Redemption Lane

by Rachel Blaufeld

  “I know, but she’s my Bess. Anyone who meets her once knows she’s fucking special. And I could give her a good life. I get where she’s been.” I took a slug of my coffee, allowing it to burn its way down my throat, making its way to my acid-filled stomach.

  Shirley shook her head, giving me a pitying look. “AJ, honey, she needs to find her own way. You can’t solve that for her, no one can. Not me or that man from out of town. This I know, doll.”

  “What man, Shirl? What the hell are you talking about?”

  I grabbed my forehead.

  This is why she went to Florida. I had to stop this. Whatever this cat-and-mouse game was.

  “You know what, Shirley? Never mind. You should mind your own fucking business when it comes to Bess too.”

  I threw some money on the counter and hightailed it out of there.

  That night I went ballistic when I got home, tossing shit around my house—a lamp, my side table, and a fucking framed picture of my parents—before I sat up the rest of the night smoking out on my porch. I couldn’t have given two fucks if it was freezing.

  Early the next day, I blew off morning roll call with my crews to catch a glimpse of the little tramp.

  Guiding my truck into a spot in the church parking lot, I saw her car and flung myself out of the cab. My heavy boots ate up the asphalt and I was in the church before I could take stock of what I was doing. When I threw open the door, reality came crashing down on me as heads turned and all eyes in the room focused on me.

  Shit. I was using a meeting, doing the ultimate sacrilegious act, all to manipulate Bess. I could be hindering her sobriety, and even I knew that wasn’t what I intended or wanted.

  Without saying a word, I turned around and walked back to my truck.

  A cold wind whipped all around me, its mood about as angry as my own. It wasn’t quite spring, but winter wasn’t totally over. The air was damp and moist, a chill running through it. It hit my face and tears burned at my eyes.

  From the wind. Yeah, right.

  “AJ! Wait!” she called out from behind me and there she was, running toward me.

  I froze in place, my feet glued to the asphalt as my throat clogged with emotion, something I wasn’t used to and didn’t like one damn bit. I’d tamped down my feelings for years before learning to live without them.

  “Bess,” I said as she approached.

  She didn’t hesitate; she came right in for a hug. A friendly bear hug.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi.”

  I held her close, unable to let her go. Eventually she pulled back, and I noticed she didn’t have her jacket on.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s go sit in my truck where it’s warm.” I cocked my head toward it.

  When we climbed into the cab, I turned on the engine and cranked up the heat.

  Bess wrapped her arms around herself and lifted her shoulders to her ears as she tried to get warm. “Listen, AJ, I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. I’m sorry for everything. I’ve had a lot on my mind, but what I did was wrong. I love you, but not like that. I need you in my life, and I hate to think I ruined that. But I feel like I did.” She stared straight out the windshield with her admission.

  “Babe, you know I care for you a whole fuck of a lot, but I’m not ready to accept that you’re not hiding your true feelings for me. You’re scared of how good we can fucking be, and running. Like your mom ran from you.”

  I shifted in my seat to face her and reached out to smooth back her windblown hair, taking in her innocent eyes and natural beauty. I wouldn’t use a meeting, but I would use her past.

  She tucked her chin in her chest and stared at her Nikes as she said, “I met someone else. I know it’s not gonna work with him, but he made me feel something huge for the first time since I was little. Since before my mom left and everything got messed up.”

  Hearing these words roll off her tongue was like a punch to the gut in a bad bar fight.

  “I’m sorry that I wasn’t honest,” she said softly. “It just felt so strange and unique and everything in between, I wanted to keep it to myself.” She shot me a sideways glance, a small line appearing between her brows as she added, “Plus you and I had crossed so many boundaries, and I was so ashamed of the way I acted. You didn’t deserve to be taken advantage of like that. You’re right, I did run, but for good reason. From you. From him. From everyone.”

  My mind whirled as I listened, struggling to find an argument that would make her stay.

