by Nona Raines
“Yeah.” Kyla grimaced. “I’m sure they’d find a way to blame me for that.”
“Stop it. You know they like you.” He shifted awkwardly, the bags dangling from his hands.
“Uh-huh. After they forgave me for luring their son into living in sin.” She rolled her eyes then frowned. “Hey, what’s the matter? You don’t say hi to Cassie?”
“Oh. Hi, Cass.” Jordan waved at her as best he could with a plastic grocery bag hanging from his wrist. Her chest tightened with disappointment. Where was the teasing Jordan of this morning? The one who’d palmed her butt, who’d rubbed his hardness against her? The one who’d given her that naughty grin? This Jordan was a watered-down imitation.
“Hi, Cass”? That’s all I get? She wanted a kiss too.
How stupid. His arms were full of groceries. And they were in the driveway, in plain view. She could just imagine what the neighbors would think if they saw him give her the same kind of kiss he bestowed on Kyla. Not that she gave a damn about neighbors. But Jordan and Ky wouldn’t want to make themselves the subject of gossip.
After bidding them a hasty good-bye, Cassie drove home with her own groceries, immersed in confusion.
* * * *
At Jordan’s parents’ house, Kyla was finishing her helping of cake and ice cream when her cell phone rang. It was her sister Kendra calling. “Excuse me, everyone.” She found a quiet corner in the next room. “Hello?”
“Hey, Ky. You got a minute to talk?”
Kyla plopped herself into an armchair. “Sure.” She kept her voice low to avoid being overheard. “Just as long as it’s got nothing to do with the asshole.”
Kendra was silent. Kyla’s chest filled with dread. “Oh, shit. What’d he do this time?”
The asshole was their stepfather, Marty. Their mother had married him when both sisters were still children, after their father died. She’d thought her daughters needed a father figure. But nobody needed a man like Marty Burton in their life. He was a terrible stepfather and a worse husband.
Kyla clenched her teeth. “Don’t tell me he—”
“He got pulled over for DUI.”
“Again? Well, I hope Mom let his ass sit in jail for a few days.”
“Are you kidding? She ran right down there and posted bail.”
“Well, where’d she get the money?” Marty and her mother both worked, but their combined income barely covered their bills.
Again Kendra fell silent. Kyla groaned. “Jesus, Ken, I can’t believe you did that. You’ve got your kids to take care of.” Her sister was a single mom of two young daughters. “You don’t have money to throw away on Mom’s worthless-ass husband.”
“I know, I know, but Mom called me crying. Said that Marty would lose his job if they kept him in jail, and she didn’t know what to do.”
“For God’s sake.”
“So I gave her the money. And you’re right,” Kendra said, “I couldn’t afford it. So now I can’t pay my gas and electric bill.”
Kyla closed her eyes, counted to ten. “How much do you need?”
“Can you spare a hundred?”
“You don’t think I’m gonna let my nieces sit in the cold and dark, do you?”
“Thanks, Ky.” Kyla heard the relief in her sister’s voice.
“You’re welcome. But do me a favor and don’t do Mom any more favors. Not any concerning Marty, all right?”
Kendra promised, but Kyla knew she was blowing smoke. The next time their mother called in tears, Kendra would be right there, enabling her. Just the way their mom enabled Marty. And Kyla enabled her sister. And the only one who benefitted was Marty.
How’d we all get so fucked up?
This was why Kyla never wanted to get married. Most little girls grew up playing bride with their Barbie dolls, and later imagining themselves in the white gown and veil. But not Kyla. Seeing her mother get knocked around by her birth father, and later her stepfather, had taken care of that. She never wanted a man to “take care of her,” never wanted to be dependent. Vulnerable, like her mother and her mother’s friends. No matter how unhappy they were, they were stuck with too many kids and too many bills, and no way to get free. Ky promised herself she would never be like them.
She and her sister changed the subject to Kendra’s daughters. Before ending the call, Kyla assured Kendra she’d wire the cash. She’d make it two hundred. Kendra could use it, and Kyla certainly didn’t begrudge it. But she felt as though they were all trapped in a hamster wheel, spinning furiously and going nowhere.
