Burning Kiss

by Jen Talty

  So did his, but she wasn’t about to continue this ridiculous conversation any further. They walked into the airport in a chilly silence that made her skin prickle. She glanced his way a few times, but he looked straight ahead. He did that when he was either pondering something, or annoyed.

  She figured right now he was both.

  “We go through the main security, then we get a bus over to the small airplane hangar. The crew is on the jet and ready to go.”

  “I haven’t flown on a plush, private jet since my dad took the golf team to the Bahamas.”

  “Do you still get to play?” she asked, stepping into the airport security line through pre-check, grateful the conversation shifted quickly and easily.

  “I play when I can. How about you?” He dumped his bag on the conveyor belt and stepped through the metal detector. He didn’t look back as she followed suit.

  She gathered her things and headed toward the bus terminal. “Not since the last time with you.”

  “Well, maybe we should play a round at the club while I’m home. I’ve always enjoyed the way you cock your hip right before you swing.”

  She stepped through the door he held opened and climbed up on the bus. Her stomach pitched and rolled. And here he thought her actions were conflicting. He sent her one mixed message after the other and it felt more like watching a tennis match than having a conversation.

  “That right there is why I don’t play.”

  “It’s even better when you bend over to pick up your ball.”

  “All right. That’s enough.” She let out a long sigh. “You go from being pissy about what I did or didn’t do years ago to flirting with me. We had our fun last night to bring us closure. Either close it, or…or…just fucking close it, okay?”

  “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel.” He held the bar in the center of the bus over sitting next to her. “Oh, wait. You don’t know how you really feel.”

  “Well, neither do you.”

  The rest of the ride went in silence, as did boarding his father’s jet. She’d chosen to fly with a skeleton crew: pilot and co-pilot. This seemed to make Hunter insanely happy as he poured himself a scotch on the rocks before take-off. In all the years she’d known him, she’d never seen him drink before at least noon, and that was only when they had a football party or major family gathering.

  She opted for coffee.

  He leaned back in the seat across from her, swirling his drink, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. The plane leveled out and the captain came over the loudspeaker, letting them know the estimated time of arrival and the current weather in Maryland.

  “I’m sorry,” Hunter said, still staring at his drink. “I’m nervous about being around family and I’m taking it out on you.”

  “Thank you, but it’s more than that. You’ve been upset with me ever since I stepped from your bedroom this morning.” She fluffed her hair as if that would give her a shot of confidence. “I don’t regret what happened, but I’d understand if you did.”

  “That’s not it all.” He set the glass down and looked directly at her. “I’m glad we had last night. We couldn’t get past our stubbornness back then, but we each did things to remind ourselves of what we didn’t fight for and I find myself wanting more of it, only your life is up here and mines with the Air Force and neither one of us is going to change that.”

  “What do you mean?” She clutched the leaf pendant dangling from her neck, fingering the silver piece of jewelry. She wasn’t so sure she wanted the answer, but she needed it.

  “We held onto each other in different ways, but we went about the lives we both wanted to live. We didn’t really think twice about it. It’s like we felt guilty over choosing our goals, so we tortured ourselves with constant reminders. We need to choose one and I think we both know what that will be, no matter how badly we want a repeat.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, digesting his words. She wanted to argue that they were immature and young. That they didn’t have the skill set to deal with what happened in their lives, but deep down, she knew he had a valid point. Only, he failed to comprehend that she would have never become a Peace Corps Volunteer had he not left her. Sure, she would have found some way to do service work, though it would have been local. Or wherever he was stationed. And there could have been opportunities in the military for her passion to help others.

  But what would be the point in telling him that now when it was painfully obvious he didn’t want her in his life.

  “I get it and agree.”

  “I’m sorry if this is hurting you,” he said.

  Now she just wanted to throttle him. “I’m not hurt. I think it’s good we talked before landing in Baltimore.”

  “Are we getting a car service, or is someone picking us up?”

  “You’re father and his wife.”

  “I’ve never met her,” he said, dropping his head back.

  “She’s a nice lady and makes your father happy.”

  “How does she feel about my dad taking care of his ex-wife?” Every word was laced with a bit of kick as if they’d been drenched in Tabasco sauce.

  “She’s actually taking care of the day to day things, spending her days with your mom, cooking and cleaning.”

  “That’s just weird.”

  “So is the fact you had sex last night with your step-sister.”

  Chapter 5

  Hunter followed Claire across the tarmac toward a stretch limo, doing his best to forget her comment about step-siblings. He knew she was just trying to mess with him because he could tell she wasn’t buying his line of crap.

  And it was crap.

  At this point, he’d say anything to build up the wall he should have never let her tear down. His heart had taken a mini beating the moment he opened his eyes this morning to see her sprawled out on top of him in his bed. Her long hair flowing across his chest. Her arms and legs tangled up with his. Visions of leisurely walks along the beach, children frolicking in the ocean waves, maybe even a dog chasing a Frisbee, teased his mind.

