by Gwen Masters
“You’re a married man!”
Richard held up his hands. Both of them were bare of rings. “I haven’t been married for a long time, Ma. The divorce papers just make it legal.”
“It’s not right,” she said again, and Richard realised she didn’t know any argument other than that one. She had lived her life based on a certain set of rules, a certain expectation of doing things, and she thought the whole world should work that way. When it didn’t, she clucked and shook her head in consternation, but when it was her own son who broke the rules, she was hell-bent on bringing him back into line.
“Maybe it’s not right,” he agreed. “I wish the world worked that way, Ma. I wish we lived in a place where relationships lasted, and husbands and wives treated one another with respect. I wish this world knew nothing of divorce, or arguments, or illness, and everything worked out. But that’s a utopia, Ma, and humans aren’t capable of utopia in large doses.”
She glared at him. “Don’t you get all philosophical with me,” she said, pointing a finger.
“If she hadn’t left, Ma, none of this would have happened. If I had known she was sick before I married her, I would have been able to see the signs, and I might have been able to help her. But none of those things happened, and life is the way it is. I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but I’m getting a divorce, and no amount of bickering or guilt-tripping is going to change that.”
Janette had tears in her eyes. “You haven’t even been to see her.”
“That’s where I’m going right now, if you will let us leave here and do it.”
Janette shot a look of pure spite at Rebecca. The younger woman stood her ground but inside she shrank away from that look, hating the fact that Janette would never accept her, no matter how much time went by or how her relationship with Richard evolved.
Richard watched his mother leave. She practically ran to her car, got in behind the wheel, and made a show of wiping away tears before she started the car and drove away.
Even as he watched her he knew she would never come around, and that, as much as she loved him, their relationship would be strained from this point on, no matter what he did. It was something he would have to learn to live with, but he didn’t imagine it would ever stop hurting.
“I’m sorry,” Rebecca said, coming up behind him.
“You and me both,” he said, and put his arm around her.
“Let’s go get flowers for Amanda,” Rebecca said. “I’ll wait in the car while you go up to see her.”
Richard looked down at her. “You sure?”
Rebecca was absolutely sure. In fact, she was much surer of everything than she had ever been. She understood that Amanda was sick, that she needed all the help she could get—and that included Richard’s forgiveness. She also knew that no matter what was happening around them, no matter who didn’t agree with their relationship, she was in this for the long haul. She knew Richard was in it for good, too.
“Daisies are good. Do you think we can find daisies at this hour?”
Richard led her out the door, wondering if the hospital gift shop was still open.
Chapter Nineteen
Before they knew it, Christmas arrived. Richard spent it in Miami, his first time celebrating Christmas in a place where he didn’t have to wear a coat to go outside. Rebecca’s tiny apartment was filled with lights. A Christmas tree was up in the living room, which meant one less place to sit, because she had moved a chair out to the balcony to make room.
On Christmas morning they sat on that balcony in the early sunlight, wearing pyjamas and drinking iced tea instead of hot cocoa. It was the strangest Christmas he had ever had, and quite possibly the happiest.
Amanda was still in the hospital, where she would probably stay for quite some time. Richard called Grace every few days to check on how she was doing, and he made sure to send weekly flowers, but he knew it was best for Amanda if he didn’t contact her directly. She was just now stabilising, and he would do her more harm than good. Every time he hung up the phone with Grace he felt a twinge of guilt, and wondered what he could have done to see the signs. He thought he would always feel that guilt, no matter how much time passed.
Rebecca had gone back to Miami and immediately thrown herself into work. Her black eye was hard to cover with makeup and she knew her customers noticed it, but none of them asked what had happened to her. She had no idea what she would have told them if they had. How could she explain everything that had happened and break it all down into a small nutshell of a story?
She and Richard spent time on the phone while they were apart, finally talking about the future. She thought the notion of her moving to Iowa was a pretty clear-cut scenario. The paper couldn’t move with Richard, but her job could move with her. Besides that, Crispin didn’t have a single professional photographer, and she was pretty sure her prices would compare favourably with the bigger ones in Des Moines. She had started researching the possibility and also looking for rental properties, something she hadn’t yet mentioned to Richard. She wanted to have all her plans in order when she came to the table with the idea of moving closer to him.
Richard had had much of the same thoughts, and he hadn’t told her about them, either. He had approached an old colleague a few weeks ago and over drinks had discussed the future of the Crispin Tribune. Now he sat in front of Rebecca on the balcony, prepared to discuss it all with her.
“I like Miami,” he said. “Is it really this sunny all the time?”
She nodded. “Most of the time. The storms can be good ones, though.”
“At least you don’t have blizzards.”
She smiled at him over her tea. The ice cubes tinkled in the glass as she took another long drink.
“I’ve been thinking about the paper,” he said. “I met with an old colleague of mine from the Chicago Tribune a few weeks ago, and ran some ideas past him.”