  “Listen to me,” I said, trying to keep the desperation I was feeling out of my voice. “You didn’t deserve for me to start any of this, but some things happen for a reason. Like us. I pushed my way in because I had to. There was something driving us to be together, but I should have seen you weren’t ready. I left myself wide open for whatever you did. My heart was on my sleeve, and now I need to tuck it back in. For a while, anyway. Because I’m waiting for you, Bess.”

  She wiped her face. A tear had made its way down her cheek, making me want to pull her in and kiss her. But that wasn’t where we were. She wanted to be friends. Friends who’d fucked a few times.

  She reached for the handle and popped the door open. “I’m sorry. I have to go,” she blurted before she ran back to her meeting.

  And I fell off the wagon. All because of some sweet piece of cunt.

  Lane

  Heading to Pittsburgh turned into a major cluster fuck. Instead of renting a car, I had Jake pick me up at the airport. Good thing he was driving when he dropped the bad news; otherwise, I would have strangled him.

  “We’re not meeting with the smoothie company until Monday,” he said offhandedly. “That’s the best they could do.”

  “Fuck,” I roared before slamming my hand into the dashboard. My carefully constructed facade was beginning to crack, little fissures slowly making their way into my polished finish.

  I’d finally heard back from Bess and made a plan. She’d texted that she would “love” to see me, and I figured I’d be able to head up Friday night or Saturday morning at the very latest before going home first thing Monday morning.

  “I have a life, Jake,” I said after composing myself.

  “I know. I did the best I could, but we could have fun over the weekend. Hang out?”

  “No thanks, I don’t do pity invites. Besides, I’m going to see someone up in the country, and now I’ll have to come back here on Sunday night so we can hit that hellhole known as Youngstown on Monday.”

  “Oh, who?”

  “You don’t know her.”

  He glanced over at me, finally taking the hint. “Well, at least we could chill tonight.”

  “Sure,” I said through clenched teeth. The only thing worse than my brother sleeping with five women at the same time was Jake sleeping with no one.

  We ended up in a dark sports bar with TVs everywhere and Iron City on tap. It was a shithole, but a good one. Seated in a booth in the back, we ordered a plate of wings, and I pulled out my phone. After e-mailing my assistant—again—instructing her on my latest change of plans, I texted Bess.

  ME: I’m here. Back in the USA. Just got to Pittsburgh and turns out I’m free all day tomorrow. What’s your work schedule?

  My beer arrived as my phone dinged.

  BESS: I’m off tomorrow and Saturday. I have to work on Sunday, though.

  ME: OK. Can I come out in the morning?

  BESS: Sure. About what time? I’ve been going to a morning meeting.

  ME: Let’s say 10?

  BESS: Great. I’ll text you my address for your GPS. I’ll give you the main road. It works better when you put that in.

  ME: See you then.

  I might have seemed calm in my texts, but I was anything but relaxed. I was especially unnerved now that I needed to extend my trip at least until Tuesday, delaying my time to get in and out of Youngstown.

  That place was my worst nightmare.

  Downshifting my rental Jeep into third, I slowed m
y speed on the curvy road leading to Bess’s place despite wanting to floor it. I’d been up half the night. My old nightmares had returned, and after tossing and turning for hours, I finally called a cab at the crack of dawn to take me to rent a car.

  I left without saying good-bye to Jake, but I did grab some of his casual clothes. He could at least let me have those after all I’d done for him over the years, and was about to do next week.

  The farther I drove from him and what Monday would bring, the calmer I felt. But every time I thought about the weekend coming to an end and what lay ahead, I started to panic again. It was a vicious cycle of up-down-up-down throughout the whole ninety-minute drive to rural Pennsylvania.

  Fields rolled out for miles from the road. Cows grazed in the grass and horses roamed, making me feel small in my pursuits. I was a man pursuing a woman. The wrong woman for me, for so many reasons. Yet I couldn’t stop myself.

