by Norah Wilson
She felt her cell phone vibrating in her sleeve pocket.
And there it was again.
Titus. Or Scott. An earlier text from Titus had revealed they knew she was with Jace, and they were just as pissed as she’d known they’d be. Well too bad.
Except she couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to Titus’s anger than the usual big brother bullshit. Though why she should think that, she didn’t really know. His message had been terse, not giving her many words to read between. Yet she knew there was something more behind those words than could be accounted for. It had to have something to do with whatever he’d called them home for. She kept coming back around to their father. Could something be wrong with him?
“This is it—Two Goldenrod Lane.”
Ember felt a little flip in her stomach as she braked. Of all the things she’d thought she’d feel if she ever ran into this woman, nervousness wasn’t one of them.
She pulled into the narrow gravel driveway and killed the engine. The screen door creaked open immediately, and a trim, friendly looking woman held it ajar. Smiling nervously, she waved at them.
Jace raised a finger in a just give us a second way, and Bridget Northrup, looking a little bit more apprehensive, disappeared back inside.
He turned to Ember. “I don’t have any idea what she’s going to say in there. But whatever she says—”
“It won’t change what we did last night, and again today. We made love.” Her words came out on a rush. She drew a deep breath, and continued, more slowly. “Let’s keep that, Jace. Let’s own it. Let’s just...see.”
He leaned across the console and kissed her, tenderly and oh-so-sweetly.
When they broke apart, she put a hand on his chest. “We don’t have to do this,” she said, surprising herself with her urgency. “The past is gone. We can back right out of this driveway, head back to Harkness and face the music.”
“The music being the combined wrath of your brothers for leading their kid sister astray.”
“Leading me astray?” She marked him with a get serious look. “First of all, I seduced you.”
“And second of all?”
“Don’t call me kid.”
She kissed him, hard, and let her left hand smooth over his chest. But he grabbed her hand and pinned it in place over his heart.
“As tempting as that offer is, sweetheart, we have to go in there. We’ve come this far, and I need to know what happened that night.”
“Okay.” She drew a deep breath, nodded. “I get it. I really do. I want to know too. But I just wanted you to know that whatever she says in there, it doesn’t matter now. The past is the past.”
“Let’s go talk to Bridget, and then...” He rubbed his temple. “Well, let’s just get through this.”
Ember nodded, but her mind was racing to finish the sentence he’d left dangling. And then...what? She was practically in Long Beach, California already.
They both climbed out of the car and started toward the small house. Before they were half way up the walk, the door opened again.
“Please come in,” Bridget said. She held the door for them as they stepped into the cozy home.
Up close, Bridget looked more and more familiar as the seconds ticked by. Seconds counted out by the spider clock above the small stove. The arachnid motif was repeated on the teatowel hung to dry on the oven door handle.
Still Bridget with the spider.
“Hope you didn’t have any trouble finding the place,” she said.
“Not at all,” Jace said.
She glanced at Ember. “Nice car.”
“It’s a rental.”
The two woman exchanged an awkward look as they traded forced pleasantries. And if Ember wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of apologetic discomfort in Bridget’s eyes.
Bridget led them into a tidy but tiny livingroom. A love seat faced the world’s smallest picture window. With an unspoken agreement, Jace and Ember sat there. Bridget settled into a glide rocker, but sat perfectly still.
“How’s your friend’s sister?” Ember asked.
“She’s going to be okay, but get this—her mother said if that doctor hadn’t come along and taken charge at the accident scene while they waited for the ambulance, she might not have made it. Internal bleeding, I guess. Was that lucky or what?”
Ember met Jace’s gaze, saw the pride there. “Very lucky,” she murmured.
“That’s her—Kayla—with her sister, my bestie.” She pointed to a picture on the tiny mantle. “It was taken last year, at the Hunters’ cottage.”
