Friends and Lovers (5 page)

“Thanks for the coffee,” she said, rolling down her window.

“You’re welcome. Let’s do it again sometime.”

She smiled, her head shaking ever so slightly. “We’ll see.”

“Tuesdays,” Wes reminded her.

“I’ll think about it.” She flashed a smile. “Good night, Wes.”

Then she was gone, but at least Wes had the wherewithal to focus on her license plate before she disappeared. He’d already discovered she wasn’t listed in the telephone book. Wes jumped into his car and jotted it down.

* * * *

Wes opened his refrigerator and took out the milk. Popping the top, he tipped it back and took a good long swig right from the carton. He came up for air with a sigh and snapped the cap back on, returning the container to the shelf.

Combing back his damp hair, he slammed the door, harder than intended. Brilliant! Taking out his frustrations on his appliance wasn’t going to melt the chilly icicle running through Lauren’s spine. She’d always been a cool female. For years he tried to shake the feeling she didn’t approve of him, but he wasn’t the same person anymore—little remained of the guy who’d earned her censure.

Truth be told, he was a cad and a pig back then. He deserved her criticism for being a slave to his over-stimulated gonads, but he never, not once, took advantage of anyone. He wasn’t a predator. The girls he slept with were all willing, experienced, and open to experimentation. Half the time they pursued him, and they knew better than to expect false promises, which worked for him because he wasn’t about to make them either.

But Lauren was different. He’d recognized it right away. She was a nice girl, a sweet girl. She wore her virginity like a locket around her neck, and picturing Lauren in pristine white cotton bikinis used to drive him crazier than all the silky panties he was used to tugging down in a heated moment. It was probably a good thing Sherry threatened his Camaro with retribution if he pursued Lauren his senior year. As much as Lauren drew him he wasn’t ready for a nice girl. It was too soon, and he had a lot to work out of his system first—an awful lot.

It was also pretty damn clear, had he broken his own rule about virgins back then, he wouldn’t have enjoyed a simple cup of coffee with her tonight. It was good he’d left her alone, but it didn’t mean he had to now. No, he was back for more reasons than he’d shared with anyone. He was back for Lauren, but he had to bide his time, prove himself to her, because she wasn’t ready to hear it. She was more guarded than he remembered, more serious.

Wes flipped off the light behind him and padded on bare feet to his bedroom. He pulled his dirty clothes off the top of the bed, tossed them carelessly into the laundry basket, then whipped back the covers. Slipping out of his sweats, the only thing he’d put on after his shower, he climbed into bed.

With his hands clasped behind his head, he stared up at the dark ceiling and pondered how to work through Lauren’s defenses. Could she ever feel comfortable around him now? That would take time and familiarity. He needed to gain her trust, her friendship, and he wasn’t making it any easier on himself by tossing sexually charged comments at her. Damn it! How difficult was it to remember he wasn’t a perverted teenager anymore? He snorted at himself in disgust. No, now he was a perverted thirty-three year old.
Way to go, slick!

Chapter 5

Sylvia Coulter waited for her husband Wayne to back out of the garage and leave for work before she went to draw herself a bath. While the water ran she dumped four pain pills into her hand and swallowed them down with a tepid water chaser. It hurt just swallowing, both inside and out. She swiped furiously at her eyes. Damned if she’d cry anymore. Tipping her chin up, Sylvia quietly studied her throat in the mirror. It was already ringed with bruises and slightly swollen. Wayne was particularly fond of choking her.

Lowering herself to test the water temperature, she moved like an old woman, unsteady, shaky, suffering pains not readily visible and others definitely visible. Her knees quaked and nearly buckled, and she had to grab onto the toilet to steady herself and work herself back up to a stand. Hands shaking, she untied her bathrobe. She hung it on the hook inside the door and stepped hesitantly into the water. This time, when her legs gave out, she didn’t fight it. Water splashed up the tile walls and flowed over the side and onto the floor. She didn’t care. It could wait.

It was painful to sit so Sylvia slid down, taking most of her weight on the flat of her bottom instead. She realized she was weeping again, but this time it wasn’t because of the pain—and the pain was excruciating—no, she was weeping for herself. It was always harder to stop the emotional sobs when they hit.

