“Yes. Of course I would,” she breathed. But something about the way he’d kissed her, the way he was whispering, the way he was looking at her, had her so rattled she couldn’t think straight. She was a pinch away from hiccupping from nerves. Her. The woman who could probably get a Ph.D. in laidback. “I need to go back to my class.”
“I know you do.”
“We’ll talk later.”
“Oh, yeah,” he murmured. “I know you’ve got work today. But we’re definitely going to talk again. And soon.”
She stumbled back toward her class, thinking, all right, now she knew that Fergus had an ugly, evil side to him. A manipulative, wicked side. A side that turned her mind to jam and her sanity to jelly.
He talked to her as if they were lovers. Which, she guessed, they were. But she’d emotionally shut the door on believing they could make it long-term. She’d hoped—she admitted that she’d fiercely hoped—things might have turned out differently. But when he’d praised her for being “so sexy,” she’d felt her heart thud like the clunk of a coin down a long, dark well.
He wanted her, she didn’t doubt that. But sex, even great sex, was just no measure that he seriously valued or respected her.
Nothing had changed. She had fiercely wanted to heal Fergus—to be the one to make a difference for him—and every day, every week, she’d literally seen her efforts working. He was so, so much better, mentally, physically and emotionally. She wasn’t the only one responsible for that, but Phoebe gave herself credit for playing a key role.
That was what mattered. Getting him healed. Not what she wanted. Not what she dreamed.
She stomped back into the class and blurted, “Damn it. We are going torelax, class!”
The moms all looked at her as if she were crazy—until someone laughed. And then she tried to laugh, too.
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Ten
When Fox pulled into her driveway, Phoebe had to put up with two solid minutes of whining and begging from Mop and Duster. “I know it’s Fox, you guys, but you can’t go. It’s not our truck. And it’s raining. And you know I won’t leave you alone for long. Come on, you two. Be reasonable.”
The dogs had heard all that. They also knew they had the dog door open to the whole backyard, and that their dishes in the kitchen were heaped with food and fresh water. They just didn’t want Phoebe to leave, and they loved being with Fergus, besides.
So did she—which was the problem. She pulled her rain jacket hood over her head to run outside.
Grumbling clouds swirled, leaking more drizzle than rain for now, but warning that worse was coming.
Even at four in the afternoon it was darker than winter, with moments of sudden stillness and then moments when the fresh green leaves suddenly trembled and tossed in fretful anticipation.
Lightning crackled just as she reached the door of his SUV and slammed inside.
“I was coming in to get you—”
“Well, that would have been silly. Then both of us would have gotten wet.” She tossed her jacket in the backseat. The wipers and defroster had to be on because of the foggy steam, but underneath all that threat of storm, the temperature was muggy and close. She should have worn her hair up, she thought, and her long-sleeved green tee was probably going to be too warm, as well. “You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”
For the first time, she glance at Fox, then quickly away. That was the trick, she mused. If she just didn’t look at those mesmerizing eyes, that sexy narrow mouth, thatlook of him, too hard, too long, she’d be able to keep some emotional distance.
“I’m not trying to be mysterious. I just wanted to show you a place. If I told you about it first, I was afraid it’d color your reaction, so I just wanted you to see it. And I promise, it’s not a long drive.”
“I couldn’t believe how much work you’d gotten done on the waterfall over the weekend.”
“Yeah…even working around the hours you need the room, I should have it done by the end of the week.”
She’d guessed that. She’d also guessed that Fergus was likely to call off their relationship completely when the project was done—partly because he was at the end of her recovery program for him as well.
She had one more intensive exercise she wanted to work with him on, but Phoebe could see for herself that he was totally on the right track. Maybe he wasn’t ox strong quite yet, but his shoulders and arms had regained all their muscle tone. He moved with virile, vital purpose again, energy, stamina.
He didn’t need her anymore.
“You haven’t mentioned having a bad headache in over a week,” she said. “You’re sleeping better?”
He shot her a look. “How about if we talk about how you’re sleeping instead?”
Not well without him, but she could hardly say that when both of them avoided mentioning ever making love, as if saying it aloud would bite them in the butt. She said, “Okay, I get it. I won’t hound you about Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
your health for a whole two hours, okay?”
“Good. I’ll hold you to it.” He peered out the windshield. “Damn. I really want you to see this place.
Maybe the rain’ll quit.”
That seemed as likely as cows flying, judging from the hissing wind and angry sky, but it wasn’t as if driving were dangerous. The blacktop glistened as they took the twisting, curling road out of Gold River.
Slopes turned into hills, then climbed into more mountainous terrain.
He was right. It wasn’t a far drive. He turned down a gravel road that led eventually to…nothing. Where he stopped and braked, she saw a long expanse of meadow, carpeted in wildflowers, leading to a creek that splashed silver in the rain. Boulders on the other side led up to a hillside of rich, emerald-green trees.
“What do you think?”
