Nora Roberts Land

by Ava Miles

  His mouth curled. “Fine, if that’s how you want it.”

  He slammed his lips against hers, mask and all. The impact rocked her back on her heels. He followed, his hands fisting around her waist. Her mouth opened. His tongue swept inside. The feel of it had her body screaming, her muscles clenching hard in response. She dropped her staff and gripped his head.

  After so many years of wanting him, her body was screaming Yes, God, yes.

  He changed the angle of their kiss, deepening it, his cold leather gloves settling on her even colder butt. He thrust his hips forward, making her stomach seize. She wanted him. Now. Was about to make the biggest mistake of her life.

  His breath fanned out in short puffs, matching hers. “Let’s get out of here.”

  A scream broke through her aroused reverie. Brian lifted his head as shouting erupted in the house behind them, and both of them turned to look inside. People were running everywhere, yelling at the top of their lungs.

  “Something’s wrong. We should get inside.”

  He pushed her toward the door.

  All traces of the party had evaporated. Women were crying, mascara running down their cheeks. The few men who weren’t wearing masks had the shocked, rubbernecking look people get near a fatal car crash. A few people were kneeling down over something. Jill edged closer, but then stopped in her tracks when she caught sight of a sandaled foot lying lax on the worn green carpet.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered as the shock hit, and a tremor ran through her body.

  She looked higher and saw that some guy was shaking Jemma, who was lying supine on the floor, Ray beside her.

  “Jem!” she screamed.

  “Christ!” Brian pushed through the crowd. He knelt by Jemma and pressed two fingers to her neck, looking for a pulse. He thrust the guy away with a hard shove and tugged off his mask. Turning her head, he started CPR.

  “I don’t know what happened,” Ray cried, wringing his dark green costume. “She stopped breathing.”

  Jill edged closer. She watched Brian count in between breaths, his cupped hands making compressions on her chest.

  “Call an ambulance, Jillie,” he yelled and then lowered his mouth to Jemma’s again.

  She fell back, hitting people. Oh, God. Where was her purse? “I need a cell phone! Now” she shrieked.

  “Here!” a girl cried out to her right, thrusting something at her.

  Jill dimly realized she was dressed as Barbie before opening it and dialing in three scary numbers with a shaking finger.

  “Man, the cops are going to show up. I’m outta here,” one of the vampires said. “Ray, you’d better take off too.”

  His gaze met hers before he stumbled off, a few of the other guests following him. Cowards, she wanted to yell.

  When dispatch picked up, Jill relayed their location, and reported that her friend wasn’t breathing. She didn’t hear what the lady said next, or if she did, she couldn’t process it. Barbie took the phone from her limp hand.

  Brian continued CPR. Jill waited for Jemma to push him off and say, Yuck, McConnell, get that mouth away. And then laugh with gusto.

  But she didn’t.

  Jill stood frozen, locked in ice.

  Brian’s red face beaded with sweat. “Dammit, Jill, get over here!”

  She tripped as she took a step, off balance, and fell next to her best friend. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she reached for Jemma’s hand. It already seemed cold to her. She fingered her wrist for a pulse. This is bad, her mind said, but she couldn’t feel that. She couldn’t feel anything.

  “Bri, she doesn’t have a pulse,” she gasped.

  He took a deep breath as he pumped his hands on Jemma’s chest. “She will. Dammit, Jem! Come on. Come back to us.”

  Then he pressed his mouth to hers again, trying to breathe life into her.

  His emotional reaction triggered Jill’s. “Jemma, please!” she cried, sobbing now, her hands tearing at her hair.

  “I think she’s gone,” someone commented.

  Brian started pumping again—one, two, three. “Shut the fuck up! She’s going to be fine.” He lowered his mouth to hers again.

  Putting a trembling hand on his arm,” Jill said, “Bri.”

  He shot up, his blue eyes red-rimmed, wild. “No! She’s not dying on me.”

  Jill’s heart exploded, the fragments burying deep into her bones, pain radiating everywhere.

  Brian didn’t give up. Not until the paramedics arrived, pulled him off, and pronounced Jemma dead.

