Diversions

by Leanne Davis

  Her mouth opened. He went there, now of all times? Trent. Always it came back to that: She’d done this with his brother. And he wasn’t about to let either of them forget it.

  She snatched her arm out from under him and sat up, her back to him. “There were plenty of others before you two, who were also great.”

  “Plenty? Somehow I doubt that.”

  “Why would you doubt that? You don’t know everything about me. I’m not as… prim as you have the impression I am.”

  He frowned. “Meaning?

  “Meaning, I wasn’t exactly new to all this.”

  He considered her. “Okay, maybe I shouldn’t dwell on the brother part.”

  “You think?”

  “It’s just been driving me crazy. You’re the girl who was sleeping with my brother, driving me crazy because suddenly I didn’t want you to be. Nor did I want to just hook up with you.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

  She didn’t relax her posture. “I hate when you bring everything back to Trent. I thought we agreed we’re past that.”

  “I know. But sometimes it’s too easy for me to remember.”

  “It’s not a contest.”

  “I won’t forget this time.”

  She let him pull her into his embrace.

  His hands reached around and rested innocently on her stomach. She noticed then that they were still naked and reached over to draw the bedspread back to cover up. He chuckled in her ear. “You’re a lot shyer than I thought you’d be.”

  “You don’t find one thing awkward about any of this?”

  “No. Look all you like.”

  She turned to meet his eye. “You get all flustered from talking to me, but you don’t find this at all a little embarrassing in broad daylight?”

  “I don’t get flustered,” he said, his tone implying that men just didn’t do that. “And this is great.”

  “You do too get flustered. And this isn’t as easy for me.”

  “I know. Other parts aren’t as easy for me.”

  He got up then and wandered into her bathroom, completely unconcerned with her view of his naked body. She pulled the sheet tighter to herself, knowing it would be a lot longer before she’d cross a sunlit bedroom naked in front of Jason. She also wondered, who was going to be right about them; her or him?

  She believed he liked her, was attracted her; all of which was obviously new for him. But she also saw how hard it was for him to be there, to stay there, and most of all, to forget she had potentially become his sister-in-law.

  ****

  She pulled into the back parking lot and started up the stairs when someone called her name. Bill was heading her way with something in his arms.

  “These were left on your steps, but I didn’t want them to die so I put them in my office, hope you don’t mind.”

  “No. Thanks.” She looked down and automatically reached out for the vase containing more red roses than she could count. She frowned and nearly stomped her foot. Why wouldn’t Trent let this go? How much clearer could she be that they were over?

  “You don’t look so happy to be getting these,” Bill said after she frowned at the bouquet.

  “I’m just tired of feeling guilty, and Trent just isn’t making things easier.”

  He turned his head and she caught a twinkle in his eye. “Those aren’t from Trent, they’re from Jason.”

  “What? You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  “I would never have guessed this.”

  Bill shifted from one foot to the other, then asked, “I know it isn’t any of my business, but did you and Jason work out your misunderstanding? He was really messed up over that stuff with Trent.”

  Christine smiled at Bill’s gruff concern. “Yes, we worked it out, and it does help hearing you say he didn’t mean it. He’s actually agreed to try dating.”

  “Well, I’ll be. That’s really good.” Then he paused and sighed. “He might be awful at it to start.”

  “I know.” Christine grinned.

  “I think, if you’ll give him enough time, he’ll treat you how you should be.”

  “I intend to find out.”

  He shook his head. “That’s real good. Don’t, ah...”

  “Mention this conversation to Jason? Believe me, I know that too.”

  “Yup, I think you’re going to be real good for him.” Bill winked and walked away.

  Christine took her flowers upstairs and set them on the counter. She snagged the card and opened it impatiently. It read, Thanks for the date.

  It wasn’t a love declaration, but from Jason, it was like a whole book written to her. He had sent her flowers... and a lot of them. She felt warm inside because she’d never hoped he’d do anything special for her. She couldn’t stop the flow of love for him that seeped through her as she held that card and smelled the roses. Maybe this would work.

  At this point it had to, because it was her heart on the line.

  ****

  On Thursday she looked out her window. Jason was in middle of washing her car. Surprised, she went out onto the landing and waited for him to look up at her. It was the first time she’d actually seen him since their date. And although she’d have preferred seeing him during the week she hadn’t pressed. She watched him leisurely for a minute. He looked up at her and she smiled, practically melting. Jason didn’t exactly beam at her but he did give her a sweet half-smile.

  “Hey,” she called.

  “Hey, yourself.”

  “What are you doing?” Obvious question, but sometimes asking the obvious was the best way to start a conversation with Jason.

  “Washing your car,” he called back, leaning down and scrubbing the tires.

  She rolled her eyes but he missed it. “You don’t have to do that.”

  He looked up at her as he sprayed the hose. “I know.”

  That seemed like a good sign. He just wanted to then? She smiled. She ran down the stairs and before he’d hardly stood up she put her arms around him. He, as usual, was surprised and hesitated, but at that moment she didn’t care if she was pushing him.

