Upend Lucy’s weekend, her working relationship with David, and pull the plug on my feature and the promotion?
I swallowed.
“He . . . David had an emergency,” I said. “He . . . had to go.”
“Wait, what? He left?” Lucy’s mouth dropped. “But he’s wearing the wrong pants!”
And I had kissed the wrong man. I had made the wrong choice. But when? Just now, or years ago?
Was I living the wrong life?
15
Andrew’s family cabin glowed in the dark as we wound through the woods. After an hour in the car, and twenty minutes at a grocery store that’d felt like hours, I couldn’t wait to get out and make a beeline for the shower. I’d been sitting in my own shame, the memory of David’s kiss taunting me one second and tempting me the next. His unrelenting clasp on my shoulders and surprisingly tender lips claiming mine. The memory was made of details I should’ve been desperate to forget.
As Bill and Andrew unloaded their fishing equipment, I went directly to our room, dropped my suitcase and heels by the bed, and locked myself in the bathroom.
I couldn’t face myself in the mirror. Evidence of my transgression wouldn’t be visible, but I’d see it in my eyes.
I flipped on the shower, cranking the handle to get the water as hot as possible.
“Livs?” Bill called from the bedroom.
“I’ll be out soon,” I said, stripping down.
“We’re going to make food.” He tried the door handle. “What do you want?”
Food was the last thing on my mind. I needed to cleanse, not consume. “I don’t care,” I said, piling my dress and undergarments on the tile floor.
“Want a sandwich?” The handle jiggled. “Let me in, Liv.”
I braced myself against the sink and shut my eyes. I couldn’t even face myself, let alone Bill. I needed solitude. But now, I was the kind of person who had to try to act normal so my husband wouldn’t get suspicious.
I unlocked the door and cracked it. “I’ll just have the chicken noodle soup I got at the market,” I said.
I started to shut the door, but he caught it. “Hey. Hey, wait.” He pulled my naked body against his clothed one.
My muscles tensed, but he just kissed my forehead and tucked some of my hair behind my ear. “You’ve been silent all night. Are you feeling okay?”
“I think I might be coming down with something.”
He pressed his knuckles to my forehead. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing. I just need a good night’s sleep.”
“And you’re going to get one now that we’re under the stars, away from all the noise. Doesn’t get much more peaceful than a cabin in the woods.”
For me, the best lullaby was the telltale sounds of a city not quite asleep. But Bill longed for tranquility only nature could provide.
He leaned in for a kiss. I drew back, glancing away. “I don’t want to get you sick.”
“Good point.”
I swiped the back of my hand over my mouth and curled my lips into what I hoped was a smile. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
He turned and left.
Alone, I stepped under the showerhead, dumped too much body wash in my hand, and smoothed it over my skin where the water burned.
I closed my eyes and saw David’s lusty ones reeling me in before his body cast me aside. Why had he reacted so violently, as if he’d been the one to commit the crime?
He’d nearly put his fist through the wall, but moments earlier, his solid arm had surrounded my middle, his rough hand raking through my hair, strong heartbeat thudding against my body. I squeezed my shoulders the way he had, but my grip was pitiful in comparison. I pretended my hands were his, sliding them to my breasts, my taut nipples.
Please stop.
I opened my eyes, shook my head, and twisted the dial closer to red, forcing myself in the water’s punishing path. The ache from earlier gnawed at me, dragging my hands downward. My chest heaved as I gave in to the memory, to the feel of David’s gentle, firm, rough, soothing lips against mine.
My palm pushed against the mound between my legs, slippery from the soap. I circled my opening, massaging as my arousal mounted.
I had never been so turned on by just a kiss. Maybe by anything.
David did this. Two fingers slipped inside. Firm, muscular hands. Pinning me against the mirror. He’d yank up my dress, his fingers pumping in and out and over my clit. Unforgiving hold. I was his in that moment. He’d claimed me in seconds.
