Rough Water (Songbird #7)

by Melissa Pearl

  So, no laptops, no cellphones—nothing was going to interrupt us. We needed a decent night together.

  Walking across the chaotic living room, I stepped over a pile of law books, nearly impaled myself with a sewing needle, and managed to just avoid knocking over a half-drunken cup of coffee. I lifted up the cold mug and wondered how many days it’d been sitting there. The house looked like a garbage dump. I hated it, but I just hadn’t found the time (or motivation) to actually do anything about it. I’d never really wanted to move into this place. It was so square and sterile with no quirks or special characteristics—just a new, shiny house with no soul.

  But when my parents had offered it to us, I didn’t want to be the one to argue. It was a great opportunity, and we couldn’t pass it up just to satisfy my creative eccentricities. So, I’d hugged my father with an excited giggle and shown him how much the gesture meant to me.

  I pulled Justin’s hoodie off the end of the couch and draped it over my arm. Stopping at the stereo, I pressed play and smiled when Mika’s voice filtered into the air. Jane had introduced me to the artist in my freshman year at college. Actually, that’s how we met. She was listening to his music and I really liked it, so I asked who was playing. We got chatting and before long, we were sorority sisters, and the friendship blossomed into the BFF kind.

  I swayed my hips to the beat of “Good Guys” while I threw Justin’s hoodie up the stairs and proceeded into the kitchen to start unpacking groceries. Nudging empty takeout boxes closer to the trash can, I hummed along to the music while I tidied and put away. The song always made me nostalgic…sad. I didn’t know why I liked it so much. I should have hated it because it made me think of Blake. But that’s why I loved it. He was a good guy, right down to his core.

  I missed him.

  I missed his influence and the impact he had on Justin’s life.

  Nothing had been the same since Jane’s nightmare wedding day.

  As usual, tears tried to blind me. I sniffed them back and thought about work—the one area in my life that was going beautifully.

  Heading to work each day and hanging out with Jules was the closest thing to fun I could find. I thrived on it, pouring all my emotion into sketches, patterns, fabrics, tucks, folds, pins, needles, threads—anything to do with creating beautiful clothes for beautiful bodies.

  And all my hard work had paid off. An excited smile stretched my mouth wide. I couldn’t wait to tell Justin. I wondered what he’d say.

  Probably not much.

  My smile faltered and I swallowed.

  Reaching for the chopping board, I placed it next to the sink then washed my hands and got ready to make Justin’s favorite Indian curry. The lady who used to look after him when he was little gave me the recipe as a wedding gift.

  “You’ll keep your boy happy with this one. Chicken tikka masala is his favorite.” Her thick Indian accent had made me smile. I’d lovingly tucked the recipe away…and hadn’t pulled it out once since we returned from England.

  My insides twittered and jumped as I chopped and sautéed. The kitchen soon smelled rich with spices, Mika’s voice accompanying the swirl of creativity in the air. By the time Justin walked through the door, I was dancing away to “Emily.”

  I hadn’t even heard him walk in. My hips were jiggling as I stirred the bright orange mixture. Stopping to check the rice, I tapped the wooden spoon on the side of the pot then spun around, using it as a microphone to sing a little French with Mika.

  Justin was leaning against the counter watching me with his arms crossed over his chest. His smile showed off a little of the guy I met in college. I could have basked in that affectionate glow all day.

  I jerked when I saw him then giggled. “Hey.”

  “Hi, Sparks.” His voice always had such a calming effect on me. It was quiet and smooth, carrying on the air with a gentle lilt that reminded me of dandelion florets floating on the breeze.

  We grinned at each other, and I swear I saw a glint of hot desire flash through his gaze. His eyes whisked down my body, but then he jerked tall and turned away from me.