  “If I’d known it would get you this happy I’d have washed it sooner. It’s really not a big deal.”

  “It’s a really nice thing to do,” she said. She didn’t tell him that he was doing a very boyfriend-like gesture and that’s what made her so happy. She turned then and ran back up the stairs, knowing he couldn’t take too much all at once.

  She called over her shoulder, “By the way, tomorrow is Friday so I’ll be by your house at seven or so.”

  He tilted his head up to her. “What if I have plans?”

  “You don’t.”

  “You really are bossy, you know,” he grumbled, and she took it as a yes.

  ****

  It wasn’t hard to convince Jason to be with her after that weekend. He was interested in just about anything she suggested they do, as long as it ended at one of their places. Thus their time together was spent under close wraps. They spent each weekend at one or the other’s place. When the work week came around, Jason went back home, back to work, and back to waving at her as she jogged by. These days she stuck to cheerful waves, still enjoying the stares of the other mechanics and Jason’s obvious annoyance at it all.

  She had gathered by his comments that he thought by staying away during the weekdays he was somehow holding onto his single identity. He wasn’t ready yet to give himself over to the obvious conclusion: that they were in love with each other.

  She let him have his time to figure it out. She was almost amused at her ability to gauge when he’d call, when he’d ask to see her, and when he’d leave. She even could guess the rarer times when he’d come up after work.

  She gave him several weeks to get used to the fact that they were dating, keeping all conversation light and unthreatening. She was, however, getting sick of coddling his fragile commitment-phobic feelings. />
  Chapter Sixteen

  “How come you don’t talk about being in prison?”

  They were lying on her bed late at night, and there was a feeling of contentment between them. She liked the feeling a lot. And she was tired of not telling him so. She was walking a tightrope with him that she desperately wanted to reach the other side of.

  His relaxed posture suddenly went stiff and the hand that had been rubbing her back stopped. The tension in his body was physical. “I wish you’d forget that you know that about me.”

  “I think talking about it would help some of the anger you feel.”

  “No, it won’t.”

  “Why do you treat me as if I can’t understand it? I know your family, I know what happened to you. Why can’t you tell me how you feel about it?”

  He clenched his teeth, sucked in air, and then blew it out. “You don’t understand. You really don’t.”

  “So explain it to me.”

  “What do you think I feel? Happy? I feel like a hole is being eaten out of my stomach when I remember it. I feel like slamming a fist through the wall—or preferably my mother’s face—any time I think of it. Is that what you want to know? Now do you think you can empathize with me?”

  “Yes, if that’s what you feel. I want to help if I can.”

  “Why do you always feel this need to save me or help me? Since the very first time I met you, you’ve been trying to convince me I’m not who I think I am. I know who and what I am. Why can’t you see that? Accept that?”

  “Because you underestimate and undervalue yourself. Besides, someone has to help you, you don’t do anything to help yourself feel better.”

  “You want to help me? Yeah, sure, thanks, I feel just great now.”

  He pushed her away, swung his legs off the side of the bed, rested his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his hands over his face.

  “Talking about it with me might take some of the bitterness out of it that you feel.”

  “God, quit analyzing me.”

  She closed her mouth. She looked at his broad, slumped shoulders. Finally she said, “I’m not going to apologize. You think being with me is sex and fun. Well, sometimes relationships aren’t fun and games.”

  He got up without a glance as he walked towards the window, looking at the night. “You think any of my life has been fun and games? None of it has. Even being with you. You wanted to be with me. This is it.”

  “That’s nice. As if because I chose to be with you, you don’t have to do anything, say anything, make any effort whatsoever. You still have to work at this too.”

  “What do you think every day with you is? I work at it every God damn day we’re together.”

  She jerked back the covers that suddenly felt like they were suffocating her. “That was low, even for you.”

  “I didn’t mean because of you. I meant because this is not natural for me. Who have I ever been accountable to? No one. Not a parent, a teacher, a sibling, not even a damn dog; there’s been no one. Until you. And I’m trying, I really am.”

  “I know. But you can’t always shut me out. You have to talk to me.”

  “I do talk to you. All the time.”

  “Not about anything from your past. Not about your family or prison or even how you grew up. I know tidbits, that’s all. Wayward comments you throw out before you clam up.”

  “Why do you want to dwell on my screwed-up past? Isn’t it enough that I’m trying to be better? Trying to have a better life? Doesn’t being with you count as that?”

  “Yes. But I want to know more than just what your day was like. I want to understand you.”

  “What’s there to understand? You know me better than anyone ever has.”

  “No. I know what you let me know. What you want me to see. I know what I think you feel. What I think is correct about you. You don’t actually tell me.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Answer me.”

  “How are you going to understand? You have nothing in your past that comes close to anything in mine.”

  “It’s not a contest. It’s who we are. I can’t help that I come from a freakishly wealthy family any more than you can help being Irene’s son.”

