“Are you sure about that? Could he be Zack-point-two that comes with an insta-family upgrade?”
Lauren bristled at Brooke’s insinuation. She’d meant what she said. Ryan was nothing like Zack, and she didn’t see Tyler as a way to get a jumpstart on the family she’d never started with Zack. “Brooke, I called you for moral support, not a lecture,” Lauren snapped.
“Then tread carefully, will you? Make sure he’s ready to be a partner to you in every sense of the word and he’s not just looking for someone to play mommy to his kid.”
“Thanks. I will. I’ll call you later,” Lauren said, sorry she’d told Brooke about Ryan.
“Lori, wait,” Brooke wailed, but Lauren ended the call and tossed the phone onto the couch. She had hoped Brooke would give her a pep talk, but instead Brooke had made her feel even more uncertain. Perhaps she was right, and Lauren and Ryan didn’t stand a chance.
Lauren ignored the incoming call from Brooke and went to make herself a cup of coffee. She’d work on the outline for her book until it was time for Ryan to pick her up. A jilted husband and star-crossed lovers weren’t enough to make her book a compelling read. The story needed a plot twist, something the reader would never see coming, Lauren decided, her mind already in author mode.
Chapter 57
Lauren worked until half past four, then changed into a pair of jeans and a hunter-green silk top and applied some makeup. She made sure Billy had enough food and water, then put on her sneakers, grabbed a windbreaker from a coatrack in the hall, and was just reaching for her purse when a text popped up on her phone.
Meet me at the dock, Ryan wrote.
“What are you up to, Ryan Kelly?” Lauren muttered to herself as she locked the door and walked around the house and toward the steps that led to the water.
She was surprised to see a sleek sailboat bobbing gently at the dock, the name Paramour stenciled in flowing script on the side. Ryan stood on deck, smiling at her as she approached the boat. He held out his hand and helped her onboard. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her lightly on the lips, but then let her go and directed her toward the stern.
“Is this your boat?” Lauren asked as she took a seat.
“No. It’s my dad’s.”
“It’s beautiful,” Lauren said.
“It’s a Harbor 25,” Ryan replied.
Lauren shrugged. The model number meant nothing to her, but she found the name of the boat amusing. “Why is it called Paramour?”
“Because this boat is my father’s other great love,” Ryan replied with a smile. “My mom says that if he had to pick one, he’d go with the boat.”
“Would he?” Lauren asked, curious to be offered a glimpse into the relationship between Ryan’s parents.
“Possibly. He loves the old girl.”
“I hope you’re not referring to your mother,” Lauren joked.
“No, I’m referring to this pretty lady. She’s been in the family since I was a kid.”
“Where are we going, Captain Kelly?” she asked.
“We are going for a sunset cruise,” Ryan replied. “So sit back and enjoy the scenery.”
Lauren knew little about sailing, but she could tell Ryan was an experienced sailor. He expertly guided the boat through the bay and then into open water. Lauren zipped up her jacket as a stiff breeze filled the sail and whipped her hair about her face. She pulled a hair tie out of her bag and pulled her hair into a ponytail, glad she’d brought her sunglasses along. The amber rays of the late-afternoon sun were still bright enough to make her squint.
“Do you take her out often?” she asked as she took in the endless sea and the golden clouds that sailed lazily overhead. Several other boats were on the water, including a high-speed ferry that was probably heading to Nantucket or Martha’s Vineyard.
“Not anymore,” Ryan replied, sadness etched into the lines of his face.
Lauren ignored the pang of jealousy she felt at Ryan’s words. What he had done before and with whom was none of her business. He was here now, with her, and that was all that mattered. Everyone had a past. And baggage, her mind unhelpfully added.
“Where’s Tyler?” she asked.
“Tyler is spending the weekend with my parents,” Ryan replied softly, giving her a look that made her insides quiver. Lauren turned her face into the wind, grateful for the protection the sunglasses afforded her. She understood only too well what Ryan was suggesting, and her heart beat faster in response. He was still watching her when she turned to face him.
