I didn’t know how to begin. “Jack sold the photo I took of you.” I looked back up to see him nodding, prodding me onward. “I told you the truth before. I told him I didn’t want to sell it, and I didn’t give it to him. I honestly had nothing to do with selling it. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’d considered it. Things have been…” I paused and Connor filled the silence.
“I know they’ve been hard.”
“Right. Well, yes, but I knew I couldn’t do that to you. I didn’t consider it for long. And Jack and I were not working together. When he showed up at the diner with that money…it was nothing I was expecting, Connor. And I didn’t take it.”
“Okay,” he said, his voice gentle.
“I’m so sorry.”
“If you didn’t sell it, why are you sorry?”
I searched myself for the words. “I’m sorry for all the trouble it’s caused you—for the contribution to the mess that was already going on. I wish I had been here for you, helping to defend you.”
“That’s not your responsibility.” He looked at me, a sad smile on his face. “I believe you about the photo,” he added. “I’ve had time to think about what I saw and heard last night. I know you well enough to know you weren’t lying. I was just angry and needed somewhere to aim that. I’m sorry.”
“I understand.”
We sat in silence for a moment, but I had the distinct impression that he was going to add something more, so I waited quietly.
He cleared his throat and then caught my eye, looking uncertain suddenly. “I think I owe you another apology, actually.”
“You do?”
He nodded. “For being hot and cold about the property. And for not telling you who I was.”
The creek. So I was right.
“I should have told you everything as soon as I realized who you were. I wanted to buy that place because…it’s always meant something to me. That spot…” he gazed past me for a second into the fire. Though he stared at the shifting flames, I wondered if he was seeing the river in his mind’s eye. “That day when we were kids, when I pulled you out of the river…it was important to me.”
“It was a million years ago,” I whispered.
“But I see it every time I close my eyes. I think it’s the only thing in my life I’ve ever done right. I see you in the water, your eyes huge. You were so little, and you had this enormous wild mop of curly hair. When we played, before we went down to the river, there was something about the wild child with the big crazy hair that drew me in. You were loud, and fierce, and so fearless. And I saw my sister and me when I watched the way your brother was with you.
“But then you fell into the river and he couldn’t help you. We were all perched on the rocks over you while you tried to get out, and you kept sinking under. And Cam was yelling like a crazy person, and trying to fish you out with a stick, but he didn’t go in.
“And your eyes were everywhere, and then they landed on me, and I jumped. I didn’t even think about it. I remember knowing that I had to save you. And I did.” His eyes clicked to my face. “I saved you. You’re the only person I’ve ever been able to save.”
“What do you mean? Your sister?”
He leaned back a little bit and broke our gaze. “Yeah, for one. But way before that. I’ve lost a lot of people, I guess. My grandpa used to live with us when we lived in Chicago. But he died when I was pretty little. I used to crawl in his bed every morning and he’d tell me stories. One day I went into his room to wake him up, and he was dead.”
“Oh God. I’m so sorry.” I tried to picture a tiny redheaded wide-eyed Connor discovering his grandpa like that, and felt sadness for the little boy he’d been.
“And then the summer we came up here for the first time, my parents had been in a car accident, so my sister and I went to live with my aunt in northern California. She and her husband were the ones who brought us up here during the summer.
“But they had never wanted kids. And they didn’t want us. And so when I was eighteen, it was just me and my sister.”
He looked smaller, sitting there after telling me all of that, and I reached forward without thinking, putting my hand on his knee. As I touched him, his head turned and he looked surprised for a minute, but his hand landed on top of mine and stayed there.
“I think at first, I didn’t even realize I was doing it,” he said.
“Doing what?”
“Trying to save you over and over again so I could feel that sensation. Of doing something right. Of succeeding.” His voice was almost a whisper.
“You’re a huge success,” I argued. “Surely that means something?”
“With words, I do okay. With people? Not as much. I’ve never been good at getting close to anyone. I’ve had relationships…” he paused, looking uncomfortable. “But I’ve never done it right. They get tired of trying to understand. And they leave.” He took a sip from the glass on the counter. “My agent finally asked me why all the ones who survive in my books have the same curly hair, the same blue eyes.”
“Like me,” I breathed. “You keep saving me.”
“My sister actually figured it out first. She said that you were the only person I’d ever kept from leaving me. And somehow it stuck with me, even when I didn’t think it was that important to me.” A sad smile flitted across his face.
“Once I realized it, after we’d come up here to my house, I came back to the spot and saw this house you were building. And I wanted some part of that memory to be mine. So I offered to buy it. But then I realized who you were. And I couldn’t take it from you.”
“And when you figured out who I was, why didn’t you tell me?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I just wanted to be near you, and didn’t know if it would freak you out to hear it. And then the deeper we got and the longer I waited, the less it seemed like I could tell you.”
I nodded. I understood that. I understood all of it. I looked up into Connor’s face. He looked so sad, and I couldn’t stop my hand from reaching up to trace the lines around his eyes, to try to smooth them away.
