Bed of Lies

by Teresa Hill

  "Although," he said, smiling wickedly, "if there's anything in particular you'd like, anything I could do for you here in bed—or anywhere you'd like—just say the word. I think I've been... selfish."

  "No," she insisted. "Never."

  "I've taken and taken—"

  "No, it was... I have trouble... letting go sometimes. Trusting someone enough to... I feel safe with you. It's a little crazy and edgy and so good, and yet... I feel safe, too. It doesn't seem like all of that could exist together, but... that's how I feel."

  He cupped her face with one of his hands. "Good. I want you to always feel safe with me. And appreciated and satisfied. So, what can I do for you, Julie? What would you like? Name it. It's yours."

  The look in his eyes, that wicked bit of heat and the sincere but naughty promise, had her blushing and practically incoherent. A gorgeous man she'd daydreamed about as a teenager was in her bed, wonderfully naked, offering to fulfill any sexual wish she might have.

  "I don't... There's nothing I need right now. I'm... perfectly happy. I'm... I might have to think about this for a while."

  "Take all the time you need," he invited.

  She shifted slightly in the bed, her thigh brushing against his body. He was hard. Again.

  "Tired?" he asked.

  "No," she said, reaching out and wrapping both her hands around him, where the skin was so soft, stretched over the thick, hard heat of the cock that felt so good inside her.

  She stroked him gently at first, watching him the way he'd watched her. He really had the most beautiful body, and she felt like she'd hardly gotten to touch him either night they'd spent together. He'd seemed to be so intent on exactly what he wanted, and she'd been happy to give it to him, because it felt so good.

  But she was hungry to have her hands on him now, to make him as crazy as he'd made her. And then she knew.

  "I want to watch you this time," she said.

  He grinned, rolled onto his back and said, "I'm all yours. What do you want me to do?"

  "You're good, right there." She rose up on her knees and then straddled him, took him in her hands once again, watching his face as she gripped him, stroked him and did whatever she pleased with him.

  * * *

  Julie woke alone in the unfamiliar bed, the unfamiliar room, hardly able to believe the twists and turns her life had taken. Zach, Peter, this town, all that she had to do.

  She had almost no time to think about any of it because early that morning, she got a call from the social worker to come pick up Peter. That had been Zach at work, she found out once she got to the group home. He knew the local family court judge and had made a call. The details standing between her and temporary custody of Peter had disappeared.

  Here she was, taking him home.

  Well, trying to take him home.

  Julie stood awkwardly beside the social worker, waiting as Peter reluctantly gathered his things. As she glanced around the place, she thought she must be really low in his estimation if he'd rather be here.

  It was old and crowded, a gray, noisy world. She was sure the people running it did their best, but she just wanted out of there as quickly as possible. Of course, though, that meant being alone with Peter, which made her feel nervous and more than a little intimidated.

  But Zach was here, and he was proud of her and ready to do anything she wanted to please her in bed. As if he had to try any harder to thrill her completely.

  She glanced guiltily at Ms. Reed, a friend of the mother of the woman who was likely by now officially Zach's ex-fiancée. How long would it take for that news to trickle down to Ms. Reed, she wondered?

  Julie sighed heavily. She just wanted to go back to last night with Zach.

  He'd slipped out very early that morning, leaning over and kissing her softly before he left. When she'd finally woken up, she'd thought it must have been some kind of bizarre dream, that he'd ever been there with her, that he wanted her so much, even if it was just sexually. Zach and Julie Morrison, the lost girl, the liar.

  It couldn't be any more than sex and him just being a little bit lost and confused right now. Guys like him didn't fall for girls like her. Good things didn't happen to her. They never had. And having Zach would be a very, very good thing.

  Her life was this—her parents in jail, accused of taking money from the bank, and Peter grumbling and wanting to stay in kiddie jail, rather than with her.

  He finally got his things bundled up in his duffel bag and a backpack, and they left. Then he sat in the back seat of the car, sulking the whole way.

  At the house, Peter headed for the stairs without a word to either of them, but Ms. Reed stopped him and ordered him into the living room, where she proceeded to lay down the law. This was a temporary arrangement, and if it worked out, he might be allowed to stay here with Julie. But any reports of trouble—missing school, fighting, drinking, drugs—and they'd have to rethink this arrangement. She'd be checking up on them both.

  Peter looked utterly disinterested. Ms. Reed dismissed him, and he left. She got to her feet and held out a hand to Julie. "He's all yours now."

  It was all Julie could do to keep from wincing and saying, You're going? Really? It suddenly struck her as sheer lunacy that anyone would entrust a child to her care.

  "Want some advice?" Ms. Reed asked.

  "Yes, please."

  "Don't sweat the little things, especially at first. See that he eats, that he puts on clean clothes and takes a shower every now and then. That he goes to school, does his work, keeps his appointments with his therapist. Count that as a victory."

  "Okay." Julie nodded. That didn't seem like so much to ask.

  "He's really angry, and that's going to come out, probably directed at you. It won't be pleasant, but it's not the end of the world, either. Let him get it out. Talk to him whenever you have the chance, even when it doesn't seem like he's listening, and hopefully, once he figures out he's not going to drive you away, he'll open up to you."