Everything hurt this morning. She wished the pain pills would kick in faster. She wondered idly if she could take them in advance. Front load the tablets so she was already slightly numb to the pain before the first blow. Would it work? Probably not. Wayne’s moods were so mercurial she wouldn’t see it coming anyway. She never knew in advance.

Sylvia’s head was pounding so violently she felt sick to her stomach. She was half terrified of retching in her condition, knowing her body couldn’t possibly take any more and knowing damn well her head couldn’t. Sometimes she wondered if it wouldn’t be better if he just shot her and ended her misery. She knew where his gun was. Maybe she should just do it herself.

There was a dull ache inside her, low, and it stabbed sharply if she moved wrong. The water beneath her was already blushing from the blood, but she was used to that. She’d learned not to fret about that.

At least her sister-in-law had her daughter Hope last night. Maybe she could keep her for another night. Sylvia hated it when the child heard their fights.

* * * *

A group of nearly twenty off-duty police officers streamed out of the Durban County courtroom and moved away from the doors so they could congratulate their colleague with warm words and slaps on the back. The noise they made echoed through the cavernous hall.

Smiling broadly, Wes turned to speak to one of his companions and caught sight of a pair of shapely legs walking down the marble staircase at the far end of the corridor. Something about them set off a familiar buzz inside him, and his attention was already fixed by the time the dark navy suit and briefcase appeared followed by Lauren’s lovely face.

Someone announced, “This calls for a celebration. Anyone not working tonight is invited to Delaney’s for a round.”

The man standing next to him asked, “Wes, you in?”

Wes cocked his head when he heard his name. Without taking his eyes off Lauren walking out through the double doors, he shook his head slowly. “Not sure yet. I might be busy. If not, I’ll meet you there.”

The man turned and followed Wes’s gaze then grinned to the others. “Skirt.”

There were sly comments and chuckles, but they barely registered as Wes excused himself and took off after her. He hit the doors running and got slammed by intense sunlight. Momentarily blinded, Wes shaded his eyes and bolted down the stairs.

“Lauren!”

She stopped and looked back, clearly startled to hear her name. “Wes?”

“Hey.” He smoothed down his tie and smiled. “What brings you downtown?”

“I had to make a statement in family court. Just finished. How about you?”

“A colleague was up for police brutality. A bunch of us came out to support him.”

Her startled reaction made him laugh. “No…God, no. The case was dismissed. It shouldn’t have made it this far because there were so many witnesses.”

“Well…good.”

Her awkward delicacy made Wes grin. “So, can I walk with you?”

“My car’s just over there.” She pointed to the curb down the block.

“Do you have to go back right away?”

“Why?”

He used his shoulder to point to the park across the street. “I’m off for the day and seeing you here I was kind of hoping I could talk you into taking a stroll with me.”

Wes held his breath as Lauren looked at him for a quiet moment before glancing at the park. Finally she said, “I have to see how much time is left on the meter first, and I’d like to drop off my briefcase and jacket.”

While he waited where he stood, Lauren went to lock her things in her car. When she walked back, the words
thank you, thank you, thank you,
thrummed through Wes’s head, because without her blazer, he could see right through her tantalizingly sheer blouse to the pretty silk camisole underneath. Clearly not wearing a bra, Lauren’s breasts jiggled and swayed gently with every step, the faint outline of her areolas and nipples growing more distinct the closer she got to him.

She bobbed to a stop and smiled up at him. Wes jerked his eyes back to Lauren’s and gave her a grateful smile in return.

“All set?” he asked.

“All set.”

They crossed with the light and passed into the shady oasis of flower beds and lush green grass. A grounds crew was trimming along the ornamental fence and the sound of at least two lawnmowers could be heard in the distance.

“You know, I hardly ever find the time to walk in this park anymore,” she said sadly.

“I don’t either.” His eyes slipped down to her blouse and Wes sighed. Without the direct sunshine it wasn’t transparent anymore. Bummer.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, shrugging off his disappointment.

She laughed lightly. “You mean since the other night? Fine. You?”

