by Regan Black
He headed out into the backyard. When he reached the shed, he used the flashlight to illuminate the keyhole and unlocked the door.
Stepping inside, he located the light switch and flicked on the lights. Instead of a true storage shed, the well-organized interior looked more like a workshop. Tools hung neatly in pegboard above the large metal workbench, with larger tools like a circular saw on their own stands. In one area, several sheets of plywood along with two-by-fours and four-by-fours were also neatly arranged. Whatever else Bill Mabry had been, he’d clearly been meticulous. The army veteran in Kyle appreciated that.
He took a piece of plywood that looked like it would work and leaned it on the wall near the door. Then he located a hammer and a box of nails, but before he grabbed those, he spied an electric nail gun.
Perfect.
Back at the house, he found Nicole waiting anxiously for him to return. “We’ll get you fixed up in no time,” he told her, careful not to let his gaze linger too long. That way lay only trouble.
He made short work of getting the plywood nailed over the door. “There you go,” he said, placing the nail gun on the counter. “I’ve already locked the shed up, so if you don’t mind, I’ll leave this here for you to put away.” Impersonal and professional, as if he were a repairman who’d been sent there to do a job.
“Okay.” The distraught look she sent him made him feel another pang. Guilt or need or both, all wrapped up in longing. He actually took a step toward her this time, before gathering up his nearly shredded willpower.
“You should be all right tonight,” he continued.
“Right.” She nodded, the panicked look in her eyes revealing she would be anything but all right.
He wasn’t sure who moved first, but he put his arms around her and held on. Meaning only to hug and offer comfort, though his body definitely had other ideas.
Everything shifted—the earth, the atmosphere and definitely him. She still smelled the same, like vanilla and peaches, and her body fit up against his as if they’d been made for each other.
This he thought dimly, trying to think past the roaring in his ears. His blood hummed and his heart pounded. Though he knew distantly that he needed to move, he could no more break away from her than he could stop breathing.
CHAPTER 7
The instant his lips touched hers, he went up in flames. Judging from the sultry moan she made, she did too. All the danger, danger, take evasive action warnings he’d expected to experience went abruptly silent.
Which really didn’t matter. He was so lost in her that he’d never have heard them anyway.
The taste of her, familiar and beloved, intoxicated him faster than any drug. Straight to his groin, to his chest and his heart. Nicole, Nicole, Nicole.
After her initial shocked stiffening, she responded with a fervor that matched his own. They kissed each other as though they’d been starving, a sensory overload of curves pressed against muscle, silken skin and rough hands, and clothes that were in the way.
“Wait.” Nicole’s voice, husky with passion, but firm. “Kyle, stop.”
Of course he instantly did just that, taking a few steps back to put some distance between them. Breathing hard, he eyed her, trying to collect his thoughts and regain control over his own body. He took small consolation seeing her breathing was as ragged as his.
“This solves nothing,” she said. “We’ve got too much unresolved stuff between us.”
“Unresolved stuff.” He tried for a short laugh, a rough bark of sound. “That’s one way of putting it.”
She tilted her head, her expression serious. “No matter what, I’m glad you’re alive. The world is a much better place with you in it.”
Her words inexplicably made his throat tight. She’d always had the ability to slay him with a particular turn of phrase. Now though, he knew better. In his reality, actions spoke ten times louder than words.
He stared at her, unable to respond. If he tried, the roughness in his voice would let her know how much her words affected him. He saw no reason to let her have yet another unfair advantage.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she asked. The teasing note in her voice didn’t match the earnest look in her eyes.
Talk. Everyone wanted him to talk. About what had happened. About how he was dealing with it. About his PTSD. He didn’t want to talk. He had no patience for words, since lies were too easily hidden.
Black and white. Since he’d been injured, he’d come to understand how much easier life was without shades of gray.
The hopeful look on Nicole’s face fell. “Never mind,” she said, and turned away. “Thanks for all your help. I really appreciate it. I’ll let you show yourself out.”
Her tone had gone formal. Distant. Though he didn’t really blame her, it still managed to hurt. Damn.
Yet he couldn’t make himself leave her. Not yet.
He knew better than to go after her. If he touched her again, he knew he’d lose his fragile grip on self-control.
“Are you going to be all right?” he asked her back, feeling as if the question had been torn from him.
“I’m fine,” she said, without turning around, a perfect example of how words could mask the truth. The tightness in her shoulders screamed the truth. She wasn’t fine. Far from it.
Every instinct inside him—man, protector, ranger—urged him to comfort her. While every ounce of self-preservation he relied on for survival told him to simply walk away.
In the end, he turned and headed for the door, hating the way leaving felt more like beating a retreat.
* * *
Nicole shouldn’t have been surprised when Kyle left. But when he’d yanked her up against him and kissed her as if he never wanted to let her go again, her heart had felt as if it would explode from joy. She’d let herself hope against hope that the Kyle she’d known and loved had finally come back to her.