Jordan’s mother had been giving Kyla looks throughout the evening, but waited until Kyla was on the way to the bathroom before swooping in helicopter-style.
“Kyla, dear. We were wondering when you’d rejoin the party.”
A little dig about taking the phone call. God forbid anyone should want to take a minute away from the Brougham hoop-de-doo. “It was my sister.”
“I hope everything’s all right.”
Kyla didn’t want to think anymore about her mother or Marty. “Sure.”
“Well, listen, dear. Jordan’s been so quiet this evening. I’m concerned. Is something wrong? Are the two of you having problems?”
Oh yeah, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?
But she knew exactly what Diane was referring to. Jordan was often the quiet one among his boisterous brothers, but this evening he’d been silent and downright morose.
Kyla took a breath and held it. When she’d shunted her anger aside, she responded in what she hoped was a reasonable tone. “No, it’s nothing like that, Diane. He’s just a little tired. It’s sweet of you, though, to be concerned.”
“Oh, I’m so relieved.” Mrs. Brougham’s smile was flat and insincere.
I’ll just bet you are. She and Diane often played this little game of thrust and parry. Kyla knew Jordan’s mother would burst into a Snoopy dance of joy if the day ever came that she and Jordan broke up.
Diane wasn’t finished yet. “Well, he needs to make sure he gets enough rest.” Meaning Kyla should make sure and it was clearly her fault that Jordan wasn’t at his best tonight. That’s right, Diane, I keep him up all hours of the night worshipping Satan and having wild orgies. Kyla stopped short as she recalled what they had done the night before.
Wouldn’t that curl Diane’s hair?
She finally escaped to the bathroom and returned to the living room, where Jordan’s siblings, along with their spouses and kids, were chatting, eating, and playing. Jordan himself was nowhere to be seen. Kyla saw the door to the study was partially open, and she approached, ready to knock, when she heard Jordan’s voice.
He sounded tired. “Dad, we’ve had this conversation before.”
“And we’ll continue to have it, until you listen to reason.”
Kyla’s skin prickled. Was Joe Sr. giving Jordan a hard time about his relationship with her?
“You’re wasting your life in this career. Hell, it’s not even a career,” Joe went on. “It’s just a job.”
A sour taste filled Kyla’s mouth. It was worse than she thought. She could handle Jordan’s father disliking her, but it pissed her off no end when he undermined Jordan’s choices in life.
“It’s a job I like, which is more than a lot of people can say.”
“But you’re capable of so much more. Look at your brothers. They all have college educations and good professions. You’re the only one—”
“Yeah, I know. I’m the only one without a four-year degree or more, the only one who doesn’t put on a tie when he goes to work.”
Son of a bitch. Kyla wanted to storm the room and pull Jordan out of there. But that would only embarrass him, and she knew he felt low enough as it was. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? Let him be happy with his choices?
Jordan was a middle child, the fourth of six children, and though his family loved him, Kyla knew they didn’t “get” him. His father was a professor at a local college and his mother a former teacher. He was the only ch
ild in the family with “only” an associate’s degree from a community college rather than a master’s from an Ivy League university. The only one who had a blue-collar job rather than a career as accountant, lawyer, or teacher. And the only one, aside from his younger sister Jilly, who wasn’t married with children.
Jordan wasn’t exactly a black sheep, but he was an anomaly in the Brougham family. And Kyla knew that was partly her doing. Her resolve never to marry and her insistence that he never propose was one of the reasons Jordan stood out among his siblings. Not that his parents knew of their bargain. They wouldn’t be at all pleased with her if they did.
Though they drove her nuts, Kyla knew Joe and Diane Brougham weren’t bad people, but their expectations were fucked up. If someone didn’t reach a certain level of success, he’d fallen short. There wasn’t much wiggle room for individuality. Jordan tried marching to the beat of the Brougham drummer, but he was always half a step behind. And his parents never let him forget it.
