Bound to be Dirty

by Savanna Fox

  Well, this damned offer was pretty clear evidence of his decision. Did he think she’d just go along? That she’d choose him over her long held, deeply rooted dream of having kids?

  Would she?

  She rested her head in her hands. She’d been sure they were heading in the right direction together. Discussing things, sharing, trusting each other. And now, just like her parents, he didn’t give a damn about what she needed and wanted. He was trying to steamroll her into going along with what he wanted. With his vision of their future. A childless future.

  No, she wasn’t building any future with a man who shut her out this way.

  Tears slid down her face and that horrible hollow ache was back in her heart. It was over. This time, their marriage really was over. And it hurt even more because she’d let herself hope.

  In a daze, she shoved the folder back into the envelope and returned the envelope to its position underneath his netbook. She walked to the bathroom where she splashed cold water on her face. Her reflection stared back at her, eyes glittery with tears. She swallowed, trying to force the tears back. Dax wasn’t worth crying over.

  But . . . was that really true?

  She pressed her hands against the counter of the vanity, the marble cold and slick under her palms. And she remembered . . . The summer when she’d fallen in love with him, and the dreams they’d shared then. The way he’d opened up to her recently, revealing painful things he’d never spoken of before. The many discussions they’d had over the past couple of weeks; the romantic gestures; the steps forward and back. After all that, would he really try to impose his vision of the future on her?

  Her breath caught as a new idea struck her. Did he think she was trying to impose her vision on him? He’d asked her what she’d do if she had to choose between him and having children, and she’d told him she didn’t know. It was the truth, a truth that had the potential of ripping her heart in half. But had he heard it as a threat?

  Even if he had, what did this offer to buy a one-bedroom cottage mean?

  He would tell her. She couldn’t give up on him.

  Steadier now, she washed her face again and applied a touch of eye makeup to conceal any signs of tears. She heard the front door open and went to greet Dax.

  His cheeks were flushed, his eyes bright. “Okay, almost ready. I’m taking you for a ride.”

  “Oh? Where?”

  “A surprise destination. I’ll be back in a minute.” He headed down the hall.

  Let me guess, Bowen Island? She held back the words, collected her purse, and pulled on boots and her sheepskin jacket.

  He returned and caught her hand. “Ready?”

  “All set.”

  They rode the elevator down to the basement and climbed into the Lexus.

  “You know I don’t do that well with surprises,” she warned.

  “Yeah, but you’re trying to be more flexible and spontaneous, right?”

  She pressed her lips together. If she hadn’t found the real-estate contract, how would she feel now? Pleasantly anticipatory that Dax was taking her on an adventure. “Right.”

  Dax drove out into the sunshine and they both put on sunglasses. Stuart McLean’s Vinyl Café was just starting on CBC Radio. Telling herself to be patient, Lily tried to focus on one of McLean’s stories about husband and wife Dave and Morley.

  As McLean spun the story in his measured style, Dax drove down Broadway to Cambie, over the Cambie Street Bridge, through downtown, and over the Lions Gate Bridge. Yes, they were heading toward the Horseshoe Bay ferry terminal. Periodically, Dax laughed at something McLean said. The fingers of his left hand tapped the steering wheel as if he was full of nervous energy.

  When he took the road to the terminal, rather than the Sea to Sky Highway that led to Lions Bay, Squamish, and Whistler, she said, “One of three options: Nanaimo, the Sunshine Coast, or Bowen Island. You know I’ll find out when you pay the fare.”

  “Yeah. I thought of blindfolding you all the way, but that’d be hard to explain to the cashier.” He pulled up to one of the booths and told the woman, “Bowen Island, please.”

  She took his credit card and directed him to a lane in the terminal.

  Thinking of how she would normally act, Lily said, “We talked about looking for a place on Bowen. If we’re going to scout out locations and places for sale, why’s that such a big secret?”

  “Relax and all will be revealed.”

  Relax. Hah.