Of course, he hadn’t. What Kyle had been through had irrevocably changed him. She doubted the old Kyle would ever be back again. The knowledge made her want to weep.
Even worse, Bill’s viewing was the next morning. His family had planned it so everything—viewing, funeral and burial—would take place in one, long day. Nicole wasn’t sure why. Though she’d had no say in the arrangements, she’d be expected to go to the funeral home and stand in line near the casket along with the rest of the family. His friends, relatives and acquaintances would file by, say their goodbyes and then offer their condolences to the family.
For three long hours. Nicole knew to wear comfortable shoes since she’d be standing the entire time. She had no idea what she’d say to Dan and Theresa Mabry, assuming she even spoke to them at all. Since Bill had made her sever all her friendships, she had no girlfriends to lean on for support, or to offer to watch baby Jacob while Nicole did her duty as a new widow.
After the viewing, everyone would head to the church for the actual funeral service. From there, they’d go to the cemetery, concluding with a small, graveside service limited to immediate family and any close friends. Nicole couldn’t help but wonder if Bill’s mistress would attend. She couldn’t help but be curious about what kind of woman would have wanted to be with a man like Bill so badly they’d be willing to sneak around with him behind his wife’s back.
At least once this day was finally over, Nicole could move forward with her life.
The next morning, Nicole woke up with a renewed sense of purpose. Instead of hanging over her like a dark cloud, she knew the ceremonial aspect of this would give her a sense of closure. She dreaded being forced to pretend to be comfortable around the Mabry family, but she’d do whatever she had to and put this day behind her.
Apropos of the solemnity of the day, by the time she’d finished breakfast, clouds had darkened the sky to slate. The wind had picked up, and her phone chimed to alert her to a severe th
understorm warning posted for her area. Perfect. Bill himself would have approved. He’d always loved causing drama.
She dressed carefully, choosing a modest black dress in a severe cut, low-heeled pumps and large dark sunglasses. Hair styled, makeup carefully applied, once she was ready, she dressed Jacob in an infant onesie that resembled a suit. Though normally a quiet, happy baby, for whatever reason he took exception to the outfit and began fussing. All she could hope was that he’d settle down by the time they got to the funeral home. Once again, she wished she had a friend who could help her watch him. Since she didn’t, she just had to hope she could keep him occupied and quiet. Either way, it would be a long day.
After filling her diaper bag with necessary supplies, including a change of clothes for Jacob, formula and of course more diapers, she drove herself to the funeral home. As requested, she arrived half an hour before the time the guests had been asked to arrive. A helpful attendant directed her to the room. When she walked in, only Dan and Theresa Mabry were inside. They stood gazing down at the casket, backs to her.
Nicole hesitated. She considered backing away, returning when there were a few more people to act as a buffer between her and the in-laws. But no matter what they thought, she’d been Bill’s wife. They had no idea how much she’d suffered during her marriage to their son. No one did. And now that Bill was gone, no one would ever know.
Steeling herself, she approached the casket, forcing herself to look at her former husband. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Beside her, she heard Theresa Mabry’s audible sigh, but ignored it.
Dan Mabry lightly touched Nicole’s shoulder. “For today, let’s put our differences aside.”
Again Theresa made a sound. It could have been a strangled sort of agreement, though Nicole doubted that. More likely, the other woman had started to protest, but had been cut off by an elbow jab in the side from her husband.
Nicole managed a nod and started to turn away. Before she could, Dan grabbed her arm and pulled her close. “Do you know if Bill had any sort of will?” he asked.
Shocked, at first she couldn’t find any words. Finally, she simply shook him off and moved away. Though she’d made a thorough search of Bill’s office, she hadn’t located anything that would indicate he’d bothered to have a will prepared. He actually had given no thought to the possibility of dying young. From the way he’d carried on, he believed himself to be invincible.
As she considered the reason for such a question, she realized Dan hoped to find something that would legally enable him and his wife to take from her everything she might have gained through her marriage to their son.
Somehow, Nicole made it through the next three hours. Even inside, she kept her huge, dark sunglasses in place. That way, no one could remark on the fact that she hadn’t shed a single tear.
After the last person had trickled through, attendants removed the casket and everyone headed to their cars to drive to the church. Apparently, Dan and Theresa had opted not to use the limo provided by the funeral home. Nicole had wondered about that, especially after the service at church. She’d been curious to see if Dan and Theresa would be callous enough to attempt to ride to the cemetery in a limo without her. Of course, that would cause talk and she didn’t think they’d want that. She really hoped they’d just take their own vehicles, as the thought of being trapped in such a small space with two people who not only apparently despised her but wanted custody of her son made her feel like vomiting. The visitation had been bad enough.
Though the last hour of the wake had been quiet, the church parking lot had already begun to fill up. She found a parking spot and once she’d turned off the engine, took a deep breath and got Jacob’s infant carrier out of the car. She’d fed and changed him in the funeral home restroom before heading here, so he dozed off and on, content.
Dread coiling low in her belly, she walked slowly toward the door.
