by Cassia Leo
My instinct was to not respond to Emily’s text. I needed to keep building that wall around my heart. I didn’t know if I could survive another heartbreak.
Fucking hell. My life was getting messier than an Afghan village after an airstrike.
Finally, I shook my head as I let out a hefty sigh and began typing.
* * *
Me:
No need to apologize for being popular. I’m sure your company is in high demand.
* * *
Emily:
You can’t see it, but I’m totally blushing.
* * *
Me:
I wish I could see that.
* * *
The sound of footsteps in my driveway made my muscles tense as I whipped my head to the left.
“Shit!” I said, louder than I probably should have.
Laurel gasped. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to creep up on you.”
I looked at Boomer, who was lying on his side fast asleep, and chuckled. “You’re fine. But you have once again confirmed that this lazy dog has absolutely no guard dog tendencies. What brings you here on this fine day?”
She was wearing a pair of faded black skinny jeans with rips in the knees and a light-gray hoodie that looked at least two sizes too big for her. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a messy bun and, as usual, she seemed completely unaware of how unbelievably beautiful she looked.
She glanced into my backyard then at my leg. “Some of your apples fell over the fence into my yard. I just… wanted to know if you need some help picking them.”
I smiled. “Well, aren’t you just as thoughtful as can be? You sure you’re not just making up excuses to come over here now?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Nope. But I may be interested in stealing some of those apples, if you don’t mind.”
“Actually, if you’re offering up your services, I do have about an hour or two of work that needs to be done back here. I could pay you one bushel of apples per hour.”
“Deal,” she beamed.
It took about fifteen minutes for Laurel to help me pick the first harvest of kale. She didn’t seem to mind doing it in the rain. We grabbed a ladder from the garage for her to pick the fruit from the Fuji apple tree near the fence.
“Check you out. I didn’t know you had such amazing tree-climbing skills. You’re definitely going to survive when the apes take over the planet.”
She laughed as she grabbed a few apples off the branch in front of her and tossed them into the wooden crate I was carrying. “Climbing trees used to be one of my favorite pastimes when I was growing up. My mom refused to let my dad build me a tree house. She was afraid it would kill the tree. So I had to climb up the tree without a ladder. I used to stay up there for hours sometimes.”
I followed her as she moved to a different part of the tree and continued to drop apples into the crate. “Careful!” I blurted out as her foot began to slip on a wet branch.
She giggled nervously as she regained her hold on the limb above her. “Well, maybe this wouldn’t take so long if you stopped eating all the apples I’m picking.”
“I ate one apple!”
She let out another throaty guffaw. “Oh, crap. I just realized… That would make a great headline: Woman slips out of apple tree and dies three days before her thirtieth birthday.”
“That would most definitely not make a great headline. Maybe you should come down now. You’re getting too wet up there.”
As soon as I said the words, I realized how bad they sounded, but it was too late to take them back. Almost a week had passed since that brief encounter we’d had outside the shooting range. I knew she had felt something just as I had. Laurel was very rarely quiet, but she didn’t say a word the entire ride back. Then, I didn’t hear from her again until today.
But accusing her of “getting too wet up there” was a very poor choice of words. I was ready to flay myself when the sound of her laughter refocused my attention.
“Oh, my God. That’s so cute. You look mortified,” she said, reaching for another apple.
“You think that’s funny,” I shot back, willing myself not to stare at the curve of her ass or the way wisps of wet hair stuck to the sides of her face. “I am mortified. I should not be talking like that to a married woman.”
Especially when I couldn’t stop thinking about all the dirty things I wanted to do to that married woman’s body.
“Am I married?” she mused aloud as she moved down to a lower branch. “Not even I know—”
Before she could finish her sentence, her foot slipped on the limb below her and she knocked her cheek on another branch. The shock of it made her lose her grip on the limb she’d been holding on to. In a split second, I dropped the crate of apples and stretched my arms out to catch her.
She quickly pushed off me and stood up straight, her mouth agape as one hand covered her cheek. “Oh, my God. Did I hurt your leg?”
The force of catching her in my arms had sent a shockwave through me, which had my thigh throbbing like a bitch. But it was definitely bearable.
I laughed. “You fell out of a tree and you’re asking if I’m okay.”
She looked up at me with those big brown eyes full of worry. “Are you sure? You don’t need me to take you to the hospital or anything?”
Her face was no more than eight inches from mine, close enough for me to smell a new scent I’d never smelled on Laurel, like a peach blossom. Mixed with the fragrant rain and apples, it was intoxicating, like I’d downed a whole bottle of liquor. My defenses were down.
Chapter 16
Laurel
Isaac’s gaze was locked on my mouth. I took deep breaths as I tried to get a grip on my emotions. But I couldn’t stop what I was feeling any more than I could stop the rain from falling on us.
He reached up and my breath stuttered as he brushed his thumb over my top lip. “Raindrop,” he murmured.