  Her long silence following my initial text showed me she felt the same hesitation, but when she used the word “loved” in reference to seeing me, there wasn’t much that could stop me.

  Finally I made it to the address on the main road, where Bess instructed I should make the first left immediately beyond it. As I turned onto her small road, a winding country path lined with trees, her small house came into view. Tucked back against the woods, small branches framing it, the house beckoned with its gray wraparound porch.

  I parked the Jeep behind another small SUV, which I assumed belonged to Bess, and bolted to the stairs. The door flung open and a huge dog came running out, barking, tail wagging, tongue hanging out.

  “Hey,” Bess said from the doorway.

  “Hey. Some guard dog you have here,” I replied, unable to move because her dog was jumping at my feet, panting and begging for my attention.

  “Brooks Bailey, leave it!” she shouted, and he didn’t hesitate. The dog turned away and bounded down the hill, heeding everything Bess said like every other hot-blooded male.

  Alone now, we met halfway on the steps to her porch. She blinked and said, “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “Me either.” I pulled her in for a hug and an inhale. She still smelled familiar, but instead of salty ocean air cloaking her this time, it was pine and evergreen.

  She pulled back and said, “Welcome to spring in a place that has four seasons. Enjoy the damp and muddy conditions we have to face before we get glorious sunshine.”

  I didn’t have a chance to answer because Brooks was back on the porch, now circling both of us with a ball in his mouth.

  “Should I throw it?” I asked.

  “Only if you plan to spend the rest of your weekend doing that,” Bess said with a laugh. “Come on in.”

  We headed through the door into a combined sitting area and kitchen. Loyal and lucky to belong to the brown-haired beauty, Brooks followed right behind Bess, never leaving her side now that I was in their domain. The crackle of the fireplace and the smell of something baking greeted us as we walked inside.

  “So, this is my place. Not quite as big as yours and no swimming pool, but we do have zucchini bread baked with chocolate chips.”

  “It smells amazing,” I said with an appreciative sniff.

  Bess walked toward the oven and waved her hand around while saying, “Make yourself at home.”

  I couldn’t move. My feet were like two boulders in the ground when she grabbed oven mitts and bent over to take the bread out. Her ass was just as perfect as a few years ago when I first saw her in the downward dog position. I was transported to that day, and a tidal wave of guilt flooded my stomach at what I was doing.

  Lying or deceiving or whatever this was, it was wrong. It had become an evil pattern, one that dug its claws deep within me, and I couldn’t wrestle my way out. Instead, I kept pushing forward, trudging through life with guilt’s stranglehold in place over my heart.

  As the bread cooled on the counter, Bess made her way over to me. Studying my expression, she said, “You okay?”

  “Absolutely. I just didn’t sleep well last night.” I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

  “Oh,” she said into my chest.

  I kissed the top of her head and wanted so much more.

  She looked up at me, her eyes uncertain. “I was gonna suggest a little hike, but if you just want to chill, that’s cool.”

  Placing my index finger under her chin, I tilted her face up toward mine, then I bent and placed my mouth over hers. There was no way to describe what I did next other than I devoured her lips and tongue. I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

  Finally, I broke away and said, “A hike sounds perfect.”

  Bess

  Lane was in my house. Rather than his usual expensive suit, he was wearing worn-in jeans and a dark blue thermal shirt, standing in the middle of the sitting area with his mouth covering mine.

  In Pennsylvania. In my little house.

  I was freaking out—baking and suggesting a hike—when all I really wanted to do was lead him back to my bedroom. Although I had vowed that one weekend with Lane was enough when I returned home, then he texted me. And I’d relented, because once would never be enough when it came to him.

  My life was still complicated. AJ and I were not in a better place, but our swords had been drawn. He knew where I stood and wouldn’t accept that, but I was holding to it.

