Healing the Wounds (15 page)

Yes. God, yes.
“I do.”

His body swept over hers, an undulation through his stomach, his hips, his thighs. A wave of clouds scudding before the storm, racing the edge. Power waiting to be unleashed.

She pressed her head back, stretching her neck, striving for breath. “I want to, Henry.”

“Good girl.” He kissed her forehead and nuzzled her hairline down to the curve of her ear. “Do you feel it now? Understand it with every atom of your being? Tell me how it feels, dearest.”

“It feels…it feels like—” Like every time he’d told her she’d feel it. That she’d get there. That night in January when he’d been so intense, and she’d thought he meant orgasm. God, how blind and timid and fumbling she’d been. And now she was giddy with it. Dancing in the rain as the storm broke over them both. “It’s love. That’s what you wanted me to feel.”

He groaned. His pace quickened, and she gripped him harder. Pulled him closer. Dared to ride out the storm together.

“I feel it, Henry. I feel it in your hands and your mouth and your words—”

He thrust deep. “And in other places, too, I hope, my sweet Alice.”

“Everywhere.” Her elation poured out in a laugh. “That’s where I feel it when I’m with you and Jay. Everywhere.”

“For us, too, dearest. Everywhere. Always.” He punctuated his words with kisses to her throat and jawline, until she strained to reach him, seeking his mouth for a true kiss.

No more words. Only the thunderous rumbling in his chest as he pressed her hard to the mattress, the rolling growl that escaped him when lightning sizzled along her nerve endings and she shrieked her joy.

When six fifty-nine became seven o’clock Friday night, Alice was not at all where she expected to be. In Henry’s bedroom, almost certainly. Naked, most likely.

Instead, she sat in the back of Henry’s car, nearly an hour west of Boston, with little idea of their destination. Her bits of knowledge numbered two. First, she’d spent less than fifteen minutes at home after work, arriving to Jay carrying a cooler down to the car and Henry waiting with her most comfortable pair of jeans and a soft cotton button-down shirt. Second, Jay reported to Henry with pride he’d mounted his mountain bike on the car’s foldout bumper rack and stowed everything else in the trunk.

“But I haven’t packed anything,” she’d protested.

“I took the liberty, my dear.” Henry had directed her to change clothes and use the bathroom. “We’ll be on the road in five minutes.”

No discussion. She confronted the choice to accept or reject Henry’s leadership on a regular basis now. She retained the option to use her safeword, even in nonsexual contexts, to halt his plans and initiate a discussion on equal footing. No situation had yet warranted such rebellion.

He preferred to orchestrate events. Faith, rooted in evidence, confirmed his choices ended in pleasurable outcomes for her, with very few exceptions. Her choices had caused those exceptions. Her choice to skip one of their contract nights at Christmas. Her choice to use her safeword, to hide from the love she felt for her boys. Her choice to break the rules at the club.

Brooding, she slid down in the seat. Henry had insisted she have the backseat to herself.
“Lie down and stretch your legs if you like, Alice. I do apologize for rushing you into car travel after you’ve sat at your desk all day.”

Her decisions didn’t always end badly. She was more than competent at her job. She handled her tight finances with no trouble. She gave her sister the support their parents couldn’t.

Knowledge and experience made the difference. Where she had the proper depth of field, the deep focus, she did well. She’d never had the right focus for navigating relationships. Where she’d once minimized risk and exposure, now she tried to be open and accepting. Every decision a blurry one. Out of focus. Hard, except Henry made them easy.

So. Memorial Day weekend, and Henry had spirited them away. Somewhere they’d need their own food and Jay could bike off-road. Twisting to lie on her back across the entire seat, she raised her knees and made herself comfortable. Guess Jay’d been right in January about the camping thing.

The passenger seat dropped back, lowering Jay’s smiling face toward her knees. He’d been granted permission to control the music, and he’d sung along with every song. In tune, thankfully.

“Whatcha laughing at? Is it my singing? I’m a fabulous singer. Not good enough to sing tenor in the a cappella group at my high school, but absolutely car-trip worthy.”

“Not the singing. I’m sure your studly tenor made all the girls swoon.” She threw an arm across her forehead drama-queen style. “Camping.”

“Exciting, right?” The thrill of anticipation lived in Jay’s smile, and his tone, and the way he fidgeted nonstop. “I can’t wait to see where we’re going.”