Then, Isaac’s lips were on mine. It was a soft, sensual closed-mouth kiss on the corner of my lips. I inhaled as he exhaled. His mouth lingered, hovering over mine for a long moment. Giving me an out.
But it was too late to turn and walk away. I was frozen in place, hardly able to breathe, much less move.
He planted another kiss on the center of my lips before he slid his tongue inside my mouth. He tasted sweet and crisp, like the apple he just ate. His kiss was slow at first, exploring my lips, his tongue lightly grazing mine. Then, it became more urgent as he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close.
I gasped as I shoved him away. “I’m sorry,” I said, my fingertips brushing over my lips. “That shouldn’t have happened. I’m... I have to go.”
I hadn’t run that fast in years. By the time I was inside my house, with the front door closed behind me, my chest was heaving with each wheezing breath I took.
“Oh, God,” I whispered as I pulled the sleeve of my hoodie over my hand and used the cuff to wipe my mouth. “Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. What have I done?”
I quickly yanked my damp hoodie off, not worrying about my hair as I desperately pulled it over my head. Racing to the laundry room, I stuffed it in the washing machine and tossed a detergent pod in there then quickly pressed the button for the speed wash cycle. I shook my head as I realized washing the hoodie wasn’t going to wash away what I’d done.
I backed up against the wall and slid down to the floor, hugging my knees as I resisted the urge to take a screaming hot shower. Before I could stop myself, I slipped my phone out of the front pocket of my skinny jeans and called Drea.
“Miss me already?” she said, referring to the fact that I’d just spoken to her earlier this morning.
“I did something.”
Drea was silent for a beat. “Okay… Are we talking murder or one too many Oreos?”
“I kissed Isaac.” The silence on the other end of the call was as grating as nails on a chalkboard. “Please say something.”
She let out a loud breath. “Oh, yes,
of course. Uh… How did it happen?”
“Oh, no. You’re judging me.”
“No, I most certainly am not judging you!”
My hand gravitated toward my lips again. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“There is nothing wrong with you!” she replied forcefully. “Listen to me, Laurel. You are entitled to make mistakes. You are human. And you’re lonely. Your damn husband can’t seem to get his bloody act together long enough to pick up the phone and call you. It’s no wonder you’re seeking Isaac’s affection.”
“Wait a minute,” I interjected. “I’m not seeking Isaac’s affection. I… It just happened. I…”
I was going to say that I didn’t want the kiss to happen, but that would be a lie.
“Of course,” Drea continued. “I know you’re not seeking Isaac’s affection. Do you need me to come over there?”
“No, no. You don’t need to do that.”
“I’m coming. It’s barely noon. There’s no traffic now. I’ll be there in less than an hour.”
“No!” I shouted before she could hang up. “I’ll come to you.”
“What happened to your face?” Drea asked as I arrived at the table she’d secured for us at our usual coffeehouse.
My eyes widened as I remembered bumping my face on a branch earlier. “Oh, no. I forgot I hit my face on a tree branch,” I said, reaching up to touch my cheek, which felt tender and swollen.
“That must have been quite a kiss.”
I shook my head as I took a seat across from her. “I was helping Isaac pick apples and I fell out of the tree.”
Drea’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing beneath her dark fringe. “Is he at least paying you minimum wage for your sweatshop labor?”
I rolled my eyes. “I was just doing him a favor because of his leg. He can’t do all the things that need to be done in the garden.”
She nodded. “And you feel responsible for him being shot in the leg.”
I wanted to contradict her, but she was right, as usual. “Well, it was my bodyguard who shot him.”
“Because he attacked your bodyguard.”
I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “This is all so fucked up. How did this get so fucked up?”
Drea shook her head. “Darling, there is no easy answer to that question. But the short answer is that you and Jack endured something deeply traumatic and tragic and completely unfair and illogical. And you’re both still hurting. People do really shitty things when they’re hurt.”
I swallowed hard and tried not to think about the kiss. “What do I do now? Jack isn’t taking my calls. His mom think’s I’m the devil incarnate. And… I’m so lonely, D. I really am.”
She tilted her head and let out a soft sigh as she reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “I wish I could tell you what to do, but that is for you to decide.” She squeezed my hand and smiled. “And whatever you decide to do, you should probably make sure you have plenty of condoms on hand.”
I laughed. “Oh, God. Can we change the subject?”
“Gladly.”
I let go of her hand and picked up my menu, smiling as a random fact popped in my head. “Did you know that condoms have been traced back to ancient Egypt? Yet, some people — like me — still have no fucking clue how to use them some six-thousand years later.”
Drea took a sip of ice water and cocked an eyebrow. “Actually, the first modern condoms were Scottish, and made out of sheep intestine. We Brits improved upon the design by taking the intestine out of the sheep.”
“How long have you been sitting on that one?”
“Far too long,” she replied, picking up her menu. “It doesn’t matter. America is still better than Britain. Has been for about a hundred years. But someday soon, it will be Canada’s turn to take over as the world’s new superpower. Then, we’ll all be sorry.”
I laughed. “You are on a roll today.”
