"She's quite a woman," Sam said, as he stood beside Brad, while watching Justine playing tag with the kids.
Brad looked at Sam Hansen with a start. He knew the man and his wife were having marital problems, and he'd heard the word divorce bantered about between Grace and Justine, but for the first time, he wondered if the man was interested in Justine. The idea bothered him. "How much do you know about her?" he asked, to see what his response would be.
Sam shrugged. "She's visited here a few times, but Susan doesn't like her, so we don't see much of her during her visits. Grace talks about her a lot though. She's proud of her in some ways, but disappointed in others. The woman's too beautiful for her own good. She's also brilliant. She was valedictorian of her college graduating class, and she's well-known in the corporate world and has been written up in several publications as a woman on the rise. But every time she visits here it's between men."
"Is that why Susan doesn't like her," Brad asked, "because she—" he stopped short of saying sleeps around and said, instead, "doesn't marry the men she sleeps with?"
"Not so much," Sam replied, "mainly because when Justine's here she takes the spotlight off any woman around because she's such a stunning-looking woman."
"Yeah, I notice you're having trouble looking the other way," Brad said, realizing he was sounding like a jealous husband, even though he had no claim on Justine. But he didn't want any other man to claim her either. It was a territorial thing, the male lifting his leg and peeing on everything he wanted to claim, and at the moment he was pissing a circle around Justine to prove Justine Page was Brad Meecham's woman. At least for now.
Sam patted him on the back. "Don't worry," he said, "she's not my type. But she's not a woman most men can ignore either, except Jack. My brother's a one-woman man."
"And you're not?" Brad asked, wanting to get the man to state his position. Justine might not be his type, but he still might want to take her to bed. Maybe he already had, and that's what was behind the marital rift.
"I'm not interested in Justine Page, if that's what you want to know," Sam said, continuing to watch Justine, just as Brad was. Two males vying for supremacy.
"Not even in bed?" Brad asked, watching as Justine molded a snowball in her mittened hands and hurled it at Ricky, who caught it in the middle of the back as he ducked. Sophie laughed in childish glee, and Justine looked at the children and smiled.
"I'm not a monk," Sam admitted. "I might fantasize about her—she'd be a lively one in bed—but I'd never act on it. Besides, she's your woman if you want her."
"I don't," Brad said.
Sam turned and looked at him. "Man, you want her in the worse possible way. It's written all over your face, and she wants you too. What's the problem?"
"You're looking at it right now," Brad replied, surprised to be talking openly about Justine to Sam Hansen. He barely knew the man. But the time seemed right to say some of the things that had been bothering him, things he hadn't been able to talk about to Justine. "Would she be the kind of woman you'd want helping you raise your son?" he asked.
"Your point well taken," Sam replied. "From the way Grace talks about her, she's never stayed with a man for any length of time, and marriage for her is out. Sometimes I find it hard to believe she and Grace are sisters. Grace is the salt of the earth. Every man's dream of a perfect wife, and Jack knows it. But Justine... life would never be dull being married to her, but it wouldn't be easy sailing either. You'd never know if your time with her was about to run out."
"That's crossed my mind," Brad said.
"So has marriage," Sam stated, "and Justine isn't the kind of woman men think about with marriage in mind. Going to bed with, top of most men's list, but I've never figured out why. She's thin like a model so there's not much to grab onto."
"There's enough," Brad said, "and what she has is damn near perfect."
Sam smiled. "I haven't had the hands on, but yeah, from a distance I have to agree."
"Just don't think about the hands on either," Brad warned.
Sam laughed. "She's totally your woman," he assured Brad. "The last thing I need right now is another woman in my life, but if I were in your position I'd be asking myself, would it be better to be married to a woman like Justine for a short time, or not to have her at all? It's your call. She's definitely available to you."
Brad continued watching Justine, as he said, "I never said anything to anyone, including Justine, about wanting to marry her. How did you know? Is there something inherent in Hansen men that they can read minds?"
