Stardust Miracle (8 page)

“I’ll get Goldie,” he said.

She got water for Goldie and the pups, giving her heated cheeks time to cool. That taken care of, she stood in the hall between the kitchen and the dining room and watched him and Goldie head toward her.

Trey was having a strange effect on her, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. She let Goldie into the room with the puppies, replaced the barrier then turned to him. “Why are you here? Do you need Marsh? I can give you his cell number.”

“I heard he had some old Indian parts.”

She frowned and he laughed. “The motorcycle,” he said, and she recalled that Indian was an old Wisconsin motorcycle manufacturer.

“I’ll call him.” She went back into the kitchen for her cell. There were two pieces of fudge left and he offered one to her while she pressed the speed dial number she’d added yesterday evening. She shook her head and told him he was evil.

His face lit in a smile again, and sparkles deep within her did a little dance.
A dirty dance.

By the time Marsh answered on the third ring, her skin was hot again. She wondered if it could be a lingering condition brought on by the flu. This had never happened to her with Jim.

She told Marsh about Trey and what he wanted, then handed the cell to Trey. In the other room, Goldie barked and the puppies started their squealing again. Who needed an alarm system with dogs?

She headed to the front window to see who was coming now, and spotted the back of Patty, the mail lady, hurrying across the street. She’d already delivered Sarah’s mail.

Becky went to collect the mail and brought in a few sales flyers and bills. On the bottom was a sticky note on a Change of Address form, with a message from Patty telling her she needed to fill it out and either stop by the post office or leave it in the mailbox. If she left it in the mailbox, Patty would pick it up the next day. 

On the bottom of the note, Patty had scrawled: I knew what Jim was doing.

Chapter Eleven

Becky leaned against the hallway wall, dizzy for a second. She closed her eyes. How many other people had known?

She felt like a fool. A stupid fool.

Fingers touched her shoulder and she jumped around to look straight into Trey’s concerned eyes. “You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, not sure how her voice would sound.

His eyebrows contracted, not buying it. She tried a smile, but felt it wobble.

“I’m fine,” she said, hearing the throatiness in her voice and hoping he’d think it was sexy. Wasn’t sex what all men were supposed to think about? She’d read they thought about it once every seven waking seconds.

No wonder the world was in trouble.

He nodded at the mail. “Bad news?”

She looked down and saw that the yellow sticky note was crumpled in her fist, and the other mail clamped against her chest. “Nope, not a thing.” She glanced up. “What did Marsh have to say?”

Trey handed her the cell. “He can tell you himself.”

Marsh asked her to take Trey to the third storage building where he kept the motorcycle parts and call him back with any offers. By the time she clicked off, she was breathing evenly again.

So what if someone else knew that her husband was an asshole? Her soon-to-be ex-husband. After all, she’d behaved honorably. She had no reason to be ashamed. In fact, the note was Patty’s odd way of being supportive, letting Becky know that someone else knew and believed in her.

It was good. From now on it was all good.

From now on, that was her new motto: It’s all good.

She gave Trey a smile that made his eyebrows sweep up. “I’ll be a moment. I need to change into my sneakers.”

Five minutes later, Trey was happily looking through old rusty motorcycle parts while Becky wished she’d brought a book with her. At first, he told her what he wanted and then she called Marsh. But as the two men got into a heated back-and-forth price war, she finally gave Trey the cell, then stood back and watched his eyes burn bright. She guessed that Marsh’s eyes were doing the same thing. Probably the same as an orchestra leader leading an orchestra or a shopper finding the perfect pair of shoes on sale.

When they agreed on a price that she thought was a lot for a rusty wheel, he handed the phone back to her. The phone-passing thing happened again and again, though she didn’t know how an old license plate cost three hundred dollars. Or an old rear bike fender was worth two hundred. But Trey was smiling like it was a bargain. For all the attention he paid her, she could’ve been walking around naked, letting it all hang out – literally – and he wouldn’t blink.