“Then I guess there’s no reason to hurry back,” she said.
“None whatsoever.”
Lauren tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach by focusing on what she did best, transporting herself to another world. She closed her eyes and let her mind take her to the aquamarine waters of the Caribbean. In her mind’s eye, she saw an eighteenth-century ship, its prow slicing through the waves as it bore down on an unsuspecting merchant vessel. Lauren could almost hear the creaking of timber and the snapping of the sails in the wind. A handsome man stood on the bridge, his blue gaze directed toward his prey as the pirate ship steadily gained on the merchantman.
“Open the gun ports and prepare to fire!” he bellowed as soon as they were within range. The crew instantly obeyed, going about their business with calm and skill born of experience. Lauren could almost see the terrified faces of the merchantman’s crew, several sailors crossing themselves as they prayed for divine intervention.
“What are you thinking about?” Ryan asked as he came to sit next to her. He had anchored the boat near an isolated cove, leaving him free to spend time with her.
“I was just imagining Mad Ted on his pirate ship. I wonder what it was called.”
“Is that what I make you think of? Mad Ted?” Ryan asked, clearly taken aback by her answer.
You make me think of all kinds of things, Lauren thought, her belly clenching with desire, but she kept the sentiment to herself. “Sometimes I visualize a scene I plan to write when I’m nervous,” she admitted.
“Are you nervous now?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” she admitted.
“Why?” His breath caressed her face.
“Because you make me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time, and it scares me,” Lauren replied. She hadn’t meant to show such vulnerability, but she couldn’t bring herself to be coy. She wasn’t in the mood for playing games. She’d been sad and lonely for far too long, and she was ready to take a risk, even if things didn’t end as she hoped.
“It scares me too,” Ryan admitted. “I’ve felt dead inside for so long.”
“And now?” Lauren whispered as she looked into his eyes.
“And now you’re all I can think about.”
His lips came down on hers and she gave herself up to the kiss. Her earlier nervousness dissipated, white-hot desire flowing in her veins as she kissed him back. Brooke’s warning echoed in her mind, but Lauren pushed it aside, her need to be closer to Ryan obliterating all reason. She had no way of knowing how things between them would change after this night, but she didn’t care. She wanted to live in the here and now, and what she wanted was Ryan.
The crimson orb of the sun skimmed the horizon, bands of vermillion and gold painting the sky in the vivid hues of a northern sunset, but neither of them paid much attention to its breathtaking glory.
“Is there a cabin?” Lauren asked. She barely recognized her own voice. It was sultry and seductive, her meaning hard to misinterpret.
Ryan pulled her to her feet, led her inside, and shut the door. The cabin was filled with the violet shades of twilight, darkness pooling in the corners and turning something that’d look ordinary in bright daylight into a shadowy private world Lauren longed to inhabit. She unzipped her jacket and shrugged it off, her hands trembling as she slid them beneath Ryan’s T-shirt. His skin was hot and smooth, the muscles in his stomach clenching beneath her touch. He kissed her hard, his intentions clear. He wanted her and
he would have her and she was his for the taking. Ryan lowered her to the narrow bed, Lauren’s fingers fumbling with his belt as he unzipped her jeans and pulled them off.
His hands were gentle and experienced, his mouth hot and hungry as he explored her body inch by inch, bringing her to heights of pleasure she’d forgotten she could attain. Lauren returned the favor, eager to please him as he’d pleased her and relishing every moan and intake of breath as she devoted herself to his pleasure. When their bodies finally came together, she was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with ravenous need. The first time didn’t last long, their long-starved bodies giving in to the exquisite pleasure of their lovemaking, but neither of them minded. They had all night, and they meant to make the most of it.
When they reemerged on deck several hours later, the sky above them was strewn with stars, an almost full moon hanging above the horizon, its silvery light painting a narrow path on the inky waters of the Atlantic.
“We missed the sunset,” Lauren said, a silly grin on her face.
“What sunset?” Ryan replied, wearing a matching smile. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving,” Lauren admitted. Ryan disappeared into the cabin and returned a few moments later carrying a large hamper basket.
