by A. C. Arthur
Monica had been up for hours. To tell the truth, she’d never really fallen asleep. Guilt and embarrassment were worse than caffeine when it came to going to sleep. She’d lain in that bed staring at the ceiling, pulling the blankets up to her neck since she wasn’t about to ask Alex to light the fireplace in the bedroom, and she’d closed and locked the door so any semblance of heat from the fireplace in the living room wasn’t getting in. That didn’t matter; she could survive the cold. Surviving the humiliating scene that had played out in the living room wasn’t going to be as easy.
She’d acted like a complete idiot. Well, to her credit, she hadn’t been able to help it. The past had mixed with the present and that wasn’t good. She remembered the past so vividly even though it had become her daily mantra to forget. The past had been humiliating, as well. The present—Alex—wasn’t supposed to end this way. It was going to end. Whatever was going on between them, that was a given. She couldn’t have it any other way. But it was supposed to end on her terms, with her walking away head held high. Instead she’d run away, again.
About two hours ago she’d realized the electricity was back on and she’d snuck out of the room to finally get a hot shower and change her clothes. Now her bags were packed and she was more than ready to leave this cabin and find her own room until she could secure a return flight back to New York. She could have left an hour ago, but something about sneaking out while Alex slept didn’t sit well with her. She couldn’t run forever. Besides, Alex struck her as the type of man who’d show up on her doorstep back home. Better she get the confrontation with him over with now.
It was almost ten in the morning when she put her bags on her arms and walked out of the room. The cabin was quiet and she wondered if Alex was actually still asleep. She’d thought she heard him moving around, but outside her window she’d noted there was some cleanup activity going on. Wherever the noise had come from she was on her way to the living room and then to the door.
Alex was already there.
She stopped the moment she saw him standing near the door. He had on his coat and boots and looked even more delicious than he had when he was dressed only in sweats and a T-shirt. Today, however, he also looked dangerous. When he heard her approach he turned to look at her.
“Mornin’,” he said in a deep drawl. His eyes took in everything, from her neatly pulled-back hair to the tips of her black leather boots and no doubt the bags she had draped over her shoulder.
Monica stopped, stood still and said, “Good morning.”
“I was just going to check to see if they’ve finished shoveling the front path. I’m all packed and rented a car already so we can be on our way just as soon as the roads out are cleared.”
“We?” she asked, trying to digest everything he’d said.
He’d just opened the door so chilly air swept inside, making her shiver.
“Yes, we. There are still no available rooms here, but there’s a small town just down the mountain. We can drive there, get a room for the night then take the flight out on New Year’s Eve. I’ve already secured us two tickets since we missed our previous flights due to the storm.”
“Ah, okay,” she said, not sure if he was being high-handed and presumptuous or just kindhearted and considerate. “Have you seen my phone?”
Alex slipped his leather jacket on and took a step outside. “It’s in the living room charging. I suggest you try one of our phones. The battery is more stable and we have a patented waterproof coating. If not, then you’re definitely going to need a new battery for yours when you get home.”
“Thanks,” she replied just as he was closing the door.
When she was alone Monica put down her bags and moved into the living room. Her phone was on one of the end tables plugged into a charger. As she lifted it up she could hear his voice telling her she’d need a new one. Closing her eyes with the phone in her hand she heard him last night trying to calm her, to comfort her. And she’d turned him away.
That had been the right move. Protecting herself was a necessity now, not just the habit that everyone thought it was. She couldn’t give any part of herself again, couldn’t risk the pain and humiliation she’d endured the last time. So what if she was becoming one of the proverbial angry sistahs with attitude. Monica didn’t give a damn what people thought about her.
But maybe she did. Maybe that was the real reason she’d kept what happened in South Carolina a secret. She’d never told anyone, not even her sisters what Yates had done to her. And she never would. No one would believe her—that’s what he’d told her. And she believed him. Even after all this time, after all the lies that had been uncovered, after the ultimate betrayal, the one thing Yates had said that she truly believed in her heart was that nobody would ever believe her story.
“We’re all set,” he said from behind, causing Monica to jump.
She cleared her throat. “All right. I’ll just get my coat and my bags.” Not turning around to face him, she pulled the charger cord from the wall and wrapped it in her hand.
“I’ll take your bags to the car. Button up tight. It’s really cold out here.”
And then he was gone.
His niceness was going to undo her, Monica was certain. Alex wasn’t mentioning what happened last night, no doubt giving her the space he figured she needed to deal with it on her own. She had to respect him for that. The fact that he’d gotten up and secured them a way out of this cabin and back to the city was no small feat and one she was very thankful for, even if she hadn’t expressed that to him.
When she was secured in the passenger seat of the white SUV Alex had rented and he was in the driver’s seat driving slowly down the slope that led from their infamous cabin retreat, Monica spoke quietly.
“Thank you for being so considerate. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.”
For the next two and a half hours Alex didn’t say another word. And strange as it might seem, Monica really wanted him to. She wanted him to talk about his family or ask about hers, talk about his job or hers or the weather, something. This silence was grating on her nerves.