“Beautiful girl,” Ember said. Her gaze fell on another picture. Bridget with her arms around an equally happy looking middle-aged man. They were on a tropical beach, the sun setting behind them, umbrella drinks in hand, posed in a lovers’ embrace.
“That must be your fiance,” Ember said. “Jace told me you were engaged. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. He’s a great guy. It’ll be a second marriage for both of us.” Bridget put a hand to her chest, clutching the chunky necklace she wore, and looked from Ember to Jace. “But I’m guessing you two didn’t drive up here to talk about my wedding plans.”
“Right,” Jace said. Ember felt the brush of his knee on her own as he sat forward on the sofa. “We didn’t. As I said on the phone—”
“You want to know what happened that night you joined Terry and the rest of us.”
He grimaced. “Not sure I want to, but I need to hear it.”
Ember reached for his hand. Jace squeezed back.
“Fair enough.” She took a deep breath. “Terry called me that afternoon. He said he’d twisted your arm into going out for your first legal drink.” Her words came out fast and precise. Practiced.
“Correct,” Jace said. “It was my nineteenth birthday.”
Ember knew it wasn’t just his first legal drink, it was very nearly his first drink, period. Coach O’Bryan didn’t approve of his athletes drinking. More importantly, Margaret and Arden Standish didn’t approve of anyone who was dating their teenage daughter drinking either.
“Well, you didn’t exactly take to alcohol,” Bridget said. “It took you forever to down your first beer. So, Terry bought you a shot to go with that second. You drank it. Against your better judgment, I think, but he goaded you into it. We all did. It hit you like a ton of bricks. You could hardly stand on your own two feet.”
“So, we’ve established that he was inebriated,” Ember said. Jace could feel her tension. Her anger. “Not just over the legal limit for driving, but really, really intoxicated.”
“He was completely wasted,” Bridget confirmed, looking Ember square in the eye. “But I didn’t get him there.”
“Leaving that aside for the moment, would you say he was in no shape to make critical decisions? To be responsible for his actions?”
Bridget’s face stiffened. “That’s basically the definition of wasted, isn’t it?”
Before Ember could lash out, Jace jumped in. “What happened next?” he asked.
“Right.” Bridget clasped her hands tightly in her lap. “So after a couple near misses on the dance floor, Terry poured you into the car. We drove home. I sat in the back with you, you rested your head on my shoulder. You were so—”
“Wasted. Yeah, I got that.”
“That too. But I was going to say you were so sweet. Okay, not exactly Mr. Charming, but you couldn’t stop talking about your girlfriend. Wanted to call her then and there. You couldn’t find your cell phone so you kept pestering me for mine. But I was thinking your girlfriend’s dad might not appreciate the late night call. Not even, as you put it, to tell her she was the love of your life.”
Ember’s heart pounded painfully in her chest.
Beside her Jace sat without moving. “I don’t remember any of this.”
“It happened. I have no reason to lie.”
“Of course not. I’m not suggesting you would.” He dug his fingers into the edge of the sofa. “Go on. P
lease.”
“So we went back to your house. There were five of us. You and me, my friend, Kendri, and some guy she was seeing—I don’t remember his name, but it’s not important. And then there was Terry.”
“What about Terry?” Jace demanded.
“He...uh...thought you should have a souvenir of the night.” Bridget flicked a nervous look at Ember, then returned her attention to Jace. “It was supposed to be a lark. Terry said you’d get a kick out of it.”
The knot of anger in the pit of Ember’s stomach flared, burning blindingly hot. What the hell had they done to him? His own brother had fed him alcohol until he damned near passed out. Hell, he’d probably spiked that shot with GHB or something. She felt sick for Jace.
She couldn’t help herself—she glared at Bridget.
“Get a kick out of what?” Jace asked.
Bridget shrugged. “Going to a college bar, getting a hickey from a college girl. He said you’d be thrilled. You know, the stories you’d have the next day at high school, that sort of thing. Bullshit guy stuff.”