“I had it all planned, you know,” he teased as he took out a bottle of wine, a crusty baguette, and an assortment of cheeses, cold cuts, and pâté. “A romantic dinner as we watched the sunset.”
“Well, you know what they say about the best-laid plans,” Lauren replied, and reached for the wineglass he was holding out to her.
“No, I don’t. Why don’t you tell me,” he invited. Lauren just smiled. She was suffused with happiness, a warm glow spreading from her core to the rest of her body as the reality of what they’d done finally penetrated her consciousness.
Ryan opened the wine and poured her some before filling his own glass. He sat down next to her on the blanket he’d spread on the deck and lifted his glass to her. “What are we drinking to?” he asked, his gaze caressing her face.
“To new beginnings,” Lauren replied.
“I like that,” he said, his smile slow and full of promise.
Lauren leaned back and looked up at the stars. She felt ridiculously happy and filled with hope, something she hadn’t experienced since Zack died. “What would you say if I told you I was thinking of buying Holland House?” she blurted out.
“I would ask you why you wanted to do that,” Ryan replied, his eyes now serious.
“Because I want a fresh start.”
“And you think that house will give you that?” Ryan asked, his head cocked to the side as he studied her moonlit face.
Lauren’s happiness evaporated like morning dew. “Were you hoping I’d leave when my lease was up? Is this a summer fling for you?” She hated how hurt she sounded, but her emotions were bubbling dangerously close to the surface.
Ryan looked shocked by the accusation but bit back whatever he was about to say. Instead, he reached for her hand and threaded his fingers through hers, speaking to her as if she were a frightened animal. “Lauren, I don’t do flings. I never have. I don’t want you to leave, ever, but I don’t think you can truly have a new beginning until you’re ready to face what’s been haunting you.”
“You mean Sophie?” Lauren asked, taken aback.
“No, I mean Zack. There’s something still holding you back.”
“There’s something holding you back as well,” Lauren retorted, unsettled by his words. She willed herself not to cry, but she could already feel the sting of tears at the back of her eyes.
“Alicia will always be a part of me, but I’ve accepted her death and I’m ready to move on. I know a new relationship won’t be easy to balance with being a single dad, but I will do my best to be fair to you both. I want to be with you, Lauren,” he said softly. “I love you.”
Lauren’s gaze flew to his face, the breath she’d been holding escaping in a soft sigh. Now that he’d spoken the words, she knew them to be true. She felt the same. She loved him and she didn’t want anything to come between them, especially not the past. “You’re right. There is something I haven’t told you,” she admitted. “I was too ashamed.”
“Ashamed of what?” Ryan asked gently.
The moonlight cast its silvery light onto the deck, its embrace comforting after the harsh glare of reality. Lauren sighed. She hadn’t told anyone, not even Brooke, with whom she’d shared everything since her college days. Ryan sat quietly, waiting for her to say something, and she knew she was going to. She needed to talk about it, and perhaps sharing with someone who hadn’t been connected to her previous life was the best way to unburden herself. She gazed up at the indifferent stars and began.
“Many people attended Zack’s funeral. Some I knew; some I didn’t. Everyone came up to me and offered their condolences and said something nice about Zack. Mostly I just nodded and thanked them, unable to engage emotionally on a day when my husband was being laid to rest. I just kept thinking that I had to get through the day, see it done, then I could go home, lock myself away from all these prying eyes and kindly sentiments, and quietly fall apart. I tried to fix my attention on minor details in order to keep some degree of detachment from what was happening. It was all too much, too soon. I’d just learned Zack was dead a few days before and had accompanied the funeral director to the airport the day before the funeral to take possession of Zack’s casket. My parents had come with me. If they hadn’t, I might not have survived the moment his coffin was unloaded from the plane, the top covered with an American flag, a tribute to a fallen hero,” she said caustically. “I wanted to snatch that flag and rip it to shreds. It had taken my husband from me, had stolen my future.”