“I’m not all bad, you know,” she heard herself saying before she could question why.
“Never said you were” was his simple reply.
“I know people think I’m a bitch. But I’m really not.”
“People usually think one-dimensionally. Your personality gives off cold vibes. It stands to reason people would think you’re a bitch.”
“But I’m not,” she replied adamantly.
“I don’t usually think like other people.” He glanced over at her before looking back at the road. “I knew there was more to you the first time I saw you.”
That held her quiet.
“I knew there was more to you, too.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, I knew you were going to be difficult.”
“Because I’m tenacious.” He smiled. “I’ve heard that before.”
“No. Because I knew you saw something else. It’s like no matter what face I put on when you were around, you saw through it.” She looked out the window, watching the endless stretch of white that was the hills and land beyond the roads. As for the road itself, it was a slushy dirt-brown mush that took away from the otherwise pristine scenery. The scenery that was sterile, aloof, alone. Why that thought stuck like a brick in her chest, Monica had no idea.
“You can’t hide forever, Queen. And whatever happened in your past isn’t worth you trying to.”
“What happened in your past, Alex? Why aren’t you happily married to some wonderful woman, giving her all this caring and compassion you seem to have bottled up?”
“I’ve had some rocky relationships and the reason I’m not happily married is because I haven’t found the right woman.”
“The perfect woman, you mean. The woman that you give your heart to has to be perfect, right?”
“No. She has to be the woman for me, the woman that I go to sleep thinking about and
wake up wanting desperately to see. I don’t care if she’s successful in business or a waitress depending on her tips to make her monthly bills. I’m not looking on the outside for the woman of my dreams, but on the inside because that’s where she truly is.”
She sighed. “So poetic. So thought-out. I should have expected nothing less.”
“Do you want to argue, Queen? Or do you want to get to know each other better? I can do both. I just need to know which way the conversation is headed.”
“I’m not—” she started to say but was cut off by the abrupt swaying of the SUV.
Alex had been watching the rearview mirror as he’d been talking to Monica. There was a smaller black SUV right behind them. The windows were tinted dark so he couldn’t see if it was a man or woman driving. He’d noted how close the other vehicle seemed to be tailing them, but figured maybe the other driver wanted to keep close since they were traveling under the speed limit on the slush-packed road with puddles and patches of snow as well as ice. It was rugged terrain that called for cautious driving. So when the other vehicle had suddenly picked up speed Alex knew it wasn’t going to be good.
The black SUV had crossed into the other lane, coming up beside them and turning so that the vehicles would collide. Alex, thinking quickly, turned the steering wheel, pulling their vehicle away from the other one. Monica didn’t scream but held on to the handle over the passenger window as the SUV jerked and swayed.
They must have hit a patch of ice because suddenly the tires went haywire, the steering wheel becoming only a fixture in the truck as Alex lost all control. Extending an arm outward and over Monica’s chest, he attempted to protect her as they tumbled onto the side of the road. A hill of snow blanketed the front half of the truck, planting them lopsided on and off the road.
When their vehicle stopped Alex fumbled to get the seat belt off. “Stay here!” he yelled at Monica then pushed his door open and jumped out into the snow.
How he thought he was going to run after the other vehicle when the snow came up to his knees Alex had no clue, but he stomped through, kicking snow everywhere in his attempt.
The other vehicle sped off, kicking up more snow and slush in a rain of white as Alex’s curses joined the commotion.
After making his way back to the truck, he went right to the passenger-side door and reached for the handle. He was shocked to find Monica still holding the handle, her entire body shaking. Clenching his teeth at the sight, he took a deep breath then reached over to undo her seat belt. With careful motions he touched her fingers, unwrapped them from the handle and pulled her into his arms.
“It’s okay, Queen. You’re okay. Just a little fender bender.” He held her close. Alex had a suspicion it was more than that.
Chapter 14
The interior of the truck hadn’t reached the freezing point yet. Alex had moved them to the backseat, pulling out blankets that had been stored there by the resort just in case. A good thing the staff had the sense to think about “just in case,” Alex thought as he and Monica slid closer on the backseat. He wrapped an arm around her and they both pulled at their ends of the blankets until they were covered up to their chins.
“How long did the tow truck say they’d be?” Monica asked, trying desperately not to shiver again. She was cold and she was more than a little shaken up by the accident, but Alex had already held her and she’d already assured him she was fine. It was time she acted like it.
“About an hour,” he said, pulling her even closer.
“So we’ll just stay like this, hoping our combined body heat and these blankets will keep us warm until they get here?”
“Sounds like a plan,” he responded with a wry chuckle. “You comfortable?”
She was, surprisingly. With her body tucked against his and the two thick blankets wrapped securely around them, Monica was beginning to feel better. She was beginning to feel safe.
