by Soraya Lane
“Ah, excuse me, are you ready to order?” the waitress asked.
Matt kept hold of her, holding her hand still. “Ah, two of the filet mignon with grilled prawns,” Matt ordered, “and I think . . .”—he glanced at Lisa—“we’ll start with the fried calamari. It sounds good.”
“Great choice,” Lisa said. “My favorite.”
“Damn right,” he replied. “May as well start here and try it at every restaurant we head to, for old times’ sake. What do you say?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Lisa held up her glass and he held up his beer bottle, clinking his to hers.
“To us and the road trip of a lifetime,” he declared.
“To us and our little trip,” she agreed, taking a sip of wine.
He watched as she settled back in the chair, her eyes leaving his and turning toward the river. It was almost dark but still light enough to see the water, the sun slowly disappearing low in the distance. And still light enough to see the pensive look on her face, the way she disappeared into her thoughts and never seemed to be all there, not all the time anyway.
“So tell me about this market we’re going to in the morning. Are you looking for fabric or just scouting for ideas?” Matt asked. “It’s great you’re enjoying work so much.”
He’d been worried when she’d launched back into running the store, still designing everything herself without any help, but it seemed to be the only thing that made her happy and that meant he wasn’t going to say anything about the long hours she was pulling. Especially not when it was usually him needing to be scolded and told to get his ass back home.
“I’m thinking super-pretty fabric, soft pinks with gold, short little skirts with stretchy waistbands to make them super-comfy and luxurious, and t-shirts. Like what I did this summer but a bit more whimsical.”
Lisa had that wistful look on her face as she looked at him but through him; the look she’d always had when she’d been dreaming up a new collection or new design. It suited her. And he liked that she was passionate about her work.
“Have you ever actually used not-pretty fabric?” he asked.
Lisa loved anything that was pretty, colorful, sparkly or luxurious. He’d never seen her not looking feminine and gorgeous in her clothes, whether she was wearing low-slung pajama bottoms with cute tanks she’d designed or a dress to wear around the house.
She sighed. “I want to design the opposite of how I’m feeling. Clothes that can make women feel fabulous every day, whether they’re picking kids up from school or going to work.”
“Isn’t that what you’ve always designed?” He smiled. “It’s why all those women are addicted to seeing what you were wearing each day on Facebook when you posted pics.”
Her smile turned to a frown, lips hovering down from the happy upturn he’d been watching. “I don’t want to let them down,” she said quietly. “I never explained why I disappeared for a bit, what I’ve been through.”
“Lisa, you wouldn’t have let them down,” Matt said firmly. “And anyone who doesn’t give you a break after what happened? Tell them to fuck off.” Anger pulsed through his body. Was that what she was worried about? What people thought? He hated to think she was feeling any more guilt than she already had to shoulder.
After she’d lost the baby, been given her cancer diagnosis, she’d shut her Facebook and Instagram pages down. And then when she’d finally left the house, she’d started to post again—he knew because Kelly had told him and he’d checked it out for himself. She’d started to pull away from him at the same time she started reconnecting with everyone else.
“Those women were real; they were friends to me. They shared so much and then I just shut it down,” Lisa confessed. “I didn’t feel right just letting that go, and it started to make me feel better, at least while I was plugged in.”
“It’s good,” Matt said, sitting back as the waitress approached and put the fried calamari between them. “You want to work and do everything that you used to do—why the hell not? It’s you.”
“Because I feel like a fraud, like I’m pretending to be someone I used to be when I post pics of me smiling and wearing a cute dress.”
Matt had no idea what to say to that, how to respond. “Lisa, you’re still the same person. We just have such damn big battle wounds. I don’t get why you have to feel guilty about smiling or dressing up nice.”
“We?” she asked, as if she hadn’t heard anything else he’d said.
Matt took a big breath, looked down at his food. He didn’t want to start an argument. All he’d wanted was to be helpful, to say the right thing. He didn’t want to engage; he decided to change the subject.
“So tell me what you’ve been posting lately,” he said.
The waitress returned and he nodded when she offered them fresh cracked pepper, only taking his eyes off Lisa for a moment.
“Everything. Nothing,” Lisa said absently holding her fork as she glanced between him and the food on the table. “I want to share our road trip, make it look fun.”
He heard what she wasn’t saying. “Let’s hope we can make it fun. Then you won’t have to pretend.”
“Me too,” she whispered, a light in her eyes, a shimmer there that used to be there every time he looked at her but came and went these days. But it gave him hope at least, even if he felt like he was messing things up between them more times than he was getting it right.
“They’ll love it. They always do,” Matt said, pleased they’d managed to avoid anything too heavy. “Don’t you have something like one hundred thousand followers now?”
Matt picked up his fork again, stabbing a piece of calamari and dipping it into a bit of the miso-ginger aioli. Lisa leaned in closer and did the same.
“This is really good,” she said.
Matt took another piece. “When I was growing up, I’d have shuddered at the thought of trying sauce like this. But it is good, surprisingly damn good.”
“So you’re saying I’ve made you more cultured?”
