He nodded. “Yeah, but we haven’t got the time.”
He started driving again, and Kaitlin felt a faint and curious prickling along her spine. They were passing the cemetery where members of both their families had been buried. Including Sean.
“You think the gates might still be open?” she asked.
He glanced at her sharply. Dusk was falling. He glanced at the car clock. “There’re about ten minutes left. Why?”
“Let’s go in.”
“Kaitlin—”
“Please, Brendan, I want to.”
He shrugged, then swung the car around the corner and through the gates. He drove as far as he could, then pulled the car up to the side of the road.
The cemetery was very quiet. There didn’t seem to be another soul there. To the left, the old slate tomb-stones that gave credence to the cemetery’s age rose against the twilight. Here, in the newer section, there was a multitude of beautiful twentieth-century stones. Praying angels, saints, obelisks, all kinds of memorials to loved ones who had passed from the world.
Kaitlin didn’t head for the bowing angel above the graves of her father’s parents and grandparents. She walked straight to the large statue of a beautiful Saint Theresa standing guard over the earthly remains of Sean O’Herlihy.
In the dusk, Saint Theresa seemed almost to live and breathe. And there was a gentle, curious smile on her lips that reminded Kaitlin of Sean.
Brendan was standing behind her, and he didn’t come any closer.
There were flowers on the grave.
“You’ve been here already,” she said.
“I’ve been here,” he told her. “But I didn’t bring the flowers. Someone in the family always brings flowers at this time every year.”
Kaitlin nodded, staring at the grave. Suddenly she wanted to cry as badly as she had all those years ago. What would have happened if Sean had lived? Would she and Brendan be celebrating more than a decade of marriage? Would there have been other children to replace the one they had lost? It was a mystery, buried deep within the earth with Sean O’Herlihy.
“We should go,” Brendan said, and she nodded. He led her from the grave and helped her into the car. And when they had moved into the traffic he asked her, “Why did you want to stop?”
“I don’t know.”
“Kaitlin, he’s been dead for twelve years.”
She glanced at him sharply. “Has he ever really died for you, Brendan?”
He frowned, catching her eyes in the rear view mirror. “I’ll never forget him, if that’s what you’re saying. He was my best friend. Any time you lose someone, a certain emptiness remains.”
She didn’t answer him, only looked out the window. Then she murmured softly, “He left us because he had no choice. But the emptiness was worse when you left me, too, because you didn’t have to go.”
He suddenly pulled the car onto the sidewalk.
“What are you talking about?” he demanded.
“Brendan, you’re on the damn sidewalk!”
“I don’t care! Answer me!”
“I was still there, Brendan. And you were still there. But you left me. You were gone. Sean didn’t leave on purpose. You did. You had a choice.”
“I didn’t leave.”
“You weren’t there.”
He leaned back against the seat and swore. “What the hell do you want from me, Kaitlin? I’ve said I was wrong. I’ve tried to explain. I know you understood. You were wonderful, you were quiet and supportive, and you just waited. And I hurt you. I’m sorry.” He swung around to face her. “Maybe I was even wrong later, when I caught you with another guy—”
“It was nothing!” she choked out furiously.
“I just said I was wrong!” he told her harshly. “But once we were married, I wasn’t the one to end it all with the clean stroke of a knife! What the hell was it? You didn’t get the wedding you wanted, so you decided you had to try again? I’m surprised you didn’t bargain for an annulment from the first. Then you could have had everything you wanted.”
Eyes burning, she turned toward him, telling him exactly what she thought he was, her hand suddenly flying. She didn’t slap his cheek only because he caught her wrist. And then she was in his arms again, his kiss searing her lips with a passion and fury and trembling vehemence more volatile than anything that had passed between them before. His lips and tongue tasted of his fury, his violence, of despair and of longing. The kiss spoke of time and of tears, and it seemed to shatter her heart.
He released her slowly, staring into her eyes. She felt a dampness on her cheeks, and she knew she was crying.