Ember’s eyes narrowed. “You wanted guys to spread stories about you?”
“Stupid, I know.” Bridget looked away. “But I was...”
“Young,” Jace said. “You were young, intoxicated, and you did something at Terry’s behest that I’m guessing you otherwise wouldn’t have done. Is that about right?”
Ember looked at Jace. He had every right to be angry, but there was nothing in his expression but compassion.
“Exactly.” Bridget looked like the weight of the world had been lifted from her slim shoulders. “I was young, drunk and completely crazy about your brother.”
“Were the two of you dating seriously?” Jace asked.
“Yes. Or at least I thought so. We were going steady, as they used to say.”
“I don’t suppose it lasted long?”
“He broke up with me not a week after.” She grimaced. “I guess I should have known what I was getting into. I mean, I’d seen him burn through a lot of girls, but you know how it is when you’re that age. You think you’ll be the one to tame the bad boy.” She laughed, but it was a nervous, hollow sound.
“Anyway, like I was saying, after the bar closed, Terry drove us all back to your place—the Picard house. Your father was away, of course. Terry dumped you on the bed, but the rest of us kept drinking.” She looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. “I remember I had to help my dad at the market in Harkness the next day. He had a little specialty sweets shop. I told that to Terry, whose answer was to hand out little white pills.”
“What kind of pills?” Ember asked sharply.
“I don’t know,” Bridget said. “They made me feel pretty euphoric, but who knows? They could have been Tic Tacs, for all I knew. But Terry said they’d make me feel great and they did.”
“What next?” Jace said.
“We got hungry, so he ordered pizza. When we ran out of our own booze, he kept us going with the old man’s scotch. I hate scotch, but drank it and smiled because Terry gave it to me. He was the leader of our little gang. So when he got the idea for the souvenir…it sounded like a harmless prank at the time. And like I said, I was crazy over Terry. I’m ashamed to say I’d have done pretty much whatever he asked. Then. as I said, less than a week later, he dumped me. Said I wasn’t his type after all. I felt like such a fool.” If the blush rising in her cheeks was any indication, she still did. She touched a hand to her forehead quickly, as if she’d subconsciously been about to hide her face then caught herself. “Oh, God, I’m so, so sorry, you guys.”
Ember felt her anger abating in the face of Bridget’s story. “We all do stupid things when we’re young,” she said.
“Really?” Bridget’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “I have a hard time believing you ever did anything that stupid.”
Ember felt a chill go through her. More and more, with every passing moment, she was beginning to think she’d done something much, much stupider than anything Bridget had done. She’d let Jace go. No, she’d run like hell from him without giving him a chance to explain. “Oh, I did,” she said. “Believe me.”
“But the souvenir wasn’t just a hickey, was it?” Jace’s words broke across Ember’s. “There were those pictures...”
“I know.” Bridget actively blinked back tears now. “Jace, I cannot tell you how sorry I am. Nothing happened. I mean, not sex. I kissed you and posed with you, but that’s all.” She rubbed her hands together. “If this were reversed…if I’d passed out and you’d—”
“Kissed you? Taken pictures in sexually suggestive poses?” Ember said. “I’m pretty sure you’d have gone to the cops.”
“You’re right.” Bridget’s tears broke. “I’m so sorry. The worst of it is I know I broke you two up—”
“No,” Jace said, his voice so hoarse Ember barely recognized it. “Terry broke us up, and I’ll never forgive him for it.”
“Nor will I,” Bridget said. “For using me, and using me to hurt you.”
Ember knew she should say something comforting to the other woman. Forgiving, Or at the very least, understanding. She’d seen many of her friends over the years—male and female—who’d been that hopelessly smitten over the wrong person.
Did it absolve Bridget? No.
Was her apology sincere? Absolutely.
“It was Terry who took the pictures, wasn’t it?” Jace said. “Terry who decided I needed a souvenir. Terry who used your affection for him to manipulate you into those suggestive poses.”