She cocked her head curiously, unsure what he wanted her to say. Her first thought was that the wondrous place resembled the safe haven he’d described in the first exercise they’d done together…but she couldn’t imagine that had any relevance to why he’d brought her here—or what he wanted her to say. “It’s gorgeous.”
He didn’t exactly look disappointed, but something in his expression changed. Suddenly his gaze looked…careful, and his shoulders stiffened with tension. “Yeah, it’s pretty. But what can you picture here? I mean, try to imagine it if it weren’t raining and gloomy. If the sun were shining down on the water and the mountainside…”
“I think it’s gorgeous in the rain and would be even more beautiful in the sunshine.” She spoke truthfully but couldn’t seem to think. He obviously wanted her to react in some way, yet she had no clue what he wanted from her.
He turned off the engine and just leaned back, staring out the window instead of at her. “I’ve been thinking about moving. I haven’t minded being by my mom, but…I just want my own place. I rented before. That seemed the simplest choice when I didn’t have the time or interest in maintaining a place of my own. But now…the idea of a home is a lot more appealing.”
She could see his profile, the strong nose, the sharp eyes, but nothing in his expression gave away what he was feeling. “You feel up to making a major move?”
“I know I’m not moving at racehorse speed yet, but yeah. I’m getting there.” He hesitated, as if hoping she’d comment more, but again she felt an attack of nerves.
She’d never been short of opinions, and she’d easily offered them to Fox before, but it was different now. The times they’d made love stood between them like a velvet wall. He didn’t refer to them. Neither did she.
She knew how to communicate using touch. But she didn’t know the words he wanted to hear.
And when she still said nothing, he filled in. “Phoebe, I wasn’t trying to lead you into saying something I wanted to hear. But I was specifically thinking about building a house. Right here. I own this property
, have for a while. What do you think about it for a home site?”
“I think it’d be gorgeous,” she said, and then realized that seemed to be the only word that kept coming Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
out of her mouth.
He motioned. “Probably put the kitchen there—facing east—with big glass doors leading to a deck, so a body could sit outside, eating their grapefruit, sipping their morning coffee.” He waited, then went on.
“Then I could see an octagonal room, glass walls—the great room facing the mountains and creek. The sun would come in there too strong, but we could fix that by using solar windows. Put the master bedroom upstairs. Make it a solid north wall, but put windows east and west, so the room would get the sunrise in the morning, the sunset in the evening.”
When he paused again, she said, “It couldn’t sound better, Fergus. It’s a beautiful plan.”
“Can you picture the house ideas?”
“You bet.”
“Could you picture living in a house like that?”
She frowned. “Sure. Who couldn’t? It sounds like a dream house. But…I’m not sure it’d be a good idea for you to be out this far in the woods alone, do you?”
“You’ve got that right. I don’t want to live alone anymore.” He fell completely silent then, scraping a hand through his hair and then, for a few seconds, squeezing his eyes closed.
“Damn,” she murmured. “I knew something was wrong. You’re getting a headache, aren’t you.”
“Not a headache. I just…” He opened his eyes. He suddenly looked so despairing, so frustrated.
“Phoebe, I…”
“No,”she said swiftly. “I can see you’re hurting. Bad hurting. Don’t talk. Just turn around for me, Fox.
Face the side window.”
“You don’t understand. I wanted to—”
“No talking! I mean it!” Energy surged through her. She knew what to do when he was hurting. Anything was better than those strange moments when he kept waiting and waiting, clearly counting on her to say something and her failing to come through. Whatever that had been about mattered, but if Fox was hurting,that took precedence over any and everything else.
“Lean forward,” she said quietly, firmly. “I told you before, I had another exercise I wanted to give you.
It’s like the first one we did. An exercise you can use whenever you’re in pain or stressed. Not just for now but whenever you feel stressed.…”
He turned toward the driver’s window—not at a perfect angle, but good enough. She knelt behind him—again not easy to do from her seat, but she could manage. Thankfully he was wearing an old, loose sweatshirt that she could push out of the way. She closed her eyes when she felt his warm, supple skin under her fingertips again. Maybe she had no oils to work with today, no soothing warm water, no props. But she had her hands, to knead into his hair, into his nape, around his temples and forehead. And she had her heart, her love, to convey through the sense of touch.
“Okay now, Fox,” she whispered, “this is called the rainbow exercise. I want you to picture yourself standing at the beginning of a giant tunnel that’s entirely made of color—”
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“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
She considered taking a small nip out of his shoulder, but that would be too loverlike. A headache was serious business. Healing him was no joke. “Just go along with me, okay?”
“Okay.” He used that patronizing tone men used on women when they were pretending to be patient, but she didn’t care. She’d won what she needed. His attention.
