Blue Moon

by J. A. Belfield

  When I straightened and turned, he didn’t speak, just beckoned with his finger and carried on along the length of the landing.

  Curiosity insisted I follow.

  The second door on the right concealed Nathan’s bedroom. He opened it and went in, and I paused before I followed, coming to a stop in the middle of the room.

  Nathan leaned close. “Remember this number.”

  My eyebrow lifted as I stared up at him.

  “One, nine, seven, two. Can you remember it without writing it down?”

  “Sure. What’s it for?”

  With another beckon of his fingers, Nathan pulled open his wardrobe doors. The gentle sliding of hangers made little noise as he parted the clothes to reveal a safe.

  I looked from the metal cube to him. “You’ve given me your safe combination?”

  He nodded, brought his arm around my shoulders and held me tucked into his side.

  “Why?”

  “Because you asked me for pictures of Beth,” he murmured. “And they’re all in there.”

  A small smile formed on my lips.

  “There are some in a folder,” he said. “And there are some in a box.”

  My fingers poked around his waist to hug him.

  “Do not take any out of the folder,” he continued. “The folder holds my personal favourites. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, grinning. “But I can take some from the box?”

  “Yes.” He rubbed his hand up and down my back. “Yes, you can have some from the box.”

  “Thank you.” I pushed up to lift me closer to his cheek.

  “I’m trusting you, Jem.”

  I urged myself higher. “I know.”

  “There are a lot of personal items in that safe,” he continued. “Including Beth’s address . . .” His eyes locked with mine. “So, I’m laying a lot of trust in you with this.”

  In other words, he trusted me not to scribble it onto a piece of paper the second I laid eyes on it and pass it onto his sons, neither of whom had the address.

  I gave him a smile of reassurance. “Okay.”

  Despite knowing I’d have an overwhelming urge to do exactly what Nathan didn’t want me to, I knew I couldn’t. The message that he’d never given his safe combination out before came through loud and clear. Under no circumstances would I let him down—especially when the trust had been placed as a result of a request I’d made.

  • • •

  Boredom from yet another action film toppled me into the land of nod. The second my brain acknowledged the scene, with myself as the leading role, I knew I’d entered the depths of a dream.

  For whatever reasons, my dreams weren’t like those of others. I didn’t observe from within my body, but as a ghostly spectator through my own point of view.

  As my subconscious took control, I watched myself and Sean bound about, his arms about my waist as I grasped his shoulders. Our laughter came freely, louder even than the music that spurred our actions, and I took delight in witnessing the expressive joy on our faces.

  As the small crowd of onlookers clapped their encouragement, we laughed, our eyes radiating a warm glow.

  Sean whirled my body round and round until my long, white dress swirled about my ankles. With each spin, I tightened my hold on him, and the fastenings of his white shirt loosened until his collar hung wide. The disarray of our attire appeared only to add to our delight as we laughed harder, and though dusk neared, the high colour of our cheeks still revealed itself in the waning light.

  As the energetic dance came to its conclusion, the watchers moved forward to join our fun, and Sean retook the waist of my dream self, lifting me high into the air. On lowering me, he held me close, sliding my body down his own.

  Buoyancy enveloped me as I watched the spiralling dance, intensifying until a strong sensation of floating dominated my mind. With each surge of weightlessness, I appeared to grow farther away, and the scene before me became the scene below.

  A roll of my body disturbed my flow. Another almost twisted me away.

  “Jem?”

  I blinked. The dimmed lighting appeared too bright to my sleep-heavy eyes. I closed them again.

  “Jem?” A soft shake of my body accompanied my spoken name.

  I blinked again …and again …until Sean’s face swam into focus. As my brain roused, and I spotted the wide grin spread across his lips, I realised my own face sported a smile. I couldn’t help the small snort of laughter that burst out.

  Sean chuckled. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. You sounded as though you were having fun.”

  I reached up for his smiling face. As I stroked along his jaw, he leaned into my touch.

  “I was going to carry you to bed.” His words told me I still lay on the huge sofa. “But, just as I went to, you started laughing.”

  Checking we had no company, I drew him down for a kiss, my lips already parted and ready as he met them.

  He pulled back a fraction. “And you were twitching like crazy.” Light danced in his eyes as he stared into me. “What were you dreaming about?”

  “I think it was part of our wedding.” I brushed my lips across his again. “We were dancing about like a couple of loons.”

  His chuckle rumbled across my chest. “It’s a good one.”

  Instinct kicked in, and our lips met. My tongue darted out as did his. Without moving away, his hands worked beneath me and lifted me to his lap, where his strong arms wound around to carry me. With my body clinging to his in return, we kissed our way up the stairs and into bed.

  • • •

  The approach of his footsteps told me when Josh finally came to me Wednesday lunchtime. They stopped in the doorway to the guest bedroom of the show apartment. I didn’t turn, simply continued my up and down arm sweeps, moving the roller across the wall. Having waited that long for him to see sense, I figured a few minutes longer wouldn’t kill me.

  He must have suspected my awareness of his presence. I knew he watched me, the heat of his stare all but set my back alight.

  Still, I didn’t turn.

