“Reese’s Pieces?” I look askance at her as I make my way to the bureau.
Aimee sinks into a chair. “Yes. She’s a piece of work.”
That she is. I uncork the wine and pour two glasses. I hand one to Aimee, which she downs. O-kayyyy. I show her the bottle. “Refill?”
“Please.” She holds up her glass.
This time she swirls the glass and sniffs the wine. Then she takes a sip and sets down the glass on the table. She rubs her thighs. “I’m ready.”
I’m not, but I don’t have a choice. I don’t want a choice. This is for Aimee. It’s for us.
I don’t sit at the table with her. I need to stand while I talk through this. It wasn’t one of the best days of my life. In fact, it makes the top-ten list of the worst. I lean back against the bureau in a semistanding position, my legs crossed at the ankles. My mind tracks back to those years with Reese and my stomach curdles. I press my fingers into my abs and set the wine aside, my interest in drinking it gone.
“We’d graduated from college and wanted to celebrate so we went to Vegas. It happened to be the same day my mom was scheduled for release and Stu would be in town to pick her up. There were six of us from college, three guys and three gals. Reese and I were the only official couple. She was also the only one who knew about my mom.”
I meet Aimee’s gaze and she slowly nods, encouraging me to continue. Hugging my chest tight, I pace the room. Her gaze tracks me. I look at the floor as I talk.
“You know the story about how I found my dad drunk in his hotel room and that he told me my mom left before he got there. What I didn’t tell you was what happened afterward. I drove around for hours, convinced I could find my mom at the bus station or waiting for a train. I even tried a few hotels to see if she checked into one. It was a waste of time. She was long gone. I finally met up with my friends on the Strip and proceeded to get really stinking drunk. We were all hammered, but I was a mess, and Reese was right there with me.
“I don’t remember how it happened. Most of the night is a blur and several hours are flat out missing from the memory banks.” I tap my forehead. “I only know that we woke up with rings on our fingers and our signatures on a marriage certificate I found in my suitcase.”
“Holy . . . Wow. I can’t imagine what was going through your head at that moment.”
“Not much,” I say with an unenthusiastic laugh. “Worst hangover ever.”
“What did you do?”
I stop in front of Aimee. “We petitioned for an annulment. It was granted fairly quickly. We were both intoxicated. Happens all the time in Vegas.”
“Technically, you weren’t really married. The marriage was dissolved.”
I sink to my heels and hold Aimee’s hands in mine. “I know, but that doesn’t excuse me from not telling you.”
“You and Reese dated in college and were together for a year after. Did you wish . . .” She stalls, biting her lower lip. I squeeze her hands.
“Did I wish we didn’t get the annulment?” She nods and I hum in thought. “Yes, for all of five seconds, right before I signed the paperwork. I loved her at the time, but she was adamant—we both were—that our careers came first. Marriage was not what either of us wanted at the time. What happened in Vegas was supposed to stay in Vegas.”
“I can’t believe Reese introduced herself to me as your ex-wife.”
“I’m not going to say the b-word, but be my guest.”
Aimee laughs, breaking the tension between us. “She’s a royal—”
A wave of heat tumbles through me. Sweat seeps from my pores. My skin bakes. I let go of one of Aimee’s hands and unzip the hoodie. The room feels like a furnace.
“You don’t look well, Ian.” Aimee touches my forehead. It’s sheened in sweat. “You’re warm.”
“I don’t like octopus. Promise you’ll never boil octopus and make me eat it.” My stomach pitches. I cover my mouth and rush to the bathroom and proceed to humiliate myself inside the toilet.
When I’m done, I fall back on my ass and slouch against the wall. Arms parked on my raised knees, I close my eyes and breathe through the nausea. I’m still tasting paprika. A cool washcloth touches my forehead, then my cheeks. I open my eyes and Aimee is there, kneeling beside me. “Thank you,” I whisper hoarsely.
She hands me a glass of water, which I chug. “Slow down, you’ll get sick again. Better?” she asks when I give her the empty glass.