  The ferry was starting to load. Dax drove on and parked. “It’s a twenty-minute trip. Want to stay in the car or go on deck?”

  Despite the sunshine, it would be windy and cold on deck. “I’ll stay and listen to Vinyl Café. You go on; I’m sure you’d like to get outside.” And she could use the time apart. It was stressful, sitting next to her husband and worrying about the meaning of that real-estate offer.

  “Sounds good.” He swung out of the car, leaving the radio on for her.

  Stuart McLean’s style of presentation wasn’t exactly dynamic, yet it was compelling. The appeal of the Dave and Morley stories was how relatable they were. The couple was a normal husband and wife with two children, going through a normal life with ups and downs, humor and sorrow. A shared life. The kind of life Lily and Dax had never had. And, quite possibly, never would. She blinked back tears.

  It wasn’t long until Dax was back and the ferry docked. When he drove off, he pulled over to the side of the road, letting the other ferry traffic pass by. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out the silk scarf she’d bought in Whistler. “Take off your sunglasses and blindfold yourself.”

  She didn’t take the scarf. “You’re not serious?”

  “Call me Falcon and obey.” His tone was mostly joking but held an undertone of seriousness.

  No, this wasn’t the time for sex games, and she wasn’t in the mood for an unpleasant “surprise.” Yet if she hadn’t found the damn contract, she’d likely think this was fun. “Fine.” She took the scarf and wound it around her head.

  “You can’t see anything?”

  “I can’t.”

  He pulled onto the road again.

  It was disconcerting being blind in a moving vehicle, and she gripped the armrest on the door to steady herself. Even though Bowen was so close to Vancouver, this was the first time she’d been here and she had no way of getting her bearings. There wasn’t much traffic, only the occasional sound of an oncoming car passing. The road got bumpier, and she sensed they were going uphill. Dax pulled the car to a stop and turned off the ignition, abruptly silencing Stuart McLean. Lily realized that, since the program was still on, it must be less than an hour since they’d left home.

  He touched her arm. “Stay here and keep the blindfold on. I’ll be back for you in five minutes.”

  “Fine.” No, it wasn’t fine at all. She could have asked him to put the key back in the ignition so she could hear the end of the story. But at this point, she didn’t give a damn how Dave and Morley’s story ended. Hers and Dax’s was the only one she cared about.

  “Promise me you’ll keep the blindfold on.”

  She swallowed. “I promise.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart.” There was tenderness in his voice along with the excitement. She blinked against the blindfold, forcing back tears.

  Dax released her arm and got out. He opened the trunk then closed it again. Gravel crunched. Then all was silent and she was alone.

  She could peek. She could remove the blindfold and opt out of his game. But she would keep her promise and try to cling to the remnants of trust and hope. It was possible she’d misinterpreted the situation, and Dax truly cared about her and her dream for the future.

  Gravel crunched again, a warning before the passenger door opened. Dax’s hand gripped her arm. “Climb out carefully. I’ve got you.”

  She stepped down and found her footing.

  He put his arm around her and urged her forward, steering her along a gravel path that inclined slight
ly upward. “Steps,” he said. “Going up. Four of them.”

  Side by side, they mounted the steps. He turned her to face the way they’d come. “Close your eyes.” His fingers worked at the knot she’d tied in the blindfold, then the fabric fell away from her head. His arm came back around her shoulders. “Open your eyes, Lily.”

  She obeyed, blinking against the sudden glare of sunshine and then focusing on a stunning view. Roughly grassed land dropped gently away in front of them, down to a wooded area. If there were houses below, the woods hid them, and she looked straight out at the ocean, choppy today, with sun sparkling off white caps. “Wow.”

  “And look over there. See the stream?”

  Her gaze followed his pointing finger to the right, where bare-branched trees meandered in a straggly line, and through them sunlight glinted off water.

