It wasn’t exactly a declaration of undying love, but it stung the backs of her eyes. She slid her hands under his sweatshirt and combed her fingers through the short, silky hair that grew on his chest. She felt the sharp intake of his breath and the heavy beat of his heart. “I want to be with you, too,” she said and her heart swelled yet again.
Then, with her body, she showed him without words how she felt. And through the tangle of their clothes and the cramped confines of the sleeping bag, he touched her as if he felt it, too. He caressed her as if she were fragile and very important to him. Beneath the shooting stars, he made love to her as if they were the only people on the planet. Beneath Cassiopeia, she felt as if she, too, were circling the heavens on her head.
She forgot all about bugs and beetles and lay wrapped up in the arms of the man she loved. And while that was incredibly scary, it was also incredible. For the first time since she’d driven into town, leaving wasn’t quite so clear. She wondered what she would do if he asked her to stay. She’d fallen in love with the sheriff of a town without a Nordstrom, a movie theater, or even a 7-11. She wondered how she would live without him if he didn’t ask her.
In the morning, he made her a dreadful breakfast of oatmeal and dehydrated eggs, which was only slightly better than the dinner of dehydrated stew he’d made the night before. He laughed and kissed the snarled part in her hair and called her high maintenance.
They repacked their backpacks and made it down the mountain in half the time it had taken them to hike up. When they got back to Dylan’s house around noon, they peeled off their clothes and fell into bed without even bothering to shower the trail dust off their skin.
Exhausted, Hope didn’t remember falling asleep before her eyes opened again. A bit disoriented at first, she glanced at the bedside table and recognized Dylan’s clock. Beneath the sheet, his chest was pressed to her back and his hand rested between her bare breasts. Through her thin, silky underwear, she felt his hot groin shoved against her behind. She figured his grasp must have awakened her. She could still smell the scent of Dylan’s cook stove in her hair and on their clothes, which lay in a heap next to his bed.
Her eyes drifted shut, then popped open again. She had a feeling like someone was watching her and raised herself onto her elbow. She glanced down at the end of the bed. Adam Taber’s big green eyes stared back at her. His face looked blank, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend what he was seeing.
“Dylan,” Hope whispered. “Wake up.”
His only response was to cup her breast and pull her tighter against his chest.
She took her gaze from Adam and glanced over her shoulder. She nudged his big chest with her elbow. “Dylan, wake up.”
“Hmm?” His lids fluttered open. “Honey, I’m too tired,” he said, his voice rough from sleep. But he wasn’t too tired to slide his hand down her stomach to her hip and back up again. “On second thought, I’m never too tired.”
“Dylan!” She grasped his hand through the sheet. “Adam’s home.”
“What?” The hair on his chest tickled her back as he lifted himself up and glanced toward the end of the bed. A prolonged silence filled the room as father and son stared at each other. “Adam,” he began slowly, then cleared his throat. “How did you get here?”
“Mom brung me.” Adam pointed to his left, and both Hope and Dylan shifted their gazes to the tall blonde leaning against the doorjamb. She wore leather pants the color of buttermilk and a silk blouse of the same color. She looked vaguely familiar, but Hope didn’t believe they’d ever met.
“I guess we should have called,” she said as she straightened. “I’ll just wait in the living room for you two to get dressed.” She held out her hand to Adam. “Come on. Let’s go wait for your daddy out here.”
Adam stared at his father and Hope for several seconds, then walked out of the room.
“Jeez-us,” Dylan swore as he fell back onto his pillow. He plowed his fingers through the sides of his hair and stared up at the ceiling. “What in the hell is he doing home? It’s not Sunday, and what is Julie doing here? This is messed up. This is a goddamn nightmare.”
Hope sat up and held the sheet to her chest. “What do you want me to do?”
“Did you see Adam’s face?” He sighed and covered his own face with his hands. “Hell if I know. Maybe he’ll think you came over and got so tired you just had to take a nap or something. Maybe you fell and hurt yourself and had to lie down.”
