Always Box Set

by Ward, Susan

  I moved in her arms only enough to look at her. “You know everything, don’t you?”

  She nodded, her mouth tightening in sympathy. “I know Chrissie burns herself, and about her being in the room with her brother when he died, and about her thinking you hate her. I told you things were moving fast and I could barely keep up.”

  She dropped one more kiss on my lips, took my hand, and guided me into the room.

  We sat on a couch, holding onto each other.

  “I also know you helped Alan. I admit I was angry when I found out because you hadn’t told me. But I understand why you didn’t, just like you’re going to need to understand why I didn’t call you when I finally figured out Alan’s Chrissie was your daughter.”

  Alan’s Chrissie—that one made me flinch.

  No fucking way.

  Not ever.

  I turned enough to face her. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair as though trying to figure out how to explain it. “I got dropped into the middle of what was going on with them unexpectedly. It knocked me off my feet for a while. I could sense something was going on with her, but I didn’t know what, and then”—she made a face—“when I did, I realized for a little while her being with a woman might be better than with a man. Complex girl issues. Tough even for me.”

  I laughed through my tears. “Nothing is tough for you.”

  Her head tilted and her eyebrows shot up. “You’re tough for me. Though I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”

  Her dazzling smile brought more lightness to my mood.

  Then I remembered where I left Chrissie.

  I leaned my head back on the couch and groaned. “Fuck, I can’t believe my daughter is spending the night with Alan Manzone and I let her.”

  Linda curled into my side. “You didn’t let her. She’s eighteen. She can do what she wants. It was the smart move. She’s going back to California with you, isn’t she?”

  “Yep. Tomorrow.” I sighed again. “After Chrissie helps me box up Lena’s clothes and stuff here. She thinks it’s time to put her mom’s things away”—I started to cry again—“and she wants to do the Santa Barbara house when we get home. That’s what she said. I haven’t even had time to process that one yet.”

  “Aha,” was all Linda replied.

  I looked up at her. “What does aha mean?”

  “That your daughter is a smart girl, even as fucked up as everything has gotten of late, and she’s going to be fine.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because boxing up Lena’s things is about her taking care of you. Telling you to move on so she can move on with her life.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  She shrugged and looked away.

  That definitely meant something.

  I turned her back toward me, and I could see it on her face. “You think Lena’s things are still everywhere because I can’t let go. That isn’t true, Linda. I kept things as they were so Chrissie would feel her mother in the house still. I moved on when I met you.”

  Those soulful eyes squared with mine. “No, Jack. You kept everything exactly as it was because you wanted to still feel Lena. Why do you think I never stay with you in Santa Barbara or this apartment, why we always see each other somewhere else? Every time I’m in a home of yours it feels like I’m invading another woman’s territory.”

  “You’re not,” I told her, pulling her tightly against me. “You’re the woman in my life, Linda. What do I have to do to get you to understand that?”

  She pressed her cheek against my chest. “Meeting Chrissie was a good start. But I’m not sure if any of us is ready for more. Not yet.”

  Forty-Eight

  Six years later, Linda still thought we weren’t ready to be more than an affair, but I’d given up on the idea of what I thought we should be and I’d definitely given up on the idea of trying to change her.

  Only a foolish man would try to change a miraculous woman. Linda effortlessly managed a life four people couldn’t do—a demanding career hopping the globe with Blackpoll; holding that complex assortment of brilliant musicians, which included Alan Manzone, together; a husband/friend who really needed a strong, loyal woman to keep him on track and from self-destructing—and hell, she managed me, too.

  Yes, it bothered me she was still married to Len Rowan after fifteen years. But Linda was an unconventional woman—I’d known that from the day I met her—in her center uncomplicatedly practical, and this was how her life worked. Loyalty and love walked hand in hand, unbreakable, with who Linda was.

  She loved Len like family, she wouldn’t walk out on him as long as he needed her, and I could take it or leave, so I took it.

  Unconventional—yes.

  Did Len Rowan know about us? From the start, Linda was an inherently honest woman.

  Did anyone else in our lives know about us? Somehow they didn’t. We were the best kept secret in the music industry.

  Was our relationship everything I wanted? No.

  But age teaches you things you can’t see when you are young. It didn’t matter if my life was exactly how I thought it should be or hoped it would be or even made sense to anyone else. My life was good, we were happy, and I’d take that over everything else any day of the week.

  No man had everything he wanted. The man who usually tried ended with nothing, a lesson I’d learned in spades with Lena before I found the wisdom of focusing on only loving, and I had enough with Linda how we were.

  I’d also take looking up from the beach to find her standing on the cliffs, having blown in from somewhere without warning, over waking up every morning to face a woman I could never hope to love the way I did Linda.

  Christ, sixteen years and she still got my blood pumping.

  It was a bright September morning as I trotted up the stairs built into the cliffs after being surprised when I looked up from my board in the water to find my favorite sight. I didn’t know where Linda came from this time. I didn’t even know she was coming.

  “Oh, Jesus, you’ve saved my life again,” I growled, flattening her against my damp wetsuit and crashing my mouth onto hers.

  “Gnarly waves?” she teased between the play of her lips.

