I checked my notes in my purse. This was the right flight. Weston had to be on it or he would have phoned and told me his change in plans. I grabbed my cell phone. No missed calls. I was about to call home to see if he’d left me a message, when I noticed a gorgeous blonde woman walking behind a man in a wheelchair, swishing her waist-length hair with all the grace of a runway model. Not dressed in the uniform for this airline, I surmised she must be one of the passengers.
Weston exited the jet way behind her and slowed his pace, his gaze traveling left and right, until our eyes met. At once, he began a quick jog over to where I was waiting for him, picked me up and twirled me around, before placing me back down. He pressed his body into mine, kissing me, weaving his fingers through my hair. I could feel the bulge in his slacks hard and full against my abdomen and couldn’t wait to get him to the car!
Then I heard someone clearing their throat. Weston turned around sharply and I dropped my hands from where they were draped around his shoulders. The striking blonde I’d seen exit the plane in front of Weston was standing a few feet away from us.
“Brandy, this is my secretary, Carol Smith. She’ll be working on our project in San Francisco. Carol, this is my wife, Brandy.”
Chapter 11
“Hi, Brandy! It’s nice to finally meet you. Weston’s talked a lot about you.”
When I noticed Carol’s hand sticking out in mid-air, I grasped it and gave it a firm shake. “Nice to meet you, too. I didn’t know Weston was flying in with anyone.”
He put his arm around my shoulders, giving me a light squeeze. “Carol got bumped onto this flight but I was in first class. I was seated first and didn’t even know she was on the plane until we landed.”
She nodded. “I was supposed to leave much earlier but the flight was cancelled. I hate flying coach, but the company wouldn’t pay for my flight otherwise.” She laughed. “I just wish Weston could have gotten me a seat in first class.”
He shrugged. “Sorry, Carol. No can do.” He looked at me and rolled his eyes.
I wouldn’t make more out of this than necessary though I hadn’t forgotten the one conversation she and I had had several months back. Carol looked like a model on the front of Vogue magazine. But I’d be my normal generous self and welcome her to California. “Do you need a ride somewhere, Carol?”
She smiled, showing full lips glistening with red gloss. “Thank you but I’ve already arranged for a private driver to take me to Alameda.”
“You’ll be living in Alameda?” I tried to keep the surprise out of my tone but knew my face had already given me away.
She glanced over at Weston. “West told me how beautiful your little city is.”
I noticed she’d referred to him in the more “familiar” form. Calling him West seemed to flow easily from her hyper-glossed lips. “Will you be living in an apartment?”
She shook her head, her blonde hair falling like a sheet of water over her shoulders. “I’ll be renting a fabulous house on Santa Clara. I’ve seen pictures of it on the internet.”
“We should go to the baggage claim area,” Weston interrupted.
She turned around and began walking ahead of us, stepping onto the escalator. Every male head turned in her direction. I hadn’t exaggerated her beauty. She had a thousand-watt smile that would shake the socks off most men and she knew it. But I tried not to be catty, grabbed onto Weston’s solid left arm, and snuggled my ample breasts next to him for support.
He looked down at me and whispered, “I’ve missed you, Brandy.”
I smiled.
We stopped in front of the baggage carousel, and Carol turned toward me while we waited for the suitcases to begin pouring out the chute.
“So, Brandy. Weston tells me you’re pregnant. When’s your due date?”
“Sometime in early June. Do you have children?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Don’t want to be tied down. It’s just not my style.”
Nodding, I said, “Well, it’s not for everybody. It’s a good thing you realize that now. Being a parent is a real sacrifice.”
We were interrupted when Weston said, “Here come our bags. Which one’s yours, Carol?”
“The hunter green one over there.” She pointed toward a Coach suitcase spilling down the chute. “I’ll get it, West.”
“No, don’t worry. I’ve got it.”
I stood next to Carol, watching Weston lean over the edge of the carousel and grab a dark green suitcase, along with two of his own pieces of luggage. He brought them over to where we were waiting, dropping hers at her feet.