“Yes,” she finally responded. “That other driver was a maniac. I can’t believe he didn’t even stop to see if we were okay. I wish I’d gotten his license number so I could report him.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Alex said. “Let’s talk about something else. Something cheerful.”
“You want cheerful when we’re stuck in this truck that’s stuck in the snow?”
He chuckled, but it didn’t sound sincere. “Humor me.”
Okay, Monica thought. She could do that. Alex had jumped out of the truck and had been moving ever since to get them help and make them as comfortable as possible in these circumstances. If being cheerful was the least Monica could do, she’d certainly give it a try.
“When I was ten I wanted to be a superhero.”
The interior of the truck was instantly silent.
Monica took a nervous breath but wouldn’t look at Alex. “I used the sheet from my bed and tied it around my neck. I’d been in ballet for two years by then so I had leotards and tights in every color imaginable. I put the blue ones on and pretended my green-and-white floral-print sheet was red and used it for a cape. When my costume was complete with my red leather rider boots I stood on the wrought-iron edge of my full-size canopy bed and jumped.
“The plan was to fly across the room to the dresser. Nothing big, I was just practicing. You know, building my way up to things like flying down the steps, into the den and eventually out the front door up to the sky. So, I misjudged the distance or the floral sheet wasn’t as helpful as I thought it should be. Afterward I thought maybe because it was the wrong color. Anyway, I leaped off the bed and was airborne for about ten seconds before the side of my face crashed into the edge of the dresser.”
“Ow” was Alex’s surprising reply.
Monica only nodded, remembering the pain that came about twenty seconds after the collision.
“At first I was just dazed, but happy that I’d made progress. My dresser was a couple feet away from the bed. Then my mother barged into the room. Karena and Deena, who I had dubbed ‘action news’ because they reported everything that I did or said to my mother without delay, were right behind her. All three of them just stared at me for a few minutes. Then my mother went into action. She was scooping me up off the floor, yelling for Karena to get towels and for Deena to grab the phone and call 911.”
“Were you crying?”
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t cry until later that night when we finally made it to the emergency room and the doctor said he’d have to stitch my eye closed. Then, you could have told me Santa Claus was in the next room with a bag of goodies just for me and I wouldn’t have shut my mouth.”
Alex did laugh then and Monica found herself joining right in. The memory was still so clear in her mind even though she hadn’t talked about it in years and she’d never talked about it to someone she wasn’t related to.
On impulse she reached for his hand and lifted it until his fingers could brush over the barely there scar embedded now beneath her professionally arched eyebrows.
“My war scar,” she told him and was surprised into silence when he leaned over and replaced his fingers with his lips for a tender kiss.
“There. All better.”
Monica sighed. “My hero.”
Settling back and pulling Monica even closer to him this time, it was Alex’s time to share.
“It was Christmas Eve. I was thirteen. Rico and Renny are three and six years younger than me, and they were there. We wanted to get a peek at our presents before everyone woke up. So we faked sleep early, avoiding the ritual of watching Christmas movies in the den with popcorn and hot chocolate. Gabriella and Adriana loved that stuff. Us boys simply endured it for my mother’s sake.
“Anyway, it was around three in the morning when we, the three musketeers, crept down the steps. My mother loves all things Christmas so there was always a huge tree in the Bennett house. Half the den was filled with presents and holiday paraphernalia so that it took her the entire month of January to clean it all up.
“There were so many box
es and we just dug in, opening any and everything. Tossing the dolls and baby carriages aside, grinning like crazy over the Legos, Tonka trucks and army men. We were so busy unwrapping gifts we didn’t pay any attention to what Bonkers was doing.”
“Bonkers?” she asked quizzically.
“Our chocolate-brown Lab who played just as hard and got into as much trouble as the three musketeers did.”
Monica nodded. A grin was already spreading across her face. She hadn’t pegged Alex for a pet guy, but could clearly hear the love in his voice as he spoke of Bonkers.
“Bonkers wanted to get in on the opening of gifts, as well. So he’d loped on over to the tree, scooting on his stomach until he was firmly beneath it, and grabbed hold of a box. The box probably lodged on a branch or something and Bonkers became frantic with trying to retrieve his catch. It was too late the moment the three of us looked up and Rico whispered for Bonkers to stop. The dog was too far gone, his package firmly between his teeth as he continued the tug-of-war. We’d just stood up to go and get him when it started to tilt.”
“What started to tilt?”
“The tree,” Alex said with a sense of dread. “All eight-and-a-half feet of Douglas fir tilted and wobbled before falling on top of Bonkers and the three musketeers.”
Monica laughed so hard and so fast she didn’t have time to think of whether or not it was appropriate.
Their laughter subsided only to be replaced by a sort of needy silence. The closeness could not be denied, not only physically but intimately. Beneath the blankets Monica felt warmth radiating between them. One of his arms was wrapped around her shoulders and the other rested in front of them on his lap. Both her hands were in her lap until he lifted his hand and cupped her chin, titlting her head up to his. She touched his elbow then, rubbing her hand over his biceps and back again.