  I pulled back, holding her in a heated gaze. “No. Gnarly Jack. You’ve been on the road forever, baby.”

  She scrunched up her face. “Three months. Total nightmare or I would have hopped to you sooner.”

  I did a playful bite on her neck, then kissed. “I hope you’re ready to hop.”

  She laughed, a deep husky purr. “Oh yeah, definitely. How long will it take you to strip out of that thing?”

  We went straight into my bedroom through the yard doors. We had a deliciously perfect ritual: fast fuck, hours in bed holding each other to catch up on each other’s lives, followed by leisurely lovemaking and then the gentle easing into our life together for a few days, weeks, or whatever.

  I set her on the bed, and between kisses and touches I fought to pull off the too-snug neoprene which had grown painfully tight in my groin area.

  “You got your diaphragm in? I’m not waiting.”

  Her eyes roamed me in a seductive glide as she took her case from her purse, removed her pants then panties, and prepped and inserted all while continuing to heat up my body.

  She paused to remove her blouse and shoved off my wetsuit, kicking it aside.

  “Fuck, Jack, did you take a blue pill?” Linda teased after her head appeared from pulling off her shirt to find me standing fully ready for her.

  I ignored her playful jab over my age and covered her body with mine. “No blue pill. Blue balls.”

  Her head tilted back on the pillow as she laughed harder. “God, you are a crazy man, and you definitely have the worst sex lines with a woman ever. Was that supposed to get me hot?”

  “Nope, just me in you fast.” I moaned and plunged
deeply within her. Her arms and legs wrapped around me as I pulled out slowly and sank myself into the delicious feel of her.

  I shuddered, stilled, and brought my mouth back to hers. She arched her neck so I could kiss my way down how she liked it.

  Another slow, torturing move.

  She gasped and brought her hips up to mine, digging her heels into my ass in silent urging to go fast and rough in her.

  I eased out until only my tip was in her as I ran my tongue around a nipple. Her nails dug into my shoulders.

  “If you don’t do it hard—” She moaned as I sucked on a rosy tip, rolling it with my tongue. “If you make me wait”—I buried myself as deeply as I could into her—“I may hurt you. Linda is very ready for Jack. No play. I can’t take it.”

  I thrust into her then stopped, propping myself on my elbows to look down at her flushed face. “Then take me how you want, Linda.”

  With graceful ease, she flipped us on the bed until I was under her and she was riding. I lay back, watching her plunge over and over on me, the sway of her head, the parted lips, the heat rolling off her flesh, drinking in the sight of her unbridled and demanding and loving.

  She brought her breast to my mouth and my arm went around her waist, clutching her tighter to my starving body.

  Her hips were grinding savagely.

  My cock swelled and throbbed.

  “Oh, Jack, watch what you do to me,” she whispered, and as she let go in her loud, throaty screams I couldn’t take another second without coming inside her.

  “Oh fuck, Linda,” I growled, as her body continued to fuel my climax.

  Even after coming it didn’t feel like enough.

  I wasn’t ready to pull my body from hers.

  She collapsed on my chest, her hands running my arms tenderly.

  She peeked up at me. “What a pitiful pair we are.”

  I laughed. “Hell no. Just two people hot for each other and not getting enough.” I kissed her forehead. “How long are you staying this time?”

  Her cheek moved as a caress against my flesh. “Dunno. Does it matter?”

  I eased her off me and into my arms. “No. Doesn’t matter.”

  We lay silently together for a while, then she lifted her face, eyes widening. “You’ve changed the bedroom. I like it.”

  I brushed her short curls from her face. “Just painted. Nothing major.”

  The major thing happened after that disastrous trek to New York to drag Chrissie back home from Alan, when my daughter had made me put away Lena’s things here. It was when Linda starting staying with me in Santa Barbara. It was also the year Chrissie went off to Berkeley. I’m sure both events had something to do with Linda feeling more comfortable about us existing here.

  We definitely existed more regularly when schedules allowed since Chrissie got married last year to Neil Stanton, the hot new thing in the music industry, and was living on the mountain above me—the name Maris worked because my daughter had no intention of ever leaving Santa Barbara—and expecting their first baby.

  There was change all around us.

  Jesus Christ, in less than four months I’d be a grandfather—that made me grin—and I was carrying on like a teenage boy, burning and heavy with Linda still.

  I studied her beautiful face tucked into my side. Even the faint lines around her mouth and at the edges of her eyes were gorgeous on her. She was finally old enough for me—thirty-five—stunning, exciting, interesting, fully self-possessed…and not sagging. She still had a fucking body that wouldn’t quit.

  I fought back my laughter then decided I had to hide it with a smile or I’d get shit for that last thought if she demanded I tell her what I’d been thinking.

  “I want to do something with this house. I don’t know what. Why don’t you decide for me?”

  She settled back comfortably against me. “I like it how it is. It’s like coming home every time I get here. Why change it?”

  Home—I liked that thought from her.

  “Then we’ll keep it as it is. OK, news. Do you want to go first or do you want me to?”

  She studied me for a moment, gnawing on her lip. “Aha. Something tells me you should go first. You have that Jack worried and thinking about something expression.”

