Reckless in Moonlight

by Cara Bristol

  Lon chuckled in sympathy.

  “Your mother refuses to unfavorably compare her children, but you weren’t nearly as rambunctious, and there was only one of you.”

  His father lifted his beer and took a swallow. He set the can on a paper napkin he’d plucked from a holder on the table. “You’re a man now, in charge of your life. Your mother and I are very proud of you. You’ve made good decisions.”

  Up until now. It wasn’t Lon’s imagination that added the unspoken qualifier. Over his bifocals, his father’s blue eyes beamed with the assessment capability of an MRI scanner. Lon held his gaze, noting absently his father’s formerly blond hair, which had darkened to brown over the years, was now threaded with silver, although it was as thick as ever. A spray of lines radiated outward from the corner of his father’s eyes, but overall he was a handsome man who still turned the ladies’ heads when he entered a room.

  “I know what I’m doing,” Lon said.

  “Have you been seeing her long?”

  “A few weeks.” Lon rubbed his palms over his thighs. He remembered how smooth and soft Dana’s thighs had felt against his legs as he’d pounded into her from behind. By taking control, he had lost it. Dana had unleashed a new side of him. He thought of the underwear in his pocket, and he pressed his lips together to keep from grinning.

  His father nodded as if considering the information. “She’s an attractive woman.”

  Only in a sizzling, cock-throbbing way. “Yes.”

  “Where do you see this relationship going?”

  “I don’t know.” Though his feelings for Dana ran deep, he hadn’t put words to them or vocalized them. But when he did, Dana—and not his father—would be the first to hear them. Lon shrugged, lifting his hands palms up before closing one around the beer and toying with the can. “It’s only been a couple of weeks.”

  “So it’s just a casual thing?” His father’s voice slightly rose on a hopeful note.

  Lon shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t say that.”

  “Your mother says when she was single, she had a policy of never dating anyone she couldn’t see herself marrying. You can’t predict when a casual relationship will turn serious, so starting out with the right person prevents problems later.”

  Lon gripped the beer and decided to address the real issue. “I don’t see our age difference as a problem.”

  “You know how Braden and Jeff look up to you. During the camping trip, they talked about you nonstop, collected things to show you. And you’re great with them—you’re a natural with kids.”

  Lon plucked at the metal tab, unsure where his father was going.

  “Does Dana want to have more kids? Would Dana be able to have children?”

  “For God’s sake, Dad!” Lon knocked back a slug of his beer and slammed the can on the table. “I only started seeing her, and you’re imagining us having kids together.” As much as he doted on his younger brothers, Lon wasn’t sure he wanted kids of his own, although he hadn’t given it much thought because he’d been so focused on his career.

  He twisted his mouth, fighting irritation. “This is so premature. But since you brought it up, remember Mom was almost Dana’s age when she got pregnant with Braden and Jeff.” He didn’t volunteer Dana had had her tubes tied. Tubal ligation could be surgically reversed, but by the time he was ready to have kids—if he decided he wanted them—Dana would be menopausal. Most likely another child was not in her future.

  “I’m saying it’s something to consider.”

  “Consider it considered. What else is bothering you?” Lon fixed a challenging stare at his dad and waited for the other objections. If he knew his father as well as he thought he did, he was sure he had them.

  “She’s still married.” A catch in his dad’s voice indicated he’d gotten to his real concern.

  Lon relaxed. Of all the possible objections, this one carried the least weight. Lon shook his head. “She’s legally separated. The divorce will be final any day now.”

  “A marriage isn’t over until it’s over.”

  “It’s over.” Lon dismissed the concern with a wave. “Her ex-husband has a girlfriend. That’s why the marriage ended—he left her for another woman.”

  His father stared out the kitchen window for a long moment. In the darkened glass, his expression turned grim, and then he sighed. “Remember the summer after your junior year of college?” He turned his gaze back to Lon. “You were undecided whether to work or go backpacking across country. Your mother and I encouraged you to go with your friends.”