“I thought you and Henry went camping all the time.”

The music abruptly switched from thumping bass to quiet violins, Henry retaking control during Jay’s distraction.

“Sure. North.” Jay waved, blocking the sun coming through the windshield and sending shadows bouncing around the backseat. “We’re going west.” Imitation pity saturated his headshake. “For an engineer, you can’t orient yourself in space very well.” He stuck his tongue out.

She lifted a sock-clad foot and covered his eyes with a gentle push. “You never said you went camping up north, goof. I can only work with the information I have.”

“Is there more information you’d like to have?” Henry reached across the seat and touched Jay’s arm. “Sit up, please. I know you enjoy playing with Alice, but the passenger seat is not the place for distracting antics while we’re in motion. It’s unsafe.”

“Sorry, Henry.” She and Jay spoke together. She lowered her foot, and he adjusted the seat upright.

Henry patted Jay’s thigh. “Thank you. Now, shall we play twenty questions, Alice?”

His tone hinted at laughter. Sly man. Probably expected her curiosity since he’d started the car. No. Since she’d arrived home after work.

“Am I limited to yes-or-no questions?”

“Of course. Nineteen left, sweet girl.”

She groaned. She’d walked right into that one. “Okay. Okay. Umm, will we be sleeping outside?”

“No.”

A cabin, then. “Does this place have running water?” Jay wouldn’t care, but Henry would demand it for practical reasons. Hygiene. Safety. Comfort.

“Yes.”

Jay swiveled between her and Henry. “Wait, I have an important question, too.”

“Alice, this is your game. It’s your choice whether to allow Jay some of the questions.”

Jay leaned between the seats, puppy-dog eyes at full plea. “It’s really important.”

“Sure, Jay.” She couldn’t say no to her enthusiastic playmate, her partner in crime. Reining him in was Henry’s job. “This question’s yours. Go for it.”

A quarter turn left Jay facing Henry with an open, earnest expression. “Does it have a bed as big as ours?”

She smashed her lips together, but the smile still pulled at her mouth. She covered her face. Jay’s biggest concern, of course. Should’ve seen that coming.

“It’s the most important question,” Jay insisted. “I see you smiling, Henry. Alice is cheating with her hands, but she’s smiling, too. ’Cause she knows I asked the best question.”

She laughed until her cheeks ached.

“Well, Alice? Shall I answer Jay’s question?”

She nodded vigorously.

Whoops. Henry couldn’t see her while she was lying down.

“Yes, please,” she choked out, lowering her hands. “It
is
important—but no offense, Jay, sweetheart, I think I’ll keep the rest of the questions for myself.”

“Yes, my dears, it has a bed as large as, or larger than, our own.”

“S’okay, Alice.” Jay stretched his arms out, raised them, and rested them behind his head, elbows out. “The important question’s answered. You can have the rest.”

She snorted and contemplated the car’s roof. A sense of the timing would help her figure out Henry’s motivation for rushing them into the car. “Have you been planning this for a while?”

“Define ‘a while,’ my dear.”

Hmm. To get a cabin rental for Memorial Day weekend, weeks, maybe months, in advance. As far back as January? Or had it been a desire to give them space to process the last two weeks. The difficulty at the club. Meeting Emma and starting to understand everything her friendship meant to Henry. His history. “More than two weeks.”

“No.”

The latter, then. Henry worried about her and Jay. He wanted a safe space, but not the apartment, to help the three of them reconnect. He’d choose someplace familiar to him. But a place he hadn’t taken Jay before?

Green leaves whipped past outside the car window.

“Have you run out of curiosity so soon, Alice?”

“Nope. Strategizing.”

“Ah. A clue for you, then, my dear. We’ve reached the halfway point on our journey.”

They’d been driving west for just over an hour. Unless a change of direction was in store, two and a half west—“We’re going to the Berkshires?”

“Yes.”

“You got a last-minute reservation for Memorial Day weekend?” This little vacation had to be costing him a fortune. Four times the going rate and a kidney for the owner.

“Mmm. An interesting question, Alice. The answer, I suppose, is both yes and no, in that a reservation was not specifically required.”

“Because your family owns the place?” That would simplify things.

“No.”

“But you’ve been there before?” Not with Jay, though.

