But now, all of that has been put on hold. Margaret is missing, and it’s my duty to make sure my wife is found. I owe her, and I owe myself. We made a vow to have and to hold, and on this dark, chilly night, I won’t forsake her now.
4
Jenny
We clomp through the woods, our flashlights providing only tiny beams of light in the utter darkness. Brambles crackle beneath our feet as we scramble through brush breathlessly. Twigs snap back to hit my face, and I wince, trying not to cry out.
“You okay?” asks Stone in a deep voice. He sounds like he’s five feet to my right, but in this kind of darkness, my senses could be off. Maybe he’s actually fifteen feet away on my left, or twenty paces behind. Who knows?
“Um yeah, I’m fine,” I mutter, slapping away another low-hanging branch at the last minute. “I’ll be okay.”
He grunts and continues to stride forwards. How that man is able to move through the forest so quickly, I’ll never know. After all, I seem to get hit in the face about every other second or so, but before Stone, the path seems to widen and grow smooth. I swear it’s sorcery of some type.
Another sigh escapes my chest. How long have we been clomping outside? It feels like it’s been hours, although it’s probably only been thirty minutes or so. Yet, it’s so cold and miserable that my teeth are chattering and there’s already slushy snow inside my boots.
“Do you have the walkie-talkie?” I ask, trying to pull my scarf tighter as we walk. “Maybe we should check in.”
That makes Stone stop for a moment in his tracks. I hear his fingers fumble at something, and then he’s punching at the walkie-talkie. There’s a sharp crackle of electricity, and then it goes silent. Too silent.
“Oh shit. Now what?” I ask. “Did what I think just happened actually happen?”
Stone is silent, although I can see him fidgeting with the walkie-talkie still. Finally, he throws it on the ground and curses.
“Fuck!” comes the growl. “Piece of shit equipment.”
“I know, right?” I ask. “These things always break down when it’s least convenient.”
He swings around to stare at me.
“Yeah, but I’d say that this breakdown comes at a critical time for us. You and I are deep in the forest on a winter night. What the hell? What are we going to do? The search parties are spread out, so everyone else must be miles away now.”
I put a hand on his arm, which is bundled up in a winter jacket and god knows how many sweaters.
“We’re going to be fine, Stone. Why don’t we walk a little more? Or we can wave our flashlights in the air. Do you think someone might see us if we do that?”
He grunts.
“No, our flashlights are too weak. The beam barely even extends twenty feet. Besides, no one’s going to be looking up at the sky because Margaret’s not up there. Shit. What do we do?”
I try to stay calm.
“Keep walking then?”
He nods.
“Might as well.”
We begin to clomp through the woods again, but this time I try to make conversation.
“It’s funny we were paired up, don’t you think?”
He grunts.
“It’s not funny, Jenny. This is a crisis situation. They needed all bodies on the ground, doing what we can.”
That makes me shut up. He’s right. Margaret is in danger, and I need to keep a lid on it. But the night is still and ominous and I have to do something to lighten the mood. As we crash through the bushes, I try again.
“So how did you and Margaret meet?” I ask conversationally, pushing aside some more brambles. “She mentioned something about bumping into you on the sidewalk, but that’s it.”
His huge form continues to stride effortlessly up ahead, but he pauses to let me catch up.
“Yeah, we used to go to school in San Francisco, and we had a meet cute just like in the movies. She bumped into me and got coffee all over my shirt. We started talking, and that was that.”
I bounce on my toes excitedly, my voice brightening.
“Oh my gosh, it’s just like from that movie Notting Hill with Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts. You know, the one where she’s a world-famous celebrity and he’s a small bookshop owner? He bumps into her randomly on the street and gets orange juice all over her chest. Then he tries to clean it up, but she bats his hands away.”
Stone shoots me a wry glance.
“Yeah, a couple people have mentioned that movie to us before, documenting the similarities, but I’ve never had the time to see it.”
