“Ah.” He smiled then froze. “I suppose there’s only one real concern. Do you like Monty Python?”
“My favorite is the Holy Grail.”
“Excellent. You see? We’re ideally suited.”
I laughed. “What about you? What’s your favorite? Or favorites?”
“Anything with Nicholson in it. The Godfather films. Tim Burton.” He shrugged before he added, “I suppose I agree with you. It is a mood thing. What about a favorite dessert?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Honestly? I gave up eating fun food a year ago. So I’d have to say a pear is my single favorite sweet food. It’s a bit indecent, the amount of enjoyment I get out of a really juicy pear.”
“I’ll have to remember that.” His eyes were amused as he searched my face.
“Do you have a sweet weakness?”
“I enjoy Pop-Tarts quite a bit.”
I was laughing again. “Pop-Tarts? Really? Any particular flavor?”
He laughed too, saying, “The ones with the colored sprinkles and the red jelly inside. I don’t know what they are, but I like them.”
“Strawberry. The kids love them, too.”
We stayed locked in our loose embrace. “Books?” he asked.
“We’re back to the mood-dictating thing again. I have several authors I enjoy, Orwell, Orson Scott Card, Austen, Winspear. Anything that makes me laugh. And I have a few choice historical romances for pure escape.”
“The first two aren’t lightweights. I’m a fan of the classics, Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Bronte.”
I nodded. “A good story can be powerful.”
“Like yours,” he said, his hand smoothing a curl from my forehead. “Any news from New York and your publisher?”
I found myself leaning into his touch. “They want me to pick some dates and a few cities for a possible limited release tour. Shannon thinks I should make a stop in New York, too.”
“Are you thinking of New York as a possible home?” His brow rose in question.
“I’m trying to find a place I can afford, a place that’s a good fit for the kids.” I shook my head. “I know nothing about New York except that it’s too big a change for me and the kids. And the cost of living, there’s no way.” I shrugged. “I’m not in any real hurry, though. I’d hate to uproot them so close to the end of the school year. May isn’t so far away.”
“You’re a good mum, Claire.” He kissed me, his hands sliding around my waist.
“I want to be.” I kissed him back, my hands roaming over him. I sighed. “I like touching you.” Saying those words made me exceedingly nervous.
“That’s very nice to hear,” he said softly.
“It’s not easy to say.”
He kissed my forehead. “You just need more practice. It will get easier in time.”
I looked up at him, enjoying the feel of his arms tightening around me.
“I should get the bags.” His arms slipped from me.
“You said something about hot water?”
“Ah,” he answered, nodding. “Soak in the tub, eh?”
“Sounds like heaven to me.”
“Agreed. I’ll be right back.” And he headed out to collect our bags from the car.
I turned on the hot water and put the stopper in. There was a tall bottle of peppermint bath salts sitting on the counter. I opened it, sniffed the invigorating mint, and sprinkled some under the running tap. The steam off the water rose, scenting the air.
“Your bag’s on the bed.” He leaned in, smiling at me.
“You’re fast.”
“Yes. We’re about to have a bath together.” He was yanking his clothes off while he spoke.
I laughed, leaving him long enough to dig out my silk robe. “Do you need anything?” I called out to him.
“You, whenever you care to join me.”
I peeked into the bathroom. His clothes were piled on the floor. He sat, smiling, in the steaming water with one foot dangling over the edge of the large claw foot bathtub. “This is quite a tub.”
“Mum used to hide in here for her quiet time. It’s a nice place for that.”
“Did your father ever join her?” I asked as I began to remove my clothes.
His brow elevated, a small smile forming. “I don’t care to know that information, Claire.” He watched me as I undressed.
“It’s a huge tub, lots of room for one person.” I giggled and threw my bra at him. I stepped over the edge, sinking to my knees in the delightfully warm water at his feet. He was staring at me and I paused, looking at him. “What?”
His gaze traveled over me as he murmured, “You’re lovely.”