  “Imagine it in the spring,” he said. “Dogwoods in bloom, the stream burbling, the fields scattered with wildflowers. Sailboats out on the ocean.” He hugged her closer. “Total privacy, not a neighbor in sight.”

  It was a view to fall in love with, for sure. But she knew that she stood on the porch of a house built for a childless couple. Still, she gave him the truth. “It’s a wonderful view. I imagine it’s lovely in all seasons.”

  “Now come inside. You’ll have to use your imagination.”

  Imagine a life without children? Could she do that? If he intended to steamroll her and issue an ultimatum—him or having children—then no, she couldn’t. If he opened his heart to her, though, and told her why he couldn’t envision having kids and begged her to let their love be enough to fill her heart . . . What on earth would she do?

  She squared her shoulders. First, she needed to know the truth. Maybe then, her heart would give her the answer.

  She turned and saw the wooden-shaked front of the cottage from the real-estate listing. When Dax shoved the door open, it groaned. My sentiment exactly. Biting her lip, she stepped through.

  The door opened into a small living room. Hideous dark fake wood paneling lined the walls, grotty orange shag carpet covered the floor, and the room was empty of furniture. A small fire crackled in an attractive old-brick fireplace. In front of the fire Dax had spread the rug they kept in the trunk of the car, and beside it sat a cooler and a shopping bag with a loaf of French bread sticking out. So that was where he’d been this morning: buying picnic food to bring here.

  The scene in front of her was a combination of hideous and charming.

  Her mouth dry, Lily forced herself to say, “Another picnic in front of a fire? You brought me a long way for this.” She faced Dax and gazed up at him. Now he had to tell her what was going on.

  His gray eyes glowed silver with excitement. “I spent my spare time this week checking out properties.”

  “You didn’t tell me.” Yes, it sounded accusing, and that was how she felt.

  “You were busy, interviewing the new office manager, working with your receptionist to figure out what kind of reports she could produce. Then you had your volunteer work yesterday. I didn’t want to waste your time.”

  “Dax, we’re supposed to be sharing things. Discussing things.” Especially the one most critical decision: whether he wanted to have children.

  His face fell. “I’m sorry. I just thought I’d narrow things down.”

  Narrow things down to a single property that he was ready to make an offer on. Right. Pretending innocence, she said, “So today we’re touring the places on your short list?”

  “Only this one. I saw it yesterday and it seemed perfect.”

  “Perfect,” she echoed flatly. A one-bedroom cottage was perfect?

  “It’s an hour’s commute to your clinic by ferry and car, with a ferry every hour. There’s also a seasonal water taxi for commuters. The property’s two acres, beautiful land. When I saw the land, the view, I was sold.”

  “Your own personal piece of wilderness.” She could understand what that meant to him. Even believe that it might be great to live here. To raise children here. She could imagine a little girl and boy running through the wildflowers, floating sticks in the stream, going to the beach with their friends. Except Dax’s vision didn’t include those children.

  “Our piece.” He touched her cheek.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the slight roughness of his calloused fingers against her skin, then broke away. “Show me the rest of it.” Realizing she was warm, she took off her coat and hung it on a doorknob. “That fire throws a lot of heat.”

  He took off his jacket too, and tossed it on the floor. “The heat’s been on for a while. I had the Realtor come in this morning to turn it and the water on, and to lay a fire so it’d be ready to light when we arrived.”

  Dax had thought of everything. Except the one thing that really mattered to Lily.

  He moved across the room to a doorway. “Kitchen’s here. Nothing special but it has the basics. Nice view from the windows.”

  She joined him and they stepped into a room that was empty of appliances and furniture. It had dingy green walls and tired beige-patterned linoleum. Two or three times the size of the condo’s kitchen, there’d be space for a table and chairs by one window, possibly an island as well. The other window was above the sink. Both let in winter sunlight, making the room bright and almost cheerful. “With some polishing, it could be a pleasant room,” she admitted.

  “It’s better than the bathroom,” he said, taking her hand and tugging her along.