“Much.” Now that the slimy octo is out of my gut, my stomach has settled. But I feel a crushing weight on my chest and I need to get it off. I fix my eyes on hers. “There’s something else I should have told you.”
“Oh?” Aimee sits back warily.
“I should have told you before I left.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I didn’t.” I roll my head from side to side against the wall. “We’d argue and I didn’t want to do that before I left.”
“What you have to tell me will make me upset?”
“Yes . . . maybe.”
She pushes back her shoulders, which puts her eye level several inches above mine. She looks down at me. “Do I need to remind you I’m not fragile?”
“No. No, you don’t.” I smile weakly and wave a hand, my arm flopping back into my lap. “I’m tired of arguing.”
“Me, too.”
“I don’t want to upset you.”
“Spit it out, Ian, I can handle it.”
“I talked with James.”
“And you thought by mentioning this to me I’d accuse you of bringing up James again.”
I nod.
She sighs, dismayed. “What happened?”
“He came to our house and he gave me Lacy Saunders’s card. Remember her? She’d given it to him with the request to pass it along to me. That’s why he wanted to see me. I called Lacy and—”
“Her number’s disconnected. I know. But I got her new one and I talked to her.”
“So did I. Aimee, her number wasn’t disconnected when I called.”
CHAPTER 20
IAN
“What did she tell you?”
“How did you find her number?” I ask at the same time.
Seven years ago, Aimee had tried locating her number with no success. She even hired a private investigator. Lacy never kept her numbers for long and seemed to constantly be on the move. She disconnected the number on her card immediately after we finished our call. So how did Aimee find it this time?
Aimee’s gaze slides to the door. She stands, rinses out the cloth, and folds it over the lip of the basin. I push off the floor, feeling slightly woozy, but better than a few moments ago. I don’t think I have food poisoning, though my stomach reacted to something. I grab my toothbrush and squirt on a strip of paste.
Aimee moves aside so I can use the sink. “Lacy mentioned that she spoke with you. She wants us to meet her at your dad’s house on Tuesday.”
I tilt my head back so I don’t drool foam when I say, “That’s why I left early. I wanted to get the assignment done before meeting Lacy. It wasn’t because of Reese.”
I spit out the paste, rinse my mouth, and tell her what happened.
After her text about Kristen being in labor, I drove home from the gym to shower before heading to the hospital. And there was Lacy’s card, right beside my keys where I’d dropped them on the table by the door. I figured, what did I have to lose from punching a set of numbers into my phone?
The phone rang and I moved into the kitchen for a Red Bull. Long night ahead, what with Kristen being in labor and all. I expected to get the “This number has been disconnected and is no longer in service” recording and be on my way. But Lacy answered the phone.
“Hello, Ian,” she’d said.
The back of my neck prickled. My pulse took a shot of adrenaline like a junkie. At the sound of her voice, I had an all-around bad-vibe feeling. “Why did you want me to call?”
“You’ve been looking for me.”
“T
hat was five years ago.” Personal data is more accessible on the Internet than it was five years ago. I also had the funds now to hire a private investigator, assuming that’s what I wanted to do. “I don’t need you like I once thought I did.”
“Maybe not, but you do need to listen to what your father has to say.”
My father? The prickles on the back of my neck scampered like cockroaches across my shoulders. What did my dad have to do with Lacy? She was as much a mystery to him as she’s been with me. “I haven’t spoken with him in years. I doubt he has anything to say to me.”
“He will.”
I glanced at the kitchen clock. It was getting late. Aimee was waiting for me at the hospital. “Unless you have something to say, I’m hanging up.” What a waste of time.
“I’m not wasting your time, Ian, so don’t waste mine. Tuesday is a good day. It’s my favorite day of the week. Mondays are the worst. Everyone’s cranky and wants it to be Friday. But Tuesdays? People are more generous on Tuesdays. They give more to charity and they spend more money at stores. The stock market does very well on Tuesdays, too. We vote on Tuesdays. Change happens on Tuesdays. It also has cheaper airfares. I’ll be at your dad’s house on Tuesday. You should come, too.”