  She walked over to him, feeling like she wasn’t in her own body, but in some glass room where she could see everything but not be touched by it. Brian was panting, watching with glassy eyes as they laid a blanket over Jemma, covering her beautiful face. Jill wrapped her arms around him, pressed her face into his chest, and fell to pieces. His hands fisted by his sides, and she rubbed at the tension in his back, wanting to comfort, seeking his comfort. Then his arms squeezed her in a vice, and he buried his sweaty head in her neck, making her sob all the harder.

  Chapter 18

  Meredith set the morning paper aside when she heard the muffled rap on the door. She darted forward, her slippers sliding on the hardwood floor. She hoped Jill wouldn’t wake up.

  She looked through the peephole and saw Tanner holding two cups of coffee. Even though she wasn’t dressed, she cinched her blue terrycloth robe closed and opened the door. If anyone expected her to look presentable, they weren’t her friend.

  “I heard what happened. I brought you guys coffee.”

  After what had happened between them the night before, she thought about telling him to get lost, but she didn’t want that. God, she hurt—it felt like she’d been beaten by a bat everywhere.

  “Come in,” she said in a soft voice, “but please be quiet. Jillie’s finally asleep.”

  She took the coffee, and stepped back to let him in. He removed his outerwear, displaying jeans and a black fleece—a far cry from the pirate outfit. When he followed her into the kitchen, she gestured to a worn chair.

  He laid his hands on the table and pinned her with that intense gaze of his. “I had a bad feeling this morning that you didn’t show up at the pool because of what happened between us last night. So I swam off my mad and headed to Don’t Soy with Me. Margie told me what happened. It’s a tragedy. How’s Jill?”

  She wanted to hold his hand, so she gripped the coffee cup instead. “She’s devastated,” she said after a moment, “and she’s afraid it’s her fault. She left her to go outside. Brian had arrived.” She rubbed her neck, remembering how Jill’s streaming tears had mixed with her black mascara. “He followed. They had another row. When they heard the commotion, they went back inside.”

  She took a sip of the coffee—it didn’t do much to soothe her throat, but at least it was warm. “Brian started CPR. Jill said he didn’t stop until the paramedics dragged him off.”

  “That’s tough.”

  “Yes. Yes, it is.” She couldn’t stop thinking that her grandpa might have been onto something about the kids getting sick from booze and pot. Oh, God.

  “Any idea what happened?”

  She pushed the other coffee toward him without answering. She didn’t want to say anything yet. “Drink it. Jill won’t once it’s been cold.”

  “How are you holding up?” Tanner asked, taking her hand.

  Her fingers jerked, but he didn’t let go. “Umm…I don’t know. Jemma was always around growing up. She, Jill, Brian, and Pete were the four musketeers.” When he squeezed her hand, she looked down at the grooves in the farm table. “It’s a damn waste,” she whispered, fighting tears. “She was so young.”

  He pulled her out of her chair. Her bones felt like plastic from fatigue, shock, and grief, and when he enfolded her in his arms, holding her tight against his chest, she rested her head on his shoulder.

  “Yes, she was,” he whispered.

  The burn of tears alarmed her, but she was too tired to do more t
han rub her face into his fleece.

  His hands rubbed her back without demand. “Shh…You should rest too. You’re about ready to fall over.”

  Meredith pulled back and wiped away a stray tear.

  Nudging her hand away, he traced a finger down her cheek. “You look beautiful. Probably an odd thing to say right now, but it’s true.”

  No, it was dear. She realized she couldn’t move away from the heat he radiated. It was as warm and comforting as sunshine drenching a window seat on a winter’s day.

  “Why are you here?” she made herself ask, her heart hopeful but still guarded.

  He sighed. “I don’t have a good explanation. I only know I couldn’t stay away.”

  Oh God. “This is getting complicated.”

  He rubbed his hands up her arms, and then let go. “Let’s leave that for now. So, do you know what happened?” he asked again.

  She sat back down and gripped her coffee in both hands. His touch felt too good. She realized it was nice to lean on someone. She’d been the strong one last night when Brian dropped off Jill, who was shaking and wrapped in a black cape and a police blanket.