“Oh my gosh, you have to see it,” I gush. “Julia Roberts is so beautiful with her long, curly red hair, and Hugh Grant always has that floppy British-schoolboy look.”
He grins.
“I’m not going to watch any movie to see Hugh Grant,” he says dryly.
“Oh right,” I giggle. “I guess he doesn’t have that much charm when it comes to hetero male audience members. But still, it’s a cute movie if you like romantic comedy.”
“I definitely do not watch romantic comedy,” Stone says in a wry voice before beginning to walk again.
“You don’t?” I ask dumbfounded. “Margaret and I watched so many rom-coms together, we had a club for it. We called ourselves the Rom-Com Instalove Queens. We loved the fact that it only takes two hours to get to a happily ever after.”
He merely shakes his head, covering ground in long strides, and I scramble to keep up.
“Well, even if you didn’t like rom-coms, I know you were a good husband and watched them with Margaret anyways because that girl was always watching them. We were just talking about two that came out lately: that recent one with Amy Schumer and another one where the cast was all Asian. What was it called again? Oh yeah, Crazy Rich Asians. Very groundbreaking. You watched it with her, right? Because I remember Margaret was gushing about it non-stop and I think she mentioned you were streaming it together.”
But instead of nodding, Stone stays strangely silent.
“Oh wait, maybe it wasn’t Crazy Rich Asians on a streaming channel. It was another rom-com, but Margaret was always watching them because we talked about them all the time. And as a good husband, you were popping the popcorn and laughing at the corny jokes, right?”
But Stone still doesn’t answer. If anything, his expression looks very stone-like for a conversation about light romantic comedy.
“Oh, I know which movie it was!” I blabber. “It wasn’t a movie, it was that new show on Amazon Prime called The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. Okay, that one’s not exactly a romantic comedy, but it definitely has rom-com elements. I know you loved it because Margaret said you really enjoy stand-up comedy, and that’s where the comedy in this rom-com comes from.”
I’m basically babbling about ninety miles an hour by myself in the dark now. I know I should shut up and focus on the search, but the fact is that Stone’s silence is making me nervous. It’s already scary enough to be tromping through the Maine woods on a winter night. Why does he have to make it even worse by refusing to talk whatsoever?
But then, he spins around and pins me with his gaze.
“Jenny, I didn’t watch rom-coms with Margaret –”
“Oh I know,” I say breezily. “You were just popping the popcorn and pouring the wine.”
“No,” he says in a low tone. “I wasn’t watching rom-coms with Margaret, nor was I watching any kind of TV with her because we were separated. Margaret and I were on the cusp of getting a divorce, Jenny. We didn’t do anything together anymore.”
I stop dead in my tracks, staring at him.
“What? But you still live in the same house, and Margaret never mentioned anything about a separation, much less a divorce. You guys are happily married! You’ve been happily married for years now!”
He sighs, and his broad shoulders slump a bit.
“No, we haven’t been happily married for a long time now. We’ve been going our separate ways for probably at least two years, and we for
mally decided to separate about six months ago.”
“But you were still living under the same roof,” I say slowly.
He nods, with some anguish in his eyes.
“Yes, but it’s only because Margaret wanted to take her time looking for a new place. Besides, our separation was amicable, and so there was no need for her to leave in a hurry. But we didn’t share a bedroom anymore. I moved into the spare, and she stayed in the master.”
My jaw practically drops to the forest floor.
“Margaret didn’t mention any of this.”
He sighs and kicks a bit at a patch of dirt on the ground.
“Yes, because we didn’t want people to speculate while we were still living in the same house. But I swear to you, Jenny, that what I say is true: Margaret had already signed a lease on a new place and her stuff was all packed and ready to go. In fact, I was going to help move her to the new place tomorrow.”
My eyes are wide and my mouth dry. Really? Mags has been my best friend since forever, and it’s hard to believe that she kept this from me for an entire six months. We’ve shared everything in the past, from losing our virginities to our first boyfriends. It was Margaret that I called, sobbing and bawling, when I realized Steven was married. She knew everything about my love life; how is it possible that she neglected to tell me this?