“Yeah, and you were just helping me out with a breast exam.”
He looked at her from between his fingers.
“Adam saw your hand moving around beneath the sheet. He’s not stupid. I don’t think he’ll fall for some lame story. Just tell him the truth.”
He lowered his hands. “Please don’t tell me how to talk to my son. I really hate it when people who don’t have children tell me what to do. I’ll decide what’s best for him, and I don’t think explaining my sex life with you is best for him right now.”
“Fine.” She threw off the sheet and rose from the bed. “Tell him whatever you want.” She shut the bedroom door, then picked up her clothes.
“Hope.”
She turned her back on him, stepped into her shorts, and buttoned them around her waist.
“Hope.” He came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I shouldn’t have said that about you not having children. I’m sorry.”
She grabbed her bra and turned to look up at him. He was sorry about the wrong thing. “I respect your moral position and raising your son by example. I really do.” She hooked her bra behind her back and adjusted the straps. “It must be very difficult, but I will not be your nasty secret.” She thought about the times he’d come to her house and parked his truck at Shelly’s. “I will not be something you lie or won’t talk about. I don’t want to live like that.”
“Okay.”
She reached for her shirt and he grabbed it from her hands. “We’ll work through this,” he said. “Somehow. But I’m warning you, Adam isn’t going to like what he saw today. He won’t make it easy for me or for you.” He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “That woman out there is his mama, and he has dreams of the three of us moving in together and living like a happy family. He’s been working on it-”
“Oh, my God,” Hope interrupted and grabbed his wrist. “Juliette Bancroft!”
“I wondered how long it would take you to recognize her.”
“Crap!” She patted her dusty hair. “I look like complete crap.”
Dylan handed her her shirt. “On your worst day, you’re prettier than Julie.”
Which was an outrageous lie but suddenly wasn’t her biggest worry. Now she remembered why the woman in the doorway had looked so familiar, and it wasn’t because of her television show, either. Hope had to get out of the house fast before Juliette remembered they’d met in Blaine’s office a few weeks before he’d served her with divorce papers. During the divorce, Hope had done a few things to get back at her ex-husband. One of them had involved a certain starlet and her secret breast implants.
While Dylan pulled on a pair of clean Levi’s and a T-shirt, Hope stuck her feet in her dirty socks and tied the laces of Shelly’s hiking boots. “I think it would be best if I just hurried up and left so the three of you can talk.”
“Probably, but I’ll take you home.”
“I can walk. It’s only about three miles and I jog more than that every day.”
“I’ll take you.”
“I want to walk. It’ll give me time to think. Really.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep.”
She walked slightly behind Dylan as they moved down the hall to the living room. Adam sat in a recliner, rocking so hard the springs squeaked and the back of the chair hit the wall, bam, squeak, bam. He leveled his angry eyes on Hope, and seeing all that pain directed at her bothered her more than she would have thought possible. It slid right next to her heart and lay there like a c
old lump, and she wondered if they would ever be friends again. She switched her gaze to Juliette, who stood with her back to the room as if she didn’t hear a thing, looking at framed pictures of Adam and Dylan that were sitting on the television.
“Adam, stop that,” Dylan told his son. The chair crashed into the wall harder.
Juliette turned and looked at Dylan. “I always wondered what your house would look like. It reminds me of the house we used to live in when Adam was a baby.”
“You never liked that house,” he said and pointed a finger at his son. “Stop now.”
“That’s not really true.” Juliette’s gaze moved to Hope, and under normal circumstances, she would have been mortified by her appearance, especially compared to the perfect and beautiful Juliette Bancroft. Today, she just hoped the dirt in her hair and the spots on her shirt concealed her identity. “Adam didn’t mention that you had a girlfriend.”