  He hadn’t touched me since that last time. That’s right, I remembered the last time we’d had sex. How could I forget? It’d been the early hours of the morning. The sleepy, half-awake kind of sex where you feel like you’re floating on some euphoric cloud, caught between fantasy and reality. I’d woken in the night, desire pulsing through me after a dream that would have made Hugh Hefner blush. I didn’t know what had brought it on, but I needed release. I kissed Justin awake and we had hot, passionate sex. He pounded into me—hard, fast, and deeper than he ever had before, a shocking mix of pleasure with a touch of pain. The orgasm that rocked me was like nothing I’d had before. My sharp cries surprised us both.

  Justin pulled out of me, spilling his seed on the sheets and shuddering like he’d just been punched in the belly.

  I sat up to talk to him, but he lurched off the bed, puffing and running his hands through his hair.

  “Justin?” I’d whispered as he fled to the door. He turned and gave me a wrecked kind of half-smile that radiated torment rather than joy. And then he went downstairs. As soon as I heard the toilet flush, I crept down to check on him. He was sitting at his desk with the lamp on, his nose buried in a thick textbook.

  I’d cried myself to sleep that night, and hadn’t had it in me to try again.

  But that was going to change.

  I turned back to the curry and kept stirring. If I waited for him to initiate sex, I’d be waiting a long time. I didn’t know how to reach him…and it scared me.

  Justin sauntered back into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. I studied his profile as he gulped it down, turning away when he swiveled to look at me.

  “How was work?” I kept my eyes on the bubbling curry, breathing in the rich scent like it would somehow give me courage.

  “Good.”

  “Anything interesting from your day?”

  He placed the glass down and sighed before spinning to face me. “Just the usual—contracts, law stuff, studying, and then more law stuff.” He snickered, running a hand through his curls. His enthusiasm over taking the job in the first place had certainly waned.

  Who was I kidding? Everything had waned since Blake’s death.

  “Jane stopped by to grab some Chaos posters for her kids.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Guilt singed me. I hadn’t called in over a week. “How’s she doing?”

  Justin shrugged. “You know.”

  The topic sucked all conversation from the room. I licked my lips and kept stirring.

  Sometimes I wanted to grab Justin’s shoulders and shake him…hard. I wanted to yell in his face that there was life after Blake. That he couldn’t wear Jane’s heartache like a trench coat.

  But I wouldn’t do that.

  Yelling at Justin would only drive him away. I was barely holding on as it was; I didn’t want to do anything that might fracture our threadbare relationship.

  I put on a smile and went for upbeat. “I’m making your favorite tonight.”

  “I thought something smelled good.” His eyebrows rose, and I caught a glimpse of his old smile again.

  My insides trilled, and I shifted aside so he could take a look in the pot.

  “Chicken tikka masala.” He sniffed the air. “What’s the occasion?”

  I shrugged, giving him a playful smile. “I have good news.”

  “Really?” His eyebrows dipped.

  “Uh-huh.” I forced a bright smile before he could step away from me. Justin didn’t like news anymore. He didn’t trust it. Even though I’d said the word good, he still shied away from anything that might disrupt the protective little world he’d created around himself. “My designs got selected for the Echelon Show in Vegas!” I squealed.

  “No way.” Justin laughed and wrapped his arms around me. My feet left the floor, and I buried my face in the crook of his neck. Damn, it felt good. “I’m so proud of you.” He swung
me around once before placing me down and grinning at me. “You deserve it.”

  “Thank you.”

  He brushed his thumb over my lips before gently pinching my chin. “Is it your…wedding stuff?”

  “No.” The timer beeped, and I was forced to step away from him and check the rice. Turning off the gas, I moved the pot to the counter before lifting the lid and giving it a stir. “It’s the fall line, so…”

  “Okay.” He nodded and gave me a closed-mouth smile.

  The last wedding dress I’d designed was for some well-to-do friend of Enrique DeMarco’s. It had actually been an old design that Jules had found in my folder. He’d loved it and shown it to Enrique without my say-so.

  My ultimate dream was to start up my own wedding business. I’d provide the client with everything, like a wedding designer/planner person.