I smiled, blushing. I loved that he thought I was beautiful. But it was hard to accept, even from him. In the past, flattery had been used as a lure, always leading to something bad.
“Does it bother you? For me to tell you how beautiful I find you?”
He doesn’t miss a thing. I met his eyes. “A little.”
He smiled slightly. “You are beautiful. It astounds me that you don’t see that.”
“I’m a little self-critical. Focusing on my flaws.”
His eyes slid over my form. “What flaws?” His brow furrowed.
“You want me to catalogue them?” I tried to tease.
He wasn’t amused. He shook his head, regarding me steadily.
I held out my right hand, turning my arm over to expose the long thin scar that ran from the inside of my elbow to my wrist. “That’s not lovely.”
He took my arm, dropping soft kisses the length of the scar. I stared at him. I stood and turned, exposing the scar from my broken rib. The doctor had done wonders with a needle and thread.
Josh’s hand covered it, rubbing over the scar. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss over the indention, his breath warm on my skin. I raised my left arm, displaying the line from under my breast into my armpit.
He looked up at me as his fingers traced along the scar. “You don’t need to show me anything else.” His hands clasped my wrists and pulled me into the water to face him. “Your scars aren’t flaws, Claire. The only flaw is what you can’t let go of. Somehow you think you’re responsible for what he did.” He pushed the hair from my shoulder.
I felt myself withdrawing a bit, my eyes dropping to the water. But I stopped, forcing myself to consider his words, to hear the truth in them. “Yes, I guess…maybe.”
“Why?” He sounded strained.
I shrugged. “I told you. I let him down.”
His voice was low and taut. “You truly believe being a ‘better wife’ would have prevented this?” He looked at me with wide eyes. “Prevented his abuse?”
I looked at him curiously, then blew out the air I felt trapped in my suddenly tight throat.
His hand found my hand in the water. “You’re not to blame for any of what happened.” His voice was low as he spoke. “I can understand the need to find a reason, some explanation.” He held me against him then. “But you’re not that reason. Claire, nothing you did was responsible for his actions. You were a victim, whether you like the word or not.”
“I know that, sometimes. Other times I think I must have done something. Because I thought I knew him and understood him. And it’s terrifying that my judgment was so messed up. How can I ever trust myself again?”
“You have to try.”
“I will. I am. It’s just hard to start over.” I paused before saying, “I know it’s pathetic, but, as you said that night, self-examination can be hard.”
He made a face. “I didn’t know what I was saying, Claire. I spat out words without knowing what you’d been through. I was looking for a way to get your attention.”
I smiled at him. “You have it.” His hands tightened around mine. “I can’t forgive myself because I didn’t leave earlier. I put the kids in danger. I did that.”
Josh was staring at me, his jaw locked. He pulled me into his lap. “You did protect your children. You finally left him. You did that.”
“You’re strong. And kind, even now,” he said softly. “When I read your manuscript, I had no idea it was true. I couldn’t imagine a woman that forgiving, that loving, that she would continue to give chance after chance.”
“It was stupid,” I murmured.
“You held on to hope. That’s not stupid.”
I admitted, “I was afraid, too.”
“Understandably.” His arms were warm and gentle around me. “I don’t know how you found the courage to leave.”
“I didn’t have a choice. Natalie came in and saw us. I hadn’t been able to catch myself when he hit me, so I fell and…that’s when I got this.” I pointed to my arm. The words spilled out. “I fell into my grandmother’s curio cabinet and shattered the glass doors. The noise woke Nat and she ran in to see what had happened. She was so scared. Until Daniel told her I’d fallen. Again. But seeing her, her fear, made me face the truth. I’d been putting them in danger every day. Me, the mother who was supposed to protect them. Leaving was the only choice.”
Josh’s face was ashen.
“God, I’m sorry, Josh. I don’t know why I just—” I choked.
“Don’t be sorry. Don’t be sorry anymore.”