"No," Sam said. "Just a lucky guess. Jack thinks the two of you are right for each other. Justine's like a wayward little sister to him. He wants to see her get her personal life on track, and you're the first man he's ever singled out for her. Jack's always had the ability to read people. He can size a person up in minutes. He sized you up the first time he saw you with Justine. He told me he knew you wouldn't touch her at the spring. He said he didn't know how he knew, only that he did. He was right, wasn't he?" Sam looked at Brad for confirmation.
"Yeah, he was right." Brad let out a short, ironic laugh. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to have a woman like Justine living with you, and not sleeping with her when you know you could? She drives me crazy."
"Yeah, that happens when you're in love with someone."
Brad didn't say anything because he couldn't deny it, but he didn't want to admit it either. He just wanted the feeling to go away. "Are you still in love with your wife?" he asked, knowing it was none of his business, but sensing that Sam wanted to talk.
"I'm going through hell with Susan right now," Sam admitted, "and yeah, I still love her. She's the mother of my son, and we've gone through a lot together with him and his illness, but I've suspected for some time that she's involved with the instructor she hired several months ago to work at the fitness center we own. On the nights she works late, whenever I've dropped in he's there, and they're always alone. It's a double blow knowing I put up the money for the center, remodeling a building the way Susan wanted it, even including a private room with a couple of workout machines and a bed for resting. I went along with it, taking out a loan and giving her everything she wanted, including the bed I suspect is being used for anything but resting."
"Have you confronted her about it?"
"Yeah, Christmas morning," Sam said. "The night before, I tried to get something started and she turned her back to me and said she was exhausted from her workout. She also smelled of sex, so the next morning, when I tried to get something going again and she brushed me off, I accused her of getting it on with her instructor, and she laid into me, and I had hell to pay the rest of the day. I've gotten the silent treatment ever since, and Ricky feels the brunt of it."
"Have you talked to Jack about it?" Brad asked.
"No," Sam replied. "He went through hell when his first wife smothered his son. Lauren had a hair-trigger temper, but she claimed postpartum depression in court. The jury didn't buy it, and neither did Jack, and she went to jail. But she's still friends with Susan, which is another problem Susan and I have. I don't want the woman around, and neither does anyone else around here. Jack's finally happy, and I don't want to dump my troubles on him."
"Man, that's tough," Brad said, watching Justine laying on her back with the kids while making snow angels—arms fanning, legs splaying in and out. Why that made him horny was pretty damn difficult to explain. Except, maybe it was the angle, with her feet toward him. Legs spreading wide then coming together. Open, she was ready for him. Closed, she wanted to be more like Grace. Whatever it was, he wasn't sure he could keep his hands off her the next time they'd be alone. He was finding his resolve fading...
"Susan works out and she's as trim as the day we married," Sam continued, "and there's no question the guy has his eyes on her. Whenever I find them alone they claim they're doing maintenance on the machines, or working out exercise routines, but the signs are all there. Two nights ago I walked in unanno
unced and they came out of the room with the bed in it. When Susan got home later her hair was damp and I knew she'd showered there. I made the mistake of asking if she'd showered alone and she called me every fowl name in the book. I knew then she'd just come back from having sex with the guy."
"Why are you staying with her if you know she's sleeping with him?" Brad asked.
"Because I won't believe it until I find proof, and I'm not looking for proof because I don't want to find it," Sam replied. "The ostrich with his head in the sand. I'll do nothing until I walk in one night and find them going at it, then I won't be able to deny it any longer."
"Well, I know all about cheating wives," Brad said, "and about walking in and finding a man in your bed pumping your wife. It's a pretty damn sobering experience. I yanked the guy off my ex and beat the hell out him, not totally disabling him, but permanently flattening one of his balls. You might not want to wait until that happens. I'd hire a PI to do the dirty work if I were you. You're a big man. You could end up killing the guy, never mind that he's a fitness instructor. When the adrenaline rushes in you have strength you never knew you had, and if you find a man screwing your wife, you hit him where it matters and worry about it later. I remember the power behind my punches, and where I aimed. The man sued me for losing a testicle, but the jury decided the man was trespassing on my property and deserved what he got."
