She leans in and plants a string of kisses over my cheek. “Take Eli to your mom’s. I’m begging you to come. You can see for yourself that I’m still your wife.”
There it is. She hit the nerve. Didn’t bother with Novocaine, just drilled right in and I’m so glad she did. Those were the words I’ve been craving all night and into the morning.
“I know.” I pull in close, bump our foreheads together and stay there. A flood of hot tears swell beneath my lids, they filter down and penetrate my shirt uninvited.
Lee knew what I needed to hear. She knew the exact words I needed to comfort me, and she gave them like a blessing.
“So, are you coming?” Lee doesn’t wait for a response, simply covers her mouth over mine and bathes me with a deep, sensual kiss.
“I’ll be with Eli,” I whisper. “I just need more time to wrap my head around this.”
A million years to be exact.
10
The Art of Love
Lee
The sun crests over the Townsend estate as I pull into the driveway. Mitch comes bounding down the stairs and hops into the passenger seat wearing a heart-stopping smile, and I take in a breath. A quiver runs through me at the sight of him, and now it seems like the worst idea in the world not to have brought Max along. I know if I pleaded just a little longer, he would have caved. Max would figure out a way to fly to the moon if I asked him to.
Mitch settles his eyes on me, sad and forlorn. “Nice car,” he says, securing the seatbelt. He doesn’t lean over and kiss me, just a platonic greeting as though he had somehow acquiesced to the fact I was married to his enemy. I don’t buy it, but I meet him on his terms.
“Thanks. I needed something bigger after Stella.” I stop short of adding, Max helped me get it.
“Yeah, I figured.” He nods uncomfortably. “I’m glad.” He tracks those jade green eyes I’ve dreamed of a thousand times, slowly over my features.
It’s awkward. I could never have imagined an awkward moment with Mitch, and now here we are experiencing it.
He glances in the back seat before reverting his sad gaze. “So where’s the family?”
My stomach clenches when he says it. There wasn’t the slightest hint of malice in his tone, but it felt sharp as acid in a rancid wound.
“Eli,” I whisper, shaking my head, “he’s not feeling good. Max stayed with him. Stella is in school—preschool.” I bite down on my lip to keep from bawling. Just the thought of all he’s missed is the knife in all this. “She’s so smart. She asks a million nonstop questions, and her vocabulary is out of this world for a girl her age. She’s just learning to read. She’s picking it up so quickly. Max and I think she’s a genius.”
Mitch winces when I say his name.
I try to focus in on the road as we navigate onto the highway. The evergreens skirt the inland route, but there’s nothing except clear blue ocean to the left.
“I don’t doubt she’s a genius. She gets that from you by the way.” He reaches over and squeezes my knee. An entire current of affection races up my leg, and it takes everything in me to keep from stopping the car and pulling his body over mine. I’m so thirsty to hold Mitch, I might pass out soon if I don’t drink him down. “How about Eli? I want to know about him, too.”
I blink a smile over at him and let out a sigh of relief. I was so worried it was Stella he wanted and would look through Eli as though he didn’t exist—turn him into an extension of his hatred for Max.
“Eli…” What can I say other than the fact he’s Max in a two-and-a-half-foot package? “He’s quiet—pensive.” I shrug. “He likes trucks, and boats, and dirt all on an unnatural level of course. He gives the world’s best hugs. You’ll have to see for yourself.”
“I can’t wait to see for myself.” He warms his hand over mine, and my stomach swims with elation, not only for his touch but for his willingness to accept an important part of my life.
Mitch is an all around better person than me. Had he gone off and married someone else—had a child with her—I don’t think I’d be as accommodating. I hated a girl in college once after I dreamed she was interested in Mitch. Hated her because of a stupid dream. And, here, Mitch is living anyone’s worst nightmare.
We drive for a short while in a cloud of silence, content with the echo of our breathing. Everything about this new reality holds all the strange nuances of a dream, like something that unfolded out of my imagination because I willed it to happen.
