by Brenda Novak
But he wasn’t the least bit overbearing right now. In fact, she felt him tremble slightly as he pressed his hand against the bare skin at the small of her back. And his kiss... God, it was good. There was no force behind it. It was an invitation, a sample of what he was willing to offer.
As his lips moved over hers lightly, gently, she got the impression that he was being careful not to spook her. He was giving her just enough physicality to determine whether she’d accept and respond.
So when she slid her arms around his neck and clenched her hands in his hair, she could tell he was surprised—but not unpleasantly so. She heard him groan as she opened her mouth and their tongues met, turning the kiss into something far more powerful and satisfying.
Several seconds later, as they both gasped for breath, he pulled her up against him again. And this time she could feel his rock-hard erection.
“I—I made dinner,” she managed to say.
It was her one and only attempt to turn the world right-side-up again. But that didn’t deter him.
She would’ve been disappointed if it had. She was so aroused all she could think of was how desperately she wanted to feel him push inside her—to fill her completely and, if only for a moment, stop the ache of loneliness and heartbreak that had pursued her for so long.
“I have everything I want right here,” he said and slid his hand up under her sweater.
As soon as he touched her, she let her head drop back and closed her eyes. It was then that she realized why she’d left Lorelei, Lucy and Reagan behind and gone to so much work before he arrived.
She’d wanted this all along.
* * *
lorelei
Finn was away for the night. He’d driven around to the south side of the lake to meet a friend who’d moved from LA to Sacramento last year. He’d invited her and Reagan, but Lorelei knew that they were planning to go to a casino, which wasn’t any place she could take a child. And Reagan wasn’t feeling well. She hadn’t been throwing up, but she’d been sleeping all day and, when Lorelei went to check on her, she refused to eat.
“Can I get you anything?” Lorelei asked, still holding the rejected tray of soup and crackers she’d brought to Reagan’s room.
“No, I’ll be okay,” Reagan mumbled without lifting her head. “I just need some rest.”
With the blinds drawn so tightly, the room was pitch-black even though the sun hadn’t yet gone down. “But you’ve been sleeping since before Serenity and I went over to Finn’s last night, and I don’t think you’ve eaten anything. Should you see a doctor?”
“There’s nothing a doctor can do.”
“How do you know? What are your symptoms?”
After a slight hesitation, she said, “It’s just...”
“A migraine?” Lorelei guessed when Reagan couldn’t seem to come up with a good description of what was wrong.
“Yeah. A migraine,” she replied, seemingly relieved that Lorelei had made the answer easy for her.
“Those can be terrible. One of Mark’s sisters is bedridden for days whenever she gets one. Are you sure you don’t need a painkiller or something?”
Reagan responded but her words were so muffled Lorelei couldn’t make them out.
“What was that?”
“Already took some,” she repeated, her voice louder and more distinct.
“Oh. Okay. I’ll let you rest, then.”
After closing the door behind her, Lorelei carried the tray of food back to the kitchen, where Lucy was coloring at the table. “Where’s Aunt Reagan?” she asked as though she’d expected Lorelei to bring Reagan back with her.
“In bed.”
“Why?”
“She has a headache.”
“Where’s Aunt Serenity?”
“She’s at her other house.”
“What other house?”
“The one she normally lives in. This house is just a place where she comes for vacation, remember?”
Lucy put down the blue marker and picked up the red one. “When is she coming back?”
“Tomorrow.”
Lorelei was about to offer to let Lucy watch a movie when she was distracted by a text from Finn.
Reagan feeling any better?
Lorelei sank into the seat next to Lucy while she answered. Not really.
What’s wrong with her?
Migraine.
That sucks.
Have you met your friend yet?
Just waiting for him to arrive.
She wished she could’ve gone. She missed Finn already. Although they’d only known each other for a week, they’d spent a lot of time together. He was so easy to be around.
When will Davis be here tomorrow? she wrote.
Nolan isn’t exactly an early riser, he responded. Not unless he has to be. I’m guessing they won’t make it until dinner.
I’ll cook for everyone.
You don’t have to do that. I can manage.
You’re out tonight. It’ll be easier for me. And that will give you a good excuse to bring him over, so we can meet him.
I doubt he’ll be willing to leave the house. Can you all come to my place? If you’ll make the meal, I’ll get the wine and the dessert.
Sounds good.
She was sliding her phone back into her pocket when it buzzed with a text from Francine.
Why she hadn’t blocked the woman, she didn’t know. She should’ve done it the second she learned Francine was pregnant with Mark’s baby. She’d wanted to. But if she took Mark back, she’d essentially be taking Francine back, too, because of the baby. She supposed that was why she hadn’t bothered. She still hadn’t fully decided what she was going to do.
Are you really seeing someone else?
Mark had obviously been talking to her. Why wouldn’t he? Lorelei had told him he could see her. She’d even suggested Francine move into the house with him.