  “Jill didn’t see it, but others said Jemma started to shake violently. Then she stopped and went limp.” But she hadn’t puked like the kids who’d been hospitalized, so what did that mean? She shook herself. “Brian couldn’t find a pulse. She wasn’t breathing.”

  “Was she using?”

  Meredith pushed her hair behind her ear. “Just alcohol and pot. Pete—her childhood sweetheart—showed up with a new girl. Jemma was devastated, and she acted out.”

  “That wouldn’t kill her.”

  “No, it shouldn’t have.”

  “Who’s handling the case?”

  “Are you asking as a journalist?”

  He held up his hands, palms up. “I have a journalist’s curiosity.”

  Right. She needed to remember that. “Larry Barlow, the deputy sheriff, and the coroner, a family friend. We’ll have to wait for the autopsy. Grandpa checked to make sure it’s being expedited.”

  Grandpa had called her an hour or two ago after coming by late last night to check on Jill. He was heartbroken, but his gut was quivering too. They’d have to wait and see what the autopsy report said.

  His fingers drummed the side of the cup. “Her family will want to know why.”

  “Yes. My parents are flying back for the memorial service.”

  “I should go. You need to rest.”

  The realization that she didn’t want him to leave made her hand clench around the coffee. Not good. Still, she followed him to the door. He stuffed his boots on and wiped up the snow-melt on the floor.

  When he opened the door, their gazes locked. “I’ll call you later to check on you guys.”

  “Don’t you need my number?”

  The wind ruffled his thick hair as he started down the sidewalk. “Don’t insult me, Mermaid,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m a journalist.” He jogged to his car, making footprints in the snow.

  She shut the door and leaned her forehead against it. A warmth cupped her heart.

  He called you, Mermaid, Divorcée Woman practically sang. How sweet.

  Yes, it was.

  Chapter 19

  Nearly a thousand people attended Jemma’s funeral, a mix of college students and Dare residents. The college had offered the use of the basketball arena. Meredith winced at the squeaks from people’s shoes meeting the treated wood floor. Somehow, it ruined the sacredness of the ceremony more than the hydrogen stadium lights.

  People cried all around her on the cold metal bleachers. Everyone was still in shock over the autopsy report. Jemma had died from a heart murmur. Meredith couldn’t believe it. Her grandpa had thrown the report on the floor and stormed out of his office, leaving her to pick it up with shaking hands.

  She’d died of natural causes. Her grandpa had been wrong after all—there was no story here.

  Why didn’t it hurt any less?

  She shifted on the bleachers as more students told stories about Jemma from the lily-decorated podium. Even the Anderson family braved the stage, their faces splotchy, wiping away tears. Meredith reached for a Kleenex when Jill adjusted the microphone and told a story of them as kids. She’d chosen one that also showcased Brian and Pete—a nice touch, Meredith thought.

  “She was fearless,” Jill finished, looking unfamiliar in a black dress with none of her usual colorful accessories. “And so full of life. I’ll miss you.” She stumbled coming down the dais, and both Pete and Brian jumped from their chairs to help. It broke Meredith’s heart. The bond between them might be frayed, but it wasn’t gone.

  Jill darted back and pressed her face into their mother’s neck, crying softly.

  Meredith studied Brian for a moment. She hadn’t seen him at all over the past few days. No one seemed to know where he’d gone. His face looked green under the fluorescent lights.

  Her eyes flitted past the middle section of the crowd and met Tanner’s gaze. Her mouth turned up slightly in a poor attempt at a smile. He tilted his head to the side like he was studying her. God, he looked handsome in a simple white shirt and black blazer. They stared at each other until her neck developed a crick. She rubbed it and looked away, her heart pounding in her ears.

  The pallbearers carried Jemma’s coffin out of the arena, their college bodies hunched over from grief. The Hales shuffled out.

  Jill scanned the crowd. “Brian!” she called out, and took off at a run.

  Grandpa Hale nudged Meredith. “Best go after her. She’ll need you.”