“Oh?” Rebecca sat forward, surprised she hadn’t heard about any of this before.
“I asked him what a good selling price might be,” he said, and watched as her eyes widened. “He thought it would bring a pretty penny. After all the legal wrangling, it would give me more than enough money to sink into a new business.”
Rebecca blinked at him, trying to process all this. “You’re leaving the paper?”
“I’m thinking about it.”
“But…but why would you do that? The Tribune is an institution in Crispin! You’re the only one who can compete with the big boys out of Des Moines. You’ve got a special niche. You’re needed there.”
“Maybe it’s time to move on,” he said.
“Move on to what? To where?”
“Miami.”
He watched her face as the words sank in. The shock was first, followed by the denial, then the utter happiness—but soon after that came something else.
“Richard,” she said, shaking her head. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
She smiled up at him. “Because I’m coming to Iowa.”
Now it was her turn to watch the emotions flash over his face. After going through all of them, he gave a hearty laugh. “You’re not coming to Iowa. You can’t survive Iowa.”
“I can too!”
“You hate winter, you can’t drive on snow, and you wouldn’t know what to do with all that space.”
“You will miss winter, you hate driving in traffic, and you can’t stand buildings so close together.”
They smiled at each other, standing at a very exciting crossroads.
“But you know what this means?” he asked, and she nodded.
“It means we’re making plans.”
He leaned over and kissed her. She put down her glass of iced tea and grabbed at his shirt. He fell over her on to the floor of the balcony, where their legs tangled and their tongues met. He kissed her until the sun disappeared behind dark clouds and made the world grey.
She slipped her hands under his T-shirt and with one experience
d move she yanked it over his head. She touched his bare chest, her fingertips trailing over one small bruise in the exact shape of her teeth. She fit her teeth to it again, this time using only her lips to mark him, a soft caress that made his nipples hard. She touched them with her fingertips and whispered into his ear.
“Ever made love in the rain?”
He laughed against her neck. “It’s not raining.”
“It’s going to,” she promised, and pulled his head down for another kiss.
Sure enough, the dark clouds didn’t go away. Richard missed the play of the sunlight in the hollows of her neck. He kissed her there, taking his time and tasting the sweet flavour of her. His tongue found the place where her perfume had been last night and brought it back to life, the taste stinging his tongue, the scent filling his nose. She ran her fingertips lightly over his back and wrapped her legs around his, holding him to her while his touch sent shivers through her body.
“Ever made love on a balcony thirty stories up?”
Richard didn’t even bother to answer that one. He kissed his way down to her shirt and started to unbutton it, one slow button at a time, dropping a kiss on her skin with each bit of skin he revealed. When the shirt was open and she was laying there half-naked before him, he started to work on her nipples, laving one with his tongue while playing the other with his fingertips. She arched up into his touch and growled low in her throat, the smile still on her face.
The first drop of rain touched her bare skin, and, though it was warm outside, she shivered.
Richard kissed his way down her belly until he reached her pyjama bottoms. Rebecca wiggled out of them but before they were down to her feet he was spreading her legs and pressing his face between them. He breathed deeply of her scent, mostly all her but a little of him, and with a wicked grin he remembered what he had done to her last night. He licked her slowly, nibbling at her pussy lips, pulling on them, making her wet and making her moan. She tangled her hands in his hair and held him closer, moving her hips up, urging him to touch her where she needed it most.
He slid his tongue down instead, and lightly touched the rosebud of her ass.
She jerked hard. She spread her legs wider as the rain started to sprinkle over her, cool drops touching her skin. They tickled as they slid down her sides. She opened her mouth and tasted the drops as they eased over her lips and peppered her tongue.
He held her tight as he ministered to her, revelling in the little moans and the wiggling of her body against his tongue. Soon the rain was coming down harder and had soaked his pyjama bottoms, so he worked them down his body with one hand and kicked them off to a corner of the little balcony. His dick was hard and pressed against the smooth concrete, the cold making him a little softer, even as the woman writhing underneath him kept the passion at a fever pitch.
“I need it,” she panted, and he didn’t make her wait any longer. He slid his tongue up and pressed it hard against her clit, running it around and around the sensitive little button, until she was gasping for air. He slipped one finger into her ass, giving her no warning about what he was going to do, and the sudden shock sent her into an orgasm that knocked her breathless.
Her body tightened around his hand, pulsing with the pleasure. When she finally lay still, he moved above her. The rain was pelting them now, no longer gentle. Richard hovered over her as the drops stung his shoulders and ran all over his body, a shower from the heavens.
“Fuck me,” she breathed, the words he loved so much to hear, and he slid into her.
She tried to wrap her legs around his hips, but the water made him too slippery. She tried to hold on to him with her arms, but faced the same problem. Finally she lay back on the balcony, reached above her head to grab at the bars of the railing, and planted her feet against the concrete. She bumped her hips, rising up to meet him, and watched as his face went slack with pleasure.