  "That's it?" Julie asked.

  Ms. Reed broke into a grin. "Easier said than done. I'll be back on Friday." Julie was afraid she'd be counting the minutes.

  She managed to not beg the social worker to come back inside and stay, to not leave her with this sullen stranger.

  The social worker's car pulled away as the mailman made his way down the street. Julie stayed outside to take the mail from him herself, and he made her sign for a large, ominous-looking manila envelope from the bank. Not the one where her mother had worked. Inside, she found legal-looking documents referencing a mortgage number. She winced at the amount owed, the payments missed.

  The red stamp in the corner said Foreclosure Notice. Lovely.

  From upstairs, music blared, loud enough to make her wince even while standing on the front porch. Was she really going to have to resort to saying, If you don't turn down that music, I'll...

  She couldn't remember what came afterward in the well-worn motherly threat. Maybe the electricity would be cut off soon, and the music would go with it, and she'd never have to fight this particular battle. Plus, she wasn't supposed to sweat the little things. The social worker said so. Music was little, she decided, until she got a headache from it. Foreclosure was a big one. That one, she'd have to try to do something about.

  She sat down on the front steps, her gaze drawn to the space where she'd first spotted Zach in his car across the street and realized he was home.

  He was right down the street, and for some reason he wanted her.

  She wasn't in this alone.

  Chapter 12

  Zach slept deeply and peacefully, and when he finally woke up, the world, for the first time in ages, didn't seem quite so grim.

  How could it, after the night he'd had?

  Laughing to himself, he thought he'd managed to sneak in before his parents woke up and knew he had been out all night—and wasn't that a ridiculous thing to pull at his age? He hadn't been able to stay away from Julie for even twelve additiona
l hours, until he'd officially broken off his engagement, and he hadn't told her any of the things he needed to. Because once he'd seen her in that old, creamy silk nightgown, he'd just devoured her instead. Even his guilty conscious couldn't make him regret that, fair to her or not.

  But he did have things to do, first on his list being to see Gwen. After showering and dressing, he padded downstairs in his bare feet, his hair still damp. His mother was in the kitchen on the phone.

  "He's okay. Shaken, but okay, and we've got him now. We just won't let him go."

  He smiled, imagining his mother barring the front door if he tried to get out before she was willing to let him go. His mother was the gentlest soul imaginable until someone she loved was in trouble, and then she was fierce. She really would have dragged him back from Memphis if he'd stayed away much longer. Now that he was home, his family wouldn't let him leave until he faced up to all of this.

  "Okay," she said. "I'll call you when he gets up."

  She hung up the phone. Zach took the last three steps into the kitchen. "Grace or Emma?"

  "Emma. Grace called earlier. She said to tell you she loves you and that she expects to see you sometime today. Or else." His mother came up to him and put her arms around him, squeezing him tight. "Did you sleep well?"

  He nodded, amazed to have gotten through the night and actually feel this good this morning. Last night, he'd gone so far as to wonder if they'd call one of Emma's colleagues to come stick a needle into his arm, give him something to calm him down, then cart him off to a nice, soothing psychiatric hospital. He'd felt that out of control talking to his parents while still trying to hide how bad it was. Of course, it could turn bad all over again, and he could still end up at the psych hospital. He should have brushed up on the laws involving involuntary commitment, just in case. He wasn't really all that afraid that his parents would try it, though, as he feared he might actually need that kind of help.

  But he'd made it through another night, and Julie was just down the street.

  "What are you planning to do today?" his mother asked.

  "I have to go talk to Gwen."

  "She's home?"

  Zach nodded. "Are you going to let me go that far by himself if I promise to come straight home, Mom?"

  She grinned. "You're not going to run away anymore?"

  "Not anymore," he promised, then took both her hands in his and brought them to his lips, thinking about the things he'd learned about his parents yesterday. "I still can't believe you and dad almost separated."

  She looked both sad and amazingly kind at the same time. "Zach, life gets really hard for everybody at times. That's just the way it is. You can't expect to do well at handling everything life throws at you. It's not like a test you either pass or fail. It's a series of endless tests and rewards. Sometimes surviving alone is a victory."

  He nodded. It still felt like a test, still felt like he was flunking, and he couldn't remember ever failing a test. But he didn't feel as desperate or alone as he had.

  "You're being too hard on yourself," she said. "But we'll work on that."

  He could just imagine what that entailed. Some nice, understanding colleague of Emma's? He couldn't quite see himself with a shrink, lying on a couch, spilling out childhood traumas. He didn't think he had any, save for those vague, scattered memories of his early years. If he barely remembered them, how could they be screwing him up so much now? He was a grown man, for God's sake.

  Over the years he'd seen so many kids in his practice who'd endured horrible things. He knew their lives were so much more screwed up than his. So why was he falling apart this way? It seemed weak, and he would have sworn he wasn't a weak man.

  "It's going to be all right, Zach," his mother said.

  He nodded, trying to believe that.

