by Mika Jolie
“Why are you always looking to run, Claire?” he asked as he closed the space between them and handing her the shoes.
Because that’s what I do. I run because your hold on me is too firm. Illicit images of Forrest standing behind her in the entryway scrambled themselves to the surface. Panic set in. The shoes slipped through her fingers as he passed them over and clunked to the floor. She bent down to pick them up just as he did and their heads bumped.
She released a sudden sigh and tried to speak. But no words came. Gulp. Then with a little more strength she said, “Sorry.” But it came out hoarse, barely audible.
After placing her purse on the coffee table by his phone, he walked over to the fireplace and propped her shoes next to the stack of firewood. His eyes met hers. “We should talk.”
Claire always prided herself for being strong and able to deal with pretty much anything…well, except for the man standing here with her. He was a mighty force. He haunted her. But other than that one little weakness, she was an impregnable fort. She did after all manage to achieve her goal as a singer. Oh, and let’s not forget a pretty well-known wedding gown designer. She was tenacious, determined, focused. But the one thing she couldn’t take, especially from Forrest, was regret. And right now, she could smell it a mile away. “I came to you last night. I knew what I was getting into.”
He continued to look through her. “I wasn’t going to apologize for having sex with you.”
Oh, okay. What then? She waited.
Forrest’s phone chirped, the modern day cricket. She lowered her gaze to the glowing screen. “It’s Jason.”
“Let it go to voice mail.”
The coolness in his voice drew her attention back to his face. He rolled the sleeves of the Henley to his elbows, muscles flexing during the act. For the first time in her twenty-eight years, she caught a hint of familiarity between Forrest, Charles, and Jason. Proud and stubborn just like his father and brother. Even the blue flecks in his eyes were like theirs.
He ran a hand over his face. “We didn’t use any protection.”
Claire rubbed the inside of her left wrist. She had been caught up in the rapturous moment and forgot caution.
His eyes were fixed on hers, brows bunched into a line across his forehead. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”
She was smart enough to read between the lines. What he didn’t say was the last thing he needed was an unwanted pregnancy.
“Don’t worry, I’m on the pill. And I’m not on antibiotics,” she added since that’s how Lily and Adam’s mishap happened. “So we’re good.”
“Good to know.” He continued to watch her with those mesmerizing eyes of his. “I think you should know the last time I had unprotected sex was with you ten years ago.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And it’s been awhile, so we’re good on my part.”
Awhile as in ten years. She wanted to ask but didn’t dare. It was silly of her to hope he actually had been abstinent until last night. She knew he dated and probably had his share of fun while in medical school. On the island, while he was discreet and private, four months ago she witnessed one of his dates at West Chop.
Reality dawned. His concern ran beyond pregnancy. Of course the Vineyard’s favorite doctor would be thinking about STDs and all. Well, he had nothing to worry about there. Considering the last time she had sex with an actual person, her deluxe silicone boyfriend not included, was two years ago. Any past lovers had been failed attempts to replace Forrest, including the only two other men who could be labeled as boyfriends. In the end, no one measured up, so she stopped trying. “Same here.”
He continued to hold her gaze as if he was processing her admission. “Your car won’t make it out.”
Forever polite, but the message was loud and clear. Time to leave. Her presence was no longer needed. “I’m sure I can manage. I got here last night.”
“Your panties is in your purse.”
She nodded. Both of their gazes went to the purse then back to each other. Neither made an attempt to move. Another vision of sexed-up Forrest standing behind her popped in her mind’s eye, she pursed her lips. His jaw ticked. Something flickered in his eyes. Heat. His mind had gone there too.
“I’ll drive you to Martha’s Way.” He started to walk past her, stopped, and gave her a once-over. “Thank you for staying till the funeral. As it turned out I needed you after all.”
* * * *
About two hours later from a drive that typically took twenty minutes, Forrest pulled his Jeep in front of Martha’s Way, tucked away amidst seven acres of lawn, garden and woods. The drive had been eerily silent. With his eyes hidden behind the black-rimmed aviator glasses, his expression etched in stone, Claire had nearly run out of the Jeep into the sanctuary of the inn. Not that he made any attempt to stop her. The word goodbye had barely slipped out of her mouth, when he drove off. Tires peeling through the snow, powder flying as he hit the banks.
Once inside, she gave her body a little shake and tried to snap herself out of her fog. What better place to relax than Martha’s Way?
No matter how many times she stayed there, the simplicity and elegance always held her attention. Artfully blending the hushed privacy of a boutique hotel with the intimacy of a romantic bed and breakfast, Jason had managed to create a haven of tranquility with an emphasis on guest comfort.
For three consecutive years, it was voted by the Massachusetts Gazette as the number one place to stay when on the island. Since going back to work with his father, he’d relinquished the everyday managerial duties to Nora, but he still stayed close enough. This place was his baby. A smile touched Claire’s lips as she made her way down to hall to one of the sitting rooms. The familiar feel of the inn slowly began to sink into her bones.
She entered the smaller of the sitting rooms and was not surprised to find Minka, Lily, and Keely sitting at the nearby table eating what appeared to be a late breakfast. She had spotted their respective cars in the parking area when Forrest dropped her off.