I shot my other fist against the wall across from me and lost myself to thoughts of him. Lifting one leg to the opposite wall, I continued to pump and rub with my other hand. I gasped for air as David threw me on the desk, opened me with his fingers, and shoved inside me.
I pushed my foot into the tile as waves crested, throwing me into a fierce, blinding orgasm that seemed to go on for minutes.
Once my heartbeat slowed, I lowered my foot. My red and raw skin quivered. I hadn’t come in here to give in to the fantasy but to scrub myself of David. Yet, he seemed to become even more embedded. And I was filthier than ever.
I exited the shower, toweled off quickly, and took my birth control before throwing on a robe. At the thought of going out to the dining room, my throat ached. Pressure built behind my eyes. Maybe any illness was in my head, but in that moment, I couldn’t do more than lower myself onto the edge of the bed, massage my temples, and breathe deeply through my panic. I eased back against the mattress and closed my eyes.
When I opened them again, the room had gone dark, my body warm between the flannel sheets.
David’s lips touched my neck. His hand slid over my hip, curving against my backside. “We let you sleep,” Bill murmured.
My heart vaulted against my chest. “Bill?”
“Who else would it be?” He chuckled. “You were tossing and turning. Must’ve been dreaming.”
“I . . . I was.”
“Are you feeling better?” he asked, his voice lifting. “It’s so romantic out here, alone in the woods . . .”
“Lucy and Andrew are in the next room,” I pointed out, my throat threatening to close again. I was enough of a traitor to kiss and fantasize and get myself off to David’s beautiful face, strong grasp, his fierce need for me. I couldn’t let Bill inside my body within hours of that. “And I’m definitely coming down with something. What if you catch it and can’t go out on the boat tomorrow?”
Bill sighed and wrapped his arm around me, hugging me close. “You smell nice from your shower.”
I was a horrible person. I swallowed dryly as I whispered, “Thanks, babe.”
“You’re right, though. Don’t want to get sick.”
I exhaled my immense relief as he rolled onto his back, away from me.
I’d betrayed Bill. Another man’s hands, another man’s lips, another man’s scent had been on me.
One thing had been tugging at my conscience all night, a transgression I hadn’t been able to bring myself to acknowledge until now—in the complete dark, wide awake, and alone with my guilt.
David had stopped the kiss. I hadn’t.
I’d been too wrapped up in him to see the mistake I was making. How long would I have let it go on? Long enough that Bill would’ve walked in on us?
I hid my face in my pillow and prayed I’d never see David ever again. Things were dangerously easy with him, and I’d proven myself as weak as any of his girls.
But I had the memory, and it was unshakable. I began to drift amongst thoughts of wandering arms and curling toes, gripping fingers, yearning lips and eyes, smooth skin, rough palms, tuxedos, cufflinks . . .
* * *
The following night, seated at a round oak dining table, Andrew placed his last set of cards on the dining table. “Rummy.”
The three of us groaned and threw down our hands. “I’m done,” Bill said, leaning back in his chair. “That’s three in a row. Let’s play something else. Somethi
ng Andrew sucks at.”
“How about Texas Hold ’Em?” I suggested.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Andrew asked, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Good idea, babe,” Bill said, tugging on my sweatshirt. “I think I saw a poker set around here somewhere.”
“Veto,” Lucy said. “Andrew was cranky for a week after the last time we played.”
“Don’t like losing to a girl?” I asked, shuffling the deck.
“I don’t like losing a hundred bucks, period. Two hundred if you count Lucy.”
“But I used it to buy the most beautiful leather boots,” I said wistfully.
Bill chuckled and leaned over to plant a kiss on my cheek. I snuggled in the crook of his arm.
“Anyone want more salmon before I put it away?” Lucy asked. “It shouldn’t sit out any longer.”
“I’m full,” Bill said. “We got lucky with that Coho, man. The guys next to us said they usually cap around five or six pounds.”
“Yeah?” Andrew said. “Let’s see if we can pull it off again tomorrow.”
“If you do, throw the fish back,” I said, pushing away from the table. “We have plenty of food.”