  “Yeah? And how do I know you’re not going to take a good hard look at me and finally decide what everyone else is waiting for you to realize: that you’ve made a huge mistake, especially being here with me. You could be anywhere, with anyone. Instead you’re here. And you want me to tell you more sordid details about the things I’ve done, about being prison?”

  “They are not sordid details. They are your life. There’s nothing you can say that’s going to suddenly change my mind. What I did to Trent is not a pattern of mine. I’m not going to do it to you.”

  “Yeah. Sure. Because I’m the better catch.”

  She sighed. She got up and walked over to him, putting herself between the window and him, forcing him to look down at her.

  “You’re so much more to me than an ex-convict or Trent’s brother or Terry’s illegitimate son. I’m with you. I care about your past, not so I can judge you, but because I love you.”

  His eyes widened. He searched her face, apparently startled.

  “Don’t.”

  She smiled softly. “You know I do.”

  He raised his hands behind his ears as if about to be punched. He shook his head. “I can’t do this. This love and forever stuff. It’s not me.”

  “Quit pretending I’m just a friend you sleep with.”

  “Fine. You’re more than just a friend I sleep with.”

  She touched a hand to his face. “I’m not suddenly going to have a change of heart about you, about us, and walk out just because I learn things about you. You trust me that much, don’t you?”

  He turned his face from her. “What do you want me to say?”

  “The truth. I hope you will be kind enough to me to tell the truth about what it is you feel.”

  She looked up at his tightened jaw and eyes staring straight ahead, avoiding her gaze. She saw both the anger at her declaration and the vulnerability it stirred in him. He didn’t think she meant it.

  “Why me?”

  “Why you? What kind of question is that? I don’t know, it just happened. It just is. You don’t think I didn’t fight it? Being engaged to your brother wasn’t exactly my idea of how I wanted to start a relationship. But here we are. Can you at least tell me if you’re happy with me?”

  “Who is ever happy, Christine?”

  “I am. Being with you.”

  He sighed wearily as if her words put him into pain. “I know.”

  “You do?”

  He stared long and hard down at his feet. Finally he mumbled, “Yeah, I noticed that.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “Do I make you feel happy?”

  He hesitated. “You make me feel better.” He shifted around.

  “Do you believe me when I say I love you?”

  He shrugged again. “I guess. I don’t know. I mean, no one’s ever said it to me before.”

  She sucked in a breath. He hadn’t been told that he was loved before? She had no idea. Who wasn’t told as a kid how much they were loved and wanted? Was it any wonder Jason was so resistant to her? Their road together was a lot longer and more uphill than she had realized. “Well, I do mean it. I love you. Don’t push me away because of it.”

  “Maybe it’s just great sex.”

  “You’re really going to go there? Say that to me now?”

  “I’m just saying, lust can be a powerful thing, and you’ve been confused before.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Didn’t you tell Trent you loved him too?”

  She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly in a long, soul-weary sigh. “That I loved him? Yes.”

  “And now you know you were wrong?”

  “Yes,” she said, hating that he used Tre
nt against her. Would he ever get over the fact that when he met her she was engaged and with his brother, in every sense of the word?

  “Then how can you turn around and say it to me?”

  “I didn’t just turn around and say I love you. But now that I have, quit trying to argue me out of what I know I feel about you. And you can trust that I wouldn’t have turned my life upside-down if I wasn’t in love with you.”

  “I did tell you from the start, I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “You know what? I think you don’t want to do this. Sometimes I think you’ll make sure I leave.”

  “All things end.”

  She turned away from him. She couldn’t bear to see the look on his face. He believed that, to his core. And he believed it about her. She didn’t know how to fight it.

  He followed her to the bed and ended the conversation by pulling her forward and kissing her; she guessed to keep her from asking any more questions or making anymore declarations again. She let it pass for now. The words she wanted to say were now said. She believed that with time he’d get used to them, and figure out he felt the same about her.

  How had she ended up falling for a man who fundamentally couldn’t say he loved anyone? Because she knew in her heart he didn’t really believe love existed on any level. Between friends, parents, siblings, and certainly not between lovers. How could he when he’d never witnessed it? Or been on the receiving end of it? If he had ever loved anyone, they’d either not acknowledged it or used it to hurt him. Was it any wonder he guarded his heart and soul like a rabid dog?

  The question was, could she get past it before he tried to destroy them?

  ****

  The next morning Christine woke up to find a particularly beautiful fall day. She got out of bed and went to make some coffee. Jason was still sound asleep, now positioned in the middle of the bed completely sprawled out. She was surprised after last night’s proclamation of love that he had stayed.

  After she ate breakfast and had some coffee she finally heard him rustling around a little. She went to the doorway. He rolled over and stretched his arms over his head. She marveled at how thick with muscles his arms were, how broad and sculpted his chest was. His hair was tousled and he had stubble on his chin. Her heart rate picked up just looking at him groggy from a long, deep sleep. When he spotted her in the doorway watching him he smiled a simple, unguarded smile and for the first time she thought maybe they were possible.