Had she?
Are you living with Mark now? she wrote back.
No, of course not. Why would I be living with Mark? You live there!
I told him it was fine with me if you moved in. Just box up my stuff and put it in the garage.
It was the first time she’d responded, no matter what Francine had sent, but waiting so long didn’t seem to be making the situation any easier. She wasn’t over anything. Her initial shock had just turned to red-hot anger. She wanted to strike out, to hurt Francine the way Francine had hurt her.
I’m not going to move in with your husband, came the reply.
So that would be going too far?
Francine ignored Lorelei’s sarcasm and came back with, He loves you. And so do I.
Lorelei’s chest grew tight. This had been her best friend. She’d trusted Francine with all her secrets. When she was frustrated with Mark and needed to vent, she’d turned to Francine.
Now she felt that Francine had exploited any weakness she’d revealed in their marriage. Bullshit, Lorelei wrote.
It’s true, Lorelei. We didn’t mean for this to happen.
Her phone rang; Francine was calling. But Lorelei wasn’t about to answer. She knew she’d only hear the same excuses Francine had already left via several messages on her voice mail. Besides, Lorelei had no idea how she might respond. She didn’t want Lucy to overhear a conversation that was bound to turn ugly.
Lucy is here, she texted after rejecting the call.
What does that mean?
I can’t talk to you. I’d rather she didn’t hear what I have to say.
Which is...what? You hate me now?
Lorelei felt zero empathy for Francine despite that frowny face. Hate isn’t nearly a strong enough word for what I feel toward you.
Ouch, Lorelei!
It’s true.
No, you can’t mean it. We’ve b
een best friends since college. Let’s not let this cost all of us more than it has to!
You should’ve thought of that before you climbed into bed with my husband.
If you’ll just come back, we can work it out.
She sounded like Mark. I’m not coming back.
Ever? What about Lucy? You can’t take her from her father. I can’t believe you’d even consider breaking up your marriage.
Almost any wife would consider breaking up her marriage if her husband was fucking her best friend, don’t you think?
“Mommy, what’s wrong?”
Lorelei glanced up to see her daughter watching her in confusion and smoothed her expression. “Nothing, honey.”
“Is it Daddy?” Lucy asked, unconvinced and worried.
“No, it’s not Daddy.” Attempting a smile, Lorelei touched her daughter’s cheek. A second later, her phone buzzed again.
You think being crude and hating me is going to help the situation?
Francine had become very religious lately. Obviously, she didn’t approve of Lorelei’s language, which was pretty ironic considering what she’d done, but Lorelei didn’t point that out. There were more important things that needed to be said. No, nothing is going to help the situation. You betrayed me in the worst possible way, and we can’t fix it now.
So that’s it? You’re just going to write me off? Our friendship is over?
Lorelei’s heart pounded as she stared down at those words. Was it over? Did she dare make that declaration?
She was tempted to do it, to reject these people who’d hurt her so badly. But the ramifications would be huge, and she knew it. She’d be on her own again for the first time since she’d met Mark—and this time she’d have a kid to take care of.
She’d be facing her worst fears—what she’d faced in some ways, as a child—trying to forge a good life with no family. She had two sisters now, but she’d only known them for a short while. While she liked them, she didn’t dare rely on the hope that they’d be there for her like regular sisters.
She had to make the decision assuming she’d face the worst-case scenario, not the best.
It would be terrifying for her. For years Mark had been her bulwarks against the world. But after so much had happened, would she be any happier going back to him than striking out on her own?
No.
It is over, she wrote.
You don’t mean that, Francine replied.
Actually, I do.
What about your marriage?
Lorelei stared at this question for so long Lucy climbed off the chair and started tugging on her arm to go into the living room and put on a movie. But after telling her daughter to give her a moment, she drew a deep breath, set her jaw and typed, That’s over, too. Mark’s all yours now. I hope you’ll both be happy.
The response didn’t come immediately. Lorelei sat with her heart in her throat for a full three minutes, which felt more like three hours. Was Francine not going to respond?
We could never be happy without you, her ex-best friend finally wrote.
The lump in Lorelei’s throat grew until it threatened to choke her. You’ve made it impossible for me to be happy with you, she wrote back. Then she slid her phone in her pocket and watched Lucy, who’d given up on a movie and gone back to coloring, while waiting for the avalanche of pain and regret she expected to sweep over her.
Had she done the right thing? Would she regret taking this turn in life? What would it mean for Lucy?
She had no answers, but she suspected her newfound determination to end her marriage might have as much to do with Finn as it did Francine.
21
serenity
SAWYER MADE LOVE as expertly as he did everything else. Serenity had to admit there was nothing lazy or selfish about him. She liked the way he touched her so much she spent hours in bed with him before suggesting they eat. Even after they polished off the dinner she’d prepared—at almost three o’clock in the morning—they went right back to her room.