  Nodding, she kissed his cheek and followed her sister. Brian was heading for the rear exit like his tail was on fire, but Jill increased her speed. So did Meredith. She wasn’t sure if she should follow, but she couldn’t bear for them to have another fight. Not now.

  Jill made it to the side door and pushed the heavy frame open. “Brian! Dammit. Stop!”

  He finally turned to face her.

  Jill slowed. She was breathing hard. “I’ve been…calling you…for five days. Why haven’t you…called me back?”

  His face held a tinge of yellow, and even from this distance, his eyes looked puffy and bloodshot. “I wanted to be left alone.” He unbuttoned his navy blazer and rested his hands on his hips. “Why are you suddenly so eager to call me anyway? Fucking-A, Jill.”

  She marched forward and drilled her finger into his chest. “Don’t you dare ‘fucking-A’ me! I was worried about you.”

  He scoffed.

  Meredith edged a bit closer.

  “Just leave me the fuck alone.”

  “No,” she said shoving her hands against his chest.

  He grabbed them.

  Meredith strode forward. “Stop it. Both of you.”

  They turned to face her, and Brian dropped Jill’s hands. “You keep her away from me, Meredith. I can’t take it right now. Neither can Pete.”

  Jill flinched. “Like he fucking cares. He dumped her.”

  “He cares! He’s suffering just like the rest of us. But I’m not going to argue with you. I just can’t…not right now, Red.”

  Brian jogged off. Jill’s shoulders slumped.

  “Come here, Jillie Bean,” Meredith said, pulling her in for a hug.

  Jill clung to her like a monkey. “It’s never going to be all right again!” she sobbed.

  Meredith gripped her sister harder, knowing how shitty it was to tell anyone time healed all wounds. Blah, blah, blah. She’d hated it when people told her that after her divorce.

  “Everything okay?” she heard Tanner ask from behind them. She swiveled a bit to look at him, releasing Jill. He had his hands on his hips, his gaze understanding. “Come on. Let’s get the two of you a cup of tea. Then we’ll go to the gravesite.”

  Jill bit her lip. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to see them put her in the ground.”

  “I know you don’t,” Tanner said, gently resting a hand on her shoulder, “but she’s not
there anymore. You remember that.” He pulled her against his chest. “You go for her family. And because you’re still here.”

  He rubbed her back like she was a little child, and she started crying again. How many people had cried in his arms during a war? He seemed to know exactly what to do, what to say.

  Meredith’s heart tingled, like it had gone numb and was coming alive again. It…hurt. Seeing him comfort her sister like that had her defenses cracking like a hand through a window. He seemed like someone she could trust. She gripped her charcoal bustier under her black dress.

  You can trust him, Meredith.

  She lowered her trembling hands, realizing her alter ego was right.

  Tanner eased back. “You ready now?”

  He held out his hand, which Jill took. When he extended his other hand to Meredith, her eyes burned. She grabbed it, his strong hold a comfort as they walked down the cold, quiet hall.

  He left them at the gravesite and blended into the crowd. Jill stood tall with the wind whipping through her hair, her face now devoid of tears. Meredith brushed at the wetness trailing down her own face and blamed the wind.

  When everyone returned to their cars, she walked over to Tanner’s SUV. He rolled the window down.

  “I wanted to thank you,” she said. “For helping Jill.” She looked away when his direct gaze only heightened her awkwardness and vulnerability. “You’re…really good with people. I can see why you’re such a good journalist.”

  He was rubbing the bridge of his nose when she met his eyes again. “I lost my best friend in high school. A car accident. I was in the passenger’s seat. The car hit the driver’s side.” He touched the small scar near his mouth.

  Goosebumps rippled across her skin. “I’m sorry.”

  “You should get back to your car. You’re shivering. Where are your gloves?”

  “I left them in the car.”

  He pulled his own off with quick efficiency. “Take mine.” He reached for her hand and slid one on. Her heart pumped hard and fast in her chest. They were too big, but she didn’t stop him. When he’d finished putting the other on, she could barely swallow over the lump in her throat. Could you be aroused and moved at the same time?