I stared at him, my heart in my throat, before settling my head against his chest.
His hand rubbed up and down my back as he spoke, “I want you to share everything with me, even when it’s painful.” He kissed the top of my head. “You’re not a victim, you’re right. You’re a survivor. And as condescending as this may sound, I’m proud of you.”
I smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
His eyes traveled over my face. He kissed me once, softly, then tucked me back in against him.
We sat in comfortable silence until the water grew cool. Shivering, we had no choice but to move. He turned on the hot water and I leaned forward, grabbing the soap and washcloth.
“Let me.” He took the washcloth and lathered it up. “I’ll get your back.”
His touch was firm, rubbing my back. It felt heavenly. “You’re next,” I said.
“Fair enough.” I could hear the smile on his face. “So, where did we leave off? Books?”
I nodded, arching my back forward as he used firm strokes across my lower back.
His voice was soft. “On to music. Top four favorite groups and least favorite groups.”
I giggled. “I’m assuming you don’t mean lullabies or kids’ stuff?”
“What do you listen to when it’s just you?” He laughed. “I bet I know.”
I stared at him over my shoulder. “I bet you don’t.”
“Eminem?” He was teasing me.
He was in for a shock next time my iPod was around.
***
Morning came, the soft patter of rain waking me. I lay still, listening to the peaceful sounds of morning. Between the faint drumming of the rain, the distant sound of a train whistle, and Josh’s steady breathing, I savored the sleepy morning languor from beneath the duvet.
I rolled onto my side to let my eyes explore Josh as he slept. His face was half buried in the pillow. The relaxed planes of his face, the column of his neck, and the curve of one strong shoulder provided a glorious view. Looking at him made me happy. He made me happy. I smiled a very satisfied smile.
I wanted to do something for him this morning. Breakfast in bed? If there was anything to cook. I crept from the huge four-poster bed and slipped into my robe. I tiptoed down the hall and into the kitchen.
The large diamond glass panes filtered the light, bringing me up short as the splendor of the view caught my eye. I peered out the panes in awe. For such a gifted wordsmith, Josh hadn’t come close to summing up the vista.
Green? It was green—a brilliant rainbow of green hues. There were weeping willows, small sculpted bushes, and hedgerows surrounding the pond. The pond was flat, bouncing the greens back in subtly deeper hues. There was an old stone bench on the far side and a gardening shed that invited even a non-gardener like me. The forest and a possible orchard bordered that, a single path inviting further exploration. Flowering shrubs and trellis vines wrapped around the columns of the small pergola.
I was entranced, envisioning an elf or hobbit bounding out of the woods on some magical stag or unicorn. I could imagine the adventures young Josh and Helen had set out on in their younger years. I could imagine Will and Natalie doing the same.
I turned away, focusing on the task I’d set out with: breakfast in bed for my sleeping prince. Opening one cupboard, I found the china. In another a small supply of newly purchased groceries, including tea and a loaf of bread. I popped some bread in the toaster.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d stayed up late talking about nothing and everything. We’d climbed from the tub, shivering, and jumped into the bed to continue our question and answer session. There’d been no shortage of conversation. I didn’t remember falling asleep.
The kettle whistled and I finished making the tea. Humming softly, I carried the tray to the bedroom and pushed the door open with my toe. He sat up, bleary-eyed, in bed.
“I wanted to wake you up. You’re ruining my surprise.” I wrinkled my nose and stuck my tongue out at him.
“Sorry.” He smiled. “I was about to come looking for you.”
I handed him a cup and perched on the edge of the bed. “You’re forgiven.” I watched as he took a sip of his tea. “How is it?”
He took another sip. “Delicious.”
I smiled. He looked gorgeous with the morning sunlight filtering through the windows. His jaw was covered with dark stubble, his eyes hooded and amused. As my eyes traveled over his bare chest, my breathing grew a little unsteady.