  An unsubtle throat clearing broke my roll.

  With no more than a slight falter to my movements, I continued as though I hadn’t heard.

  “Jem?” His voice arrived low, his tenor deep—whether from his difficulty in approaching me or emotions, I didn’t know. Either way, he sounded off.

  My arm paused before I returned it to its downward journey.

  “Jem?” His tone didn’t alter other than to reflect a hint of urgency.

  The roller came to a standstill. My head tilted to the side.

  “About the other day . . .” Behind me, Josh drew in a deep breath, stepping closer. “Will you look at me?”

  To remain facing away took all of my will power. His voice, so brimmed with passion, urged me to turn to him and cross the gap.

  More footsteps brought him so near his breaths warmed my exposed shoulder. “Jem?” He took my arm. “Please …turn around.”

  I angled my head only far enough to peer at his fingers wrapped around my bicep. As their heat radiated onto my skin, I longed to respond, to lean into him. I’d missed his contact—the banter we shared. A few days weren’t a long time. Without my friend, they’d seemed an eternity.

  As I turned and raised my eyes to Josh’s, relief seeped into his.

  He released his hold of me, lifted his hands and raked fingers through his mess of hair before placing them on his hips. “Jem …about the other day . . .”

  I set my tools down on the window ledge and stalked off.

  He spun as I passed him. “Jem?” His confusion-filled voice echoed deeper than ever.

  I’d bided my time, waited for Josh to come to me, yet apprehension about my plan resounde
d in the silent prayer my mind sent out. Please let him follow. Please let him follow.

  No footsteps suggested he didn’t.

  I almost paused in the living room, thought about throwing as much pain as possible into my expression. It wouldn’t be faked. Josh had hurt me—even if he hadn’t acted under his own influence at the time.

  Teeth gritted against indecision, I kept walking, mental pleas continuing to murmur inside my mind. If he didn’t follow, my ego would be crushed, but I had no choice. Josh needed to figure out on his own how much our friendship meant to him.

  God, please let him want it enough.

  As I reached the apartment door, the scuffle of boots on concrete announced his pursuit.

  I blew out a breath.

  “Jem?”

  I rounded the corner, pushed against the heavy panel, and swung outside into the crisp air—wondering if Josh noticed I’d taken the same route he had when he’d turned his back on me.

  His long legs gave him the advantage, and he reached the entrance before the door had even clicked shut. “Wait!”

  Six more steps, a few metres covered, and Josh arrived right behind me.

  He grasped both my arms, pulling my body close against his own. “Please don’t do this.”

  In natural response, my head tilted as his murmured breaths seeped through my hair.

  “I’m so sorry. I—”

  “You’re asking me to listen to you, when you wouldn’t show me the same courtesy on Monday?”

  “I was an arse.” He blew out a gust, the force of it hitting my neck and sending my hair across my cheek. “I don’t know what came over me. I was just so mad at you, I couldn’t even think straight.”

  “You hurt me,” I whispered.

  “I know.” His arms wrapped around my upper body. “I’m sorry.”

  “I even made up with Marianne …for you. And still you blanked me.”

  His head brushed my cheek as he nodded. “I’ve been such an idiot.”

  “At least my apology to you sounded like I meant it. You didn’t mean it. You couldn’t have sounded any less sincere on Monday.”

  “I mean it now, Jem. I’m—”

  “How do I know this isn’t just another order from Nate? How do I—”

  “Are you even listening to me? Do I sound as though I don’t mean it?”

  A few seconds pause gave me a chance to peer around—spotting no observers didn’t mean our exchange was going unnoticed—before I gave a small head shake. “No.”

  His sigh hit my skin before he retook my shoulders and turned me to face him. His eyes searched mine, the green hue of them darkening with intensity. “Forgive me.”

  I studied him for a long moment and gave a slight nod of my head. “But if you ever—”

  “I promise,” he cut in as a smile pulled at his lips.

  My own mouth curved in response. The second it did, his arms slid around me, and my feet left the floor. His embrace drew me close until only Josh’s scent reached me, but a lift of my eyes showed Nathan by the apartment entrance.

  I suspected he’d been there awhile, confirmed by his nod and smile. I returned the expression and buried my face into Josh, lids lowering as I inhaled the aroma I’d missed out on for days.

  His arms tightened, nose nuzzling deep—enough to tickle.

  A small giggle escaped me, and I twisted my neck away, my eyes opening.

  To Marianne.

  I’d seen some cold glares in my time. None of them chilled like the one Marianne sent me. I met it with the brightest beam I could muster whilst clinging even tighter to Josh.

  Any decent person would have alerted him to her presence.

  I had no intention of playing nice.

  As my fingers brushed up to tangle in Josh’s hair, as my nose pushed deeper into the crook below his ear, as my sighs announced my contentment, my gaze remained on Marianne.

  For almost five minutes, she stood, her eyes icing over to Antarctic proportions, before Josh’s head lifted from my throat. As he inhaled, a flitter of surprise crossed his face, and he turned. With a quiet chuckle, he greeted her as though his nuzzling nose hadn’t caught up with the fact we had company. “Marianne.”