  “Yeah.” Lon frowned at the change of subject, at the old history. “You told me there would always be time to work, but I shouldn’t pass up the opportunity to gain new life experiences.”

  “Your mother and I were going through some new life experiences ourselves. But not positive ones.”

  “What do you mean?”

  His father stared over the rims of his glasses. “We were in the process of divorcing.”

  “What?” Lon’s jaw dropped. “No way.” He shook his head in disbelief.

  His father’s chest expanded with his breath, and the corners of his mouth drooped. “We got as close as a couple can get without signing the papers. It was ugly and very bitter. The only thing we could agree on was that we didn’t want you affected by the acrimony. Your mother stayed in the house, and I, uh, moved out.”

  Lon couldn’t have been more stunned if his dad had announced he wasn’t his father but an alien transported from the mother ship to possess Bart Corbin’s body. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Lon tossed his head to clear the fog from his brain. “This floors me.” His parents’ unity had been the rock of his childhood. They were a team. They were the poster couple for successful marriage. Everyone touted their union as the example of what matrimony could be. And though the marital difficulties had occurred years ago and he had been unaffected at the time, the revelation hit him now like a racquetball to the head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Your mother didn’t want you to know, and after everything that had occurred, I respected her wishes. We wanted to keep you out of it.”

  Playing for time to collect his thoughts, Lon focused on the inconsequential, the mundane. “So you, what, like, got an apartment? He took a pull of his beer. It tasted bitter now.

  “I moved in with the woman I had an affair with.”

  “Son of a bitch!” The racquetball bounced off the court and caught him in the nuts. Lon crushed the empty can in his hand.

  “You cheated on Mom? How could you?” His mother must have been devastated, the way Dana had been when her ex started screwing around. Lon thought his father was a man of character and honesty and had respected him even if he didn’t always agree with him. Lon scrutinized the man sitting across from him. Who was he?

  His dad met his stare unflinchingly. “At the time, I rationalized it plenty, but I don’t excuse my behavior. Your mother has forgiven me, and I’ve spent every day of my life since then making it up to her, to give her no cause for concern.” His father removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He donned them and cleared his throat. “I know you thought—”

  “There’s more?” Lon held up his hand to forestall any new revelations. “I don’t want to hear this.” Lon cast his attention on their reflection in the window. All the Corbin males shared a strong resemblance. In his younger brothers, Lon recognized himself as he had been; in his father, he saw who he would become. Except he never would hurt the woman he loved.

  “You thought Braden and Jeff were late-in-life accidents,” his dad continued. “They weren’t. They were reunification babies. I was satisfied with one child; your mother had wanted more. After the affair, I agreed to have another baby. One turned out to be two.”

  Of all the confessions, that one shocked him the least. Shaking his head, Lon contemplated his father. Anger on his mother’s behalf seethed in his chest, but that wasn’t the only reason. “You cheat on Mo
m, and then you want to lecture me about my relationships?”

  “That’s the point. I cheated on your mother. We had pens in our hands to sign the divorce papers when we agreed to try one last time. Despite all the hurt I caused, our marriage now is stronger than ever.

  “Dana Markus and her husband might divorce. But it’s possible her husband might come to his senses the way I did, and she might forgive him like your mother did me. They’ve been together how long? Twenty years? Twenty-five? Weeks can’t compare to a long-term marriage.”

  Lon couldn’t take any more. He stood. “If there was a chance of Dana reuniting with her ex, she would tell me. She wouldn’t lead me on.” Their physical union had been a melding of mind and spirit. They hadn’t fucked; they’d made love.

  Lon tucked his chair under the kitchen table. “Thanks for the beer.” He turned on his heel.

  “I know Dana,” Lon shot over his shoulder. As he stomped out of his parents’ house, he trampled on the little voice that reminded him that he assumed he’d known his father too.

