn—I want to savor feeling beautiful and desired. I am a horrible friend to feel this good when Isa is hurting. “We should go back. Isa might need me.”
“I need you.” He traces my jawline with his lips. “I told myself I wouldn’t do this.” His voice is a hot caress in my ear. “What is it about you? I don’t want to say good-bye.”
<
br /> I shudder against him. “I don’t want to either.”
He gazes down at me. “I’m not Paul.”
Thank God.
He continues, “I’m not under any illusion that I’m relationship material. I don’t want a girlfriend, and I sure as hell am not looking for a wife. However, when we go back we could be—”
I stiffen in his arms. “Friends?”
He gives me a deep kiss that would have left me flustered if my head wasn’t spinning. “If your definition of friendship involves fucking.”
I place my hands on his chest and push him back a step. I need to put distance between us so I can think straight. “I don’t have sex with my friends.”
He leans in, placing a hand on the wall beside my head. “Today was incredible. We’re good together. We could have fun for a while. No drama. No ties. When it stops being good we just end it.”
I hate that part of me wants to accept those terms. I think about what I told Isa about Paul and realize I don’t hate Barrett for sharing his feelings. Honesty is a gift. I slide out from between him and the wall. “Despite how I might have given you reason to believe otherwise, I’m not a casual sex kind of woman. I’m not looking for fun. I want the real deal. Someday I’ll meet someone who revs my engine the way you do, but wants something serious—and I’m willing to wait for that.”
His expression tightens. “So, that’s it? We both return to Massachusetts and forget this happened?”
“I won’t forget today.” I take a deep breath and decide to give him a gift as well. “I came on this trip feeling like a shadow of myself. You put a smile on my face and confidence back in my step. I’m grateful.”
“I don’t do relationships.”
“I heard you.”
He swears under his breath. “Come on, I should get you to the airport.”
We walk through the hospital side by side without speaking. A car meets us as we exit the building. I slide in. He sits beside me but leaves a space between us. He looks so miserable I feel a little sorry for him.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“What the hell are you sorry for?” he growls.
I ignore his tone. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m not upset. I’m relieved.”
I press my lips together for a moment before answering. “You don’t sound—”
“I don’t care how I sound. I don’t care about you. You’re right, it makes no sense for us to see each other when we go back. You and I have nothing in common. My life is fucking fantastic just the way it is. Sorry to be a dick, but that’s the truth.”
I would be offended, but I remember my brother sounded similar when we were young and he didn’t want me to know he was afraid. Barrett has been so kind to me I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Well then, I made the right choice.”
“You did.”
I wonder what happened to Barrett to make him this defensive. The more he says the more I want to hug him and tell him everything will be okay. I reach across and take his hand in mine and give it a reassuring squeeze.
His eyes rivet to mine. Confusion replaces his anger.
Passion, for me at least, has taken a back seat to compassion. Whoever hurt him did a great job of messing him up. I give his hand one final squeeze then let it drop.
The car pulls onto the tarmac of a small airport. Isa waves to me from the steps of a private plane. She’s alone and she looks upset.
I don’t move right away when the car stops. This is very likely the last time I’ll see Barrett. Is there anything left to say? Maybe not. The driver opens the door on my side.
“Audrey—” Barrett says.
I turn back to him.
He cups my face between his hands and gives me a kiss that starts off angry then turns tender. I’m an emotional mess by the time it ends. “I—” he stammers.
He’s sorry. It’s there in his eyes even if it’s not in his words.
“I know.” I step out of the car then turn and lean down. “Isa doesn’t look happy, which means we won’t be on the island long. This is goodbye, I guess. I don’t regret a moment of it, though, and I hope you don’t either.”
I turn away before he has a chance to say anything.
Isa greets me with a hug and a sob. “It’s over.”
We walk onto the plane together. I pause before stepping in. Barrett’s car is headed off to another part of the tarmac, most likely to meet up with Paul.
Over.
I guess it is.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Barrett
Two weeks later, with a bouquet of flowers in hand, I step out of my car and into the warm New England sunshine. I walk across a gravel road and onto lush green grass. I wouldn’t be here if I could get Audrey out of my head.
Working more didn’t help.
Settling Paul into my apartment and moving my shit into a hotel across town was sadly less of a distraction than I’d anticipated. There was a time when getting into Bachelor Tower felt like an achievement—an endorsement from my peers that I had made it to the top.