He let out a deep breath. “Geez, what have you got in there?”
She laughed, poking him in the ribs with one of her perfectly manicured nails. “You mean you don’t know?”
He shook his head, frowning, his face tinged a deep shade of red. Walking toward the turnstile, he shoved the claim tickets into the hands of the nearest security person and moved out toward the elevators leading to the parking lot.
Traffic had died down by then, and the drive to Alameda took only thirty minutes. I was preoccupied thinking about Carol Smith. She was drop-dead gorgeous and suddenly the arguments Weston and I had had when he arrived in New York stood out as possible evidence something could have been going on between him and this woman.
I recalled the conversation I’d had with her when I’d phoned and Weston’s defensive attitude when he and I discussed it afterward. Would she continue to be his secretary here too? A small cloud had been hovering over me since she’d arrived at the airport.
Wending our way through traffic, Weston laid his hand on mine, squeezing my fingers in his large grasp.
“I’ve missed you so much, Brandy. Have you missed me?”
I looked over at his profile, noting how handsome he was, realizing it wouldn’t be surprising at all that other women were attracted to him. “I’m going crazy living in such a big house all by myself.”
He smiled. “God, it’s good to see you. I’ve waited for this day for a long time.”
“Are you sure about that?”
He pulled the Mercedes into the fast lane and we flew across the Bay Bridge. “What do you mean?” he asked, taking a quick glance at me.
I hesitated, not wanting to start an argument. “Can we talk more when we get home? I’m so tired I could go to sleep right now.”
He paused, his brow furrowed. “This pregnancy seems to be taking its toll on you.”
“It’ worse than last time. I’m just exhausted.” I glanced out the side window, seeing Alcatraz Island in the distance over his shoulder, recalling the evening our first baby was conceived. “Hopefully that’s not a bad sign.”
“What does Dr. Farney say?”
“That I’m fine, the baby’s fine, and to quit worrying.”
“Stressing yourself out won’t do you or the baby one bit of good.” Bringing my hand to his lips, he grazed my knuckles with a light kiss. “The same thing isn’t going to happen again, you know?”
“How do you know that?” My voice quivered with emotion.
“Because I trust Dr. Farney. If she said you’ll be fine, I believe her. Brandy, what happened with Christine was terrible but not typical. This is a new pregnancy, a new baby. You’ll get through this just fine. And I’ll be right there with you.”
I turned to look out my window, watching the sailboats tacking back and forth across the bay, contemplating the past. “I know you will.”
Within moments, he pulled the car into our driveway and shut off the engine. Turning toward me, he placed his hands on my shoulders. “Wanna go inside?”
I nodded, staring into his deep brown eyes.
He leaned over the console and gently placed his hand under my chin, bringing my face closer to his. He lightly traced the edges of my lips with his tongue then deepened the kiss. Pulling away, he grabbed the door handle, jumped out, and came around to help me out of the car.
I noticed him looking around the neighborhood. “Did
you miss this place?”
“Yeah, I did. Alameda’s a quiet little town. I didn’t like falling asleep to the sounds of traffic…alone in bed without you next to me.”
He took my hand and we walked to the front door then he led me through the foyer up to our bedroom. Pulling me gently toward him, he guided me down beside him on the comforter, then slid my dress off my shoulders, past my breasts, over my hips, and threw it onto the floor, leaving me with nothing but my black lace underpants.
“You are so damn beautiful, Brandy,” he whispered, slowly inching his way on top of me. He straddled my hips and unzipped his jeans, revealing his already engorged member, glistening with anticipation of our coupling. His hands splayed across my belly, his fingers drawing my panties down past my knees, inching them along my ankles and feet, where I kicked them off to the side.
I took him in my hand and guided him inside me, wrapped my legs around his back, squeezing his body tightly against mine. Rocking in tune to our own sweet music, we rode the waves of our mutual orgasms, whispering “I love yous” until exhaustion overtook our sweat-drenched bodies.