“Yes.”

On the right track. Good. Keep going. “Are you paying a ridiculously high fee to make up for the lack of a reservation on a holiday weekend?” Fuck, this answer had better be no. He wasn’t obligated to spend his money on her like that. She’d rather not take a vacation or vacation at home than have him shell out extra to give her and Jay a break from routine.

“No.”

If the place wasn’t his, and he wasn’t paying extra—“You know the owner.”

“Yes.”

She sat up, seeking the smile evident in his voice. Their gazes met in the rearview mirror, a teasing hint of excitement widening his eyes. Close, then. If he meant to make her more comfortable, the place wouldn’t be Emma’s. But he obviously expected she knew or could determine the owner’s identity from the facts at hand
.

“Santa! You’re taking us to Santa’s cabin.”

“Well done, Alice. And in a mere ten questions.” Henry winked at her in the mirror. “Will graciously agreed to loan me the house for the weekend, as he won’t be using it.”

Jay whistled. “If his cabin’s anything like his
house
house, I’m gonna be afraid to touch anything.”

“Anything, my boy?” Henry chuckled. “That will make for interesting games.”

“Maybe not anything.” Jay’s knees bounced. “I could touch some things.”

So Henry had arranged this getaway for them at a potentially fantastic location, and the trip wasn’t costing him a thing beyond food and gas. “Another thing I’ll have to thank Santa for,” she mused.

“Not to worry, sweet girl. We’ll have dinner with Will next weekend, and you may thank him then if you like. For
this
weekend, however, I’d like you and Jay both to concentrate on yourselves.” He squeezed Jay’s knee and nodded at her in the mirror. “Simply relax and enjoy, my dears. Let your thoughts wander where they will.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence, aside from Henry’s occasional humming with the music. He turned off the highway west of Springfield, slowing through downtown Westfield before the view changed back to tree-covered hillsides and bare stone. A winding rural route, two lanes, barely any shoulder at all, with few crossroads and even fewer homes in sight. That gave way to another rural route, and finally to an unpaved road where the trees stood so close and the canopy so broad that the last flickers of twilight never reached the ground.

Henry turned into a driveway on the left and pulled up in front of a house where a porch light glowed with cheery yellow greetings.

Alice gasped.

Jay nodded. “Told you it’d be fancy.”

The cabin was a cabin, all right, in that it mixed what looked like gray river stones with half-round logs in a classic motif. A sharp peak in the center with lower wings running to the left and right. Small windows on this side, round and half round, but then this was the north face. She’d bet the south side was a wall of glass.

Her attention kept straying to the light. “Is someone waiting for us, Henry?”

He turned off the engine and popped the locks. “No, we’ll have the place entirely to ourselves. Will insisted on having a caretaker come through to freshen the linens and leave a welcome.” He opened his door and got out. “Come along. Inside first. The bags may wait a moment.”

Henry retrieved a key from above the door frame. Try that in Boston, and they might as well hang a sign out for thieves. Not that thieves could find this place. Hell, satellites couldn’t find it under the tree cover. Henry wiped his shoes on the mat as the door swung open, and she and Jay followed suit.

Jay breathed deep. “I smell cookies.”

Stepping inside, Alice leaned forward and sniffed. Yum. “Definitely cookies.”

An overhead light flipped on, Henry’s doing.

Jay made a beeline for the wide kitchen counter. A plate heaped with cookies waited. “Chocolate chip,” he crowed, picking up something else and waving it in the air. “And a note for Henry.”

Her stomach growled.

Henry stroked her back and patted her ass. “Go on and have some cookies. I doubt you’ll spoil your dinner, late as it is.” He raised his voice. “Two cookies, my boy. Share with Alice, please.”

Henry took the envelope from Jay’s hand. He opened it with unhurried precision, scanning the note he plucked out as she and Jay fed each other bite-size, broken-off cookie bits. Enormous, soft, chewy cookies, fresh-baked and not cold yet. A laugh had them both turning to Henry.

“Will assures me his caretaker was pleased to make a batch of cookies to split between us and her grandchildren, and he hopes my pets will find them enjoyable, as they could use some fattening up.” He laid the note aside and shook his head, leaning in to lay gentle kisses on her cheek and Jay’s. “But he’s quite mistaken. You’re both lovely as you are.”