  Chapter Eight

  Katie feigned interest as she flipped through the hangers on the rounder. The shirts were ugly—everything in the small, crowded store was. She pulled a hideous top off the rack and held it up. The yellow-brown shade matched the color of baby poop. What were the designer and the store’s buyer thinking? Not only was the color atrocious, the clingy ruffled scrap would barely cover her tits.

  The ugliness of the top and the stupidity of the buyer in selecting it added to the anger and frustration that had been growing since she’d first run into her mother outside the restaurant. At the sight of her mother clinging to the neighbors’ son like a wet piece of plastic wrap and him sporting a major woody, the truth had finally hit home. Her parents were divorcing.

  Her mother had been calling to set up lunch, but Katie had dodged her for two weeks until she couldn’t anymore. She didn’t know what to say. It was selfish, but she wanted her parents to stay together, to try to work it out.

  She sneaked a glance at her mother. Her forehead was wrinkled into an expression of pain, but whether it resulted from the clothing selections or the music squealing over the store’s speakers was difficult to ascertain.

  Who was that woman? Who were her parents? Creek’s Crossing was a small town; people whispered, and gossip could get around. If her mother wasn’t more circumspect, she would ruin her chances of saving her marriage. Her dad’s affair with Mila had dealt a hurtful blow, but didn’t men go through stuff like that? At least half her friends’ parents had had affairs, and they’d stayed together. Couldn’t her parents go to counseling and patch it up?

  If they didn’t, Katie would never forgive herself.

  She was the one who’d invited Mila to the house, had introduced her to her parents, had been pleased that her father seemed to like Mila when he disapproved of so many of her other friends. Her parents had to stay together. They had to!

  Katie pulled a top off the rack that didn’t look too bad. “What do you think?” She turned and trained her gaze on her mother’s nose. She couldn’t erase the image of her mother sitting so close to the guy that she’d been practically giving him a lap dance. Her parents had never acted that way. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d even seen them kiss. Katie wanted to cry.

  “Do you like that?” Her mother eyed the top.

  Katie sighed and thrust it back on the rounder. “You’re right; it’s ugly.”

  “I didn’t say that.” Her mother shook her head.

  “You didn’t have to. You have a way of getting your message across without saying a word.”

  Her mother sighed. “Let’s go somewhere quiet to talk. I don’t like to see you so upset.”

  “I’m not upset. It’s just a shirt.”

  “Katie.” Her mother’s voice turned firm. “We need to discuss…Lon.”

  At the mention of his name, Katie’s hand froze on another ugly shirt as an epiphany flashed like a rocket flare. “Oh. My. God!” She whipped around to gape at her mother. “That condom was yours!” Her voice rose. “You had sex with the neighbors’ son in the swimming pool!”

  Despite the blaring music, heads turned. Nearly everyone in the tiny store gawked.

  Her mother flushed diaper-rash pink. “For God’s sake, keep your voice down.” Her eyes shifted to the curious onlookers, and she nervously tucked her hair behind her ears, confirming Katie’s suspicions.

  “I need some air.” Katie fled the store for the open mall.

  Her mother caught her arm several stores down and halted her escape.

  “Let’s talk someplace private.” Her mother glanced at the shoppers streaming around them.

  “I shouldn’t have come today.” Katie wrenched out of her mother’s grip and took off down the mall. It was bad enough to realize one’s parents had sex with each other—but the idea of them with other people was not something she wanted to contemplate. Ever. Her mother had seemed so, so maternal. And now she was boinking the neighbor boy. Well, neighbor man.

  Her mother kept pace beside her. “I’m mystified as to why me dating a younger man bothers you more than your father with a younger woman.”

  “It’s not the age thing. Really, it’s not. It’s just—everything.” Katie threw up her hands with frustration. “Why can’t you and Dad work it out?” She risked a glimpse at her mother, and the flicker of pain that flitted across her face caused Katie’s throat to close up. Damn that Mila. And damn her father. Most of all, damn herself. Why had she invited Mila to the frickin’ pool party!

  “Because we’ve both moved on.”