She cringed. “Yes, but I—”
“But nothing. Listen to me, Bridget. It took a lot of guts, speaking with Ember and me,” Jace stood. “Terry’s the one to blame.”
Ember got to her feet, as did Bridget.
“I’m really sorry,” Bridget said, wiping her blotchy face.
“I know.”
* * *
“That was hard on her,” Jace said.
“It was. And it was good of you to forgive her.”
There was silence in the vehicle for a few moments before he spoke again. “Terry has some things to answer for.”
As she drove on, Ember’s throat ached. Oh damn, she would not cry! Jace hadn’t betrayed her. At all.
She’d betrayed him by not believing in him. By running. By not giving him the chance to explain the void in his memory.
But it wasn’t just Jace she’d betrayed. She’d betrayed them; their life plans.
And she’d tell him this. Own up to it. But it was not a conversation to be had with one of them behind the wheel.
She flicked another quick glance his way. He was looking out the window, staring into the dense trees along the road.
“Can you help keep watch for wildlife?” she asked. “Two sets of eyes are better than one.”
“Of course.” He sat up straighter, scanning side to side.
Several hours—and four deer, two raccoons, one coyote, and one porcupine—later, they hit the outskirts of Shamrock Falls. Minutes after that, she pulled into the motel parking lot and killed the engine. In the ensuing silence, neither of them made a move to get out.
“Jace, there’s something I have to confess about that night I ran away. Something I have to tell you.”
The seconds ticked by until she began to wonder if he was going to respond.
“All right,” he said at last. “Let’s talk inside.”
Chapter 24
JACE STEPPED aside to let Ember enter first. He closed the door behind them.
She had a confession about that night.
He’d waited so long for her to admit that she had slept with his stepbrother. For so long, he’d tortured himself with images of the two of them.
And how many times over the years had he fantasized about her making this confession? Of course, in those fantasies, he’d pictured her broken apology, his righteous indignation. Always he would tell her how grievously her actions had hurt him. How they’d gutted him. And with those words,
he would hurt her back.
But as he looked at her, the absolute last thing he wanted to do was to cause her pain. To hurt her. Ever again.
She crossed the room and dumped her backpack on the bed beside his briefcase. Then she peeled off her jacket and tossed it on the bed too. When she finally turned to face him, there were tears in her eyes. He wanted nothing more than to wipe them away, now and always.
He didn’t give a damn if she’d had sex with Terry that night. It didn’t matter.
Yes, he’d let those damned crazy-making mind pictures intrude these last few days, despite his determination to forgive and forget. They’d kept showing up, stealing some of his happiness even as he and Ember reconnected. But no more. All he’d needed was for her to confess. In stepping up to the plate and owning her actions, the images would be exorcised.
None of that crap mattered anymore.
What mattered—all that mattered—was that they were here together.
“It’s all my fault,” she blurted out, her eyes sheening with tears. “My fault that we broke up.”
She was standing by the bed where she’d dropped her stuff, looking forlorn. He wanted desperately to comfort her, but he had to dump his walking stick and backpack first. He crossed to the bed and deposited his burdens with the other stuff. Hands free at last, he turned to her and grasped her shoulders.
“Don’t do this to yourself,” he said, massaging her upper arms. “The past is past. Let’s leave it there.”
Tears broke and slid down her cheeks. “But—”
He lifted both hands to cup her precious face. Tear-streaked and blotchy as it was, it was beautiful to him. Perfect. “These past days, we managed to love each other like there was no yesterday. Only today.” He bent to press his lips to hers gently, tasting the salt of her tears. When he lifted his head, more tears brimmed and spilled. He wiped them away with his thumbs.
“Don’t cry, Angel. We’ll put all of this in the past where it belongs, so we can finallly reclaim the future.”
“But it’s my fault,” she said again, her voice high and strained. “All those lost years. Years we could have had together.”