“Oh, Kaitlin,” he whispered.
He kissed her very lightly then, and drew out his handkerchief, dabbing at her mouth. “I cut your lip,” he said with regret. “I’m sorry, Kaitlin. Really.”
She shook her head, taking the handkerchief as he revved the motor and eased the car into traffic. Darkness surrounded them, and the streetlights played across his features. Kaitlin wiped her cheeks and dabbed at her lips, and her heart suddenly ached as she watched him. She wondered if she had ever felt closer to him than she did at that moment, and she wondered how that could be.
Swallowing her pride and the pain that had built up over the years, she moved closer, laying her hand gently on his thigh. “I didn’t really want a divorce, Brendan,” she said in rush. “It was just that when I lost the baby, I was so hurt and so alone, and I wanted you so badly. And you didn’t come—”
“I couldn’t come! I didn’t even know at first!”
“I know that now,” she said. “But then, even when you were with me, you were still living in your own world. Brendan, I wanted you to protest. I wanted you to fight me. I wanted you to mourn Sean and our baby. I just wanted you to realize that we were both still alive!”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then he held the steering wheel with his left hand, and his right hand curved over hers.
Then they were at the restaurant, and he was swinging into the parking lot. He found a spot for the car and turned off the engine, then turned to her. He took the handkerchief from her and dabbed at her lip. “Damn, it looks like I gave you a good one to the jaw.”
She laughed. “It can’t be that bad. Oh, well, we’ll chalk it all up to that Irish temper of yours.”
“My Irish temper!”
She smiled, and so did he, but then his smile faded. “I gave you the divorce because I thought that it was what you wanted,” he said. “How could I protest when everything had gone so badly?”
She shook her head, afraid she would start crying all over again.
“All those years,” he murmured. “Kaitlin, I—”
She never knew what he had intended to say, because there was a tap at his window. They both started and turned their heads. Kaitlin’s cousin Patrick was standing there, smiling. “Hey, you guys coming in or what?”
He walked around to open Kaitlin’s door. “Patrick!” she murmured with forced enthusiasm. Patrick was great—she loved him. But she wondered why he’d had to show up at that exact moment. Still, she got out and gave him a big hug.
Brendan was out of the car, too, and beside them both, greeting Patrick. Then the three of them walked into the restaurant together.
It was a wonderful party. More than wonderful. Donna and Bill looked so happy together. Brendan gave the groom a great speech, and Donna received all sorts of beautiful things. Both families were there; the meal was delicious, and the band Brendan had hired played a range of songs that appealed to every age group.
They didn’t leave until nearly 2:00 a.m. Donna and Bill stayed to the last, thanking them both profusely.
“It wasn’t anything,” Brendan told Donna.
“Yes, it was,” Donna insisted. “It was wonderful. I just wish you two didn’t have to lay out quite so much—”
“Honestly, it was nothing. Kaitlin has a new business,” Brendan told her solemnly.
“Brendan’s in
on it, too,” Kaitlin said sweetly. She explained about the commercial, then wished she hadn’t. Now everyone in the world was going to be looking for it. She’d never hear the end of it from her relatives.
Donna went on and on, but finally she and Bill left, and Kaitlin and Brendan walked to his rental car. She leaned her head back as soon as she touched the seat. She was exhausted, drained.
He drove to the motel in silence, then escorted her up to her room. When she stopped by the door, he paused, then kissed her lips gently. She waited, tired, but growing flushed with excitement. He was going to stay, she thought. He would come in with her, and they would make love.
But he only told her good night very softly, then turned and walked away.
Kaitlin carefully disrobed and hung up her dress, then slipped into a soft flannel gown. Then she lay down and tried to sleep, but suddenly she felt the dampness on her cheeks, silent tears again, tears for all they had shared, all they had lost.
The love had never died. They had just thrown it away.
Perhaps everything was out in the open between them now. But could anything they said make it right now? Or had too much time passed, too many years? Could they ever rectify the past?