Although she’d ignored her attraction to him, tried to pretend it didn’t exist in the first place, there’d been so much sexual tension between them during the past year, maybe even longer, she supposed it was bound to come to this eventually.
But now what?
She hoped he’d make this morning easy on both of them and just get up, find that box of Sean’s pictures in the basement and leave. Then she wouldn’t have to think about what they’d done. Through all the years Serenity had known Sawyer, he’d only ever had one steady girlfriend, and he hadn’t seemed particularly committed, even to her. Serenity doubted it would trouble him to say thanks for a fun night and walk away.
But he didn’t seem to be in any hurry.
“Hey,” he said, nudging her.
Pretending she hadn’t been lying awake thinking for the past fifteen minutes or so, she acted slightly befuddled when she rolled over and looked up at him. His hair was mussed, and he had a shadow of beard growth covering his jaw, but he’d never been more appealing to her.
Somehow that didn’t help.
She resisted the urge to draw his mouth back to hers; she had to put an end to this at some point. “Morning.”
“It’s getting late,” he said.
She covered a yawn. “How late?”
“Ten thirty. I texted my mother—Sean’s mother—that I’d have those pictures to her last night.” He checked his phone, which he’d put on the nightstand at some point. “She’s blowing up my phone because I didn’t come by.”
“Do you need to go? I can scramble some eggs really fast so you don’t leave hungry.”
“That’s okay. We didn’t get much sleep last night. You stay in bed. I just wanted to say goodbye.”
“I don’t mind getting up.” She held the sheet to her chest as she searched the floor for her underwear, but she remembered that they, along with her other clothes, were in the living room, where she’d kicked them off.
She glanced at the dresser, gauging the distance. She hadn’t minded Sawyer seeing her naked last night. They’d even eaten naked—or mostly naked; she’d pulled on his T-shirt for warmth—and then showered together. But for some reason, she was more self-conscious about her nudity this morning. Sex was one thing. She could relegate a heated sexual encounter to its own folder in her brain. Other forms of intimacy were more frightening because they lasted much longer and impacted the world she dealt with every day.
His forehead creased as he watched her deliberate. “You’re acting distant this morning,” he pointed out. “Is there a reason?”
“I’m not being distant,” she said, “just polite. There’s nothing wrong with polite, is there?”
“Coming from you? Yes. You’ve never been polite to me,” he said dryly.
“Because you’re always challenging me,” she retorted.
His teeth flashed in the smartass smile she remembered seeing now and then over the years. “You like it when I challenge you.”
“No, I’d like to be able to beat you at something,” she corrected. “But you’re too damn good, doesn’t matter what we try.”
She expected him to keep the banter going. She liked it; it prevented the conversation from getting too serious. But he sobered. “Is that so?” he said. “Because I think you have me at a disadvantage right now.”
She scoffed as she looked over at him. “In what way?”
“I’d like to see you again,” he said simply, honestly.
Serenity forced herself to get out of bed, even though he was still there. “Last night was the first time I’ve been touched by a man in eighteen months, Sawyer,” she said as she took a pair of panties from her drawer. “That it was my ex-husband’s brother, someone so familiar with the recent past and all the terrible memories associated with it, isn’t something I really want to acknowledge.�
�
He studied her for several seconds.
“You’re not going to respond?” she said.
“What can I say? Sean caused those memories, not me. But you already know that. And I’m not related to him. You know that, too.”
“In a way you are. He’s how we met.”
“Don’t let that hang you up.”
“It’s not only that.” She pulled on a sweatshirt that fell just below her panties. “I’m in the middle of another problem, and it could turn out to be as devastating as what I went through with Sean. So I can’t take any chances right now. I need to be cautious, smart.”
He got out of bed, too, completely unconcerned with his nudity, went to the living room and came back with his clothes. “Are you talking about having trouble writing?”
“No, but I’m not out of the woods there, either.”
“So what is it?”
“It involves my family.”
He put on his boxers. “You won’t tell me what’s going on?”
She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her knees into her chest as she watched him stuff his legs into his jeans.
“Serenity?” he prompted as he buttoned his fly.
Should she tell him? She couldn’t see any harm in it. He didn’t have any contact with her parents or siblings, and she felt fairly confident he wouldn’t tell anyone in Sean’s family. Why would he? None of them were speaking to him; the rift might well turn out to be a permanent one. “I took a DNA test not too long ago, just to see how it all works—for my writing—and got a big surprise.”
He froze. “Don’t tell me you were adopted...”
She rested her chin on her knees. “It’s possible. I don’t know yet. All I know right now is that I was contacted by a woman only two years younger than me who lives in Florida, claiming to be my half sister.”
“Have you checked out her story? Is it true?”
“It is. And that’s not all.”
He sat down next to her. “What else could there be?”
“We have another sister—this one only six months younger than me. She lives in New York.”