Sam looked at him, and said, "I'll keep that in mind, but I'm not ready to deal with it yet. Ricky's beginning to act out, hearing his parents constantly sniping at each other. It'll hit him hard because Susan's been a good mother, and I wouldn't want Ricky to know his mother was cheating on me. It could affect him with future relationships. So I'll just hold to the old idiom, let sleeping dogs lie. But maybe I'll look into hiring a PI."
"A cheating wife when there are no kids is one thing," Brad said. "But it gets more complicated when kids are involved. Until now, I hadn't given it much thought."
"Is that why you don't want to marry Justine?" Sam asked, "because you're afraid she'll cheat on you? Or is it because of your daughter?"
"Both," Brad said. "Right now, it's mainly because of Sophie, but Justine has a bad track record with men. She's looking for something she hasn't found. She thinks it's making it to the top, a full partnership with some big corporation. If she ever got married she'd always feel restless for what she had to give up. In my case, everything, because I want a full-time mother for Sophie. I won't turn the kid over to a nanny to raise, and I don't want Sophie getting attached to a step-mother who ultimately leaves her, and me."
"Well, for whatever it's worth," Sam said, "Jack's convinced Justine would never cheat on you because he believes you're the first man she's ever loved. She told Jack and Grace she'd walk away from you if that's what was best for you and your daughter. She's prepared to do that now."
"It might not be that easy," Brad said, watching Sophie lift her arms for Justine to pick her up, which Justine did, then proceeded to swing Sophie around before falling with her into a heap in the snow. Justine laughed, and her face was flushed and her eyes bright, and Sophie was looking at her like God sent a replacement for her mother.
Sam followed the direction of Brad's gaze, and said, "The longer you let it go on, the harder it'll be on your daughter when you leave here without Justine."
"Sophie won't be the only one," Brad said, images racing through his mind like a high-speed video—Justine at the hot springs reminding him of a pixie-like creature, the look on her face each time she hit him with a clever comeback, modeling her new outfit and showing him her sports bra, her tumbling with the kids. The thought that he wanted her beyond all reasoning, wanted her in his bed at night, and at breakfast in the morning, and all the times in between. Wanted her to be a mother for Sophie and a wife for him. Nothing logical or reasonable. All wishful, distorted thinking.
Sam patted him on the shoulder. "Life can deal us some pretty low blows at times," he said.
"Yeah," Brad replied. "Damn low." He was feeling the full effect of it now, just watching Justine. Her effervescent smile, the brightness of her eyes with their slight sheen of tears from the cold, the fact that she stopped and looked at him and held his gaze for a few seconds and he felt the unspoken words between them, words that told him she wanted him. Then she turned away from him and went to get her snowshoes.
"I'll go get the sleds," Sam said, traipsing over on snowshoes to where the kids left the sleds to build a small snow fort, and Brad plodded over on his snowshoes to where Justine was. He felt a need to touch her, if only to take her hand to pull her up after she put her on snow shoes, or to grab her arm to steady her when she started to walk on them again.
She saw him coming and smiled at him. Man, that smile.
"That was a workout," she said, as he approached. "Will you brush the snow off the back of me?" She turned around and waited.
Be careful what you wish for...
He'd wanted to touch her, and now he'd get to brush off her butt. Placing one hand on her shoulder, he brushed the snow off the back of her sweater, then moved to her butt, focusing longer than needed, then ran his hand down the back of each leg and up to brush her butt again, letting his hand linger a moment as he said, "Is that okay?" in a voice that came out as suggestive, even though he hadn't intended it to be.
"You know it isn't," Justine replied. "Do I have to pull up my shirt to get what I want?"
"Don't even go there," he said. "Things are getting complicated."
"You're making things complicated," Justine replied. "You'll be going back to San Francisco, and I'll be returning to Seattle, and when we part, I at least want to know what I've been missing. If you don't show me I'll always wonder, and I'll probably keep searching."