She told him to keep the phone while he continued to look around. There was an old car seat on the side, and she sat on it, her legs stretched out on the wooden floor. Closing her eyes, she dozed off, fuzzily aware that she trusted Trey and Marsh more than Jim or her father.

Of course, they could turn out to be rats, too. Maybe she just didn’t know them well enough.

But she still let herself fall asleep.

An arm around her shoulder aroused her. Trey. She felt his bicep. Still drowsy, her eyes still closed, she recognized his scent. She murmured and turned her face toward him, the sweatshirt material of his long-sleeved top soft under her cheek. Lethargy tugged at her. Thinking to lean into him a bit more, she raised her face.

He must’ve been leaning down because their lips met.

Instantly awake, she felt his arm stiffen and knew this kiss wasn’t his plan, even though he’d sat beside her. He started to pull back, and inside her rose up a loud, clamoring
‘No!’

She reached up, curved her hands around his neck and drew him to her.

He resisted for one second, then he sighed. A sound of surrender. She kept her eyes closed, because right now she wanted to
feel
. Not look, not talk, not think. Just feel and smell and taste.

With an almost inaudible moan, he kissed her. His mouth opened, and hers parted under his. His hands on her back drew her against his chest.

The kiss went on and on. And it was good, so good. Their tongues met. And it was better and it was wonderful.

She drew closer to him, her breasts flattening against his chest, as if she wanted to meld with him. Small lightning streaks bolted through her, and she wanted more. Her body heated. Hotter and hotter...

Then he twisted away. His hands slid from her back and he gripped her upper arms.

Caught in a hot daze, she tried to lean forward, but his hands grasped her harder. Holding her away from him.

Her eyelids snapped up. His face looked changed. His color brighter. His eyes hotter. His breathing faster and harder.

Her breath huffed out even as he shook his head. “We can’t do this.”

“Why?” she asked in a breathy voice. 

“For one thing, I don’t have a condom on me.”

She opened her mouth to tell him it didn’t matter. That a barren woman probably wouldn’t need it anyway.

That thought brought the old pain knifing back, cooling her faster than if someone threw ice water at her face.

Her body went limp, and for a second only his grip on her arms kept her from sagging. Then she sucked in her breath and drew strength with the long inhale. She gave a twist to her shoulders and his grip eased. Still looking into her eyes, he released her.

She smiled, even as she chided herself for being the same old people pleaser. But what was she supposed to do? Whip off her top and bra? Then say, “This is what you could’ve had, but you blew it.”

Besides, she didn’t need a man’s help to take care of her sexual needs.

“I got a little carried away,” she said.

“A
little
carried away?” He looked down at his lap then into her eyes. “Nothing little here.”

She laughed and it caught in her throat that was not quite ready for laughter. She put her hand to her forehead and it was warm. “You were right to pull away.”

“I won’t take advantage of you.”

“Don’t talk like that.” She shifted a few inches from him. How odd of him to phrase it that way. So old-fashioned. So…gallant. So
not
what she would’ve expected from him. “You weren’t the only one in that clinch. There were two of us. I was kissing just as much as you.”

He didn’t reply, but his eyes darkened and his expression became hooded. She could’ve sworn she felt little testosterone pellets land on her face, her throat, stab her through her top. Slip into her partly open mouth, then slide smoothly down into her body that still simmered.

She leaned toward him again. Caught herself and jerked back. Her face heated even more.

Next time he came over, she needed to have a warning. She’d prepare ice shavings to slap on her face when needed.

He stood and stepped away. “You filed for divorce today. You’re fragile right now.” He smiled and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Back in high school, I noticed you.”

“I know,” she whispered. Of course she’d known, but she’d never admitted it. She’d noticed him back then, too. She’d never told anyone. She hadn’t even written it in her diary.

Now she let herself remember the colliding glances that left her breath stuck in her throat as she looked away. The way she pretended they never happened.

She’d read about opposites attracting, and that’s what those longing looks were.