  The back door of the limo opened and his father stepped out into the humid air. His hair had thinned and greyed, but his muscular frame filled out his dress slacks and shirt exactly as Hunter had remembered. His father held out his hand as a woman stepped from the vehicle. She wore a stunning paint suit. Her short brown hair perfectly styled. From a distance, he couldn’t even fathom a guess at her age, but from the few talks he’d had with his father and siblings, she was in her early sixties.

  “Judy is her name, right?” he whispered. His palms grew clammy and his pulse jackhammered in his chest.

  “That’s correct,” Claire said, slowing her pace, resting her hand in the crook of his elbow. Instinctively, he raised his forearm. “She was married to a banker for twenty years.”

  “Do I have more step-siblings I need to be aware of?”

  Claire let out a soft laugh. “No. She never had children.”

  “Why’d she get divorced?”

  “She didn’t. She was widowed.”

  He swallowed. That was good information to know, otherwise he might go and make an ass of himself by saying something stupid.

  The last ten paces, he took deep calming breaths.

  “Dad,” he said, extending his hand.

  “Hunter.” His father pushed his hand aside and pulled him in for a tight and slightly too long of a hug. “You look good, boy.”

  “So do you, Dad.”

  “Claire. Dear Claire. Thanks for talking him into coming home.”

  “My pleasure,” Claire said, accepting

  “Judy. I’d like you to meet my son, Hunter.” His father beamed with pride just like he had the day he’d graduated from high school. His father had always been his biggest supporter, even when Hunter said no to a prep school offer to play golf and even a chance to go professional. While Hunter loved the sport, he didn’t want to make it his living, no matter how good at it he was and he was still a scrat
ch golfer. Not bad for a guy who only played on weekends, and not every weekend because that would cut into his fishing.

  “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  She took the hand he extended, but leaned in for an awkward hug. “Please don’t call me ma’am, or Mrs. Jackson, because that would be more awkward than this. Judy is just fine.”

  A nervous laugh trickled out of his mouth. “I’m sorry I was unable to make the wedding. I really was overseas on deployment.” There was no reason he needed to qualify that and by the wrinkled brow on his father’s head, Hunter had not only insulted him be implying they didn’t believe his response, but it also reminded everyone that Hunter hadn’t been home in ten years.

  “Thank you for your service,” Judy said with a poised smile.

  He wanted to hate the woman as much as he resented his parents for destroying what he believed had been the perfect marriage. The perfect family.

  “You’re welcome.” His heart ached for what once was and what a fool he’d been. He hadn’t chased after Claire because he wanted to follow his dream. No. He didn’t stay to make it work because he was afraid and he made it impossible for her to come after him. He swallowed. Hard.

  But his parents had betrayed him, a thought that still burned a hole in his gut. Even now, he could perfectly recall the day he’d found his mother with Mr. Thompson. A son, no matter the age, doesn’t unsee something like that. He wondered if he’d found out some other way, and didn’t have to be the one to tell his father, if he would have reacted differently.

  He slipped into the limo, Claire sitting next to him, his father and Judy sitting across. His lungs burned with every breath he took. His father, and his father’s life, were strangers to him. He had no idea what to say, much less how to act.

  “Your father tells me you’re a Senior Firefighter for the Air Force.” She patted his father’s leg. “Gerry, didn’t you say it was called Fire Protection Specialist?”

  His father nodded, staring at Hunter with questioning eyes, though what they questioned, Hunter didn’t know.

  “He also tells me you’re in some training or school to be an arson investigator. That must be fascinating.”

  Hunter arched a brow. “How’d you know about that, Dad?”

  “You’ve forgotten I have some high-ranking friends in the military.”

  “Keeping tabs on me?”

  Claire pinched him and he flinched, though not necessarily at the physical pain.

  He deserved more of a pinch since the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could think about how they would sound.

  “Sorry, Dad. That’s not what I meant.” He rubbed the side of his leg, and laced his fingers through Claire’s.

  She tried to pull back, but he didn’t let her. He needed her warmth and her strength if he were going to get through this without being too much of an ass.

  “You sort of meant it like that. I was always up your ass about everything when you were a teenager and worse when you went to college.” His father smiled, shaking his head. “Remember when I tried to bribe your academic advisor to give me your grades when you refused to sign off on them?”

  “You were a bit of a control freak.” The corner of Hunter’s mouth twitched into a smile. “I purposely maintained a status quo average just to annoy you.”

  “I know. Smart ass kid,” his father said.

  “I know an adult who is just like that,” Judy said with a bright smile.

  It was going to be impossible to hate the woman. She seemed perfect for his dad.

  A long, thick silence filled the limo. Hunter looked out the window as they pulled into a familiar neighborhood. Not his old one, or Claire’s, since his mom and her dad had bought a new place together, but it was only a couple of neighborhoods away and still within the country club. That had to be awkward at the Holiday Ball.

  “Thanks for coming,” his father said with a throaty tone, his eyes glossed over, threatening to tear. “I won’t pretend to understand how you felt ten years ago. I had my own pain to grapple with and I don’t think I was a very good father to you or your siblings back then during the divorce. But I know what this will mean to your mother.”