I pull into The Waffle Shoppe parking lot, but it’s full, and after three long revolutions I give up and park at the Mono Bay Hotel right next door. Bodies are teeming out of the restaurant, mostly men in three-piece suits, which is an anomaly for the place. We hop out, and I take up Mitch’s hand, rub his arm in an effort to let him know it’s okay for him to touch me—that I won’t break or recoil. In fact, I want it—demand it.
Mitch smiles and holds my gaze. “You look beautiful, Lee.”
I bite down over my lip and don’t say a word.
It’s cool as we step inside the establishment. Bodies are lined along the entry, and it’s becoming clear it’s going to take more than a little while to get seated.
“Two please,” I say to the hostess. She bows into me with a smile. Her powder blue bonnet covers her grey curls. They look like frail wires poking beneath her enormous hat.
“There’s a one-hour wait.” She frowns as she says it. “Big dental convention this week.” She nods toward the wall of suits to our left.
I’m hoping most of them will make a trip over to either Townsend or Shepherd, which will be great for business. Every time there’s a convention in town, we get a run of people.
I pull out my cell to warn Max to prepare for an onslaught, but drop it back in my purse like it were a snake on fire. The last thing I want is Mitch listening to me talk to Max about Townsend.
“Let’s hit someplace else.” Mitch wraps an arm around my waist as if to coax me to the door and something about it feels intimate, right.
“You can try the hotel,” the hostess offers. “They’ve got a great buffet, and you might get in quicker.”
Mitch and I don’t put up a fight. As much as I want to spend time with Mitch—the thought of huddling in the blazing sun for an hour as we wait for a seat might kill the magic of his first day back.
“This is a miracle,” I say as we walk back through the parking lot.
“This is better than a miracle, Lee.” Mitch brings my hand up to his lips and presses in a kiss. “I died every day without you, and now I can breathe again.”
“Mitch.” I wrap my arm around his waist and sniff hard to keep from weeping. “You’re heaven to me.”
We pause just shy of the entry, and I take him in, gaunt, a thinner, frailer version of himself, but he’s still there—so perfectly beautiful.
He ticks his head and leads us inside.
The hotel lobby is comprised of polished black granite, a gleaming brass sign points to the an expansive dining room chock full of what I can only assume are dentists. The decibel level alone rivals a jet engine as a steady roar of unintelligible voices circulates around the room like a static draft.
“We could drive to Creek Side,” I suggest. “There are tons of places there.” I’d sit in the car and hit a drive-thru if he wanted. All I really need to satiate me is Mitch.
“Can I help you?” The concierge calls from behind the thick granite counter. “Do you have reservations?”
I look to Mitch as a thought twitches through me.
“How many in your party?” He doesn’t bother to look up from the keyboard. He’s already scanning for an opening.
Mitch takes a breath, locks eyes with me, and lets out the slight impression of a smile. “We could order room service,” he suggests.
“And we’ll be able to hear each other better,” the words speed out of me.
It takes less than five minutes for the concierge to hand us a square plastic key, less than two minutes for Mitch
and I to ride the elevator up and find our room.
We don’t hesitate stepping inside.
The door closes behind us, encapsulating us in this private membrane, and all I can see is Mitch and his blessed-by-God face.
“So”—I take a step deeper into the room as if enticing Mitch into the mouth of a lion—“what do you want to order?” The words come from me far more sultry than anticipated. It’s so quiet here I can feel my primal yearnings begging for his attention.
“I’m not hungry.” He takes a step into me and picks up my hand, the curve of a barely-there smile playing on his lips.
“Neither am I.”
A rush of adrenaline surges through me and fills my ears like a heartbeat. Something in me reverts to autopilot, and I remove his shirt in one quick motion.
I take in a breath at the sight.
“Oh my, God,” it sails from my lips, quiet as a whisper.
Long jagged welts run over him like shredded rope embedded just beneath his flesh. I run my fingers lightly over one of the lines, tracking it from his stomach to his heart.