He sat still and let me touch his face. My fingers roved over his cheeks, feeling the smooth skin there, and traced down to his jawline, where the soft stubble grew in shades of dark auburn and gold. Finally, my index finger traced his bottom lip, and his mouth opened slightly as a ragged breath escaped him.
The sound emboldened me, and I let my finger run across his lip again.
But then he circled my wrist with his fingers, stopping me. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet your brother. Or sign that book.”
I shook my head. “Hopefully you can soon. His wife is a huge fan. She’s actually the reason I found my picture online.”
“What do you mean? You were trolling me online?”
I covered my face with my hands. “No…I mean, well, yes. But only because Cam’s wife knew exactly who you were when I mentioned you. She had one of your books with her, for crying out loud. And she said that she’s read them all, and she made you sound like a total celebrity. I felt stupid for not really knowing of you, so I went to Google you. And that’s when I saw the picture.” The words had come out in a rush, and I was humiliated to admit that I’d been Googling him, so an even more humiliating blush had crawled up my cheeks as I spoke. My face was on fire as I finally got the courage to look back into Connor’s eyes.
He was staring at me with a mix of amusement and something else, but he didn’t look angry. “What the hell am I going to do with you?” he asked me.
My heart leapt. I shrugged and let myself smile a little bit. “I am really sorry about all of it.”
He shook his head and pulled me into his arms. “It almost broke me when I thought you’d sold me out,” he whispered. “I didn’t even realize how much I trusted you, how much I’ve come to depend on you in so short a time.”
“I would never do that,” I said, looking up into his face.
He lifted a hand, bringing my pal
m up to kiss. Something in the warmth of his mouth, the intense heat of his gaze, connected directly to my center, and I shivered.
He moved backward, keeping his hand around my wrist as he pulled me to standing with him. He leaned toward me then, his lips tracing a faint path over mine, and the overwhelming sensation of just being that close to him, having his scent around me, nearly caused my knees to buckle. Without another word, he pulled me toward the stairs leading to his bedroom.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
I didn’t know if he meant pulling me along with him, or if he was asking permission for whatever was about to happen, but I nodded. Pretty much anything he did at that moment would have been okay with me.
It wasn’t warm upstairs, but when Connor pulled his shirt off, I didn’t feel the cold. I stood before him, watching him undress before me. The moonlight coming in the window shimmered on his bare skin, deepening the lines around his muscles. His hair was wild and caught flecks of light from the moon, and I had a flickering image of a wolf, or a lion…something wild and carnal. He stared at me for a second, stripped to only his boxers as we stood at the foot of his bed, and then he stepped near and pulled me into his arms, kissing me gently but with a fierceness that spoke of years of loneliness, of secrets finally shared, of an end to so many painful chapters.
We fell together onto the bed, and the intensity of all that had passed wound itself into what transpired between us. I flew and dove, guided by Connor’s strong hands and the tumult of emotion I felt for him. I’d never been multi-orgasmic. Until tonight.
Jack would happily tell people that I wasn’t orgasmic at all. He actually believed that some women couldn’t achieve it. But I had always known that I was not one of those women. Though Jack and I had many things together in the early days…great sex was never one of them. For some reason, I thought it was great for him, and that maybe that was enough. But as Connor ground out my name as he released into me, and as my body responded in kind, I knew that really satisfying sex was only so if both parties were equally involved. And I’d never been that involved with Jack.
Connor relaxed, letting himself rest to one side of me, half of him still laying across my bare body. His breathing gradually slowed, and I listened to it as I stared out at the sky cluttered with stars, the moon shining off to one side and creating dark looming shadows out of the ancient trees that watched over us.
“I never expected to see you again,” Connor said, his voice a whisper. “It makes me almost believe in fate.”
I didn’t answer him, but thought about that. Was Connor supposed to save me? In ways beyond the literal act of pulling me from the river? I certainly felt saved in that moment as he lay next to me out in the deepening chill of night. But being sexually sated and being saved were really two different things, and I did understand that now, though I might have felt differently, were I ten years younger.
He kissed me gently and we lay there until I was sure he had fallen asleep. But then his voice sifted to me through the darkness. “Maddie, let me save you one more time. Let me help you with the house.”
I knew that saving me financially had much more insidious ramifications than pulling me out of a river. “I’m not sure I need saving in that way, Connor,” I said, nestling back into his arms.
* * *
My phone rang early the next morning, pulling me from Connor’s embrace to find my jeans, where I’d left the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi. Is this Maddie Turner?”
“It is.” I’d learned to be suspicious after Jack and I had separated and his lawyer had called asking me all kinds of questions.
“Do you do weddings?”
“What do you…” I was waking up slowly, and suddenly realized that this was a call about a potential photography gig. “Yes, absolutely!”
“My fiancé and I are getting married up in Kings Grove in September. The 14th. I know it’s really short notice. Are you booked?”