Claire groaned. She didn’t want to think about Forrest, especially how hurt or sexy he was. He’d literally kicked her out of his house. Not with words, he was too polite for that. The emotional distance spoke volumes.
The three women focused on her. Keely, fork in hand, signaled for her to join them.
“It’s all right, I’ll just sit here.” She waved at the walnut-colored armchair by the fireplace. She was in a crappy mood and wanted to sulk alone.
Minka shook her head. “We’ll invade your space either way, so might as well join us.”
The power of friendship. By the sound of her voice they were able to detect her mood. Knowing she had lost this battle, Claire made her way to the round table and flopped into the empty chair between Lily and Keely.
She looked them over, noticing they were in their dresses from yesterday. “What happened?” she asked looking at Lily. “I thought you guys left before the storm hit.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “Had we been driving a car equipped for this weather, we probably would have made it home.”
Minka chuckled. “Your little Mercedes isn’t any better in the snow.”
“Adam turned around because he was worried about your safety,” Keely said while filling her plate with freshly cut kiwi, blood orange, and pomegranate seeds.
“Why do you guys always stick up for Adam?” the soon-to-be mother asked without a hint of anger in her voice.
“I don’t know.” Minka shrugged, a dreamy look on her face. “He’s one of the good guys and he’s so in love with you.”
Claire nodded in agreement. “Is my mom here?”
Keely shook her head. “She left with Charles. My guess is they are in Edgartown at his house. No way was the boat going to make it to the other side of the island last night.” Claire made a mental note to call her mother later. “And Marjorie?”
“She went home with Adam’s parents,” Minka answered. “How’s Forrest? He didn’t answer any of Jason’s calls.”
>
Claire shrugged. “Hurt and angry.”
“You look like you had a crazy night,” Keely noted and the other women gave Claire a once-over. “A terrible morning and now you’re ready to have the earth swallow you.”
Claire offered a faint smile. She’d never been good at one-night stands. Hell, let’s be real, she’d never had one and now she went there with Forrest. “That pretty much sums it up.”
Keely chuckled. “So you and Forrest went there after ten years?”
By there, Claire was sure her BFF meant doing the wild thing with the Vineyard’s favorite doctor. She could deny it of course. But, she’d never been good at lying and these women were her partners in crime.
“Yup,” she admitted. “You’d think I’d be smarter than that.” Shaking her head, she picked up a freshly baked biscuit from the basket. Forrest had offered to make breakfast but knowing it had been out of politeness, she had declined and chose not to overstay her welcome.
“You’re pretty smart,” Minka offered gently.
She’d argue otherwise, because what she did was the complete opposite. She had fed the beast known as heart and even though she felt like shit, the stupid muscle wanted more. “I’m actually not smart at all.”
“Honey, you’re in love,” the forever logical Keely chimed in. “Quit running and face the big l-o-v-e monster. You did come back here for him.”
Technically, she hadn’t been running away from Forrest. Their paths crossed on many occasions and would continue to do so. It was inevitable. Their worlds were forever connected by family and friends. At every moment their lives intersected, her heart took the opportunity to remind her it was branded with the island’s favorite doctor. She needed him there. She loved him. Infinitely.
“Last night was just sex,” she muttered.
Lily pulled her iPhone from her purse and tapped on the screen, drawing Claire’s attention.
“Is everything okay?” she asked her friend. Lily’s brother Zander was a Navy SEAL and her friend constantly worried over his safety.
Lily nodded, her eyes never leaving the screen of her phone as she typed away. When she finally looked up, she had a satisfying grin on her face. “I just added you to the bidding war on the most eligible doctor on the Vineyard.”
Claire frowned. “I’m lost.”
The twin sisters chuckled, but it was Minka who spoke. “The guys are doing a fundraiser to help raise money to move Gay Head Lighthouse back from the cliff’s edge. A lucky bidder will win a date with Forrest.”
From the few articles she’d read in the Vineyard Gazette, Claire knew the iconic landmark was in danger of falling into the sea as the nearby cliffs continued to erode.
“The first day of spring, they will announce the winners,” Lily added. “Now you have a reason to stick around, especially after you and sexy doctor had out of this world sex.”
Claire’s heart twisted at the idea of Forrest on a romantic date with someone. Last fall, she caught a glimpse of one of his dates. Kerry had been all over him, but Forrest hadn’t seemed to mind. Ugh! “I’m not bidding on Forrest.”
“Why not?” Keely asked. “What better way to show him you still want him?”
She stared at Keely. “And how would that help other than making a fool of myself?”
Minka leaned in. “Maybe you can just tell him you’re in love with him and want him back.”
Lay all of her cards on the table and be honest about her feelings with Forrest. Under normal circumstances that would be the most reasonable approach, but after ten years? She stood no chance. So why did she walk out of her promotional tour and back on the island again?
All right, she was a bit lost and confused. Sue her. “Nope. Never gonna happen.”
Lily slid her phone in front of Claire. “Your screen name is Tattooed Hearts. Password is foreverectomy. All one word and lowercase.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m going for the whole Gray’s Anatomy thingy.”