“What the hell did they do to you?” I can barely push the words out through the heartbreak.
Mitch doesn’t answer. He simply walks over to the windows and pulls the drapes closed, darkening the room to pitch.
He swoops back in, out of breath, wrapping his arms around my waist—and this time it feels anything but platonic.
“I missed you, Lee,” he says, taking my hands and guiding them over his back until I’m holding on for dear life.
Mitch brushes his lips against mine before pulling back, gauging me for my reaction. He offers a sad smile before dipping in again and covering my mouth with his. Mitch detonates with achingly slow, unwavering kisses. The universe starts up again. It’s as though it had stalled, and, now, with Mitch here, it was firing on all pistons—nothing but a cataclysmic echo of exploding stars, an entire meteor shower of sorrow and pleasure intertwined—a comet of lust with a tail as wide as the sea.
It feels like we’ve stepped into a time machine—easily this could be five years ago in the bedroom he built for the two of us.
He fumbles with the buttons on my blouse, and I don’t fight him. Mitch drops to his knees and looks up as if to venerate me. His fingers fall into the lip of my jeans, and he peels them off, watching with careful attention as if he didn’t want to miss a beat. He presses in a kiss over my bare stomach and I take in a breath. The long, hot tracks of his tongue incinerate me from the inside. It’s nothing but forfeit as Mitch pushes me back on the bed. It feels strangely familiar—like a memory playing out in real time.
Mitch lands on top of me, straddling me with his knees. The room glows like a candle with just enough light for me to see his beautiful face.
My fingers float to the scars on his chest. I can’t ignore the welts rising up all over his body. I’m so frightened for him, but I’m thankful he’s here. I’m glad God figured out a way to pull him out of my heart and land him miraculously in the western hemisphere. I’m so glad this fantasy has taken shape in flesh and bones, even if it is just one long dream. I glance down at him lost in his lust with his lips fused just below my belly. We both know this isn’t real. We both know he’s long since dead and things like this just don’t happen. It’s hard to know what’s up and what’s down, what’s real and what isn’t when you’re still trying to pick the pieces of your heart off the ground.
Mitch rises up my chest, my neck, with a trail of feather-soft kisses. I push all thoughts of this gargantuan puzzle out of my mind as he bears down at me with a look of relenting lust.
“Lee,” my name streams from his lips like a poem. Mitch meets me with his mouth, diving over me with a kiss that tastes like eternity branding itself from his soul to mine. “I’m going to love you,” he whispers, gliding down my body and burying a string of kisses over my stomach, trailing lower until he presses my knees apart.
A groan escapes my throat as he lands the hot of his mouth over the most intimate part of me, and a flare of heat spears through me. He moves his mouth in a steady intoxicating rhythm while kneading my thighs.
Mitch peels off his jeans and rises above me like a phoenix. He crashes his lips over mine and kisses me through a lust-driven smile. I open up for him like a flower—Mitch is the sun I’ve craved for so long. He pushes into me with a pronounced thrust, and a small cry escapes me that’s been building for the last five years. Mitch pushes in, deeper still and fills me with all of his carnal affection—a hard-won groan wrenches from his gut.
“God, I love you,” he pants hot into my ear.
“I love you, too, Mitch.”
There’s not another person in the universe who exists right now.
It’s just Mitch and me, lost in our love as his body moves in rhythm to mine.
But Max hovers over us like a ghost.
And, now, nothing will ever be the same.
Mitch
Breakfast turned into lunch, and that turned into dinner, and the only thing we feasted on was each other. All of those lonely nights, every carnal fantasy played out in one luscious exchange—making love to Lee—fucking Lee. The explosion of lust went on for hour after blissful hour.
Lee didn’t say more than two words as she drove me home. She blinked back tears at every turn, hoping I wouldn’t notice. I know she was thinking about Max, how much she hurt him with me of all people.