But people will always surprise you.
“You’re not wearing your wedding band,” I say, looking at Stone’s tanned left hand. It’s rough and huge, like he knows his way around power tools and heavy machinery, and for the first time I notice that there’s a stripe of pale flesh where his band used to rest.
“I’m not,” he acknowledges in a low voice. “And I haven’t for a while now because Margaret and I decided it was no longer necessary. Our partnership was no longer a binding force anymore, for either of us. The ring was merely a piece of jewelry that had no meaning.”
I swallow, my pulse going fast. Did Margaret fall out of love with Stone? But how is that possible? The man before me is incredibly handsome, with his reddish brown hair, chiseled features, and incredibly muscular, athletic form. Not to mention the fact that he’s also sensitive, kind and a good husband too. He’s the one who organized the search for his missing wife. Does Margaret not know a good thing when it’s right in front of her?
“I can’t believe it,” I murmur under my breath. “This is crazy.”
But Stone merely shakes his head.
“No, Jenny, it’s not crazy. It’s been a long time coming, and our divorce was imminent. We just hadn’t announced it yet, because we wanted to do everything on our own timeline. But now, her disappearance has … well, I don’t know what we’re going to do now.”
I shake my head.
“I can’t believe it, Stone. I mean, every woman in Jericho will be after you once they find out that you’re getting a divorce. Is Margaret crazy? Hell, there are plenty of men in Jericho, but you know what they say: the odds are good, but the goods are odd.”
He laughs a little.
“You mean, how Old Man Tyke over on Cushing Corner keeps scarecrows on his front yard year-round? Or how Loren Harding runs the general store but everyone suspects he’s ripping them off somehow?”
I nod.
“Not only that, but a lot of the guys in Jericho think they’re god’s gift to women. They think that because beards are now hip, they’re channeling a Brooklyn vibe. Plus, they’re rugged and athletic, unlike city boys where I’m from.”
Stone throws his head back and laughs at that one.
“I doubt some of these guys know where Brooklyn is exactly.”
“It’s south of Manhattan,” I say stoutly. “You know, where hipsters go to live and thrive. Every restaurant in Brooklyn features waiters dressed in plaid, crackling fireplaces, and a hipster wagon wheel chandelier built from wood. There are probably antler decorations on the walls too.”
He merely chuckles again.
“You’re something, you know that, Jenny?”
I flush.
“You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?”
He shoots me a long look, his flashlight stopping on my toes for a moment.
“No, I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re very beautiful, yes, but not crazy.”
His words make me catch my breath.
“Really?” I ask. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“Really,” he growls in a deep voice. And suddenly, on that cold winter night, it happens. The separated Stone Harrison leans forward and presses his lips to mine, claiming me as the moon glows overhead and a wolf bays in the distance. I open my mouth to say something, but instead, the alpha male merely uses the opportunity to delve deeper, his tongue sweeping into my mouth with increasing possessiveness.
“I’ve been waiting to do this,” he rasps harshly while pulling me close. “I’ve wanted you for a long time, Jenny Rafferty, and the opportunity has finally come.”
5
Stone
I am a bastard of the highest order because I’m supposed to be searching for my missing wife, but instead I’m kissing her best friend in the cold night air, doing my best to pull that curvy form against me. I should be drawn and quartered for my actions, and yet, I’m not regretful at all because I’ve been watching Jenny for months now. Ever since Margaret and I decided to separate, there’s been a sense of freedom. I’m a newfound man now, and the world has cracked opened with possibilities. I never even realized how tied down I felt until Margaret set me free, and Jenny appeared on our doorstep.
It’s ironic, I know, that my wife introduced me to my secret love interest, but that’s sometimes how life works. And Margaret could sense the attraction too.
“You like her, don’t you?” she asked one night as we hammered out the details of our divorce.