Though she hadn’t been back to the church since Bill died, everyone greeted her warmly, expressing sympathy at her loss even though most of them had been at the visitation. But many had not. She was hugged, Jacob exclaimed over, at least six times before she made it to the sanctuary. This was her parents’ church as well, and the moment they saw her walk in, they made a show out of hugging her and expressing sympathy, just as they had during their very brief appearance at the visitation earlier. Full of regret, she wondered what it might be like to have a normal family, one who didn’t feel the need to constantly pretend for appearances’ sake. Too bad they couldn’t do this and mean it. With them, everything was all for show.
They even did the obligatory fussing over baby Jacob, though neither made the slightest effort to take him from his carrier and hold him. In the three months since his birth, her parents had made it clear that they wanted little to do with her son. They considered him a direct and physical result of her sin. Illegitimate children had no place in their perfect, righteous world.
Despite knowing how they were, she couldn’t help but hope it would be different this time. Of course, it never was. She’d thought she’d let the bitterness go, but she felt it pressing like a heavy weight on her chest. As she looked for her in-laws, she spied them already seated in the front row. Theresa wore all back, including a veil that hid her face. Dan sat staring ahead with a stoic expression.
With her parents right behind her, Nicole moved to take her seat next to them. As she reached the pew, she made a quick decision and stepped back, beckoning her own parents to slide in before her.
Though they both gave her a quizzical look, they complied. She’d known they wouldn’t want to make a show with the entire congregation watching. At least now, Dan and Theresa couldn’t openly snub her. She hoped to continue to block that possibility for as long as possible.
Pastor Theodore spotted her and hurried over, hugging her and patting her back. She’d always liked him. When she’d been a child he’d always treated her kindly. Even now, with no doubt all kinds of crazy rumors swirling around about her, he gave her the respect due a recent widow. This small kindness gave her strength and had her straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin. Jacob mercifully had stopped fussing and looked around instead, as if he found the proceedings interesting. Nicole hoped he’d stay that way as long as possible.
The service started. The church choir sang hymns and then the preacher began to speak. The Bill Mabry he spoke of bore little resemblance to the cruel, vindictive man Nicole knew so well. As she listened to Pastor Theodore extol Bill’s virtues, she felt slightly queasy, but kept her head high. Glad of the dark sunglasses, she stared straight ahead, expressionless. Though her parents generally went out of their way to avoid helping her, by providing a buffer between Nicole and Bill’s parents, they helped more than they’d ever know.
Finally, the preacher finished, inviting anyone else who wished to speak about the deceased to come up. Only a couple of people did, both men who’d worked with him.
The rest of the day passed more quickly. The ceremony at the cemetery was short. Nicole stood alone, the last to drop her red rose on the casket once it had been lowered into the ground.
Dark glasses still in place, she scooped up Jacob and headed to her car. She’d just gotten him buckled in the back and turned the ignition when the skies opened up and it began to pour.
On the way home, she went through a coffee shop drive-through and ordered a large latte. Hot coffee and rain went a long way toward making her feel better. Even little Jacob, who’d begun to fuss a little, allowed himself to be lulled by the motion of the car. Loath to wake him, she drove around a little bit instead of going home.
* * *
Because he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her, Kyle had known this would be a long, rough day for Nicole. He hadn’t known today was her husband’s funeral and burial until he’d gone out for breakfast. Everyone in the café was talking about it, almost as if this funeral was the s
ocial event of the year.
As he ate his solitary meal at the breakfast counter, he listened. Nicole—pretty, popular, vivacious Nicole—had apparently been widely regarded as reclusive and antisocial. She rarely left the house, it seemed, and the few times she did, her husband was always at her side.
Kyle wondered why no one thought that sounded more like a prisoner than anything else.
For the rest of the day, he found himself thinking about Nicole. How she was doing, if she needed help with the baby and where she was at that moment. He actually debated swinging by the cemetery and watching from a distance, but that sounded way too creepy, so he talked himself out of it.
He stayed home, worked out, watched some mindless television, ate and worked out again.
When the rain came, the storm raged fast and furious, matching his mood. He seemed to have no control over his emotions these days. He could start out feeling pretty good, energetic and happy and then an hour later find himself wallowing in a kind of black despair that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to crawl out from under. The anger was the worst, right after the jumpiness and uncertainty. He’d gone and purchased a punching bag from an athletic store, figuring hitting that would be better than slamming his fist through the sheetrock.
Today it seemed he was destined to experience a complete gamut of moods. He knew some of this had to do with how badly he wanted Nicole and how much he hated himself for wanting her.
Finally, he knew he had to get out of his house. Rain or no rain, so he took himself to a nice little coffee shop midway between him and Nicole. As he always did, he ordered a large coffee, black. He’d never been one for those fancy lattes or flavored coffees.
He took a seat near the window, watching the rain come down in sheets, and felt calmer. His phone had flashed up several alerts, from a Severe Thunderstorm Warning to a Flash Flood Warning. Funny how severe weather had a way of putting things in perspective.