  Damn.

  “I’ve got a little problem right up your alley. Chrissie’s mother-in-law is throwing a baby shower and that manager of Neil’s, Ernie Levine, is trying to turn it into a publicity op for the label.”

  She crinkled her nose. “Oh yuck.”

  “You know how Chrissie gets about being around a lot of people and the press thing. She shouldn’t be stressed out, and I’m worried things are getting out of hand.”

  “Call Neil. Tell him to stop it. He’s her husband. He should fix this.”

  “You’d think. So far nothing. I thought you could work that magic you do and take over managing this.”

  She groaned and hid her face. “I haven’t even been invited, Jack. Don’t you think it will come off random me just barging in and taking over everything?”

  I shrugged. “Probably, but think about it, sweetheart. I want this nice for Chrissie.”

  She gave me the Chrissie, Chrissie, Chrissie look and then exhaled loudly.

  “You worry too much,” she chided. “Everything is marvelous in your daughter’s life. She has it all. Beautiful house. Beautiful husband. Soon, no doubt, beautiful baby. When are you going to stop worrying about your girl? Chrissie doesn’t need you rushing to fix her mess anymore. She doesn’t have any mess. She’s doing great.”

  I lifted her chin. “I’ll never stop worrying. That’s how it works, Linda. Parenthood is a life sentence.”

  She laughed, but it was sort of a snort. “You don’t make it sound appealing.”

  “I love my daughter, but I wouldn’t do it again for anything in the world.”

  Her face clouded over. “Really? That bad.”

  “Not bad. Just work. I’m ready to work less and love my woman more.”

  I felt a prick of unease when she didn’t laugh, and put her face back against me so I couldn’t see her expression.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m just trying to figure out how to crash a baby shower, hijack it, and then fix it without letting your daughter know why I’m doing it.” She moved out of my arms. “I’m going to hop in the shower. Take a quick one. I’ve been traveling all day.”

  I stopped her with my hand. “Nothing wrong, huh? Not buying it, Linda. Why are you upset?”

  “I’m not.”

  She shrugged, disappeared into the bathroom, took a fast shower, and came back wrapped in a towel.

  I could tell by her expression she had something she wanted to discuss. She sank down on the bed facing me. “I’ve been kind of thinking, as I’m off the road for a year, maybe I’d hang around here for a few months or so and try to make a baby with you the old-fashioned way since that fucking adoption lawyer has had me on a list forever.”

  I sat up, shaking my head. “We’ve talked about this, Linda.”

  “Well, I want to talk about it again, Jack. I’m thirty-five and running out of time here. Even if you were cool with me fucking Len, which I know you’re not, Len’s no use to me in that department. Damn man got cut. I want to have a child of my own. You’re the man I love. Why can’t you understand that?”

  “I do understand it, Linda. I just can’t go through it again. Haven’t I fucked up enough kids already?”

  “You’re a wonderful father,” she said in a rush when I paused to take a breath. “I couldn’t ask for better.”

  Fuck, she wasn’t letting up on it this time.

  “Are you asking me to donate to the cause or will you finally divorce Len and move in here?”

  Her gaze locked on me like a laser.

  “I would if that’s what it took to get you to stop being stubborn about this.”

  “This turnin
g thirty-five and the baby thing is making you completely irrational. My question was rhetorical. We both know the true answer. You wouldn’t walk out on your life, you’ve worked too hard to get where you are, and I don’t expect you to give up the things you’ve earned for me. You like your life how it is. In the fast lane, moving fast. I don’t do that. Those days are behind me. Nothing would change between us, we both know that—and stop puffing up for a fight, because I’m good with how we are—and I don’t want another child, definitely not a part-time child out there since I’m confident you’re going to stay part time with me, too. Nope, can’t do it.”

  “Great,” she said, her features tightening. “Len is no use. You’re no use. And I have an adoption lawyer who’s no use as well. Promise me just to think about it, Jack.”

  The way she stared at me made my gut twist because she wanted something from me she could never get.

  I sighed heavily, pulled her resisting body into my arms, and kissed her shiny black curls. “There’s no point in arguing about this, sweetheart. I really am no use to you, Linda, and even if I wanted to I couldn’t change that. It’s why I told you the list was your best option.”

  Her face snapped up in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

  Fuck.

  “In fifteen years of marriage, Lena and I spent most of it trying to have a baby and the only one we had is Chrissie. I’m pretty sure I was the problem.”

  “Maybe you’re not,” she countered fiercely. “We haven’t even tried.”

  “No point trying, Linda. Stay on the adoption list. My swimmers don’t swim well.”

  “We can try,” she repeated.

  Fuck. “Fine. Try, and if you get pregnant we’ll figure out then what changes we should make about us.”

  She threw her arms around me and kissed me hungrily on the mouth. I felt like a shit, because I’d told her what she wanted to hear to get out of the argument, figuring there was no risk in letting her because I knew it wasn’t going to happen.

  “I’m excited,” she announced. “When’s Chrissie’s baby shower?”

  She was glowing and had that take-charge manner of hers head to toe. Well, I was getting something out of this. Maybe relenting wasn’t a bad thing.