  Her rapid switch of persona took visible effort. “Josh, hi. I brought you your tea.” Her clawed fingers held out the silver thermos to him.

  As Josh stepped forward to take it, his insistent arms dragged me forward for the ride, and my lips twitched in pleasure at Marianne’s furious expression.

  Round five to me, witch.

  10

  I woke with a rested mind on Thursday morning despite the winter daylight putting in a dreary appearance. Beyond the window, pale grey clouds floated in an aimless fashion on the breeze.

  As soft breaths ruffled my hair, the slow, steady rhythm of a heartbeat against my spine and the shallow rise and fall of his chest told me Sean had yet to waken.

  With our bodies so close, his warmth embraced me as always, like a thick blanket there purely to provide comfort. I curved my back deeper into him. A wriggle of my hips adjusted my position until no hint of a gap remained between us.

  His heartbeat increased, his breathing altered. As his hold tightened, his erection pressed into me.

  “Hey, baby.” I reached behind and between us until I found him, stroked along his length.

  He all but purred, urging his hips forward. “’Morning, Jem.”

  I smiled, tilting my head until I could see him.

  Sean nuzzled my throat. “Plans today?” he murmured.

  As my fingers continued their massage, his lips suckled on the skin below my ear. “Shopping,” I breathed. “With Poppy.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He grabbed my hand when I tried to adjust it and urged me back down, his fingers encouraging me before he returned to his nuzzling. “Don’t stop.”

  With his warm breaths hitting me, his fingers, tongue, teeth exciting me, I caressed him until low moans left his lips and his body shuddered with pleasure.

  • • •

  As soon as the men left for work, leaving me alone for the first time all week, I pulled out my mobile and dialled Poppy’s number.

  “Hello?”

  “I’ll be a little late picking you up this morning.”

  “That’s okay, sweetie.”

  “I should be with you about eleven or so,” I said as I climbed the stairs.

  “Whenever works.”

  I opened the door to Nathan’s bedroom and stepped inside before heading straight across and pulling open the wardrobe doors. “And is there any chance you can bring your camera?” The hangers squeaked across the rail when I nudged them aside to reveal the safe. “I’ll explain why when I get there.”

  “Sure,” she said, her voice full of intrigue. “See you later.”

  I hung up, tucked my phone into my pocket and dropped to my knees. With a deep breath, I keyed in the combination and pressed the enter button, the green light flashing my success. As I reached for the safe door, the amount of trust Nathan had laid on me popped into my head and paused my action. Shaking it off, I yanked open the safe, stuck my hand inside and folded my fingers around the box and folder lying on top.

  Nathan may have said I couldn’t take any of the folder-bound pictures, but he hadn’t said I couldn’t look.

  I ignored the safe’s other contents and carried the photographs across the room. Nathan’s mattress lacked the firmness of ours as I climbed onto it and bounced beneath my crawling knees. Once settled, my eager fingers revealed the concealed.

  The folder held only a small collection of photographs, twenty, if that. I took out the first one and found myself face-to-face, for the first time, with the woman to whom I owed a great deal of gratitude—the woman who played a hu
ge role in Sean’s existence.

  Shuffling back nearer the window, I lifted the picture into the light.

  I knew Sean’s and Ethan’s eyes had to be from elsewhere as they didn’t match Nathan’s, but to see them peering out from the face of a woman—a woman I’d never met—jolted me. For sure, the two brothers replicated their dad in looks, but faced with their mother, the reason Sean’s features housed softer lines than the other Holloway men showed.

  Beth’s light brown hair cut in a chin-length bob suited her strong face. Her healthy complexion and deep eyes painted her as an attractive woman, in a handsome kind of way. If the picture gave any true indication as to the woman within, her stare matched her sons’ for intensity.

  I returned the image to the folder, took out a second. She didn’t stand alone in it—both she and a young Nathan grinned at the aimed lens, his arms wrapped around her from behind showing her height to be a couple of inches taller than my five-seven.

  I switched for the next picture, one with the two of them dressed for their wedding. It stirred something inside me to see the way Nathan looked at her. I’d seen that exact expression in Sean’s face whenever his sights set on me. The image radiated Nathan’s adoration for his wife, making it easier to understand his drastic decision to send her away when he thought it the only way to keep her safe. I realised, for the first time, how terrified he must have been to go to such lengths.

  After almost ten minutes perusing Nathan’s private shrine, I discovered two images of them sitting with a baby in Beth’s lap. I paused before lifting up the next picture. It showed an unmistakable, tiny Ethan beside them, looking down at another baby as though wondering how the being had joined the family.

  “Sean,” I whispered before a giggle burst out.

  With the proud parent pictures aside, I took the final three from the folder. As soon as I saw them, I recognised them as being far newer than the others. Nathan, in the one, looked no different than he had that morning; obviously, it had been taken since Beth’s departure. Had Nathan even bothered to show the latest editions to his sons?

  Sighing at the sadness of the whole situation, I turned my attention to the box. With a lot more pictures to get through, I pondered less over each until I reached further childhood ones: Ethan alone, Sean alone, the two of them together and with their mother, the entire family—the boy’s body changes at puberty easy to spot.