“Okay, now close your eyes and imagine this rainbow tunnel. Just like with a real rainbow, the first part is red. You’re going to take an imaginary step inside where it’s all red, Fox. I want you to feel that red, smell it, taste it, touch it. There’s huge energy in that color, isn’t there? Passion. Anger. High emotion…
“And then we’re going to keep walking, slowly, into our rainbow. We’re going to walk past the red into orange. Feel how bright and colorful and splashy the orange is? And now we’re walking into yellow. All warm and healing and sunny. A happy color, yes? And you’re feeling washed in that yellow. Drenched in that yellow. It’s bathing you from head to toe.…”
She rubbed and stroked, his head, his temples, playing out the rainbow exercise, talking softly, soothingly. Lovingly. She could feel the knots in his neck start to ease. Feel those big strong shoulders give up some of their tension.
He was such a sucker for a head rub. Again she felt her heart surge. It was such a simple joy—knowing that she was the one who could reach him. Knowing she was the one person who could relax him, whom he could trust enough to be himself with, to let down his heart with.
“The green is so beautiful, isn’t it? You can almost smell all the green things—the grass and leaves. The emerald is so alive, so full of life. But then, at last we come to blue, Fox. A deep, rich royal blue…but not dark. This is a clear blue. This is the blue color that makes you think of peace. There’s no stress in this blue. No worries. No fears. Feel the blue, Fox?”
“Yup, I feel your damn blue, red.”
She grinned and dropped her hands. “Okay…that’s it. Just kind of wake up from this slowly. How’s the headache?”
Slowly he lifted his head. Slowly he turned around. She was still crouched on her knees, waiting to see his face, to study how he was doing. The storm clouds had thundered on, but it was still raining outside—a clean, soaking downpour that hissed in the leaves and washed down the meadow. She could see his face much clearer now, and the intensity in his expression startled her.
“What did he do to you, Phoebe?”
“What?”
“The guy. The jerk you were engaged to. What did he do to you? And no ducking out this time. You promised that you’d try to be as honest with me as I was with you. You promised you’dtry. And I told you what happened to me.”
She sucked in a breath, feeling suddenly at a loss. “I didn’t heal your headache? The exercise didn’t work?”
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“Red, you’ve been healing me from the day I met you. How about giving me a shot?”
“At what?”
“At helping you heal this time,” he said softly, and then repeated insistently, “What did the son of a gun do to you?”
She clicked up the lock and pushed out the door. She could have grabbed her jacket, but at the moment she just didn’t care. Rain sloshed down, not hard, but too relentlessly to escape it. It slithered in her hair, matted her eyelashes.
Still she took off, hiking fast, and only moments later realized that Fox had caught up and was keeping pace beside her. He said nothing, just walked with her, getting as soaked as she was.
“Darn it, Fox! It’s not something I can explain. Not to a man.”
“Then forget I’m a man and just think of me as a friend.”
“For Pete’s sake. Ido think of you as a friend. But I’ll never forget you’re a man in this life. No woman would.”
“Um, I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.”
“It’s just a statement of fact.”
He said quietly, “Find a way to tell me.”
Like it was that easy. And damnation, but the warm rain was squishing in her shoes now, and making her long hair feel heavier than a rope.
Besides, she didn’t know where to start. “In high school…I went out with a lot of boys. Always had a good time. But also always pulled back before it went too far. I just really wanted to save it for the right guy. Girls still believe there’ll be one perfect guy for them when they’re in high school. Or some of us still did—”
“Okay.”
“So anyway. That was the point. That I’d waited. That I thought Alan was The One. So when we got engaged…”
Fox was
n’t going to waste time on euphemisms. “You did the deed. And he hurt you?”
“No.”
“He scared you somehow?”
“No. Nothing like that. It went great.”
“So…”
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She turned on him in a fury. “If you catch cold from this walk because of me, I’m going to shoot you myself.”
“Threat accepted. So go on.”
She lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “So that was the problem. That it went great. I didn’t understand at first. We were engaged. Why would he be unhappy if things were going well when the lights went out? Yet from that first night, he started pulling back.”
Ahead, a rabbit hopped into their path, stared at them and then hopped back under cover like any sane animal would have done.
“I guess you could say I got more adventurous. I was…blind. This whole part of life seemed…great to me. Natural. Wonderful. And I believed I loved him, so there was nothing I wasn’t willing to think about or talk about or try.”
“And?”
“And he was repulsed.”
“Say what?”
“You heard me.”
“I couldn’t have,” Fox said bluntly.
She sighed. There was a time she thought nothing would mortify her, but trying to talk about this did. “I could claim that we both wanted to break the engagement, but the truth is…he wanted out. It’s not like he didn’t want to keep sleeping with me, but he shut me off any time I brought up marriage plans after that. The better it got between the sheets, the less he trusted me. Anything I said or tried to say, somehow I ended up feeling dirty. Amoral.”
“Phoebe, we may have to run through this again, because something’s wrong with my hearing.
Somethinghas to be wrong, because I couldn’t possibly be hearing what you’re telling me.”
“I know you’re trying to be funny. And it is, in a way. There’s nothing new about the old double standard. It’s been around since the beginning of time. I’m not blaming him. I’m saying there was something ingrained in him. And maybe it’s ingrained in a lot of men and women. That women who are…sexy…must be of low moral character.”
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