They had no idea how much their disapproval hurt him. The Brougham family might look perfect from the outside, but Kyla knew better. Oh, they weren’t as dysfunctional as the Denster clan, but Joe and Diane were a team, equally yoked and equally determined to mold their children into who Mom and Dad thought they should be. They didn’t raise their voices, didn’t use their fists. They did their damage in quieter, more subtle ways.
Shit. And Jordan wondered why she hated the thought of marriage.
“Kywa, Kywa!” A toddler ran down the hall and launched herself against Kyla.
Kyla reached out and scooped the little girl up in her arms. “Hey, there, Lainey! What you up to, monkey?”
Lainey laughed and squirmed in Kyla’s embrace. “I not a monkey! I a girl!”
When Jordan’s sister Jilly appeared, Lainey allowed herself to be transferred to her aunt. “Come on, girlfriend,” Jilly said. “Your mommy’s looking for you.”
The commotion in the hallway had caught the attention of the two men in the study. When Jordan appeared at the door, Kyla could tell from his expression that he was trying to keep it together. “Ready to head home, baby?”
You bet. Kyla followed his lead and tried to keep her cool. “Sure.” They made short work of saying their good-byes and headed out to the car. They were silent until Jordan pulled out of his parents’ driveway.
“Your mother cornered me tonight,” Kyla said. “Asked if we were having problems.”
The muscles of Jordan’s cheek bunched as he turned the steering wheel. “Why the hell’d she do that?”
“‘Cause you barely said two words to anyone tonight.” She watched him closely, knowing he’d been humiliated by his father, not wanting to make it worse. “Everyone noticed. Didn’t you see the looks you were getting?”
No answer. His stubborn silence frustrated the hell out of her. Arguments she could deal with. Stonewalling pissed her off. “Your parents already don’t like me. Now they think I’m making you miserable. So thanks for that.”
“They like you just fine.” The words sounded as if Jordan had ground them to bits between his teeth.
“Whatever. Look, if you’re pissed at me for some reason, just spit it out. I can’t stand this passive-aggressive bullshit.”
He was silent a moment longer. On a long exhale, he said, “I’m sorry.”
As she watched his expression, some of Kyla’s anger eased. She knew him well enough to see that he was struggling with something.
She scanned the road and spotted a gas-station-slash-Kwik-E-Mart up ahead. “Pull in up there, babe.”
“You need to go?”
“We need to talk. And I don’t want us to have an argument or whatever while we’re driving.” She’d seen too many accidents in the ER caused by texting and other distractions. Domestic disputes definitely fell into that category.
Once they’d parked, Kyla turned to him. “Okay. What’s the problem?”
He shook his head, refusing to look at her. Kyla’s heart sped up in fear. It wasn’t like Jordan to be so distant. “Nothing. ”
Suddenly she realized why he was in such a strange frame of mind and could have kicked herself for not thinking of it sooner. “You’ve been thinking about Cassie, haven’t you? About last night.”
He nodded, still looking down at the dashboard. Kyla didn’t know what to make of his reticence and wondered if he was ashamed. She took his hand, rubbed her thumb over his palm. “You seemed to enjoy it.”
He laughed softly and sardonically, mocking the understatement. “I fucking loved it.”
“Babe, so did I.”
“But tonight, I couldn’t help wondering…what they’d think if they knew.” His shoulders slumped as if in defeat.
Anger flashed through her. At the Broughams for having such sway over Jordan’s self-esteem and at Jordan for allowing it. “It’s our life and none of their business. How would they ever find out, anyway?”
“I know.” But he didn’t sound convinced. He placed his parents on a pedestal. As though they could do no wrong. Kyla knew her outlook was cynical, because of all the crap she’d gone through as a kid, but she was also more realistic. Nobody’s relationship was perfect, including that of Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Brougham.
But the only relationship she cared about now was her own. “Are you sorry? About last night?”
He looked directly at her for the first time since they’d left his parents. “I need to ask you something. When you were alone with Cassie today, did anything happen?”