“I’ll throw you back,” Bill joked as I took my empty beer into the kitchen.
Rinsing out the bottle, I looked out the small window over the sink into the dark forest. David’s strong hands clasped around my shoulders the same unrelenting way they had in Lucy’s office. He turned me around, and his hips fastened me to the counter, his erection begging against my stomach. His hold on me confident, unyielding, but his lips reverent as they touched mine. I bit my lip as his tongue slid against it. The fantasy washed over me, made of new details, unlike my furious memory in the shower.
“Enough fishing talk until I’m out of earshot or extremely drunk,” Lucy declared, her voice tearing through my thoughts.
“Then the same goes for wedding talk,” Bill said.
I set my empty bottle in the recycling bin and frowned over the breakfast bar. “Bill,” I scolded.
He glanced at me. “You girls can talk cake and centerpieces till you’re blue in the face while Andrew and I are on the boat.”
Lucy made a noise. “I don’t talk about the wedding that much.”
“How many bridal mags did you bring up here?” Bill asked.
“Well, nine. But it’s because I’m so behind, and I need Liv’s help. For one, I can’t stand white shoes. I need an alternative.”
“Tsk, tsk,” Bill said, shaking his head. “Tomorrow.”
“Ignore him,” I said, wiping my hands on a dishtowel before heading for the fridge. “He’s just being mean.”
“But one more thing real quick,” Lucy said, twisting in her seat to address me. “The tailor called this morning. Your bridesmaid dress will be ready for your first fitting a week from Monday.”
Bill’s eyebrows shot up. “Bridesmaid dress? How much was that?”
I carried four beers to the table. “We can talk about that later,” I said with warning in my tone, not wanting to make Lucy uncomfortable.
“It’s just that you didn’t mention it,” Bill said, accepting the bottle. “I’ll have to review the budget for the month.”
“Then do that,” I snapped.
Lucy exchanged a glance with Andrew as she passed him a beer.
Andrew cleared his throat. “I was actually going to ask—”
Lucy touched his arm. “Maybe it’s not the best time, sweetie.”
“What is it, Andrew?” I prompted, stopping behind Bill’s chair.
“Well . . .” Andrew gestured his beer at Bill. “My brothers make up most of my bridal party as you know, but I thought I’d see if you’d be part of it, too.”
“Oh,” Bill said. “Sure. Of course, man.”
“That’s so nice,” I said, suppressing a laugh. Bill hated weddings. That, on top of the additional cost and time Andrew had just imposed on Bill—I knew I’d be hearing about this later. “Thanks for asking,” I added.
“Yeah,” Bill echoed. “Thanks.”
With the chime of my phone alarm, I leaned over to kiss Bill’s cheek, my irritation with him dissipating with Andrew and Lucy’s kindness. “I’ll be right back,” I said before heading to the bedroom.
I rummaged through my suitcase for my birth control. When I didn’t find the pack there or in my handbag, my heart began to race. I pulled out two neat clothing piles from my luggage and checked all the pockets, then unzipped Bill’s duffel bag in a hurry and dumped his stuff on top of mine. Squatting on the floor, I rubbed my temples. I’d taken the pill last night after my shower, hadn’t I?
“Bill,” I said into the cabin. When he didn’t respond, I yelled for him.
“Coming,” he said.
I tried to think. I’d definitely taken a pill the night before and tossed the pack back into my suitcase. It had to be there, but it wasn’t.
I needed that little pill to keep my life in order. And though I hated to think it, Bill felt the opposite. He wanted that fail-safe gone, and just like with the house, I had a feeling he wouldn’t be opposed to nudging me along when I resisted.
This time, I used my angry voice when I called Bill’s name, and he came quickly.
“Yeah?” he asked, scanning the mess on the floor.
“Where’s my birth control?” My foot tapped against the floor, but I couldn’t stop it.
“What?”
“My birth control. Where is it? Did you do something with it?”
He raised his chin and looked down his nose at me. “What would I do with it?”