“I can’t. I’ll be on assignment.” The most important assignment of my life. Idaho is the last place I want to go.
“That’s too bad. I have news of your mother.” She hung up.
I blinked, pulled the phone away from my ear to confirm she’d ended the call. She had. I immediately redialed. It rang continually. I tried again after I showered. The phone rang; then it answered. “This number has been—” I disconnected.
“I called the airline to see if I could get a flight that night and then called Al. He signed off on me moving up the trip, so I decided I’d go to Spain and get the assignment done before meeting up with Lacy,” I say to Aimee. “It hit me then why I’d been so irritable with you these past months.”
“That’s understandable. James threw us both for a loop.”
“What happened last June hurt, I’m not going to lie. But there’s more to what I’m feeling and it’s not easy for me to admit.” I stop and take a moment, lightly knocking my knuckles on the sink counter.
“What is it?” Aimee asks.
I take a breath. “I’ve resented you.”
“Me?”
I nod. “I envied your bravery. You faced your worst fear when you found James after you thought he died. You not only let him go and moved on, you forgave him. You’re a much better person than me.”
“Don’t say that, Ian. Don’t think so little of yourself. Look at you and your success. You’ve come so far considering what happened to you.”
I shrug. “It’s how I feel. And I can’t keep living this way. I need to put the anger and resentment I feel toward my dad behind me, and I need to deal with my guilt about my mom. That’s why I’m meeting with Lacy. I don’t know what I’m going to find out from her and I’ve got no clue what’s up with my dad, other than my gut telling me something is wrong.”
“And you always follow your gut.”
“I trust that sucker,” I say with a half smile. “I moved up my assignment so I could be in Idaho by Tuesday. Lacy’s favorite day of the week.”
“She’s an odd woman.” Aimee shakes her head, incredulous. “Have you tried reaching your dad?”
“I called him during my layover. He hasn’t called back.” My eyes search hers, so blue and vibrant despite how tired I know she is. “Why are you here? What about the café and your deadlines? You could have called me about Lacy.”
She skims her hands under the unzipped flaps of my hoodie and pushes it off my shoulders. I let her tug the sleeves down my arms. The hoodie drops to the floor. “A long time ago, there was this girl and she was sad. She had lost her fiancé and was desperate to find him. But there was this other boy who loved this girl very much. So much that he traveled to the ends of the world to help her search for the fiancé she thought was her true love.” Aimee lifts my shirt. I raise my arms and she pulls it over my head. The shirt lands on the sweatshirt. Cool air hits my torso and my skin puckers.
“What happened to this boy and girl?” I rasp, my eyes fixated on her fingers as she unbuttons her blouse.
“This girl found her fiancé, but he’d changed. The girl had to let him go, not because he changed, but because she’d grown up during his absence. Now a strong and independent woman with a clear head, she saw the imperfections in their relationship and acknowledged the damage they’d done. But in finding herself, she discovered she loved the boy as much as he loved her.” She parts her blouse, exposing the black lace bra underneath. I groan.
“You’re so beautiful.”
The blouse floats to the floor. “Five years ago, you dropped everything to help me search for James. I want to do the same for you. I want to help you find your mom.”
I steal a kiss from her and it tastes like heaven. My heaven. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Ian. You’re my husband. We’re a family. You don’t have to do everything alone anymore.”
I clasp her head, my fingers threading through her hair, pressing into her scalp. Emotion squeezes my chest. “I thank God every day you walked into Wendy’s gallery and into my life,” I say against her lips, my voice gravelly. I kiss her hard, and when I come up for air, my forehead pressed against hers, our breath hot and mingling, I ask her about Caty.
“She’s fine. She’s with my parents. They’ll watch her as long as we need them to.”
“And the café? Your plans?”
Aimee moves from my arms. “Can we talk about that over dinner?”
“Sure,” I say, somewhat hesitant. “Everything OK?”