  I was lonely other than my occasional time with Shirley. Being alone and cold with no one other than Brooks to warm my feet was getting old. And I liked Lane more than a little. Maybe even a lot. I just couldn’t figure out how he fit into my carefully crafted life. But now he was in my house, kissing me silly.

  So when Lane interrupted my thoughts with, “A hike sounds perfect,” I quickly took him up on it. It seemed the smart thing to do at the time.

  We hiked through the woods, taking a path from my house. Brooks followed along off leash, but Lane noticed he wore the collar he’d sent in his second package. He also noticed the giant container I was using for Brooks’s treats that he’d sent in his most recent package.

  I thought that would be my last package and cherished the tiny mementos of our weekend he included. The miniature snow globe with a swimming pool inside sat on my window sill, and the votive full of sand and shells held a permanent spot on the mantel. He probably noticed those too, but I didn’t point them out.

  As we made our way along the narrow paths wearing almost matching puffy vests, we held hands and had conversations we shouldn’t have been having.

  “So, you got this dog pretty much under your little finger?” Lane asked as we rounded a bend and Brooks came as soon as I called him.

  “I don’t know about that, but we came into each other’s lives when neither of us had anyone else. I think he knew how much I needed him.”

  I stopped and caught myself from going on and on about a time of my life that would certainly bore anyone.

  “Hey, go on,” Lane insisted, grabbing my hand and keeping us moving through the trees.

  “Really? It must sound so silly and touchy-feely.”

  “Let me be the judge of that,” he said, and pumped my hand.

  “Well, it was right after I left rehab and was on my own for the first time in ninety days. The worst was behind me, I hoped, but I still felt really alone. My dad wanted to come and be with me, but we were never close like that, and I grew up without a mother.”

  Bess paused for a moment in her story, reaching out her free hand to stroke Brooks’s head as he trotted beside her. “So I got a dog. One Saturday I went over to the pound, and they had a litter of puppies that had been abandoned in a barn. I felt so bad for those little guys, I wanted to take all of them. But I could barely take care of myself, let alone eight puppies.” She tugged affectionately at Brooks’s ear. “And then this one tumbled over to me. He was tripping over his own big paws and kept trying to jump in my arms. I picked him up and didn’t put him down until it was time to get in my car to go home.”

/>   This time, Lane came to a halt and grabbed my cheeks, bringing me in for a kiss before he said, “Bess Williams, you are magnificent.”

  Brooks sat down right at our feet in between us and stared up at us like we were the two weirdest creatures he’d ever laid eyes on.

  “Would it be wrong if I said I want to turn around and go back to your house and strip you naked?” Lane said, interrupting my thoughts.

  “No,” I choked out, already breathless and barely able to speak.

  Practically racing back up the hill, we made it to my door in record time. I unlocked it, let Brooks in, and by the time he was finished shaking the moisture off his fur, we were ripping our coats and shoes off, leaving a trail of clothes behind us as I led Lane to my bedroom.

  We fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. Lane helped me scoot over, smoothing the hair around my face as my head fell into the pillow, lightly tracing down my neck and collarbone with his tongue. A hot trail formed where his warm breath laid tracks barely cooled by the mountain air swirling around my room.

  My hands and hips reached for him of their own volition, betraying any rules I had put into place where it came to my heart or unwanted disruptions in my very organized simple life. Apparently my body didn’t mind complications as long as it meant Lane was inside me.

  He slowly licked a path up my inner thigh, taking so long that I was squirming when I begged, “Lane, now!”

  “Be patient,” he breathed out, and went back to teasing me.

  My heart pounded in my chest, my own breathing coming in pants, and when he finally landed where I wished he would, my body yelled, Yes!

  His strokes were both tender and rough, patient and urgent—a living, breathing contradiction, much like our lives and paths crossing.

  With a final sweep of his tongue, I came. My orgasm was hard and furious, my body angry that I’d waited so long since I last saw Lane, sending chills spiraling through me that were almost punishing.