“God, that’s good,” he murmured.
The rain kept falling and she kept moving, grinding against him as he held still. She watched the rain drip from his forehead and nose, traced the drops as they slid down his arms, and tasted the water that dripped from his chin. She loved the way his skin slipped against her, as if their whole bodies were fucking.
Richard opened his eyes and smiled at her. Her hair was dark with the rain, her face covered with tiny drops, her lips open to take them in. Her hips bumped against his over and over, her eyes pinned to his face, as he approached the pinnacle. When she ground her pussy against him one last time he did go over the edge, calling out into the rainstorm as he filled her.
She kissed him as he came back down to earth. When he moved away from her she was startled by how hard the rain was. He had shielded her from it with his body but now the protection was gone the drops were stinging against her skin.
She stood up and let it wash down her body. Richard stood watching her, unheeding of the rain that cascaded down his body, and she admired the way he looked now, so trim and fit. He had lost weight during their marathon sex sessions, and he swore his body was harder than it had been in years. She walked to him and wrapped her arms around his middle.
“Now you’ve made love in the rain,” she teased.
The torrent got worse, and the first blast of lightning lit up the sky. The vivid light blinded them both. Rebecca ran for the door, pulling him with her as she slid it open and stepped inside. The sudden absence of the rain set off chills in her body, and she hurried to the bathroom for her robe. She threw a towel at Richard and admired his body as he dried off. He luffed his hair, then sat down on the couch, naked.
“So you’re coming to Miami,” she said, picking right up where they had left off.
“Yeah.”
“But I’m coming to Iowa.”
She said it with such a matter-of-fact tone that he wondered how much planning she had already done, and when she was going to share it with him.
“Tell me about these plans,” he said. “You’ve obviously done some thinking.”
“I have.” She sat down on the coffee table in front of him. “I’ve looked into the photography business up there, and it seems a bit lacking. Crispin could use my services. And it would allow you to stay with the paper, and avoid all these weekend trips to visit some chickie down south.”
Richard grinned at her. “You’ve got it all figured out, then?”
“I even found an apartment. It’s a very reasonable price. I knew the cost of living there was much less, but I had no idea how expensive Miami really was until I started doing some research.”
“Who says you need an apartment?” he asked.
She stared at him. Was he offering what she thought he was?
“I can’t stay in your house,” she said. “You’re not quite divorced yet, remember? It could cause problems for you.”
“What if I said I was going to sell the house?”
Rebecca shook her head. They had both made huge plans in the hopes of surprising one another, and now all those plans seemed helter-skelter.
“You’re selling?”
“I think we should start in a place of our own. Not a place that has so many memories.”
“But they’re good memories.”
“Yeah, they are…but there are bad ones, too. You can point out the spot on the floor where Amanda pinned you down and hit you. I can show you where she left the note. I can point out the place where our wedding picture used to be. Is that really the kind of memories you want to creep into our lives? Because they will, you know. It might not seem that way now, but the first time we have a good argument something will come back. I can almost guarantee it.”
Rebecca nodded. “Okay. So where were you planning on going?”
“Miami.”
She snorted with laughter and slapped him on the knee.
“If you are really dead-set on coming to Crispin, I’m not going to stop you,” he said. “But know the town won’t be all that accepting at first. Most of the people there are going to love
you, but the ones who don’t will make a lot of noise.”
“I already expect that, and I’m ready for it.”
“Then can you come to Iowa? I can set up a meeting with the realtor, and we can look around. See what we like.”
She shook her head in amazement. “Just like that…you can move out of the house you’ve lived in for so long? Just like that?”
“I was going to come to Miami,” he pointed out.
She reached out and took his hand. “I’ll get plane tickets as soon as the offices open.”
He kissed her fingers. “Merry Christmas, my love,” he whispered.
The first five houses they looked at were not suitable for them. Either they were too modern, or too traditional, or filled with too little space. Though they hadn’t yet discussed children, Richard was more than open to having them, and Rebecca thought more and more about a little one running around, one with his eyes. When the realtor had asked how many bedrooms they required, Richard immediately replied, “Three,” which brought a dazzling smile from Rebecca.
The sixth house was the one that made them both gasp as they walked through the front door. A massive fireplace sat in the corner of the living room. The ceilings were high, adorned with rough-hewn wood beams. The kitchen was open, separated from the rest of the house by a long marble bar. The counters were exquisitely carved, and the wallpaper was dramatic, a perfect complement to the dark cherry wood on the floors. It was a bit out of their price range and far too luxurious.
The realtor watched their reactions, raised an eyebrow and said, “I’ll give you a moment.” She walked out of the room and they looked at each other, their eyes wide.
“I want this house.”
“I want it too, but can we afford it?”
“If I sell the farmland too, we can.”
“But will that bring enough to make our payments low?”
He smiled at her. “It will pay for the house outright.”
That stunned her. “How much is land out here worth, anyway?”
