Wild (20 page)

My brain whirred with thoughts of what had just happened. Lane had run into his brother and ex-fiancée, clearly together, and he didn’t seem broken by it. Something unspoken had passed between them. Lane seemed to let them go. Seemed to forgive, something that I wasn’t sure could be possible if I hadn’t have just witnessed it.

I didn’t know if two brothers could ever come back from that, such a profound betrayal, and maybe they didn’t need to, but seeing his brother today had released something inside Lane, and I couldn’t help but think he was better for it.

“Lane?” she murmured later that night as she lay wrapped in my arms, her naked body pressed to mine under the comfort of her heavy down blanket.

“Mmm?” I hummed as I worked figure eights along the skin at her shoulder.

“What happened?”

“With?” I was still relishing in the post-sex haze, unable to comprehend what she was asking.

“With her? Your engagement?”

My body tensed immediately as her soft green eyes peered up at me.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

I worked my jaw back and forth for a moment as I thought about what to say, how to describe the epic failure that had been my engagement. The bullet I’d dodged when it had crumbled at my feet.

“She . . . we wanted different things,” I decided on.

“That sounds like a throwaway answer.”

I looked down at her and laughed. “Not gonna let me off the hook with that, huh?”

“Not if I can help it.” She smiled when she realized I wasn’t angry and tucked herself deeper into my shoulder.

“Okay. She wanted different people. Mainly my brother.”

“She . . . they . . . had an affair?”

“I don’t know about affair, but fucked, yes.”

“That’s why you don’t talk to him . . .?”

“That and a lot of other reasons. That was sort of the last straw.”

“How long ago?”

“I found out about them almost a year ago. She begged me to work on it, but it’s just not something I can do. I can’t handle a cheater. I left the night I found out. She was spending a lot of time in Portland, her mom was sick so she went down to take care of her for days at a time. When her mom got better, she was still going down there a lot. I didn’t think anything of it, I had no reason to.

“My brother and I only spoke a few times a year before that, so I didn’t much keep up with his life, but if I had, I would’ve known he’d just moved there. Things would have clicked into place for me a lot sooner.”

“How long did they . . .?”

“I don’t know, probably a few months at least. Could have been longer. I didn’t care to know; the damage was done.”

“Hmm . . .” Her steady, even breaths whispered across my naked chest. “She’s beautiful.”

“On the outside, maybe. I didn’t know they were still together. I had no idea . . .” I trailed off in thought. “Tell me about your marriage.” I was desperate to change the subject. Seeing Ridge and Mia on the street had shocked me, I hadn’t known if they were together or not, but seeing them solidified something in me. I knew what I had with Kat. Was surer than I’d ever been. What I had with Kat, whether she wanted to believe it or not, was so much stronger than anything I’d ever thought I had with Mia. I saw that now. Mia and I had had a superficial relationship. What she and my brother had done was a soul-shattering betrayal, but in another fucked up way it had brought me right here with Kat, and I couldn’t regret that.

“I don’t . . . I don’t like to talk about it,” she finally replied.

“Okay.” I didn’t care to push her. She could tell me or not tell me about her marriage when the time was right. Her past didn’t impact us, so I didn’t need to know.

We listened to the wind howling through the trees outside for a few minutes before she finally sighed. “We didn’t end well. We didn’t begin well, really. But it was what it was. We don’t talk; I haven’t spoken to him since.”

“How long were you married?”

“Eight years,” she said thoughtfully. From the tone of her voice, I could tell she was drifting to another place: revisiting the memories that made up her marriage. The memories that she’d chosen to keep locked up tight.

“Married young?”

“Yeah. He was older. Career was established. Sometimes I think I was a trophy wife,” she mumbled as she traced a pattern around my nipple.

“Sorry, Sugar.” I ran my hands up into her hair and twisted it around my fingers. I loved my hands buried in her thick mane. It felt like taking ownership, being surrounded by her in scent and touch. It was intoxicating.

“It’s over. In the past. A past I don’t want to revisit or repeat.”

“Right.” I rolled on my side and wrapped her up in my arms, massaging her scalp and inhaling her wild strawberry scent as she drifted to sleep in my arms.

I wasn’t sure what Kat was hiding, but I sensed it was something. I was just thankful she’d softened to me tonight, and that I’d had the sense to follow her when I’d realized she’d left my house. I was cracking her shell, breaking down her rough exterior to the soft center and she was that much more appealing for it. I liked layers, and this girl had more than enough to keep me busy peeling them away for a long time.

“Thanks for dropping me off,” she murmured as she pressed her body to mine. We stood outside my truck at the library. It was cold; we were well into the thick of winter, just before Christmas. Kat had been staying a lot of nights at my house, sleeping in my bed, wrapped in my arms, hogging my pillow just like I’d wanted.

After the explosive tell-all we’d had over a month ago, we’d seemed to find our rhythm. She stayed here or I stayed there, we ate dinner together most nights of the week. I relished waking up in the morning and making breakfast after enjoying her warm body pressed up against mine. I finally had her eating in the mornings, something she’d complained about at first, but finally relented to. I pushed the bacon on her and she asked if I wanted her to get fat. I gave her a wink and said I liked her curvy body, something to hang onto when I was plowing into her. She threw a piece of toast at me for that one.