“This is what happens when we go too long without hanging out. I have to save up all my jokes and spring them on you all at once.”
I shook my head. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.”
After our salads arrived, Drea convinced me to go back to the house I’d shared with Jack to retrieve a few important things I’d left behind in my haste to leave. She assured me Jack wouldn’t be there. Her husband Barry, who worked at Halo, had told Drea that Jack was out of town for the last couple of weeks.
As I pulled into the driveway at the house, my stomach tightened into a ball. Stepping out of the SUV, Drea quickly met me at my car.
“See? I told you he wouldn’t be here.”
I shook my head as we walked along the path toward the front door. “I thought the greeting on his assistant’s voicemail was just a lie meant to keep me from trying to call back.”
“Oh, dear. You…”
We stopped in front of the door and I looked at Drea. “I… what? What were you going to say?”
“Nothing. I just hate that you feel like Jack is trying to avoid you. Especially after the way he treated you when he said he wanted a divorce. He’s… Such a dolt. Really, just a complete wanker.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Okay… Why do I feel like you’re hiding something from me?”
She blinked. “What? Me? No, no, no. I would not hide anything from you.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Okay…”
I punched in the pin code on the deadbolt and was surprised when I heard the familiar whirring followed by a click. Jack hadn’t changed the code on the front door after I left. Either he didn’t expect me to return, or he wanted me to return.
I shook off this thought and set off straight for the hallway leading to the bedroom. I wanted to get a bracelet my mother had given me, and a few of my favorite outfits. But as I walked down the corridor, I couldn’t help but notice the doors to Jack’s office and the extra bedroom were open.
The extra bedroom, where Jack and I had kept the piled up boxes of Junior’s things, was completely empty. I didn’t know if this meant that he’d thrown it all away or if he had finally put the boxes in a storage facility, as he’d promised. A sharp pain bloomed in my chest as I considered both of those possibilities.
“Are you okay, love?” Drea asked, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.
I nodded as I continued toward the bedroom, but I stopped as I passed the door to Jack’s office. It too was wide open. Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized all the walls in the office were completely devoid of case evidence. The glass desk had been cleared off, except for his iMac computer, a Halo Inc. mug full of pens, a notepad, and a football autographed by Russell Wilson.
I turned to face Drea. “Was it me?” I whispered.
She shook her head. “What do you mean?”
I lowered my gaze, unable to look her in the eye as I said the words. “Was it me keeping Jack from moving on?”
Drea pulled me into her arms. “Don’t even think such a thing. You tried your best, Laurel. Don’t think for one second that you were keeping Jack from moving on.”
I wiped my face as I pulled away from her. “But maybe I was just encouraging him to hold onto all that rage by fighting with him all the time.”
“That’s silly, and you know it is,” she replied. “If you or Jack are finding peace in each other’s absence, it just means you needed a break. You still love him, don’t you? I mean… That kiss… You don’t think you’re in love with Isaac, do you?”
“No,” I blurted out. “I mean… I don’t think so… I don’t know!” I covered my face in shame. “Oh, God. I’m a horrible wife and person.”
Drea grabbed my shoulders and gave them a gentle shake. “No, you’re not! You need to stop this nonsense. You need to call Jack’s assistant and demand to speak to him.”
“But you said he was out of town? Do you know where he is?”
She narrowed her eyes and chewed on her lip as if she was contemplating something. “I don’t, unfortunately. But I can ta
lk to Barry and see if maybe he knows. In fact…” She looked around as if she were trying to make sure we were really alone. “I overheard Barry making plans to get beers with Jack and Nate this week. I’ll tell Barry to tell Jack that he’d better show up on your doorstep with his heart in his hands very soon, or I will personally rip his heart from his chest with my bare hands.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know if I should thank you or get a restraining order against you.”
“Thank me,” she replied, her pert mouth curling into a devious smile. “Thank me by reconciling with Jack so you can move back here and see my darling face every day.”
I wanted to smile, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. And as warm and sensual and right as it felt, I couldn’t think about it without feeling sick to my stomach. The guilt was only part of the cause. Mostly, what was making me queasy was the sick feeling that it was too late for Jack and me.
After gathering a few outfits and my mother’s bracelet, and promising Drea I would be ready to party for my thirtieth birthday next week, I made it back to Portland by 4:15 p.m., just before the peak of rush-hour traffic. As I pulled onto my street and saw my mother’s house, I cried tears of joy at the sight of Dylan leaning on the porch railing. He looked up as I pulled into the driveway, and his familiar eyeglasses made me even more emotional.
“I’m so happy to see you,” I blubbered as I climbed the porch steps.
He shook his head and laughed. “How is my favorite hot mess?”
“Not good,” I replied, resisting the urge to glance in the direction of Isaac’s house as I unlocked the front door.
Dylan followed me inside and shut the door behind us. “What happened? You didn’t finally get the divorce papers, did you?”
I wiped my face as I hung the keys and my purse on the hook near the door. “No, but thank you for reminding me it could be worse.”