He heaved himself to the side of me, his arm draped across my waist, cradling my back against his chest. Suddenly, images of having sex with Edward sliced through my half-slumber. This hadn’t happened to me over Labor Day when West and I had last made love. It seemed strange they should appear now, so much later after my transgression. When should I tell him? It was too late tonight. I could already hear his deep breathing, jet lag overtaking him within moments.
“Tomorrow,” I whispered to no one…
Chapter 12
I awoke to Weston placing a breakfast tray at the bottom of the bed. I could smell Columbian roast coffee, and when I looked down large buttery croissants lay on white china plates, with linen napkins on the side.
“Where’d you get the pastries, West?”
“Merritt Bakery in Oakland, right through the Posey Tube. Took me fifteen minutes round trip. I knew you’d still be in bed.”
“Thanks, I’m starving. I don’t remember being this ravenous…” I reached for one, but Weston was faster and grabbed me by the wrist, slowly pushing me back onto the bed.
“Not so fast. I’m hungry too but not for breakfast.”
“Oh, I see how it is.” I giggled. “You thought you’d start my juices flowing when I smelled the coffee, then swoop down for the kill.” I placed the back of my hand against my forehead. “I feel faint from lack of nutrition. I am with child, you know.”
He grinned, kissed me full on the mouth and let me sit up. I grabbed the sheet to cover my ever-growing breasts, and stuffed one end of the croissant into my mouth. He stirred cream into my coffee and brought the cup to my lips. I moaned in appreciation.
“You spoil me, you know? That’s why I love you so much,” I cooed.
“Not for my infectious laugh? My smashing personality?” He dabbed at my lips with the napkin. “You’re so beautiful when you’re pregnant. There’s something about your body that just makes me want to eat you up.”
“Awww. That’s so sweet, West. I know some guys wouldn’t be turned on seeing their wife pregnant. I guess you’re one of the special ones.”
His kisses started at my neck, moving down my stomach to my inner thighs, then my knees. He worked his way back up again, stopping at my breasts. I tilted my head back, enjoying every moment of his loving me.
An unwanted glimpse of Edward and me on the couch cut sharply through my mind and my body flinched.
“Brandy?” He hesitated and sat up, a worried look on his face. “Is it the baby?”
I couldn’t do this again without telling him. The guilt overwhelmed me. “Can we talk?”
He moved to the foot of the bed, letting out an exasperated sigh. “We’re just getting a chance to spend time together, I’m about to make mad and passionate love to you, and you want to have a discussion?”
I closed my eyes, knowing I couldn’t go on like this, knowing there’d never be a good time to tell him the truth. It wasn’t right to keep him ignorant of what I’d done.
The bed dipped down, I could feel him next to me. “I didn’t mean to be harsh, babe. What’s wrong?” He put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze.
What was that expression about time not waiting for anyone? This was it. I had to confess. “I was so messed up last year after I lost Christine—”
“Let’s not go there, Brandy,” he interrupted. “That was back in June and you’ve come such a long way. We’re going to have a baby. You should be happy.”
I looked down at my hands, then up at him. One tear dripped down my right cheek. “Let me get this out, okay? I need to say this and get it off my chest.”
He tipped his head, looking unsure. “I won’t interrupt again.”
Letting out a breath, I looked away. I felt like such a traitor. “Right after you left for New York I met an old classmate of mine from high school. He invited me to his house for dinner.” I paused, took another deep breath. “We had sex. Once. I never saw him again.” I turned to look at him, gauge his reaction.
He didn’t move for several seconds and I kept quiet, waiting for him to say something, anything. He stood up in slow motion, bent down to pick up his jeans still lying in a heap on the rug from our night of passion, and roughly jammed his legs into the pants.
“What are you doing? Where are you going? Please, Weston, let’s talk about this.”
“I work my ass off in New York while you’re at home screwing other dudes?”