They both laughed away quietly, and it felt good. Matt had missed their easy feeling, the way they’d always been so chilled out with each other, not taking anything too seriously except their work. They’d always been like that, just comfortable in each other’s company, until recently.
He sipped his beer and ate a few more pieces of calamari, watching Lisa as she did the same. When they’d finished, he pushed the plate away. “Come around here.”
Lisa hesitated, but he waited, kept his arm up, kept his smile fixed in place. Eventually she scooted around to his side and tucked up against him on the chair he’d pulled closer. It was a table for four, and he had no idea why they were sitting across from each other anyway.
“I didn’t mean what I said. This is going to be a great trip. It’s just hard to let go,” Lisa said.
“I know,” he said.
“We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?” she whispered, holding on to him tight. “Tell me it won’t always be like this.”
Matt nodded, even though the question scared the shit out of him because he had no idea what the answer was. “Yeah, we are. Of course we are.”
Lisa sat back and looked at Matt, wondering how the hell she’d managed to get a guy so gorgeous. He’d been nineteen when she’d first met him, had a reputation for hooking up with all the girls on the cheerleading team in his final year of school, getting into trouble, drinking too much. She knew that he’d changed when his mom died, had become more of a troublemaker, falling out with his dad and doing a whole lot of stupid stuff to piss him off, but she got that he’d probably wanted to blame someone. Hell, she’d love to pin all the blame on someone, anyone. She wondered how hard it had been, what he’d really been through back then. Because even though she knew what had happened, he’d never wanted to talk about, unless it was to tell her that she’d made everything okay for him.
When they’d met, he’d looked at her and something had happened. She’d never been tha
t into boys, never cared about having a boyfriend even when her friends were hooking up with guys. And then along had come Matt, way too old for her and just finished senior year, and the girl who’d never been self-conscious or been gaga for any boy had suddenly cared about how she looked, how she smelt, how she spoke . . . everything. And she had known that Matt felt the same, had been crazy embarrassed when her sister had stared at her long and hard and demanded to know if she had a crush on him. Or if he’d tried to make a move. The only other time she’d felt that kind of pull toward a guy had been watching football and admiring the sexy quarterback—and she’d soon realized after meeting Matt that he was that guy.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, voice husky as he took a pull of his third beer. They usually didn’t drink a whole lot, but tonight was different. It was grittier and more real, and she actually felt like she was being herself instead of pretending, even if it was a new version of herself.
“Us, how we met.”
“What about it?”
“I was so happy being the good girl, doing well at school, hanging with my friends.”
“And then I corrupted you.” Matt’s chuckle made her smile. “Right from that first day when I stubbed out my last cigarette and saw you at your parents’ pool.”
“You made me see things differently. And I was pretty okay about the corrupting part, if I remember correctly.”
“Hey, I can’t take the full blame,” Matt said. “You were pretty happy to skip school and meet me behind the bleachers. I used to blush just thinking about what you wanted to do to me!”
She cracked up big time, laughed so hard tears trickled down her cheeks, and through her blurry eyes she could see Matt almost doubled over. And it felt damn good. He was repeating her words, had always teased her about what she’d said to him the day he’d pushed his luck and tried to unzip her jeans with one hand, the other already slipped beneath her t-shirt. Matt was experienced and confident, and she’d been shy with no other experiences to compare it to—she’d been all talk, and he’d been all action. It had been forbidden and exhilarating for her; and from what he’d told her, it had been just as exciting for him. She’d been young and just as forbidden in different ways.
“You’re mean, taunting me with that.”
He winked, beer bottle paused against his lips. “But it was just so cute.”
“You loved that I was all doe-eyed and inexperienced.” She sipped her wine, feeling a familiar flush rise through her body that was only a little to do with the wine and a lot to do with the man seated next to her. Even after all these years he still managed to make her pulse race with one long look, one wink. They hadn’t been intimate in so long, but now she wanted him, wanted to rip his clothes off and forget everything else. She wanted hot and sweaty sex—now, not later.
“Damn right I did! But it was more than that. There was an innocence about you I didn’t want to change. Maybe I still don’t. Maybe that’s why this has been so hard.”
She liked that about him, how primal he was about her. Right from the start he’d wanted to protect her, look after her, and she’d never seen the asshole Matt who’d given his dad a black eye one night and never come home on countless occasions, the guy who’d missed football training because he was too stoned when previously he’d been the school’s star quarterback. He’d gone from star athlete and scholar to heading off the rails fast, and she knew his dad was eternally grateful that he’d met her and gone back to the nice, easygoing guy he’d been before his mom died.
“I love how you go all ‘caveman protecting his woman’ when it comes to me.”
“And I love how you bring out that man in me.”
She gazed at him, fingers playing up the stem of her glass. Their food arrived then, but she thanked the waitress without looking at her. It was unlike Matt to be so . . . she didn’t know what it was. He didn’t usually talk like that, never told her how he felt very often.
“Eat your dinner,” he ordered, obviously buzzing from the beer. “This caveman is ready to drag his woman back to his man-cave.”