“I don’t know, but it’s not in my bag where it should be, and I’ve looked everywhere. Did you take it? Did you hide it?”
“Hide it . . .?” he asked. “You can’t be serious.”
It sounded crazy, but was it really? Bill had admitted, the day we’d gone to the suburbs, that he thought deep down, I wanted him to push me.
To start a relationship. To move in together. To get married.
If he didn’t move us forward, I’d stay right where I was. But that was what I wanted—to stay here until I knew for sure what the next step should be.
“I’m serious, Bill. If you took my birth control, I need to know.”
“Do you hear yourself?” he asked, reeling back. “I’m not a monster.”
“No, I know that, but—”
He strode past me and jerked open the top drawer of my nightstand. “I put it in here,” he said, pulling out the pack. Instead of handing it to me, he tossed it at my feet. “You left it there on the floor last night, and I didn’t want you to step on it.”
Oh.
Shit. What had come over me just now? Bill wanted me to choose pregnancy, but of course I knew he’d never trick me into it.
With an exhalation, I shook my head. “I’m sor—”
“You know what else?” he asked, moving by me and reaching into his suitcase. He unzipped a side pocket and pulled out a string of condoms, thrusting them toward me. “I packed these. Lots of them. I didn’t want to take any chances you might feel uncomfortable making love while we were out here. Which we haven’t done. Even though it’s the perfect setting.”
I’d gone too far just now. Bill wasn’t the bad guy here. I was the one changing the terms we’d agreed upon, asking him to wait for something he’d been honest about wanting from the start. I ran a hand through my hair, shutting my eyes briefly. “You’re right. I guess I’m just stressed. You’ve been bringing up the baby thing so much—”
“Don’t blame this on me.” He walked by me on his way out, adding, “That’s something your mom would do.”
Blood drained from my face as my throat closed. Oh my God. He was right. My mother’s paranoid, frantic episodes would come on fast and fizzle, ending with her tears and apologies. They’d grown worse over time, less sensical, more outlandish—especially in the months before she’d snapped.
I’d let my guilt over my kiss with David turn
me into someone I didn’t recognize. Did that mean I could suddenly snap, too? It was a question never far from my mind, but I’d been able to control the possibility for so long by making the right choices. Until now.
I hadn’t been acting like myself for a while. Not since the ballet.
Not since David.
That night, I’d unknowingly stood on a precipice. I hadn’t realized until this moment that I’d taken a step over the edge. And since then, I’d begun to spiral down.
16
David Dylan had been staring at me all day—from the cover of an Architectural Digest magazine Jenny had left on the desk for Lisa and me. In an urbane suit, arms crossed as he leaned in the doorway of a beautiful, midcentury home, while wearing an expression somewhere between smirk and smile, it was no surprise he’d landed the cover of Architectural Digest. He stood like a king in front of his latest masterpiece.
All day I’d avoided his stare, but as day turned to night, and the office emptied, my resolve to stay away weakened. With Bill back in New York on business for the week, and mostly giving me the silent treatment after Saturday night’s accusation, I’d been working late each night.
I scanned the three-page article. David’s firm, Pierson/Greer, was within walking distance from my office. I’d already known he was a pioneer in modern design, but apparently, he was one of the most in-demand architects in Chicago, too.
I closed the magazine and moved to my laptop to type his name in a search engine.
D-a-v-i-d D-y-
David Dylan. There he was. The first link went to Architectural Digest, and the next few, I’d already visited for research on the feature. Farther down the page, things shifted away from David.
“GQS will acquire Multi-Parcel Express, CEO Gerard Dylan announces”
Gerard Dylan. David’s father was the CEO of worldwide shipping company Global Quick & Speedy? A search on Gerard provided endless articles, both business and personal. A profile of his home life presented four perfect smiles: Gerard and his wife, Judy, a daughter, Jessa, and son, David. There was no mistaking David’s sister, who had the same obsidian hair that complemented clear brown eyes and long black lashes.
Cityscape Affair Series: The Complete Box Set Page 17