“I’ll just be going now.” With a quick exit out the back door in mind, Hope sort of slid sideways across the room. “I’m sure you all have tons to talk about.”
The recliner slammed into the wall one last time and Dylan pulled his son out of the chair. “I’ll call you later. Say good-bye to Ms. Spencer, Adam,” he said.
Adam didn’t utter a sound, and Hope made it as far as the doorway to the kitchen when Juliette’s voice stopped her.
“Wait! I know who you are. You’re Dr. Spencer’s ex-wife.”
Hope closed her eyes. Crap!
“You work for The National Enquirer,” Juliette added.
Hope looked from the angry face of America’s favorite angel to Dylan. A frown furrowed his brow, and he stood frozen, holding Adam by one arm.
“No, I don’t work for the Enquirer,” she said.
“You were the unnamed source who leaked confidential and privileged information about Dr. Spencer’s patients.” Juliette’s voice rose and she pointed an accusing finger at Hope. “You told them about my goddamn boob job!” Hope was taken aback by the woman’s language. America certainly had never heard foul words pour from her perfect angelic lips. “He told me he couldn’t prove it, but he was certain it was you.”
Under the circumstances, Hope figured Juliette was justified in her anger, but not in front of Adam. “In my own defense,” she began, “Blaine was a pig, and I wanted to hurt him. I didn’t think about who might get hurt, but I’ve always felt really bad that I hurt other people as well. I’m sorry about what happened.”
Dylan finally let go of his son. “You’re a reporter for The National Enquirer?”
“No. About four years ago I was their unnamed source for a few inside stories, and then I did a few freelance articles on fashion blunders. That sort of thing, but I don’t do that now.”
“You write flora-and-fauna articles. Right?”
She didn’t want to tell him. Not like this. “Well, not exactly.”
“What do you write? Exactly.”
But she couldn’t lie anymore, either. Hope took a deep breath and said, “I’m a staff writer for The Weekly News of the Universe. I write Bigfoot and alien stories.”
He leaned his head back and looked at her through a narrowed gaze. “Adam, go to your room,” he ordered without taking his eyes from Hope.
“I don’t wanna go to my room.”
“I didn’t ask if you wanted to. I told you to go.”
As if his feet were made of lead, the boy slowly left the room. No one spoke until the door had shut behind him.
“So,” Dylan began, “the whole flora-and-fauna thing was complete bullshit. You write for a tabloid.”
“I don’t write gossip. I write alien stories,” she said and spread her arms wide. “That’s what I do.”
“And I’m supposed to believe you? After you’ve done nothing but lie about it since you drove into town? Christ! You must have had yourself a good old laugh yesterday when I was showing you all those flowers for your ‘article.’ ”
“I wasn’t laughing.”
“And the whole thing about Hiram Donnelly was bullshit, too, wasn’t it?”
“No, I plan to write that article. I never-”
“How did you find out about Adam?” he interrupted.
She didn’t know what he was asking.
“And how long before I get to read about my son in your paper?”
It took Hope a moment more before she understood exactly what he meant. The secret love child of America’s favorite angel would be big news. Huge. “I would never do that to Adam. I would never do that to you, and as hard as it might be for you to believe, I wouldn’t do that to Juliette, either.”
“You’re right, that’s hard for me to believe,” Juliette said.
Hope looked at the faces before her. Juliette didn’t even bother hiding her anger, and Dylan was becoming more remote as the seconds ticked past. “Who sent you here, Hope?”
“My paper, but not for the reason you’re thinking. They sent me here to take pictures and write articles. Right now I’m writing a series about a town filled with aliens.” She shook her head as her heart squeezed within her chest. “Just last week I used Eden Hansen. Her purple hair and eyeshadow, but I swear I didn’t know Juliette was Adam’s mother until two minutes ago. You have to believe me.”
“I don’t think I even know you.”