Lauren wiped away the tears that had begun to fall. “Of course, I knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault. It had been Zack’s decision to join the army, and to sign up for another tour. The government wasn’t to blame. At least the powers that be had returned him to me and given me the opportunity to say goodbye and bury him in a place I could visit, but I hadn’t had enough time to process and get a handle on my grief,” she explained.
Ryan silently handed her a paper napkin, and she wiped her eyes and blew her nose before continuing. Speaking of that day still hurt. It was as if her lungs were suddenly empty of air and her stomach hurt, but now that she’d started, she had to get to the end.
“There was a woman at the funeral. Pretty. Mid-twenties. She didn’t seem to know anyone and took a seat at the very back, crying quietly as if embarrassed by her emotions. I wondered who she was, but then the funeral service began, and I had to work hard to keep it together. I know people expect to see tears and naked grief, but those things were for me alone, not for anyone else, and I simply couldn’t bare my soul in that way. I sat there, stiff and tense, willing myself not to howl or rage at the unfairness of it all.”
Lauren reached for her wineglass and took a healthy swig. This was proving harder than she’d expected. “I saw the woman again at the gravesite, but she didn’t come to the house afterward. Many others did, and they stayed for hours, talking and eating, and refilling their cups of coffee as if this was a party and they were there to be entertained. I heard people laughing, talking about the stock market, showing off pictures of their kids. It seemed that Zack was already well on the way to being forgotten. It was a relief when everyone finally left and I was able to tear off my dress, pull on comfy pajamas, and crawl into bed. My mom offered to stay, but I didn’t want her to. I just curled into a ball and lay there, staring at nothing.”
“Did you see the woman again?” Ryan asked gently.
“Yes. She came to see me a few months ago. Harper Mills, her name is,” Lauren said, the name still bitter on her tongue. “She said she needed to speak to me about something important.”
Lauren stopped speaking and peered at the sky, wishing she could erase that day from her memory, but it was burned into her brain forever. “That day changed everything, in
some ways even more than Zack’s death had. She told me she’d had a baby in November. Finn. She even attempted to show me a picture, but I couldn’t bear to look at it. She felt that as Zack’s son, Finn was entitled to a part of Zack’s estate. Zack would have wanted that, she said.”
“She could have been trying to scam you,” Ryan said. “For all you know, she approached every new widow in Boston.”
“I thought so too, especially since she’d waited nearly a year to come forward. Most people would have gotten rid of their spouse’s personal effects by then, so no chance of a paternity test unless the widow was willing to have the body exhumed. I said as much, and she said she hadn’t planned on approaching me, but she’d lost her job and she was struggling. I still had Zack’s things, including his hairbrush and razor, so getting a sample of his DNA wasn’t an issue. She agreed to a paternity test immediately, probably because she already knew what the results would show.”
Silent tears coursed down Lauren’s cheeks, blurring her vision. The words came out barely audible, her voice sounding strangled. “It came back positive. Finn is Zack’s son. Ninety-nine percent match.”
“So, you came out here to hide and lick your wounds?” Ryan asked as he wiped her tears away.
“Something like that. I couldn’t bear to remain in that apartment, not after everything I believed to be true had been shown to be a lie. When I received the results of the test, I called Harper and asked her to meet me. I needed to talk to her, to understand why Zack had chosen her over me. I wanted to hate her, to rage at her and call her names, but I couldn’t. She is a nice woman, the type of woman I might have been friends with had we met under different circumstances.”
“It could have been just a one-night stand,” Ryan suggested, perhaps thinking that would somehow minimize the extent of the betrayal Lauren had felt.
“It wasn’t,” she replied. “Harper said they met a year and a half before Zack died. He’d come in for a mandatory physical and she’d been the one to draw his blood. They chatted and he asked if he might take her to lunch since he was her last patient before her break. She agreed. She said he wore no wedding ring and didn’t tell her he was married until several months later. Of course, he said he was separated, and it was only a matter of time before he filed for divorce. He simply hadn’t had a good enough reason to rush things along. Until he’d met her.”
The House on the Hill: A Ghost Story Page 30