  “She doesn’t know I’m coming?”

  Claire squeezed his hand. “She’s been asking for you and we all said we’d try to find you, but we didn’t want to get her hopes up.”

  “I hope I don’t give her a heart attack,” Hunter mumbled.

  “That’s not funny,” his father said, though there was a lightness to the words.

  “It’s inappropriately funny.” Hunter coughed, nearly choking on the words his mother used to toss out whenever the locker room talk got out of hand, or a sexist joke would be told in front of her.

  The limo pulled into a house on the fifth tee box. “They bought old man Walker’s place?”

  “You didn’t know that?” Claire questioned.

  “There are a lot of things I don’t know,” he admitted, his insides fluttering like a dog’s tail. “I know this is no excuse, but the first four years I was gone, I was always in training or deployed. Even after that, I volunteered for deployment and special operations.”

  “So, we’ve been told.” His father’s voice boomed with pride.

  Hunter snapped his head, catching his father’s gaze. Hunter expected a lecture on how easy it was in today’s age to maintain contact, not genuine pride from a man who seemed to relish in his son’s accomplishments, even if from a distance.

  “Why don’t I go see how Louisa is doing?” Judy pushed open the limo door. “Should I prepare her for Hunter’s visit?”

  “No,” his father said, maintaining eye contact with Hunter. “I’d like it if you told her you came to see her on your own. You can tell her I sent Claire to talk you into it if you want. But, just remember when someone knows the end is near, they look back over their lives and all the regrets and pain that comes with it and it haunts their existence.” He leaned over, putting a strong hand on Hunter’s knee. “What she did was wrong and it hurt us all. This is no excuse, but our marriage had been over for years. We stayed together for you kids. Maybe that was a big mistake.”

  Hunter could stand to listen to reason for a second longer. “I’m here. Let’s just leave it at that.” He stepped from the limo, the warm sun hitting his face. Golf carts rolled across the cart path. The sound of an iron hitting a ball played like music in his ears. He ducked his head back into the limo. “What are the chances I could get a round of golf in after I visit with mom?”

  “I’ll set it up.”

  “Thanks.” He turned and faced old man Walker’s house, now his mother’s house. “Well, here goes nothing.”

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stood at the front door. Did he knock? Ring the doorbell? Walk in? Thankfully, he didn’t have to make that decision as Judy appeared and opened the front door.

  “She’s awake and knows something is up, but I doubt she knows you’re here.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” He actually had a million of them, but many would just serve to piss off everyone.

  “What is it?” Judy stepped back, waving a hand into a sitting room to the right of the foyer. He recognized the white sofa from Claire’s parent’s house, but only because they’d had sex on it once.

  Or twice.

  Pictures lined the wall to ceiling bookcases of both families. It was strange to see his family portrait, with both his parents in it, displayed next to one of Claire’s with all of her siblings and parents.

  “If you’ve more than one, why don’t we sit.”

  He shook his head, reaching for the frame that had a dozen small pictures of him and Claire growing up as kids.

  “Your mother has an entire collection of picture frames like that one all throughout the house. She’s still holding out for a reunion with the two of you.”

  Maybe he should tell his mother that his love for Claire would be forever tainted because of her actions and they’d get back together wh
en hell froze over.

  God, he was a mess. One minute he wanted nothing more than to be with Claire. The next he just wanted to continue to hurt everyone.

  Mostly himself.

  Living a tormented life had become the only way he knew how to survive.

  Being in this house, surrounded by images of family and love made him want to go running and screaming naked through the neighborhood like a crazy person. But the worst part was that he was a grown man, not a child, and he had no right to begrudge his parents happiness. Or to judge their decisions.

  “I hope you don’t mind if I’m blunt.”

  “I’m your mother’s primary caregiver, I’m used to blunt.”

  He let out a short laugh. “How do you do it? I mean, taking care of your husband’s ex-wife. That’s got to be hard.”

  “It might have been if I knew them during the divorce, but I didn’t. I only saw two people who stopped loving each other but never stopped loving their kids.” Judy ran her fingers across an old Victorian desk. “Your parents have become friends. Close friends. I’d be a bitch if I stood between two people who have shared so much joy and heartache.” She closed the gap, reaching out and curling her fingers around his biceps. “They became close over their shared grief of hurting and losing you. They both love you very much, but they are about as stubborn as a baby that is unwilling to walk.”

  “That they are.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Just point me in the direction of my mother,” he said. If he didn’t do this now, he’d never do.

  “Upstairs and down the hallway. You’ll walk right into the master bedroom. I should warn you, she’s weak and doesn’t look well. She’s lost a ton of weight and is quite pale.”

  “That has to drive her insane. She always loved a good tan.”

  “She demands tanning lotion every day.”

  “That sounds like my mother.” He left Judy standing in the sitting room as he climbed the staircase. The hallway walls were filled with more photos and familiar furniture from both his childhood home and Claire’s.