Hope covered her heart with her hand, as if she could protect herself from his cold gaze. As if she could protect her breaking heart. “When I first met you, I didn’t tell you what I do for a living because it was none of your business. After I got to know you, I didn’t know how to tell you I’d lied about it, and the time never seemed right.”
“I can think of a few times when you could have said something. Like any time between the Fourth and today would have been good.”
There was nothing she could say except, “You’re right, maybe I should have told you.”
“Yeah, maybe. The very first day you drove into town, I wondered what would bring a big-city girl to a wilderness town like Gospel. I guess I finally know, and it has nothing to do with Bigfoot or aliens or corrupt sheriffs. You found out about Adam and came here to snoop into our lives.”
“Do you really believe that?”
His mouth settled into a grim line and he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.
“I told you I wouldn’t do that to you, and I won’t, but I guess you’ll believe me when you don’t read about it in the papers.” She looked at him one last time and walked out the door, passed the backpacks they’d leaned against the house before they’d raced inside and fallen into bed.
The Idaho sun burned her corneas and she shaded her eyes as she headed down Dylan’s driveway, passed a car she didn’t recognize, and went out into the street. She’d tried so hard not to fall in love with him. Deep down she’d known he would break her heart. And she’d been right.
From the moment Dylan had opened his eyes and glanced at Adam at the foot of his bed, his life had gone straight to hell.
“What do you think she’ll do?” Julie asked him.
“I don’t know what she’ll do,” he answered truthfully. He wanted to believe Hope. He wanted it real damn bad, but he didn’t. “We have to tell Adam we were never married. Before he hears about it from someone else.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if that could suppress the sudden pounding behind his eyes. He’d told Hope so much about his life. A tabloid reporter who’d lied to him. “He needs to be told before he walks into the M & S to buy a pack of gum and reads about it off a tabloid at the checkout counter.”
“Yes, I guess it’s time you told him. Do you suppose there is any chance your girlfriend won’t report this?”
He lowered his hand and looked at Julie. She was worried about her career. “What are you doing here?”
“I brought Adam home.”
“I know. Why?”
She folded her arms beneath her breasts and took a deep breath. “Well, remember when we were in the airport and I told you I needed to talk
to you?”
He didn’t remember, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t mentioned it.
“You probably know I’ve been spending a lot of time with Gerard LaFollete,” she began, assuming he kept up with her business.
“No, I didn’t. Isn’t he a French actor?”
“Yes, and he asked me to marry him. I said yes.”
“What does Adam think of all this?”
“Well, I thought you could tell him.”
Of course she did. Dylan sat on the edge of the couch with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Under normal circumstances, he might not have minded the responsibility of telling Adam about his mama marrying the French dude. That would have made it easier for him to talk to Adam about Hope, but now he didn’t know if he had or wanted a relationship with her. He knew only two things for certain about Hope: one, she worked for a tabloid, and two, he loved being with her. The two shouldn’t have been mutually exclusive, but they were.
He looked up at Julie, standing there as if she expected that he would just naturally handle Adam for her. “No,” he said. “You’ll have to tell him.”
“I tried. Gerard met us last week so Adam could get to know him before I told Adam my plans. Well, Adam behaved so horribly I didn’t get the chance to talk to him about it. I tried to call you, but you were never home.” She sat in the rocker-recliner and shoved her hands between her knees. “He called Gerard the f-word.”
“Whoa! He called your boyfriend a fucker?”
“No. A fag.”
“Oh.” From what Dylan had seen of him on television, the guy did look like he had the potential to swing either way. The few times Dylan had spoken with Adam on the telephone, he’d sounded like he always did.
“I’ll talk to Adam about that, but you’re going to tell him about your marriage plans. Sounds to me, though, like he has a pretty good idea and that’s why he’s acting up.” He leaned back against the couch. “We’ll both tell him that we were never married. If we handle it right, I doubt it will be a traumatic deal for him. The timing could be better, but I don’t see that we have a choice.”
True Confessions Page 23