I took a sip of my tea. His eyes were warm and heavy-lidded, his smile an invitation. I set my tea on the floor and climbed up next to him, burrowing into his side. “Last night was nice.”
“It was.” He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me closer.
I looked up at him, his lips distracting me and holding my attention. He smiled, his hand catching my chin. His thumb was soft against my jaw, tracing my lower lip while his slightly red-rimmed eyes regarded me intently. I felt a flush flood my cheeks as desire filled me, unexpected and undeniable. He looked delicious.
“You’re a very passionate woman,” he murmured huskily.
“Am I?” My voice was husky as I swallowed against the sudden tightness in my throat.
His hazel eyes slid to the neck of my blue silk robe. “You are.” He cleared his throat and tried to tease as he added, “It’s something I’ll have to accept, I suppose.”
I laughed, hitting him with a pillow. He grabbed the pillow and pulled me against him, his laughter fading as his eyes fell to my mouth.
I leaned forward and kissed him, my lips clinging to his as I wrapped my arms around him. I felt him pulling me to him and tangled my hands in his hair.
“Is this what I can expect for breakfast from now on?”
I spoke against his mouth, “If I’m feeling passionate.”
“Excellent.” His hand crept under the hem of my robe, tracing up my thigh to my hip.
My breath caught at the feel of his hands sliding over my skin. I felt the tremor of response shudder across my thigh as his hand came to rest on the curve of my rump. “I don’t know whether it’s that you’re so greatly affected when I touch you here or it’s due to its lovely curve, but I happen to be very fond of your arse.” His hands tightened on the object of his affection.
I pulled his face to mine again, kissing him deeply as his hands continued to travel. He pulled, encouraging me so that I ended up straddling him, my hands on his chest. “Are you sure you don’t want to finish your tea first?” I asked somewhat breathlessly.
“Very.” He kissed me, his hands and mouth silencing my doubts. “I’m at your mercy…” I felt his desire press against me. Heat roiled through me, heady in its weight. His hands were warm on my hips, lifting me.
&nbs
p; My chest tightened as he entered me, sliding deep. My hands pressed against his chest as I arched back to deepen his reach. He groaned, his hands tightening on my buttocks. It started gently, with no sense of urgency. On and on we went, each thrust stroking my nerves tighter and tauter around him. I lost myself to his touch, letting the feel of his hands, his smell, and his body take over.
When his release came, his voice broke as he called out my name. And I slipped over the edge, riding a brilliant wave of pleasure as pure sensation washed over every inch of my skin.
Minutes later, I lay gasping against his chest. My body quivered as little shocks of pleasure danced along my nerves. His hand moved slowly up and down my back, his breath ragged in my hair. “Would you like your tea now?” I whispered.
He shook his head. “Not yet. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” I smiled up at him, his smile widening in answer.
His hand cupped my cheek. “Yes, I know.”
“Does it bother you that I’m…”
“Vocal, passionate, uninhibited?” His eyes twinkled as he teased me.
“I was just going to say loud.”
“I don’t think I could explain how much I enjoy the sounds you make.”
“That’s a relief. I don’t think I could restrain myself.”
“I’d never want you to.” His arms were tight around me and he sighed. I closed my eyes, enjoying the soothing strokes up and down my back, his heartbeat against my cheek. If I stayed this way much longer, I’d fall back to sleep. It wasn’t a bad idea, since we’d spent the night talking. But I felt that each minute I had with him was something to cherish. I could sleep later.
He was humming softly. I recognized the song he’d played that first night, on the beach in California. “I like this song,” I murmured.
“It’s one of my favorites.”
I looked up at him. “If I stay here I’ll go back to sleep.”
“Is that a bad thing?” His crooked smile threatened my barely restored heart rate. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”
“You mean we could stay in bed all day?” My smile echoed his.
“Yes. I suppose we could have another bath if you like?” He laughed softly. “Find some food?”
Hollywood Ever After Page 20