  He kissed her on the cheek, still kept hold of her hands. "I'm going to see Gwen, and then..."

  "I know where you're going then."

  "Going to tell me to be careful? To make sure I'm doing this for the right reasons and not to hurt her?"

  "No. You've already asked yourself those questions."

  "You're good, Mom. You're really good," he told her, shaking his head. He'd asked himself those things, but he still wasn't sure he knew the answers.

  "What I did want to tell you is that when life gets hard, you want someone by your side who understands and really cares about you. Someone you can depend on. Think about that."

  Zach frowned. He could see wanting a woman he could trust, wanting one who understood, wanting one who was loyal and kind, but to depend on one? He was certain Gwen had never truly depended on him, and that he hadn't depended on her.

  But he was sure as hell depending on Julie right now.

  "All I really know is that I have to see her," he said finally.

  "Well, that should tell you something," his mother said.

  * * *

  Gwen answered the door wearing an old bathrobe of his and probably nothing else. Her hair was all mussed up, her eyes puffy and slightly red, her face pale and bare of anything resembling makeup. He didn't think he'd seen her in anything except a power suit, perfectly groomed, in longer than he could remember.

  She looked almost vulnerable at the moment.

  "Rough night?" he asked casually.

  "I got drunk," she said with a hint of defiance.

  "You don't drink," he said.

  "Which apparently makes it very easy to get drunk, when one decides to do it."

  "Can I come in? Just for a few minutes." She hesitated. He supposed it was worth asking, "If I'm not interrupting anything?"

  "Did you sleep alone last night, Zach?" she shot back.

  "I am sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to come here and accuse you of anything. I know I started this."

  "And you came to finish it, didn't you?" She crossed her arms in front of her, her battle-mode position. It lost something when executed as she was, but she let him in.

  "Do you really think anything is left, Gwen? We hardly saw each other. We had to download our schedules into each other's cell phones to be able to find each other on any given day." The absurdity of it was just starting to dawn on him.

  "We were busy. We had priorities—"

  "Which never involved each other. I'm not blaming you. I'm just saying we never seemed to be that important to each other."

  "I thought we were building something, that you wanted it this way, and that one day..." Her chin came up. Mouth quivering, eyes glistening, she changed tactics. "Dan says you had to be deaf, dumb and blind not to appreciate me."

  "Well, good. You deserve someone who feels that way about you."

  "So you're just giving me to him? Like a piece of furniture or something? You're done with me, and if he wants me, he can have me?"

  "No. I really do think you need someone who appreciates you more than I have, and I'm sorry it took me so long to figure things out. We're a lot alike, you know. And we're comfortable together. We're just not in love."

  "And you think you're in love with this woman who used to live down the street from you? Whose parents are embezzlers?"

  "I'm not sure," he said slowly, telling himself to try not to get his back up. He'd hurt Gwen, and now he just needed to end this. Trying to take the heat out of the words, he said as gently as possible, "I really don't want to hurt you, but I know I'm not in love with you."

  Some women would have crumpled to the floor and wept. Gwen stood her ground, all the more furious. She hated any show of vulnerability or weakness, which meant she must really hate him today.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "But I believe that, once you think about it, you'll realize you're not in love with me, either."

  "Well, that would be convenient, now, wouldn't it? Since you're done with me." She glared at him for a moment, then went to the tiny desk in the hallway, took something from a drawer and held it out to him. It was the ring he'd given her two and a half years ago.

  He held up a hand and said, "Pleas
e, keep it."

  "You don't get to be noble, Zach. It's not your place. Not in this breakup." She shoved the ring at him, and he took it.

  The doorbell rang, and they both stared at the door for a moment.

  "Expecting someone?" Zach asked finally.

  "Maybe."

  He walked over to the door and peered through the peephole, then straightened and gave her a speculative look. "Dan."

  "He's persistent," she said.

  "I'll entertain him while you get dressed, if you like."

  "No, thank you. You can go now. I'll be away all weekend. You can get your things then. I'm keeping the apartment."

  "Okay," he agreed.

  She pulled open the door. Dan looked quite pleased with himself until he saw Zach.

  "Don't mind him. He was just leaving," Gwen said.

  It wasn't the prettiest end to a relationship, but it was done.

  * * *

  Surprisingly, the closer he got to Julie's house, the more he didn't want to be there. Not yet. Couldn't he just wait until dark and slip into her bed again? Not say anything, just be with her? Because that was so much easier.

  But he'd done that twice now, and both times, he'd known it hadn't been fair to her that he hadn't told her what was really going on.

  Help me.

  Did he really have to say that?

  He was afraid he did.

  I'm falling apart.

  He probably couldn't avoid that little gem, either.

  He didn't think she'd run, not when he needed her, and he'd pretty much accepted without reservations that he did. He needed everyone who really cared about him now. It was just the agony of admitting it. Being vulnerable. Being weak.

  Zach remembered his father telling him about those painful days when he almost walked away from his marriage. His parents had almost lost everything important because, in a time of crisis, they'd turned away from each other, each locked in their own misery and guilt, instead of toward each other.