I thought about lying at first, but it seemed ridiculous given the subject matter.
“I do like her,” I said slowly. “She’s funny, generous and warm. Sure, sometimes she seems a little loopy with the astrology and whatnot, but I do like her.”
Margaret was silent for a moment. But then she smiled at me, nodding.
“Well, be good to her Stone, okay? She’s been my best friend since high school, and Jenny’s gone through some rough relationships lately. I’d go slow with her.”
My wife’s generosity astounded me. Was she really giving me her blessing to go ahead and date her best friend? But it was true. A small corner of her mouth quirked up and she said, “I know both you and Jenny really well, Stone. And you know what? I think you could be good together. I only ask that you go public after I move out. Is that okay? If we were afraid of people talking while I’m still living here, imagine how crazy the gossip will be if you also start dating Jenny at the same time. It’ll be fodder for all five towns in Marin County.”
I threw my head back and laughed because Margaret was right. There was no sense in giving every old biddie in the state juicy gossip to dissect, so I agreed.
“I won’t date Jenny while you’re still living here. And I won’t breathe a word, period.”
“That sounds very serious,” my wife said lightly. “But I’m not some draconian evil queen. Once I’m gone, you can take up with Jenny, and I wish you well, Stone. I only want happiness for you, and not doom and gloom. This is a no-fault divorce, so let’s try to keep it that way, okay? We’re friends still, even if we’re going our separate ways.”
My heart swelled because in some ways, I did marry the right person. Margaret is a good, giving woman, and she doesn’t bear me any ill will despite the fact that our paths have diverged. So I just nodded and bided my time. I watched Jenny come and go, and spoke with her whenever she came to our cabin, but I never made a move. Out of respect for my wife, I’d wait until the right moment came.
But now, the moment is here. Or is it? Margaret was certainly about to move out, but then again, her disappearance throws an enormous wrench in everything. If we find her, will she need to be hospitalized
? After that, will she move back home, or will she move into the new apartment that already has half her stuff in it?
I know I should ponder these issues more, but right now, in the moonlight with the delectable Jenny in my arms, I don’t really care. I’ve been waiting and wanting this woman for months now, and to have her here, sighing against my mouth, fills me with an animal need. I pull her close and seize her lips again, breathing in her sweet scent.
“You’re gorgeous,” I rasp against her lips. “So beautiful.”
“Stone,” she murmurs, almost drowsily. “I didn’t know this could happen.”
“Oh, it can happen, sweetheart,” I growl. “But the question is: do you want it to?”
I pull back to look into her eyes. I need a clear answer because so many things have happened recently. Not only is my wife missing, but I literally just revealed to Jenny that we were in the middle of a separation and divorce. Is she okay with moving on with her best friend’s husband given this new information?
Jenny bites her lip and looks hesitant for a minute, but then she raises those big blue eyes to look at me. A small smile dances over her lips and I know my answer then.
“Yes, I want to,” she breathes. “I very much want to, Stone.”
That’s all I need to hear. My lips descend on hers once more, absorbing her sweetness, and she kisses me back, filled with passion and need. My hands stroke down her back, savoring the womanly curves, and suddenly something ignites in me. I have to have her, right now, even if the moment is inopportune.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” I rasp against her mouth. “But I have to taste these curves.”
She mewls something incoherent, but then lets out a small gasp because I’ve swung her into my arms. She’s as light as a feather and leans against my broad chest.
“What are you doing, Stone?”
I’m not sure, but instinct is making me act like a caveman. With sure steps, I clomp about thirty paces to the left towards a burned out old tree that I saw earlier. It’s a huge tree, at least ten feet in diameter, and was the victim of a controlled forest fire some years earlier. As a result, the stump is hollowed out inside and blackened. It’s filled with leaf debris that’s relatively dry and not unpleasant to the touch. Plus, the top of the stump is covered by the branches of other trees, giving our cove a warm and cozy feel.
My Best Friend's Husband Page 3