This woman clearly had no idea I was just getting my business off the ground. That said, I did have a pretty good wedding portfolio from my time in San Diego. “I’m not, actually.”
“Oh thank goodness! And what’s your rate for eight hours?”
At one time, it was quite high. I wondered what I could get away with. The student loans I was going to have to start paying would be about five hundred a month. “One thousand?”
The woman on the other end squeaked and I wasn’t sure if I’d talked myself out of a job. “That’s so reasonable!” she squealed.
I suddenly wished I’d been more unreasonable. “Oh, good.”
“When can we meet to sign contracts?” She wasn’t messing around.
“Any time, really. Will you come up here?”
“I’ll be up next week to talk to the caterer anyway. Can we get together then?”
I gave her directions to the diner and hoped Adele would be okay with me meeting a client during my shift. I’d tell her she didn’t have to pay me for the time we talked.
I hung up feeling more optimistic than I had in months.
“What was that?” Connor’s sleepy voice came from the pillows as strong hands pulled my shoulders backwards into bed again.
“That,” I said. “Was me getting ready to save myself.”
Connor began to ask what I meant, but he didn’t get the chance to finish. Getting a glimpse of financial independence turned out to be a huge turn on.
Chapter 19
I met with the girl, Sarah Jasper, about her wedding plans the following week. Her caterer, as it turned out, was the diner where I worked.
“We didn’t always live up here, you know,” Frank told me when I asked him about it after meeting with the bride. “We used to run a fancy little cafe and catering business down in the valley.” It seemed Frank and Adele had bigger dreams, too. “We moved up here for the cleaner air. Adele has lots of allergies and the haze in the valley wasn’t good for her. She feels better up here.”
If this was Adele feeling well, I couldn’t image what she was like when she was sick.
The wedding plans were set for less than a month out, and I got the job. On the previous weddings I’d worked, I’d had a couple of assistants—one with a second camera, and one with an assortment of lenses at the ready. I’d have to change up my strategy to do it solo, but I wasn’t too worried. This bride, unlike so many I’d met, seemed happy with everything I proposed and was actually more focused on the concept of marrying the man she loved than she was on the niggly little details. It was refreshing.
I went back to the trailer that night full of hope for the future. It was late, since I had stopped through the library to edit some of the photos I’d taken in the last few weeks. I was surprised by the shots I had of Cam and Jess. It’d been clear that they loved each other when I’d met them—she made my brother a different man, but there was something in the pictures that had brought me close to tears as I’d sorted through them. There was a palpable sense of love between them, and the knowledge that their time was short was evident in every frame. Something in the way they looked at one another, the way they leaned in close. I added some filters, and knew I needed to print them. I decided I’d do it in black and white—there was enough vibrant feeling in the simple love that surrounded them in each shot that they needed no competition from actual colors. It made my heart ache to think that he would lose her.
I drove through the village feeling better than I had in months, despite my sadness over Jess. It wasn’t that all my problems were solved—not at all. I still had bills I didn’t know how to pay and a house I couldn’t finish building. I had a brother about to lose the love of his life and the man I’d been married to was never going to give me the money he owed me. Oh, and he’d stolen a photo I’d taken and used it to malign my…my what? My boyfriend? I thought about that a little bit, and was surprised to find that the word was comfortable. Connor was my boyfriend. Besides that, my father thought he was on a perpetual cruise and I was
always in grad school in his mind. And while all of that difficult stuff was true, and it was a heavy load to bear, every one of my negatives now came with a “but”—something I could add to the statement that made it not quite so bad.
I topped the small rise where my trailer sat, and my heart beat a little faster to see the lights blazing in the trailer windows and Connor’s car parked out front. I opened the door to find music playing and Connor wearing an apron at the stove top.
“What is this?” I laughed, walking into the open circle of his arms. He looked positively gleeful as he lifted a wooden spoon in greeting.
“I’m making a cake, with chocolate ganache.” He hugged me tight and then released me, turning back to the pot on the stove.
“You’re full of surprises,” I said. “Is it my birthday?”
He turned to me, eyes serious. “Oh God, it’s not, is it?”
“No, silly. Don’t worry, I’ll advertise for weeks before my birthday. I’d never risk anyone missing the chance to celebrate it.”
His face relaxed. “Oh good. When is that, by the way?”
“April.”
“Okay.” He grinned. “No, it’s not a birthday cake. It’s an ‘I’m not under investigation anymore’ cake.”
“Officially?”
He nodded his head, the grin widening and the dimples deepening beneath the light stubble around his mouth. “The police finally listened when I told them that I’d received threatening phone calls and they stopped trying to say that I’d written the letters to myself.”
“You were getting calls and letters?” He’d never mentioned that.
“I get a lot of weird mail. I write dark books, it attracts crazy people sometime.”
I nodded.
“But they got pretty specific about Amanda, and I’d given them to the police, but they didn’t think they were valid evidence since they were coming from their lead suspect.”
“That sucks.”
Love Rebuilt Page 20