“Isn’t that ominous, considering?” Keely’s expression said she thought so.
“Hence why that’s not the password.” Lily beamed.
Minka and Keely stifled a laugh. Claire exhaled.
“Foreverectomy,” Minka said.
Lily nodded, her face glowing with pride. “It means a surgical procedure that lasts a very long time.” She glanced at Claire. “Like the hold Forrest has on you.”
Keely arched a brow then nodded in agreement. Claire sighed.
“Your account is ready for you to bid whenever your heart desires,” Lily continued.
Claire glanced down at the phone. “I won’t be here by then. As soon as I can catch the ferry I’m leaving.”
While at it, she’d gladly sell off her heart. The creative part of her brain already had a catchy phrase to get rid of the damn thing. For sale—One heart. Condition—Horrible. Asking Price—Will take anything for it. Just cut it out of my chest and end this suffering.
Chapter Eleven
“I am proud of my heart. It’s been played, stabbed, burned, and broken. But somehow it still works.”
Anonymous
After a snowbound day in his house and filled with pent-up energy, Forrest sprang from the mat and was immediately greeted by another body shot from Blake. This one to his ribs sent fresh ripples of pain through his torso. He didn’t fall–he made absolutely sure that didn’t happen. Ignoring the excruciating pressure with promises to be sore later, he covered the distance between them, threw three quick jabs. Left-right-left. Each one landing on his sparring partner’s headgear.
Blake seemed immune to the blows and counterattacked.
Punches flew. Forrest retaliated. He swung his leg around in a semicircular motion into a roundhouse kick. Blake dodged and threw a haymaker. Forrest ducked but didn’t parry the blow, it landed on the side of his head.
He stumbled to the side, recovered, and responded with an uppercut. The blow landed, forcing Blake to step back. With full force, Forrest charged forward. A clean shoulder-to-shoulder hit arched Blake’s spine and the two men came down hard on the mat. They tumbled over each other, arms and legs entangled, grappling as they brawled to pin each other to the ground. Eventually they fell on their backs with arms splattered on their sides and a whimper of exhaustion left their lips.
“You tapped out,” Blake said between short gasps of breath.
Forrest lay on the mat, eyes closed, sweat dripping down the side of his face. “In your dreams.” He rolled to his side, bruised ribs protested in pain. A vision of Claire’s lips kissing his aching muscles burned his brain.
Shit.
Shaking his head, he hauled his weight to his hands and knees, head hanging low, like a winded horse.
“I almost broke your arm,” Blake insisted.
Forrest laughed for the first time since his father’s death, but the act hurt his ribcage. He hoisted himself to his feet and extended a hand to Blake. “We can go at it again.”
“I can’t let you take all of your anger out on me. Beside, you owe me a drink for picking you up at the inn.”
Right. He did drag Blake on his mission to return Claire’s car.
Blake wiped his forearm across the sweat trickling in his eyes. “And for driving your ass back to get your car.”
Forrest grabbed his bottled water, twisted off the cap and gulped down a few mouthfuls, quenching his thirst.
“And by the way,” Blake continued, “you’re chicken shit for not facing her.”
Forrest couldn’t argue there. Especially after she unselfishly gave herself to him to be done with as he pleased. The bastard in him had done exactly that, until they collapsed half-delirious with pleasure. In the morning he toyed with the idea of asking her to stay for one more day, but the sight of her looking for an escape brought back bitter memories and forced him to automatically shut down.
Once upon a time she was all he wanted.
His heart, safely tucked in a steel cage, banged against its rigid barrier.
He i
gnored the protest. Claire was the last person on earth he should be involved with on any level.
Still, he probably could have been–scratch that, he definitely could have been more appreciative. After burying his pain in her, he’d made his body fit on the crammed sofa with Claire basically on top of him so that they didn’t share his bed. A desperate attempt to guard his heart.
He was a cad.
Regret emerged and tried to consume him, but Forrest shoved it down. He would not analyze every action or word from every angle and writhe in the agony of paths untaken. He’d been down that road before. When she first left, pangs of woe, remorse, and nostalgia would come to him in quiet moments, during sleep or with his nose buried in a medical book. Regret for not chasing her and demand an explanation would seep to the foreground of his mind and commanded to be re-examined again.
No amount of analysis was going to turn back the clock. He had to get on with the here and now. Tired of thinking about Claire, he vowed a long time ago he’d make better choices next time around. That included sex, especially with Claire. No matter how perfectly suited they were or that he wanted a replay of last night as badly as his next breath.
He had to stay away.
For that reason, he hadn’t gone inside Martha’s Way to return the car key. “I’m not running from Claire.”
“Could have fooled me.”
Forrest grabbed his workout bag and threw it over his shoulder. The movement burned his shoulder blade. He hissed over the self-inflicted pain. “Thanks for the free counseling session. Meet me later and I’ll buy you a beer.”
“See you at Vapor.”
“Pick another spot.”
“Avoiding Jason too?” Blake shook his head. “He didn’t ask to be a Montgomery any more than you did.”
“I’m not a Montgomery.”