  A short hall led from the living room, with what appeared to be a closet on one side and the bathroom on the other. She grimaced at the stained sink and toilet and the worn floor tile, shower tile, and wallpaper, all in different patterns. There was no bathtub.

  “Not a room you’d want to linger in,” she said. No lovely soaks in the tub with a good book.

  “The bedroom’s better.”

  It couldn’t be worse.

  They walked a few more steps down the hall and entered a room about twelve feet by fourteen, with a long closet at one end. Room for a queen-sized bed, bedside tables, and a dresser—which was all you really needed. A bedroom was for sleeping, reading in bed, and sex.

  Again, there were windows, providing lovely views and, today, sunshine. She could imagine her and Dax using this bedroom, making it attractive. Perhaps installing a glass sliding door to replace one of the windows. But there was only one bedroom. No room for children. “Dax.” She turned to him. Enough of wandering through this cottage, a little house that might, with some hard work and money, be comfortable for a childless couple. Time to resolve this, once and for all.

  And, she realized, time to be honest. She was upset with Dax for not sharing the decisions he’d reached, much less his thought process. Instead of asking him, she’d pretended that she hadn’t seen the offer, and nursed secret resentment. No wonder their relationship was so messed up. They had no idea how to be truly open and honest with each other.

  A sense of calm seeped through her. “I can’t go on like this. With neither of us being honest.”

  He frowned. “I didn’t mean to be dishonest. It was supposed to be a nice surprise.”

  “Right.” Which only showed how out of sync they truly were.

  His frown deepened. “What do you mean about you not being honest?”

  Standing about two feet away, she studied him. So dashing and handsome in a lightweight black sweater, jeans, and boots, with his over-long black hair and sexy beard. Her husband. The husband she’d never really known and possibly never would. “I saw the offer.”

  “Offer? What offer?”

  “The one to buy this place.”

  “Oh, shit.” He whacked his hand against his head. “So much for my surprise. Look, Lily, it’s not like I meant to go ahead and buy it before you saw it and agreed. Both our names are on that offer, right? It’s just, the place only came on the market this week. It’s an amazing buy. It’s an estate sale and the heirs need the money, so they’re in a hur
ry to sell. The Realtor said the property market was slow over the holidays, but it picks up quickly in January. If we want it, we need to move quickly.” Though he sounded a little apologetic, mostly his tone was still excited.

  “And you want it? This”—she gestured, meaning not just the sunny bedroom but the whole run-down place, the cottage that had no room for children—“this is what you want?”

  “We’ve done a lot of talking about different ways we might live, ways that would work for both of us. This is close enough to Vancouver that we could commute, work three or four long days then have the rest of the time off. If we sell the condo, we’d easily be able to handle the mortgage. The Realtor says it’s a good investment too. Not that I’m really thinking of it that way. I’m thinking it’d be our home.”

  “Our home,” she said flatly.

  He ran a hand through his hair, sighed. “Okay, I see you’re not enthused. I hoped you’d see the potential.”

  “Potential? You mean, like fixing up the kitchen and ripping up that horrible orange shag?”

  “Well, yeah, for a start, but . . .” He shook his head. “Wait a minute. I haven’t told you what I’m thinking, have I?”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Dax, I haven’t a clue what you’re thinking.”

  “Okay. Well, even though it’s kind of grotty, I figured it’d at least be livable. The kitchen and bedroom wouldn’t take much work. The bathroom’s a whole other story, but we could live with it for a while. We’d work out a new floor plan, expand the living room, put in a proper big bathroom with a tub.”

  “Oh.” In her experience, you bought a place you liked then furnished it. “You see it as a fixer-upper?”

  “The alternative is to tear it down and start fresh, but I think the cottage suits the land.”

  “Tear it down? Do major renovations? Dax, that would be incredibly expensive.”

  “Not so much. You remember what I was doing when we met, right?”

  Light dawned. “Construction.” It was so long ago and he’d changed so much, she’d almost forgotten.