She lay awake for a long time, but exhaustion finally claimed her.
She was awakened very early by a pounding on her door. She hadn’t even blinked enough to be coherent, but she bounded out of bed and threw open the door.
It was Brendan. An irritated Brendan. “Look at you, Kaitlin. Barely dressed, just throwing that door wide open. Hell, I could have been anyone. A burglar, a rapist!”
She stared at him blankly. “It’s nice to see you, too, Brendan.”
“Kaitlin, I’d just rather you didn’t get yourself killed.”
She nodded. “Sure.” She shook her head. “Excuse me for a moment, will you?”
“Briefly,” he warned her.
She shut herself into the bathroom and doused her head in cold water, then scrubbed her teeth. She felt lucid again.
When she walked out of the bathroom, she didn’t see him at first, and she thought he had left.
Then he called her name softly. “Kaitlin.”
She whirled and stared at him, stunned for a moment; then her lips slowly curved into a smile.
He was stretched out on her bed, stark naked. It could have been a calendar pose if it hadn’t looked so natural. He was glorious and tempting beyond all measure, leaning on one elbow, his head resting on his hand, watching her. One ebony lock fell with a slightly rakish air over his forehead, and his green eyes were gleaming, the gold specks seeming to catch the morning sun. He was all bronze muscle, the thick thatch of dark hair on his chest immensely inviting. And below that…his intent was certainly visible.
“Come here,” he said, patting the bed.
“What the hell are you doing?” she whispered.
“You’ll have a good time, I promise,” he told her with absolute confidence.
She still hadn’t moved, so he did. He rose and walked over to her, and deftly began to undo the tiny buttons on her flannel gown. She still didn’t make a move, but she allowed him to strip her, paradoxically feeling both lethargy and excitement sweep through her as the gown fell to the floor. He moved behind her, and she felt his naked body brushing her back and buttocks. His hands curled around her breasts, and his lips brushed heat and fire against her ear as his tongue dampened her flesh in small circles. He swept her hair aside, and his kiss moved down the length of her spine. She turned in his arms, choking as the sensations of sweet fire claimed her. His tongue dipped into her navel and flicked along her belly. Unable to stand any longer, she knelt before him and caught his lips in a fierce and hungry kiss.
He meant to sweep her into his arms, to carry her over to the endless soft expanse of the bed. To make love to her there. But her lips were on his, her fingers moving over his back, stroking, while their tongues met and mated in an age-old rhythm. And she was there, beneath his hands. So he touched her. He teased her legs apart and feathered his fingers over the juncture of her thighs, then teased the bud of her desire and probed deeply into the heart of her sexuality. Her soft cries aroused him to a frenzy, and it seemed that her hands were beautifully, miraculously everywhere. On his shoulders, taunting his buttocks, curling around the very life and strength and force of him. Touching him, stroking him, until he thought he would die if he didn’t take her soon.
He laid her on the thick carpet and wedged her legs apart, convinced—in his heart, in his mind, in his hunger—that she could never forget this morning. And then he had her with the force of his kiss and his tongue, parting her fiercely, tasting her endlessly. Ignoring her cries and her pleas, and taking an ever-increasing pleasure in the wild undulations of her body as he forced a searing burst of ecstasy upon her, tasting the response of her body to his hunger and demand.
He did not let her drift down, but wrapped her in his embrace and cried out hoarsely, plunging the need of his body into the promise of hers, shaking as she gloved him with warmth and fire and liquid heat. Tender, violent, he rode out his desire. Felt her move, her legs locking around his back, and breathed out words of passion, burying his face against her throat, then his lips against her breast. He felt her stiffen, heard her cry, and knew the sweet liquid flooding around him once again. And he sank into her, shuddering, climaxing, and praying that he could fill her with the love that had been lost to them both for so long.
He closed his eyes and held her.