The look on her face was hopeful, and candid. He wasn't just another man in her life, but he didn't want the complication of having sex with her. One-night stands never appealed to him, and the bottom line was, he and Justine would be parting company in the very near future. "Why are you making this so hard?" he asked.
"I didn't know I was—" she glanced down "—but yes, I see I have." She looked at him and smiled, and waited for his response. The woman with all the bravado he couldn't stop himself from wanting. And he didn't want a Grace Hansen. He didn't even want Justine to start being respectable, at least not with him. "Like I said, you drive me crazy."
"And you're making me frustrated," she said, "but okay, since I told you I wanted to be more like Grace, and I actually meant it, I won't bring it up again. Are you satisfied?"
"I'll never be satisfied," Brad said. "It's not possible now."
"You're right," Justine replied. "Things are complicated. At least they are with us, but Sophie's happy for the moment, although she still expects God to bring her mother back."
"Yeah, and she won't have anything to do with me until He does."
"She will when she has no one but you," Justine said, "and since I'm going back to Seattle next week, you'll have to make the most of it between now and then."
"Next week?" Brad said, feeling like he'd just taken a punch to the gut.
"I can't stay here forever," Justine replied. "I have to find a place to live and start looking for work. I have to replenish the retirement kitty."
Brad listened to what Justine was saying, but it was rolling by like a bad dream—something to get through until he woke up and learned she wasn't going back to Seattle at all because she'd decided to find work in San Francisco, and they could have a long-term relationship while he raised Sophie on his own. She'd be Aunt Justine, the lady Daddy spent time with, and sometimes stayed with when Sophie was at the ranch visiting Aunt Grace and Uncle Jack.
Pipedreams! He wanted a wife and a mother for Sophie. They'd move into a neighborhood where parents monitored their kids, and do the Catholic all-girls school thing, and go to church on Sunday, and have a cat. The whole ball of wax. And there was no way in hell Justine could fill the roles he needed. "I guess we'd better start preparing
Sophie for your leaving," he said.
Justine just nodded, and traipsed over to where Sam stood with the sleds.
***
Justine raked the curry comb over the shaggy winter coat of the big horse named Dan. She'd asked Jack if she could brush a horse, and he took Dan out of the stall and hooked him between two posts, and gave her a curry comb and a brush and left her with instructions to put Dan back in his stall when she was done. She couldn't explain why she wanted to brush the horse, and both Jack and Grace seemed surprised and amused when she'd shown up on their porch with the request, but as she ran the curry comb over Dan's heavy winter coat, she had time to think.
It was an odd day. Rain had come overnight, and by morning the snow was gone from the roads and trails, with some patches remaining where it had been deep, but the sun was out, and the temperature had risen sharply, and steam rose from the ground and the roof tops, and within the closed barn, she didn't even need her jacket, and had stripped down to her white turtleneck jersey and sweat pants.
"Okay, Dan," she said, picking up her conversation with the horse of two weeks before, though she couldn't remember where they'd left off. So much had happened in between, it was hard to fill the horse in, but she wanted to try. She wanted to verbalize what was happening in her life, things she couldn't tell Grace because Grace would tell her what she already knew was true, and what she didn't want to hear.
"I think I'm in love," she started in, while currying the small of Dan's back. "I actually want to go to bed with a man. That's never happened before. I went to bed with men, but I never liked it, but I want to go to bed with Brad because I just want to be with him that way because, well, the only reason I come up with is because I love him. But Brad doesn't want to go to bed with me. Well he does, and he doesn’t. It's complicated, but that's only part of it. Of all the men I've been in relationships with, I've never felt with them what I do with Brad. When I'm with him, even when he's not touching me, I feel this kind of energy building low in my belly, well, even lower, and when Brad doesn't do it, I feel empty, like something crucial is missing. Even now, just thinking about it, I get the feeling that if he walked in right now I'd lose all control."
Living With Lies Trilogy (Books 1, 2, and 3 of The Dancing Moon Ranch Series) Page 33