Now that I’m actually at the top I don’t require anyone’s validation. My friends know how hard I’ve worked to get where I am. Banks love me. My accountant coos over my financial worth. No one else matters.
Or no one else did until I walked away from a woman who haunts me. At night I wonder if she’s with someone else. I relive every intimate moment of our time together.
During the day—yeah, I lust for her then too, but I also like to torture myself with how she touched my hand just before she got out of the car. She could have called me a douche. I gave her just cause to cut me down, but she didn’t. She saw past my crap and connected with a part of me I’ve locked away. I don’t get sad or afraid because I consider both emotions a waste of time.
Anger clears the way.
What the fuck does fear do?
I can’t deny, though, that I wanted to say more to her that day and held back. Regardless of how crazy it sounded, I wanted her to stay. I wanted it so much I made sure she left. I could have called her. I almost did so many times, but to say what? What the hell do I have to offer her?
It’s better to acknowledge my flaws than to lead her on only to pull a Paul. He and Isa are still dancing around the fact that he doesn’t actually want to be married. He needs to stop telling her he loves her. Isa needs to grow some balls and call him on his cowardice. Another, but less likely, option would be to continue to drive each other crazy but shut the fuck up about it.
Yeah, that’ll never happen.
It takes me a moment to orient myself. I haven’t been here since the day they laid my mother in the ground. I needed to separate from her and my childhood so I recreated myself and built my empire. Is there anything left for me here?
I stop in front of my mother’s stone. Jill Natick.
What am I supposed to do now? I don’t fucking know. I lay the bouquet down in front of her stone.
Are you here, Mom?
No answer. Really, did I expect there would be one?
I almost walk away, but I didn’t come for her as much as for myself. Audrey’s words have been haunting me. I need to put certain parts of my past to rest with my mother. I need to let the weight of it go.
No child should go to sleep hungry in the back of a car without heat and with no idea what the next day will hold. You should have put down the bottle and made a better life for us, Mom. Why didn’t you?
I don’t want to be angry anymore. I don’t want to see others in terms of you.
I place a fisted hand on top of my mother’s stone. Since Paul cut ties with his mother, he looks happier than I’ve ever seen him. It’s time for me to do the same. I need to finally close the door on what I can’t do anything about.
I see my mother’s smile in my mind.
You’re right—it wasn’t all bad. You made sure I did my homework. You said one day being smart would be my way out. You were right. I kick ass now. S
eriously. You’d be proud.
I sink down onto my haunches and run a hand over her engraved name. God, I miss you. I will never understand you—but I need to let you go because this anger is slowly tearing me apart.
A memory comes back to me. I’m seven. She’s holding my hand on the first day at a new school, telling me to lie about where we live. Her other hand is clutching papers she doctored on a library computer before forging signatures on them. She looks scared, tired, and sorry to be putting me into another school. We couldn’t stay anywhere long, not once the questions began. If anyone found out the truth she said I would lose her.
I lost her anyway.
As anger resurfaces within me, I direct it at her. Why? Why?
What drove you to drink? Why was it only us? Didn’t you have family? Friends? A life before me? What have I forgotten?
My chest tightens and I sink to my knees. I remember being three—maybe four. My father is angry. The details of his face are gone, but I remember anticipating pain. He’s so big. So angry. He raises a hand to strike me, but my mother shields me with her own body—taking the beating for me. I’m safe in the shelter of her.
Then I’m in her arms later. She’s the one with the bruises, but she’s comforting me. She’s promising to keep me safe. No one will ever hurt me again, she says.
My eyes blur with tears. How had I blocked these memories out? Until just then, my childhood had only stretched back to kindergarten. I never looked back beyond that time. I understand why now.
Fuck.
I rise to my feet. Part of me wants to hunt down my father and show him as little mercy as he showed us. Killing him would be too kind. I’d want him to suffer.
As quickly as the fury comes, it’s followed by Audrey’s sweet voice telling me I would only be giving him more power than he deserves.
I’ve been so angry for so long. I won’t give him more. It’s not my mother I need to let go of.
I touch the top of my mother’s stone gently. I’m sorry it took me so long to remember. I’m sorry you carried that weight alone. I understand now.
I stand motionless, unsure of where to go from here.
My phone rings in my pocket. I ignore it at first, then pull it out and answer gruffly. “Speak.”
Almost a Wedding Page 8