“I’ll walk you in,” I whispered against her lips as my hands slid down to cup her ass cheeks.

“No PDAs in front of Claire.”

“Ahh, she won’t mind. Maybe she’ll be inspired to treat Bill to something special tonight.”

“Oh my God, you’re awful.” She turned and smacked me on the shoulder. She darted up the stairs with me a step behind her, our hands locked.

“Morning, Kat. Lane.” Claire nodded at us, a twinkle in her eye as her gaze landed on our locked hands.

“Did Lane pick you up this morning? Does the driveway need plowing? I can send Bill out.”

“Oh, no. It’s fine.” Kat ducked her head as a blush crept up her cheeks. It was obvious the old woman was nosing around to find out if we’d stayed together last night. The truth was we had, obviously, but she wanted confirmation. Gossip ran rampant in this small town. It was a good thing I didn’t give two fucks about it.

“You got some flowers.” Claire’s eyebrows arched as she nodded to the large vase of blood-red roses on the counter.

“Oh.” The air escaped Kat’s lungs as the blood drained from her face. She stepped up to the flowers and plucked the card from the petals. She licked her lips once and then set the card on the counter. “They must have been sent to the wrong person,” she finally said, her voice a little higher than normal.

“Who are they from?”

“Don’t know.” She shrugged and moved around the desk. I plucked the card from the desk and scanned it.

Merry Christmas, baby. I’ll miss you this year. J

“Who the fuck is
J
?”

“Lane.” Her eyes darted over to Claire.

“That boy’s always had a potty mouth, doesn’t bother me.” She waved a hand and then grabbed a stack of books and shuffled off down an aisle.

“Is this your ex?”

“What? No.” She swiped the card from my hands and threw it in the garbage. “I told you, I don’t know who they’re from.”

I fingered a thorny stem as I ran through the possibilities in my head.

“Should send them back, then,” I murmured as I watched her face for any sign of deceit. Anything to tell me there was something she wasn’t telling me, that she did know who’d sent them and who’d be missing her this Christmas. The thought of her spending Christmas wrapped in another guy’s arms made my blood boil.

“Yeah, I’ll call the flower shop,” she said as she sifted through a stack of papers on the counter.

“Okay. Well, I’m headed to the marina. If you need anything . . .” I trailed off as her eyes darted up to mine. They’d lost that playful sparkle they’d had when we’d walked in. They were dark, anxious; she was unmistakably hiding something and it ate at my fucking guts. I couldn’t handle deceit. Mia had done that to me; I had no use for it, no time or patience. Tell me what the fuck is on your mind so we can get past it, or split ways and move on, whatever is best.

“Okay. Have a good day.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. I leaned over the counter, pulled her chin to me, and placed a searing, hot kiss on her lips. I wanted to remind her where I’d been, what I could do, the way I’d marked myself on her.

“Be a good girl,” I murmured as I nipped at her ear.

“I thought you liked me naughty?” she whispered. I narrowed my eyes at her; the little she-devil was teasing and torturing me, forcing me to walk around with a boner for the rest of the day.

“You’re right. I like you bad.” I placed one more kiss on her lips and then turned and walked out of the library. I drove over to the marina and stepped out, turning back just in time to see Kat dumping the vase of roses in the dumpster. There was no way she’d had enough time to call the florist, and anyway, who throws away fresh flowers?

The cold air whipped around my body. Ice formations had formed along the dock, creating abstract sculptures that were oddly beautiful, but still so cold. Somehow, it reminded me of Kat. The nights we were together, she was so warm and open to me, but in the daylight, she closed off.

I ducked into the warehouse where a schooner was lifted and stored for winter. I started gathering what I would need to get started on the boat as my thoughts wandered off to Kat. The message in the flowers had seemed simple and straightforward, but for not knowing the sender, her reaction had been a little ominous. She had secrets, but we all did. I’d just convinced myself that the secrets of her past didn’t involve me or what we had, whatever it was.

I thought of the possibility of her ex coming back into her life. Maybe she’d take him back, he’d convince her how good they were, and she’d leave. Leave me here, without her in my arms, without waking up to her curves pressed up against me, her strawberry hair fanned across my pillow. My heart ached at the thought.

I broke for lunch a few hours later and my brain pounded with exhaustion, thinking about Kat. Her reaction this morning hadn’t set well with me. Something was off about it, about her.

I ripped open a protein bar and chugged a bottle of water as I sat down at the computer in the back office. I searched her name, and variations of it, but found nothing. I searched the name Kennedy in Portland, where she’d said her mother was from. No hits. I continued to search, clicking on different articles when I finally hit on an obituary.

Katherine Lorraine Kennedy-Bishop passed in a fatal accident two years ago one rainy November night. I clicked on the article and found exactly what I’d been searching for. Suddenly, the darkness in her eyes all made sense.