Carved in Stone (26 page)

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Authors: Donna McDonald

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #General Fiction

BOOK: Carved in Stone
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Michael heard the front door click and knew she had gone. He had known better than to try to stop her. It was obvious Carrie couldn’t wait to be away from him after what she’d shared. He got a beer out of the refrigerator, sat at the table, and drank it while he stared at the half a glass of water she’d left behind.

He thought of his father curled up in the bed upset over wrongs he’d imagined he done to a woman he cared about. His sympathy to that situation grew a hundred-fold.

Certainly his reaction to Carrie getting married each time had not been good, and he’d gone a little overboard with dating to forget her each time. But no one he’d dated over the last three years had meant anything to him. His fondness for Erin, who until tonight he had considered a good friend, had now dimmed as well with finding out she’d been so indiscreet.

Only being with Carrie had ever felt right to him. She was the woman he ached for as his Dad would say. At least he now knew there was a fire in Carrie Addison that burned just as hotly for him. Two husbands and a potential third hadn’t been able to keep her out of his arms a month ago. Michael intended to find out what it was that drew them together over and over no matter what they did.

Maybe he couldn’t change the past, Michael decided, but he could definitely bend and shape the present.

One way or another, he was going to be Carrie Addison’s next husband, even if only for the next seven or eight months. During that time, Michael would try to balance his karmic debt to her with kindness and support. Then after the baby was born, if she still wanted to leave, Michael would find the courage to give her a divorce and help her find whatever life she wanted without him and the baby.

As Michael drank the rest of his beer, he thought of the pile of metal rings in the courtyard. It was ironic that he had been creating the four-foot-tall sculpture of multiple wedding bands to remind Carrie of her multiple marriages.

Now Michael was putting himself next in line to become one of her husbands, and it wasn’t so damn amusing anymore. His arrogance had burned to ashes in the same fire source that created his child.

So instead of having the lazy day he’d intended tomorrow, Michael decided he was going to buy the purest gold he could find and make a set of matching wedding rings. In the metal he would etch the truth and hope Carrie would be seduced by his art one more time.

Chapter 17

 

Will woke in the dark and heard someone calling out in panic. It took a couple moments for him to realize that what had awakened him was Jessica tossing and turning in the bed beside him. She was having a dream and calling out in distress.

“No. Please. Don’t do this. I’m married. Nathan—Nathan,” she called, finally lapsing into gut-wrenching tears.

Will put one arm over her for comfort, trying to avoid restraining her.

“Jessica,” he called loudly, scared and hurting for the torment she was in. “Jessica, wake up. Honey, you’re dreaming.”

Jessica opened her eyes and flinched away from Will, then relaxed again as her vision cleared and focused on him.

“Oh, God. That was awful,” she said, patting Will’s arm across her. “That hasn’t happened to me in a really long time. Thank you for waking me up.”

Will cradled her in his arms, holding her as tightly to him as he dared. “You were calling for your husband,” he said.

“Yes,” Jessica agreed hoarsely. “It’s a dream I’ve had many times before. It’s just been a while since the last time.”

“You tried to think of Nathan during the rape?” Will asked softly, lifting his arm from her stomach, to let his hand stroke back her hair.

Jessica waited a long time before answering. “Yes. But it didn’t make any difference. They wouldn’t stop. One of them knew Nathan was dead.”

Will fought back the surge of anger he felt. This was not the time to express it. Jessica needed relief, not to be worried about him.

“Well, I can see why you would call for Nathan,” Will said, softly rubbing her arms and tucking the cover over her bare shoulders. “I’m sure your husband would have stopped it from happening if he could have. I’m sure he’s been grateful for every good man you’ve known since. In fact, I am absolutely, positively sure of that because I feel the same way now. I’m not jealous of your past anymore.”

Tears ran down both sides of Jessica’s face and into her hair. Will’s words were a soothing salve to the newly reopened wound in her.

“I thought all the remembering was behind me. I haven’t thought about the rape or Nathan in years. It’s just that you—,” Jessica stopped herself from the comparison.

“It’s okay. You can say it—I remind you of your husband,” Will finished.

“Yes,” Jessica said, tears making her voice thick. Her heart hurt for being unfair to Will.

Will looked at her tears, and they called to him for a solution. So he opened his mind and found one. He could listen and be her friend.

“Tell me about what it was like to be with your husband,” Will whispered, kissing her shoulder in the dark.

“I can’t do that,” Jessica protested. “It’s not fair to you, and I just—can’t.”

“What happened wasn’t fair to you or Nathan. Screw fair,” Will told her. “I’m not going to be jealous of a good woman who loved a good man. And you have a right to those memories. Tell me how he made love to you, Jessica. What did your husband do?”

“I’m not going to talk to you about this. Besides, I don’t remember anymore,” Jessica denied, tears burning and flowing. It was even partly true. She and Nathan had been barely more than children when they were married.

“Let’s start with little things,” Will coaxed. “How did Nathan kiss you?” Jessica was quiet for so long, Will thought she might have fallen back to sleep. He stroked her hair again. “Tell me, honey. How did your husband kiss you?”

“He kissed me like he had to or go crazy,” Jessica replied at last, the words burning her throat.

“Okay. That makes perfect sense. Now tell me the favorite move he did with you,” Will encouraged, rubbing her arms.

“I can’t,” Jessica said, shaking her head. “I can’t talk to you about what I’ve done with other men.”

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t want to know about what you did with Steve Lipton, but I absolutely want to hear about Nathan Daniels. It’s a contextual interest. Dip into that honesty you’re always bragging about and tell me,” Will said firmly, his hands on her more insistent than before to keep her from turning away.

Jessica closed her eyes and let the ragged sigh she’d been holding back escape.