I wait until her taillights take off from my mother’s driveway before bolting upstairs. I can’t shake the feeling we just sneaked one in under the radar of parental supervision and it’s not right. What Lee and I shared should never feel dirty, illegal, sinful. It was pure and innocent, love at its best.
It doesn’t take long for me to gather the meager belongings my mother laid out on the bed and toss them into an old backpack I manage to excavate from the closet. Mom is already in bed asleep, so I leave a note on the kitchen table, I’m going home. Borrowed the truck.
I catch up to Lee before she crests the hill. I don’t think she realizes it’s me or that she’s being followed. She rides all the way up the driveway then hesitates before killing the engine. I get out of the car and meet up with her on the porch.
“Did I forget something?” She looks bewildered, far more animated than she did the last half hour.
“Just me.” I give a lopsided grin and hold up my backpack.
“Mitch.” Her mouth falls open, breathless. Her cheeks light up like a Christmas tree as if she’s unsure what to do with me, embarrassed by the entire exchange.
“You can’t stop me,” I say it low, filled with seduction. “Well, you could. But I don’t think you will.” I give the loose impression of a smile.
Lee fueled me—gave me the ammunition I need to dethrone Max off the king size bed upstairs. If it were anybody else—anyone in the entire world—I would have held back, thought twice about what happened today. But being with Lee, touching her that way, burrowing inside her and never wanting to leave, invigorated me. There’s no way in hell I’m rolling over for Max Shepherd, letting him run away with everything I worked for just because life decided to swallow me up in its asshole.
She spins the key in the lock and struggles to open the door before it swings wide, revealing a pissed-off Max on the other side.
She gives a nervous laugh and tries to conceal my backpack with her knee.
We’re met with a stone cold expression, nothing but raging hatred directed at yours truly.
“I’m so sorry.” Lee attempts to speed past him, but he catches her by the waist.
“Kids are asleep,” he says, reeling her into his chest. “It’s ten-thirty.” He’s examining her, waiting for an answer. “And what the hell is he doing here?”
I breeze past the two of them. “I’m home,” I say it mostly to myself. This is all so surreal. I’m not sure how to measure the depth of emotion just being in this place invokes in me. “Like the floor.” I’ll rip it out if he had anything to do with it. I h
ead to the kitchen. Everything is the same—same appliances, same L-shaped couch in the family room. I glance out the window. It’s too dark to see the water, but the slider door is open with the ocean breeze penetrating the air and every breath is so wonderfully sweet. It’s so good to be back, right here, in the house I built with my own two hands.
A hard shove comes from behind as Max spins me, turns the collar up on my shirt, and pulls me in.
“You want me to kill you? I will,” he pants. “I swear to God I won’t mind.”
I glance behind him for signs of Lee. A prattle of footsteps ignite from above, so I gather we’re alone at the moment.
“Relax.” I push him off and back up. “Lose the temper. Get comfortable. I’m here, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”
Max pauses. Drops his arms back to his side while examining me like a predator.
“Don’t do this,” he whispers. I like how he’s dipped his manipulation into the pathetic zone in hopes I’ll fall for the spare-the-children card. “Don’t bring this drama into my house with my kids. If you care at all about Stella or Lee, you’ll leave right now.”
“This is my house,” I correct. “My kids.” I’ll claim his son just as quick as he claimed my daughter. “My house. My family.” I drill a finger into his chest. “I built them both. Since you’re such a fucking bleeding heart when it comes to a family in crisis, why don’t you avert one by shacking up at the Mono Bay Hotel. Rumor has it, a room just opened up an hour ago.”
His jaw goes slack. I can see a fit of rage surging through him, then it leaves quick as it came. He’s calling my bluff. Max Shepherd won’t believe it for a moment.
He roots his feet to the floor. A minute of silence tracks by with nothing but cross-armed aggression spewing from him.
“This isn’t like you, Mitch.” You can see the fire in his eyes. You could light an entire solar system with the inferno brewing inside him. “I thought you were nice.” He spits it out like it was the world’s vilest expletive.
The Solitude of Passion Page 18