She laughed, knowing she was blushing, which was so stupid when it was her husband talking to her. It was insane that he could still have that effect on her. Matt was still staring, still intense, his blue eyes twinkling as he watched her. Maybe she was just embarrassed because it was she who wanted him so bad right now, and because it had been a while.
Lisa looked away, down at her food as she picked up her fork, appetite almost gone. When she glanced back, he opened his mouth to say something but obviously changed his mind.
“What?” she whispered.
“I was just thinking how nice this is, being here just the two of us, in a bittersweet kind of way.”
And there it was. No matter how happy they were or what they were doing, it always circled back to her cancer, to what had happened. Happy now felt like a different kind of happy to the happy they’d once enjoyed.
She pushed the evil thoughts away, had to so she didn’t ruin the moment.
“Yeah, me too.”
Lisa held her fork tighter and took the knife into her other hand, making herself smile at the beautiful food on the plate in front of her. She was sitting in a gorgeous restaurant with a gorgeous man, about to eat what looked like amazing food. She needed to push it down, lock her thoughts and memories away before she ruined what was good in her life.
She took her first mouthful of prawn and savored the flavor. It was divine.
“Good choice,” she said, smiling up at Matt.
He’d already eaten a few mouthfuls to her one. “It’s seriously good.”
Lisa ate a mouthful of steak and shut her eyes for a second. It was heavenly. She sipped her wine once she’d finished chewing, sat back and took in her surroundings, the buzz of people as the outdoor area of the restaurant started to fill up. She was so lucky to be here right now, and nothing could take that away from her. She just needed to keep reminding herself that she could have been dying or even dead right now, and instead she was alive, still breathing, still walking. She had a lot to be thankful for. She just needed to start acknowledging it.
14.
Stop!” Lisa laughed as Matt tried to grope her from behind, pushing up her top, wishing she hadn’t had so much to drink. He had his hands on her butt and he wasn’t giving up. “Matt!” she hissed, fumbling with the keys as she tried to get them into the lock. “Someone will see us.”
“So? You’re my wife.”
“It doesn’t mean other people need to see us naked!” she laughed.
Lisa shoved him with one hand and eventually managed to get the key into the lock. She ran through the door, half-heartedly tried to close it on Matt and failed. His big frame filled the door, eyes never leaving hers. She walked backward, the piercing blue irises following her every move, his wide shoulders pushing into the door as he nudged it shut, biceps flexing as he yanked his t-shirt over his head and faced her bare-chested. This was what she wanted. Something to take her mind off everything.
She ran her tongue over dry lips, feeling trapped, exhilarated, alive. Matt was stalking her, his intention clear, the way they’d been looking at each other over dinner still sending licks of anticipation through her. But the way he was staring at her now was so primal, and as much as she wanted to play the game, to tease him, she wanted him, too.
“You remember the night in the cabin?” Matt asked, one eyebrow arched as he waited for her response.
“Always.” She slipped the strap of her dress down, stared back at him. “Only that girl was blushing every time you looked at her naked, and this woman knows exactly what she wants. Right here, right now.”
Matt chuckled. “You’re saying that you don’t think I could make you blush anymore?”
Lisa stopped walking backward and decided to stalk straight back toward him. She slipped off the other strap, paused so her dress could fall off her body into a puddle on the floor, leaving her in just her bra and panties. She
grinned when he let out a low wolf-whistle.
“Oh, I know you can.” She stopped in front of him and ran her fingernails down his bare chest, took a deep breath as she thought about what they were about to do. After so long . . . it was a relief to finally want this again. “In fact, I’m counting on it.” She needed him to make her forget, to pleasure her and make everything else go away.
Matt stayed still, took a big breath that she felt against her hands when she laid them flat to his body. Her own breath was short and sharp, her eyes trained on his, lips parted, waiting, knowing what was coming.
“You asked for it,” he muttered, scooping his hands beneath her butt and walking her backward, throwing her down onto the bed. She watched as he undid his belt and ripped his jeans off in record time, body slamming into hers.
The weight of him, the feel of him, everything felt so right. Lisa raised her chin, didn’t resist when he roughly claimed her mouth, all of the softness of earlier long gone. But it was just what she wanted, needed, and she hungrily matched his movements, rocked her pelvis up into his, legs wrapped tight around him to lock him in place.
“Don’t stop,” she demanded when he pushed hard against her.
“Wasn’t going to,” he muttered straight back.
Lisa sighed into his mouth when he kissed her again, hungry for him, wanting him closer. She arched her back as he reached for a bra strap, moaning as his mouth closed over her breast, using her heels to try to get his boxers off when she couldn’t reach low enough.
“Slow down, tiger,” he said with a chuckle, smiling down at her as he half-rose to oblige her.
Lisa took her chance, stripped her panties off and parted her thighs to let him fall back into place above her.
“Damn,” Matt muttered, his voice husky as hell and making her laugh.
“Screw ‘slow.’ I want you now,” she demanded.
“What my wife wants, she gets.”
Lisa fell back and held her arms above her head, arching her back when Matt settled his weight over her and took hold of her wrists to pin them in place. After months of not feeling like sex, of not wanting Matt or feeling the attraction toward him she was used to, he’d managed to make her pulse race and her body hum just like old times.