Then, slowly, they both became aware of the hum of the air conditioner and movement in the hall outside the door. The world was awakening.
He turned to look at her. At the blue beauty of her eyes, at the sheen of perspiration covering her, the damp strawberry-blond locks tangling over her breasts and cheeks. He moved her hair, smiling. “What is it that you have against beds, Kaitlin?”
“Me!” she protested.
He stared at her, loving her, and kissed her lips again, very slowly. “I’d want you anywhere,” he told her. “Anywhere at all.”
Then, to Kaitlin’s amazement, he rose and stretched a hand to her, still grinning. “Although it would be nice to try a bed next time.” His smile eased, and his eyes searched hers. “If there is a next time,” he said softly.
He turned and walked into her shower. Stunned, she listened as the water started. She walked to the bathroom door.
“What do you think you’re doing, Brendan?” she asked, and tried the door. It was locked.
He was quick, though, emerging moments later, toweling himself strenuously. He paused to lightly kiss her lips, then dressed. “I’m going home, Kaitlin. I fly out in about two hours. I’ve got to get back to Boston.”
She felt her temper soaring. “Nice of you to stop by,” she told him.
He reached for the coverlet, wrapping it around her shoulders. She tried to wrench away from him, but she couldn’t. He laughed easily, still holding her.
“Brendan—”
His finger fell across her lips. “I told you yesterday, Kaitlin. I know what I want. You don’t. So think about it. Take your time. Neither of us can undo all the things we did before. We’ve thrown away years of our lives. Let’s not do it again.”
“Brendan, I—”
“I don’t want you to say anything. Think about it. I’m going to go home and go to work. I’ll see you at Donna and Bill’s wedding. And when I see you again, I want an answer!”
Then he was gone, and she was left to stare after him, dressed only in the coverlet.
“An answer to what, Brendan?” she shouted.
She sank down on the bed, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“An answer to what, Brendan?” she repeated softly. “An answer to what?”
Chapter 10
Nearly four weeks later, Kaitlin was again in Massachusetts.
She’d gone home, gone to work, had a very traditional all-girl shower for her cousin Barbara. And she and Barbara had ordered f
lowers, checked on the menu and listened to bands. They’d run around looking for favors for the reception table, and they’d made a very elegant little box where gifts of money could be safely left.
They’d survived a few rough spots, like the reception hall sending out a warning that it might file for bankruptcy before Barbara’s wedding. Barbara had called, hysterical, and she and Kaitlin had hurried to the hall, only to be assured that things had already changed, that new money had been invested in the business, and everything would be perfect.
Kaitlin didn’t see Brendan. Brendan told her that he and Bill and some others were going to be taking off for a special one-night cruise to Freeport and back. Later she heard that they had gone, but that the hotel had been overbooked, and they’d had to wait until nearly 2:00 a.m. to get rooms, and one room had been filled with bedbugs.
She hoped it had been Brendan’s room. He deserved bedbugs.
But Joe laughed when she asked him about it, and told her that despite their problems, they’d all had the time of their lives.
And still she didn’t hear from Brendan.
Before she knew it, it was time to leave for Donna’s wedding.
There was plenty to do when she arrived in Auburn. She and Donna covered what seemed like half of Massachusetts in a matter of days. They drove to one small town for the special ribbons Donna wanted on the flowers, then to another to deliver the ribbons. They picked up the elegant party favors that Donna and Patrick and his wife had painstakingly been making for weeks, then they brought them to the hall. They went for the last fitting on the gowns and agreed to pick them up at ten o’clock on the day of the wedding.
“We’ll bring them all to my mother’s house and get dressed there,” Donna said. “Bill and the guys can dress at his house.”
Finally the day of the rehearsal dinner arrived.
Tremors had set into Kaitlin with the sure knowledge that she would see Brendan that night. She had chosen her dress with care for that very reason. It was sheer black satin and covered her from neck to knee, but it fit her so closely that it was one of the sexiest things she had ever seen.
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