“Good.”

Wes put his hands in his pockets and jiggled his keys and change. She glanced over and smiled but didn’t say anything.

They strolled quietly toward the center of the park. Wes’s mind was on Lauren, but she seemed miles away. When they reached the fountain Lauren walked to one of the benches and sat down, facing it. Wes meandered over and settled beside her, his right elbow crooked over the back.

Lauren stared blankly at the fountain for several silent beats before saying softly, “Sarah’s husband’s parole hearing is coming up next month.”

One of his eyebrows arched up. “Are you going?”

She expelled a deep sigh. “That’s the plan. My parents can’t handle it, so I get to make the victim impact statement for us.”

“You could send it.”

“I know, but I want to see him, face him. He should know he’s not forgiven and never will be. I’m going to do everything in my power to keep him behind bars for his full and inadequate sentence.”

Wes picked his words carefully. “Of course you know once his sentence is served, technically he will be forgiven, at least from a legal standpoint.”

“It isn’t enough!” There was impotent fury in her voice. “He took two lives, after making them suffer hell first. It wasn’t an accident. Will stalked Sarah, terrorized her, yet he’s going to go free whether I can delay it or not. It doesn’t seem right.”

“No, it doesn’t, but until our laws change that’s what we’ve got.”

She snorted bitterly and repeated, “It isn’t enough. As far as I’m concerned they should lock these guys up and lose their files and the keys to their cells, but that’s not going to happen.”

Lauren stood abruptly and walked to the fountain. She pulled her purse around, obviously searching for money. Wes followed her, fishing in his pocket for spare change. He held out his open palm. “Here.”

She took one of the quarters and squeezed her eyes closed to make a wish. With a flick she sent the quarter spinning through the air. They both watched it settle on the bottom among the rest of the glittering coins. Wes took the other coin and with a quick glance at her, sent it tumbling into one of the falls.

“You know, I never hated anyone before. But I hate him. I hate Will.” Lauren shook her head. “We all knew Sarah was too good for him. Why did he have to prove us right like
this
?”

Wes didn’t know what to say. Finally he asked carefully, “Have you had counseling?”

Lauren gave a harsh laugh. “Yes.”

“Still going?”

“I don’t think I can forgive when I’m still this angry.”

Anger. He could help her with that. “Maybe I have a way to help you deal with it. Care to get sweaty?”

Already pumped up on emotion she spun on him indignantly. “Sweaty, angry sex? That’s your answer?”

Wes’s head snapped back as if she’d struck him, and his hands came up defensively. “No! Stop jumping to conclusions. I was going to suggest that we put you in boxing gloves and let you work out some of that aggression.”

“Boxing?”

“Trust me, you’ll feel better, mentally and physically.”

“I don’t really see me hitting anything.”

“Picture your brother-in-law and you might feel differently.”

Lauren nodded slowly, clearly intrigued by the idea. “Maybe you’re right.”

Pleased she was considering it, Wes didn’t give her a chance to backpedal. “Good, let’s go.”

* * * *

Wes followed Lauren to her apartment and waited while she got proper clothing. Then they headed to his house so he could toss a bag together.

Lauren didn’t know what she expected as far as Wes’s house went but it wasn’t the cute little white bungalow tucked among other similar single story houses with their hipped roofs and tidy little yards. There were sidewalks on both sides of the shaded street, connected to each small home’s modest walkway. Charming, the neighborhood was flat-out charming.

While Wes gathered his gear, Lauren snooped. His dark chocolate brown sectional took up most of the living room area. There was an oversized matching ottoman in the center with a wooden tray propped against it. Apparently the ottoman served as a coffee table too.

A large unframed picture of the woods hung directly behind the sofa. It picked up the color scheme of the room, but it looked stark and flat. Wes caught Lauren frowning at it when he came out of his bedroom with his gym bag.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“It’s nice,” said Lauren diplomatically.

He smiled. Walking over to a wall switch, he flipped it up and the lights directed at the painting came on. The transformation was amazing. The colors and textures came to life. It was now a living, breathing forest. Wes adjusted the lights and the time of day changed.