Simple biology – her hormones on the hunt to find someone who didn’t belong in her pack. Someone different, who didn’t have a similar genetic make up. Someone who would give her a strong, healthy baby.

And today, eighteen years since he first left Wisconsin, his body was doing the same thing.

She guessed hers was having the same effect on him. She hoped it was.

“You and I were like the sun and the moon coming together,” he said.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not possible.”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

She pushed her hair back from her face. “It’s possible with us. Without any planetary explosions.”

“I’ll come back.” His eyes glinted. “Next time I’ll be prepared.”

She looked him in his eyes, not grinning, not smiling – as serious as the divorce papers she’d left on the kitchen counter. “Don’t take too long. I’m not waiting for any man anymore.”

“I’ll remember.” He stared at her for a long moment, then he took out a piece of paper and pointed at the pile of stuff by the big doors at the front. “Here’s the list and here’s the bill. You can call Marsh to check it.”

“I will,” she said.

It took another twenty minutes to look at the pile of parts and signs and a few things she didn’t even know the names of, but she trusted he wrote the right things down. She’d been let down big-time by Jim. But she had to keep trusting or she’d be angry and bitter for the rest of her life.

As she stood on the front porch and watched Trey drive away, his last words echoed in her ears and her mind and her heart. 

‘I’ll be back for you, Becky,’ he’d said. And then he gave her the slow smile that creased the dimples in his cheeks and slit his eyes and made her chest, plus a few other places, feel as though a match flared up inside her. “I’ll be back.”

Heading into the house, she remembered she was going out to eat with Derek tonight.

After this last hour with Trey, it was going to be hard to give Derek her full attention.

Chapter Twelve

Sitting across from Becky at the table for two, Derek looked spruced up and young. He glistened like one of the silver candlesticks in her father’s house. His shiny purple shirt wouldn’t look out of place on a hip-hop star, and Becky suspected he’d bought it for tonight. Probably he’d gone to Wausau to shop so no one from Miracle would see him. He was dressed better than she was in her black slacks and red top that was too loose since she’d lost weight.

She wished now she’d taken her skinny clothes to Sarah’s house. She hadn’t dreamed she might fit into them again.

Sarah had offered to let her wear one of her tops, but Becky had thanked her and said it wasn’t necessary. She hadn’t expected Derek to look so...
good.

As she read the menu, she suspected her thinness wouldn’t last long. Did Italians like everything with cream or cheese or both in it? Or were those the Americanized versions? Or just the menu items that caught her eye?

Why were the things that looked so good so bad for her? 

That made her think of Trey. Not for long, though, because he wasn’t here and the food was. She was ravenous. While looking at the menu she’d found her lost appetite and realized she hadn’t exactly lost it. It had just gone on sick leave.

Now she was healthy again – and perhaps not so sad – and she wanted to order half the items on the menu. And all the desserts. In fact, she wanted to live here and never, ever leave.

The waiter came with their wine, a sweet Riesling for her and a Chardonnay for Derek. After the waiter left with their order, Derek leaned across the table toward her.

“I heard what you did today.”

Her heartbeats thudded in her ears and she clutched the table edge. Lately, life felt like a carnival ride and she needed to hang on tight.

Did the whole town know she’d necked with Trey in the storage building? That she’d been ready to do more, but he backed off and gave her the ‘you’re not ready, and I don’t want to take advantage of your fragile emotions’ line? Not in those words, but that’s what he’d meant.

As if Trey didn’t know
she
wanted to take advantage of
him
.

“Heard about what?” she asked, her voice squeaking as she tried to think up excuses for being in the building with Trey for so long.

Derek reached across the table and held out his hand. She unclenched hers from the table edge. Feeling like she was having an out-of-body moment, she grabbed his hand as if it were her lifeline. As if without it, she’d fall into the deepest part of Lake Miracle and she needed to hang on or drown.

“That you filed for divorce.”

“Oh...” Relief made her heartbeat slow and her muscles relax. She let go of his hand and gave him a grateful smile.