I pulled the sheet around me, ran over and grabbed his arm. “I wasn’t screwing other dudes.” He ripped his arm out of my grasp. “I was the one who was all screwed up. Then you went to New York and all we ever did was argue on the phone. You don’t tell your secretary you’re married and she treats me like shit on the phone…”
By now, he was fully dressed, shoes and jacket on, wallet grabbed off the bureau. His hand hovered above the doorknob. His face looked void of emotion, wiped clean of all expression. “I can’t do this,” he mumbled.
I sobbed, knowing I’d hurt him and betrayed his trust. I felt like a slut. “I’m sorry,” I cried. “I made a mistake. But I love you, Weston.”
He stood near the door, shaking his head, tears dripping from his chin.
“I know I’ve hurt you and that wasn’t my intention. I wasn’t thinking straight.” My legs shook. My stomach cramped. I had to make him understand. “I’ll regret it forever. You don’t deserve this but I’m asking you to forgive me.”
His eyes swam with tears, his chin quivered with emotion. “I had sex with Carol Smith.”
I drew in a sharp breath and clamped my hand over my mouth.
“But only once,” he continued. “I was so damn drunk and out of my mind, worrying about you and how depressed you were. I couldn’t help you, you’d rejected me, wouldn’t make love to me. I guess I was feeling sorry for myself.” He paused and took a deep breath. “And it never happened again. I woke up the next morning in my hotel room—alone.”
Granted, I’d wondered whether Weston had had a fling with his secretary; but going over the scenario in my head, I never imagined my telling him about Edward would lead to his revealing his own tale about Carol.
“Both of us?” my voice came out in a whisper. I wasn’t sure he’d heard me.
“Both of us screwed up,” he answered, his voice shaky.
Our eyes locked in a stare. Silence pounded in my ears. This was surreal.
“What do we do now? I still love you, West.”
“And I love you,” he murmured.
I walked over to the bed, covered myself with the comforter, and hid my face in the pillow and cried. What was I supposed to do? Both of us had to forgive the other but then what? I was five months pregnant. We were expecting a baby in June. We needed to make plans for our future, if there was going to be one.
The sun’s rays edged their way through the white lace curtains covering the bedroom wi
ndows. Six o’clock in the morning, and I’d slept through the night. Weston was lying beside me, his warm body curled against mine. I turned toward him, feeling exhausted from our argument but needing to know we could somehow get through this problem together. His eyes were wide open.
“Brandy, I’m so sorry,” he said softly. He fingered a stray tendril of my hair, tucking it behind my ear. “Do you love this guy?”
Tears dripped from the corners of my eyes onto the pillow, never dreaming we’d be in this situation. “I never had feelings for him. We probably spent a total of fifty minutes together. I was so depressed, I couldn’t get past my grief over losing our baby. Then when you and I couldn’t do anything but fight—”
“We were both hurting, Brandy. I thought you didn’t love me anymore. When I got so drunk and Carol came onto me like a bitch in heat, I—”
I interrupted him. “I don’t need to hear it.”
He placed his mouth on my lips, deepened the kiss, and pressed his lower body toward mine. I gave in to my desire for him. We’d been apart for too long, and I needed to feel the closeness we’d always shared.
Our lovemaking felt frantic. Like two boats in danger of capsizing, we both were paddling madly to stay afloat. We lay there afterward trying to catch our breath, silent, the bedside clock ticking off the minutes. Thinking about our relationship, I believed we were stronger than our individual moments of misguided passion with strangers.
Lying on my back, staring at the ceiling, I whispered, “Can we get past this? Move on and forget this ever happened?”
Placing his hand on my waist, he turned me toward him, looked me in the eyes, his cheeks wet with tears. “That’s what I want, Brandy. I’ll do anything to keep you. I wish I’d never met Carol Smith. First thing Monday morning she’ll be transferred to another department. I don’t want you to feel suspicious of what I’m doing while I’m at work. I’ll make sure you never doubt me.” He was crying softly, his head lying on the side of my pillow.
Moon Over Alcatraz Page 7