Kyla drew back in surprise. She knew what he was asking, but wondered why. “No. Not the way you mean. We had breakfast, watched a movie. Hung out. That’s all.”
He nodded. “All right.”
“You believe me, don’t you?” Anger sparked again, mixed with fear. What was going on with him? “Jordan, I wouldn’t do anything behind your back.”
“I know.” He put his arm around her, drew her against his side. She relaxed against him and felt him loosen up as well. The tension that had kept him stiff and withdrawn flowed out of him.
But now she had her own questions. Why had Jordan asked about her and Cassie? It couldn’t be jealousy. He surely couldn’t believe she’d ever replace him. She snuggled her face to the soft flannel of Jordan’s shirt, breathing in his scent. He came first with her, always would. She liked Cassie a lot, maybe even loved her. But if they had to go back to being “just friends,” then that was how it would be. Kyla wouldn’t endanger what she had with Jordan.
He obviously had regrets about what they’d done last night. That made Kyla sad, not only for him, but for her too. It wasn’t just that she was disappointed there’d be no more kinky fun with Cass. A heavy sense of loss weighted down her chest. She grieved for a missed opportunity, a chance at love that might never come again. But telling Jordan that would hurt him, make him feel diminished.
So Kyla resolved to keep her feelings to herself. Though she was pressed to his side, she suddenly felt miles away from him. She’d never kept a secret this big from him before. It felt dishonest, as though she were telling a lie.
It felt like cheating.
* * * *
He trusted Ky implicitly and knew she’d never lie to him. When she told him nothing more had happened between her and Cassie, he believed her.
Why did I ask her that? Was he such an insecure bastard that he was threatened by the thought of his baby enjoying a little girl-on-girl? Maybe he really was the “Dud” the guys on the crew thought he was.
Or was he actually disappointed that the ladies hadn’t indulged? His Ky was an adventurous woman. She’d proven that many times since they’d hooked up. Last night she’d explored not just one, but two, of her fantasies. Maybe her curiosity about being with a woman and having a three-way had been satisfied. Been there, done that, check it off the bucket list, and let’s move on. Was that why he felt let down?
Because he wanted to do it again. And again.
His thoughts again went to his parents. They�
��d be married thirty-eight years in July. They’d made a commitment and stuck by each other through good times, bad times, six children and all. He admired them and dreamed of having that kind of relationship with Kyla. With or without marriage.
Jordan always saw himself as a one-woman man. He wasn’t a “playa” like some of the other guys, never wanted to be. Now he wanted something that would shock his neighbors, amaze his friends, and send his parents into cardiac arrest.
They were still a bit cautious around Kyla, a bit mistrustful. Too bad they weren’t as wary of their own son. Because as much as he loved Kyla, Jordan wanted to have Cassie again. To be with them both.
Chapter Six
The following Friday afternoon found Kyla at the Wishy Washy Laundromat, sorting through a basket full of dirty clothes. She grimaced as she picked up one of Jordan’s crusty socks. Yuck. I need a hazmat suit for this. She blessed her phone for ringing and interrupting the disgusting chore.
It was Jordan. This was just about the time he got off from work. “Hey, baby.”
“Hi, babe. Where you at?”
“The supermarket. Thought I’d pick up a few things on my way home. Just wanted to see if there’s anything we need.”
She ran through a few items then said, “I’m not home either. The stupid washer finally died, so I’m at the Laundromat.”
“Crap. I’ll take a look at it when I get home.”
“I think we’re gonna have to break down and actually call a repairman.”
“No.” Jordan was insistent. “I want to look it over first.”
Kyla rolled her eyes. It wasn’t like they couldn’t afford a repairman’s visit. Jordan just had that male pride thing going on. He worked with big machines every day and couldn’t let some household appliance get the better of him. “I’ll be home in about an hour.”
“Okay. I’ll get dinner started.”
Kyla ended the call and sighed. Groceries. Laundry. Dinner. Everyday, mundane topics. That was what they’d been doing all week, focusing on the mundane to keep from thinking about last weekend’s romp with Cassie. To avoid talking about it.