  “I thought that once Dad got over his midlife crisis, you guys would reunite.” She’d hoped, desperately.

  Her mother shook her head. “That’s not going to happen. I’m so sorry you’ve been hurt by this.”

  Katie scurried down the mall as if a small animal nipped at her ankles, and Dana expelled her breath and sank onto a bench, needled by maternal guilt. During all the divorce proceedings, the one thing Dana had felt confident about was that Katie would be okay; she was old enough to be unaffected by the upheaval. Up until now, she had acted like she’d taken the divorce in stride.

  Why hadn’t she noticed her daughter was suffering? She should have been more attuned, shouldn’t have taken her daughter’s reassurances at face value.

  As much as Dana wanted to, she couldn’t blame Roger completely. They were both at fault. If they’d had the love, the trust, the chemistry—if they’d been able to fill each other’s needs—he wouldn’t have sought companionship elsewhere. Roger, in his own screwed-up way, had tried to improve his lot in life, while she had been content to drift along in a marriage that offered only mild satisfaction at best and often not even that.

  At what point had she decided settling was acceptable? Dana couldn’t remember.

  Even if by some infinitesimal chance Roger wanted to reconcile, Dana no longer wanted to be his wife. Although they’d been friends, lovers, and spouses, the truth of the matter was they should have stopped at friendship. Lon had shown her that. The taste of ecstasy she’d experienced under his hands, his mouth, his cock—with his wicked little toys—had shown her she could never be happy in a bland relationship.

  She’d have to find another way to make things right with her daughter.

  Roger was Katie’s father, and Dana would continue to love him in a friend sort of way, but she wasn’t in love with him, wasn’t pussy-drenchingly attracted to him the way she was with Lon. She didn’t know where that relationship would lead, but she was eager to find out.

  Dana rose to her feet and headed for home.

  Chapter Nine

  Dana was giving the once-over to a report for executive management detailing how her public relations department had handled the previous month’s heat-wave crisis when her cell phone went off. She didn’t recognize the caller, but so many people had her number, that was often the case.

  “Dana Markus.” She held t
he cell to her ear as she continued to scroll through the computer screen.

  An odd hitching sound echoed through the earpiece, almost like a heavy breather, but higher pitched. She moved her finger over to the Disconnect button. “This is Dana. Hello?”

  Hiccoughing, then: “M-M-Missus, I mean D-Dana?”

  “Yes. Who is this?” she asked. If she didn’t get a good answer, she would hang up.

  “This…this is Mila.”

  Dana stiffened. The voice didn’t sound like the Mila she knew, but then, she didn’t speak to Roger’s mistress. Her lips thinned as a ration of old anger resurfaced. She’d rather listen to a heavy breather.

  “It’s…it’s—” the girl stuttered, all the while gurgling.

  A lightbulb clicked on. “Are you crying?” Dana lifted her finger from the End button.

  “Roger had a heart attack.”

  “Oh my God!” Dana leaped to her feet, the motion shoving her chair into the wall. Her heart rate doubled, but she forced herself to think, to not overwhelm a distraught Mila with a barrage of questions. Using her best crisis-management voice with a calmness she didn’t feel, she asked, “Where is he?”

  “On…on the way to…to the hospital. In an ambulance.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In my car. Driving to the hospital. I’m afraid he’s going to die!” Mila’s voice rose on a crescendo.

  A sobbing, talking, driving Mila was an accident waiting to happen. “Take a deep breath. If he’s in the ambulance, the EMTs are taking care of him.” Dana prayed it was true, that they had gotten to Roger in time.

  “How do you know he had a heart attack?” Dana closed the file on her computer and switched it off. She grabbed her purse from her desk drawer.

  “He collapsed. He’d been feeling sick all morning and said his arm hurt.”

  Shit! An icy rope of fear coiled in Dana’s stomach. She forced herself to take a few deep, calming breaths. It wouldn’t do Roger, Mila, or Dana herself any good if she unraveled. “Where are they taking him?”