  The original idea had been to work at Echelon Fashion for five years, saving my guts out, and then I’d start up my own company.

  The only problem was I hadn’t been able to draw another dress since Blake died. I just couldn’t bring myself to go there. Weddings didn’t make me think of joy and magic anymore. All they did was remind me of a motorcycle accident and one of the best guys I knew bleeding out on an English country road.

  “Can you grab two plates?” I pointed at the cupboard.

  Justin did as I asked and placed them on the counter beside me. I dished up the meal, adding a splash of bright green beans to the side of each plate. Carrying the dishes out, I set them down while Justin grabbed the cutlery and two wineglasses.

  I waited for him to pop the cork and pour before lifting my glass. “To Vegas.”

  He grinned and tapped his glass against mine. “To you.”

  A blush warmed my skin, and I took a sip. “Do you want to know the best part?”

  “Sure.” Justin flicked the napkin over his knee.

  “I’ve been given an extra ticket. You, my darling husband, are going to be there with me to celebrate. We’ll be staying at The Venetian in a gorgeous room overlooking the Strip. You can come to the show on Saturday afternoon, and then there’s drinks and stuff afterwards. But all day Sunday is ours.” I gripped his wrist and gave him my excited face. “Vegas, Justin! We’ve never been there. It’s gonna be such a blast!”

  “Are you…” He let out a breathy laugh. “Are you sure you don’t want to take your mom or Maria instead? You know how much they love fashion.”

  I sat back, desperately trying to hide my disappointment behind a bright smile. “I could, but I really wanted you to be there. You’ve always been my biggest cheerleader and it just… It seems right.”

  His smile was soft with gratitude before he looked down at his plate and licked his bottom lip. “So, when is it?”

  “About two weeks. I have to leave on Thursday after work to help with setup and all that kind of stuff, but then you can fly in on Friday night or Saturday morning, and we’ve got the weekend.”

  His head bobbed while I talked, but he wouldn’t look up at me. Nudging a piece of chicken with his fork, he started mumbling, “Two weeks, deadline thirteenth, exam week after?” He reached for his phone to check something. “Yeah, yeah, I can probably do that.”

  “Cool.” I grinned, trying not to let his calm, unenthusiastic manner bother me. Spinning the fork between my thumb and index finger, nerves ate at me as I looked down at my plate. “You know this will be our first holiday since… In a really long time. I think it’ll be good for us to get away from work.”

  He tipped his head and looked at me. “Well, you’ll still be working.”

  I blushed and forced another grin. “Yeah, but on Sunday, I’m all yours. And maybe being out of LA will be really good, you know. We can just…focus on each other.”

  My voice was so hopeful, silently begging him to let me back in. Were my eyes doing the same thing? I tentatively reached for his arm, rubbing my fingers over the fine, dark hairs.

  His lips were tight as he reached for my hand and gave it a little squeeze. “You’re right,” he croaked. “It’ll be great.”

  Chapter Ten

  Justin

  My phone hadn’t stopped ringing all week. I picked it up and barked into the receiver, “What?”

  My brusque tone had Kelly whistling at me. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  Closing my eyes, I drooped my head and sighed. “S-sorry. Busy day.”

  She chuckled. “Don’t sweat it. I was just calling to let you know that Mr. Torrence would like to see you.”

  “What? Why?” I couldn’t help the whiny way I said it. My brain was fried having worked around the clock all week so I could turn my phone off in Vegas. The way Sarah looked at me when she said we needed to focus on each other nearly broke my heart. I’d spent most of my life not living up to people’s expectations, but Sarah had always been different. Probably because she’d never expected much from me…until I became her husband.

  I wanted to be there for her, be the man she deserved. After eleven months of slogging it out, I still wasn’t sure I was capable.

  “Do you want me to defer him?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Like that would ever f-fly.” Scanning my schedule, I looked over my workload and cringed. “W-when does he want t-to see me?”

  “He’s free between five and six this afternoon.”

  “I’m supposed to be leaving for V-Vegas at six thirty.”