She smiles winsomely. “Everything’s perfect. I’ll tell you about it, but after I shower.” She points at herself. “Travel scum.”
I tap my chest. “Hiking scum. Shower with me.”
She winks seductively, sending a zap of electricity straight to my center. “I thought you’d never ask.” She shimmies from her jeans and I’m instantly on fire for her. She’s wearing it, that swatch of lace that matches her bra and covers nothing.
I shove down my jeans and briefs and flip on the shower. Ice-cold water sprays the tiled walls. I rope an arm around her waist and haul her into the stall with me. She screams, ice water sluicing over her head and down her back.
“You jerk.”
“You love this jerk.” I laugh against her mouth, reaching behind her to adjust the water temperature. I unclasp her bra.
“More than words can say.”
She kisses me and before I know it, I’m at a complete loss for words.
After we’ve showered and dressed and before we leave the room, I clasp Aimee’s shoulders. “Are we good here?” I point from her to me. “About what happened between me and Reese?”
Aimee bites into her lower lip and her gaze turns inward. Then she nods. “I think so. Though, don’t expect me to be nice to her,” she says with a frown.
“After the stunt she pulled, you can be as nasty as you want.”
She holds up her fist for a bump. “Deal. And, Ian? I do forgive you for not telling me about Reese.”
I cradle her face and press my lips to her forehead, my eyes drifting closed. “And I forgive you.”
“For what?”
I lean back and look down at her face. “For last summer, with James. In my head, I forgave you the moment you told me, but I never said it out loud to you. I’m sorry.”
Aimee closes her eyes and nods. “Thank you,” she whispers.
I kiss her lips, gently, lovingly. “We’re good together.”
She smiles. “Yes, we are.”
I grin and open the door, standing aside to let her through. “Let’s go eat. I think we’ve earned ourselves a warm meal.” Alone, I hope, without Reese dining alongside us. I’d lost my lunch today. I didn’t need to lose my dinner, too.
We walk to the inn
’s restaurant. When we pass the pool, I reach for her hand to stop her. She turns into me, chest to chest, and looks up. Wood smoke fills the air and the clouds have moved on. An obsidian sheet swathed in stars glistens overhead. Dishes clatter in the kitchen yards away and the colorful notes of a classical guitar ride the night air from an open window. Other than that, the countryside is quiet, settled in for the night.
“The sky is unreal,” Aimee says. “I have to get out of the city more. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen so many stars.”
I hum, transfixed by the reflection of starlight in her eyes. She looks at me and I give my head a virtual shake before I get sappy and drag her back to our room.
“You didn’t answer my question earlier. How did you get in touch with Lacy?”
Aimee lets go of my hand and backs away a step. I frown. That’s not a good sign.
“Aimee?”
“Yeah . . . um.” She twists her hands together. “I didn’t find her. Thomas did.”
My head snaps back. “You got Thomas involved?”
“James told me a little about how Thomas kept him hidden in Mexico. There’s no doubt in my mind Thomas has connections. I figured if anyone could find a working number for Lacy, he could.”
“So you called him.” My tone has a hard edge.
“I met with him at his office.”
White-hot rage plummets through me, coursing through my limbs like molten steel. Every part of me burns. I’m angrier than I’ve been in a long time, more than I felt toward Reese earlier or at James for kissing my wife. I inhale, nostrils flaring and lungs filling to capacity, and then I release a rope of the most unsavory, foul language I’ve probably spewed in Aimee’s presence. Her eyes go camera-lens round and she backs up. Looking around, she moves her hands up and down, urging me to lower my voice.
I can’t look at her. I turn around and walk away.
“I’m sorry, Ian, but I figured Lacy had something urgent to tell you and I didn’t know who else to go to in such a short time.”
Her apology rips me apart inside. Hands on hips, I turn to her. “Good God, Aimee. I’m not upset with you. It’s me. I’m angry with myself. You went to see him because of me. I put you in that position. After everything he’s done to you.” Just thinking about Thomas makes her physically sick. “God, I’m sorry, baby. I should have told you about James and Lacy.”
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