“Nathan would hold my breast and thumb the nipple to make it hard while he French-kissed me,” Jessica said, feeling evidence of Will’s arousal pressing against her leg and his chuckle in her ear. She sighed wistfully at how simple it all sounded and how comforted she felt in Will’s embrace. “We weren’t very advanced then.”

“It’s still a great move,” Will said frankly, his hand finding her breast and cupping it lightly. “Anything else?”

Her silence told him there was, so he pressed.

“How aggressive was he in getting inside you?” Will whispered the question.

“He—he wasn’t as careful as—he usually just made sure I was really ready and then slid inside in one move,” Jessica admitted.

Will laughed softly. “Damn impatient young men.”

Jessica laughed and sniffled in return. “It had its charms at the time.”

Will kissed Jessica’s teary eyes. “The joys of youth, right? What did your husband call you in bed, Jessica?”

“I can’t tell you that—besides, it’s embarrassing,” she said, her voice breaking in shame.


Jessica
,” Will said firmly, in a tone that normally got compliance from most people. “Answer my question.”


Luscious
,” Jessica admitted softly. “Nathan called me that because he said he liked the way I tasted.”

“Well damn—no wonder you get us confused, it’s uncanny how much he and I are alike,” Will commented, making Jessica laugh.

“Yes, and you both talk way too much during sex,” Jessica said hoarsely, half-laughing, half-crying. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

Will bit his lip to keep from sighing. Despite what he promised, he was now officially jealous of a dead man. “You are a very sexy and amazing woman, Jessica Daniels. Nathan was a lucky man to have a wife who loved him as much as you did. I bet you loved him back just as much.”

“Yes,” Jessica said, voice choking with the tears she couldn’t stop. “I loved him. I truly loved him.”

“Of course you did,” Will said quietly, holding her as she cried and grieved.

Unfortunately, the heartfelt declaration of love wasn’t something Will had been expecting to hear her say about any other man but him. Jessica had told Will she had never loved any man since her husband, but it was still damn hard to hear how easily Jessica had said those words about Nathan Daniels. Having insisted on the conversation, Will had no one to blame but himself for how disappointed it made him feel.

Jessica cried herself softly to sleep while Will held her close in the dark. He wondered what his chances for a future were with a woman who was still very much another man’s wife in her heart.

***

 

They went for a long bike ride through the horse farms on the way to eat breakfast Sunday morning. Will enjoyed having Jessica pressed intimately along the back of him, so he let his sense of contentment override his other concerns.

He had awakened to a fully dressed Jessica kissing his jaw line and teasing him about sleeping his life away. Seeing her smiling but still anxious expression, he’d quickly decided to put aside what happened in the night, telling himself he would think about it later. Jessica looked and acted mostly okay, and that was the most important thing, even if she still wasn’t her typical carefree and happy self.

Until the anxiety left her, he wasn’t going to discuss what had been said in the dark. He wasn’t sure he was ready to hear how Jessica felt about her dead husband, especially if she still longed for him. Instead, Will decided to focus only on enjoying the bike ride and just being with her.

They pulled into a local organic restaurant in Midway known for its great food and fun atmosphere. When Will turned off the bike, Jessica climbed off and removed her helmet, shaking her hair loose. She bent to the mirror to check her appearance and grimaced at what she saw. Will grinned and pulled the ink pen from his pocket that she had used before to secure her hair. The beaming smile Jessica gave him was all the reward he could have asked for.

“My hero,” Jessica said, taking the ink pen from Will and grinning.

“It hasn’t been out of my pocket since you gave it back. I hope you know it was really hard to ride away from you that day knowing you were upset with me,” Will told her.

She twirled her hair up and leaned into Will for a thank-you kiss as she slid the ink pen into her hair.

“Resourceful men on sexy black bikes are impossible to resist for long,” she told him, clutching his shirt front for a moment. “Especially tall, handsome ones offering to pay for breakfast.”

“Speaking of breakfast, I smell something with bacon,” Will said, his stomach growling. “Or is that a new perfume you’re wearing?”

“No way. If I bought something to wear here, it would smell like a giant blueberry muffin—split, buttered, and grilled,” Jessica informed him, “and probably would have strong fragrance notes of some sort of flavored coffee.”

Will laughed and took her hand as they went inside. They talked and laughed over breakfast and joked with other restaurant patrons who couldn’t help staring at the striking, tall, older couple dressed in motorcycle gear.

“So how long you two been married?”

Jessica paused mid-bite of her muffin and froze at the question someone across from them was asking. Her gaze went to Will’s, which was on her and not on the elderly gentleman asking the question.

After a short while, Will turned his gaze to the man’s and answered smoothly. “Sometimes it feels like thirty years. Sometimes it feels like two months.”

The man laughed and shook his head at Will’s answer. Jessica swallowed the muffin bite, but had to chase it with coffee still hot enough to burn her tongue.

“That’s honest, don’t you think?” Will finally asked Jessica, taking a bite of his breakfast sandwich while he waited to see what she would say.

Just like that—whether they were ready to discuss it or not—their talk last night was hanging out there between them, demanding to be acknowledged, demanding to be put to rest somehow. Only Jessica didn’t know how to put it to rest. It had awakened her at 5 a.m., and she had mentally worked two hours on setting it aside just so she wouldn’t brood about it today.

Jessica stared at Will as she sipped her coffee, debating on how honestly to reply to what he said. Since she didn’t know how to answer in a way Will would understand, she turned and smiled at the man who asked the original question.

“I made the mistake of confessing to Will that he reminded me of my husband who died thirty years ago. I don’t know if he’s ever going to let me forget it. The truth is Will and I have only known each for a couple of months,” Jessica said lightly, breaking off another bite of muffin to stuff in her mouth to stop herself from saying more.

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