  “So, defer him.”

  “I-I can’t.” I sighed. “I-I’ll just m-make new arrangements.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I closed my eyes and nodded. “I-it’s not worth pissing off the b-big man.”

  “What about pissing off the wife?”

  “Kelly,” I chided.

  “You’re right. None of my business. Enjoy your meeting.” She hung up, and I scowled at my phone.

  Damn it, that woman was sharp. I hadn’t told anyone about sneaking off to Vegas. I made one little slip-up and Kelly put everything together in thirty seconds flat. Her father was Sarah’s boss—the owner of Echelon Fashion—and he would no doubt be in Vegas for the weekend as well.

  I’d never met the man, but I’d seen pictures. The guy was highly regarded in fashion circles. Sarah had nearly lost her mind when she first got the call inviting her in for an interview. She hadn’t even applied for a job, but her design teacher at Stanford had sent her work to a friend at Echelon. They showed it to Enrique DeMarco, and he offered Sarah a job. She deserved it. She deserved every good thing life could throw at her. I was so incredibly proud of my girl.

  The weight inside me, the one I couldn’t seem to shift, felt heavier than usual. Sarah had kissed me good-bye yesterday morning, and I’d returned to an empty house. It had almost been a relief, which made me feel like the world’s worst husband. But four walls and no humans meant zero expectations. I didn’t have to put on a smile or fight the urge to take Sarah in my arms and make love to her.

  She was so beautiful…and I was so undeserving.

  I wished I could explain it to her. There was so much going on inside me, and I couldn’t get any of it out. I was worried that if I even whispered a word of what I felt, the dam would bust right open, and I’d never recover.

  Snatching up my pen, I pulled the contract I’d been revising back toward me and found my place. The words drew me away from fallout. I focused on the boring text, losing myself in a sea of legal jargon in the hope of keeping my head above water for just a little longer.

  *****

  I knocked on Everett Torrence’s door then tugged down my jacket and made sure I looked presentable.

  “Come in, son,” he called from inside.

  Like my father, Everett had the ability to paralyze me. I pushed the heavy mahogany door open and shuffled inside, taking a seat in the plump chair opposite him. Resting the iPad on my legs, I tried to smile at my father-in-law.

  He frowned at my attempt, shaking his head and gazing out the window. “How are things going for you?”r />
  “Uh…” I cleared my throat. “F-fine, sir.”

  Where was he going with this?

  Threading his fingers together, he knocked them on the desk in front of him. “You enjoying your job?”

  “Of course,” I lied.

  How could I possibly tell him the truth?

  Actually, no, I hate it with a passion. Couldn’t think of anything more boring than law, but see, when you offered me this job I knew it would make everybody happy. And then I need the income, see, so I can save up and help Sarah get started with her wedding business. The one she doesn’t seem that keen on anymore.

  Everett smiled at me, obviously liking my answer. “Good.” He slapped the table. “That’s excellent news. The company is expanding every year, and I don’t like investing money in people who don’t want to be here. So…” He slapped the table again. “I’d like to increase your work hours.”

  “I-increase?”

  “Yeah, well, I’m leaving for Bora Bora next Friday. I’ll be gone for a week, and I have a few important things I want wrapped up before I go. Being away always puts a little more pressure on my exec team. To ease their load, I’m passing on jobs to various underlings in the company.” He chuckled and winked after he said the word underlings.

  I forced a smile.

  “Clay wants to give you more responsibility and I’ve agreed. Now we’ve just picked up a new band—The Euphonics. I’ll email you all the information, and I want you to run the whole process this time. You draw up their contracts, negotiate the terms. Marcus will help you. Don’t get them to sign anything until after Clay’s given them the once-over.”

  “But…”

  “I know you have a lot on your plate with the studying as well, but I’m sure you can handle it. Now, Clay needs first drafts by Monday, before you and Marcus go in to meet with them, and I want everything finalized before I fly out. That way, we can get started with scheduling while I’m away.”