by Robyn Carr
Gail had brought him lunch a couple of hours ago, but she hadn’t stayed long. She’d said she had more work to do. For starters, she was closing the deal on the sale of their pictures for $2.8 million.
Simon didn’t mind working alone, but he frequently found himself thinking of Gail—the way she kissed or cuddled up to him in the night, or watched him when she didn’t realize he was aware of it. The house seemed strangely empty without her, and yet he felt as if he could get lost in his current task for days. The physicality of the work eased some of the deep-seated tension that kept him so wound up.
Just as he was thinking about calling her to see when she might be back, a vehicle pulled up outside. Assuming it was the furniture he’d been expecting, or maybe his wife, he set down his hammer and headed into the living room.
He’d left the front door ajar, partly to enjoy the nice weather and partly to make sure he didn’t miss the furniture delivery, but it was his father who stepped inside.
“You’re making a damn racket,” he said when he spotted Simon.
Simon dusted Sheetrock chalk from his hands and clothes. “So? This is my house. What are you doing here, anyway? Did you come to serve me papers?”
“Not this time.” He slanted his head to look beyond Simon. “Where’s Gail?”
“Gone, but she’ll be back soon.”
He tore the wrapper off a toothpick and shoved it in his mouth. “She’s different from anyone you’ve been with before. You know that?”
Leery, Simon folded his arms. “Different in what way?”
“Better. Stronger. I can see that, now I’ve got some painkiller in me and I’ve had a chance to think.”
Simon agreed with his assessment of Gail, but he wondered how his father had noticed so quickly. “What makes you say so?”
“Not hard to tell.” He handed over an envelope. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
“A release.”
“From the film?” Simon didn’t bother hiding his surprise.
“Take a look.” His father gestured for him to open it.
Simon pulled a single handwritten sheet of paper from the envelope. It said that his contract with Excite Entertainment Production Company had been terminated and all monies paid him were due back in thirty days. It was a fair arrangement, one Simon could live with. “What changed your mind?” he asked.
A faint smile curved Tex’s lips. “I guess I don’t want to be a morally bankrupt old fart all the time.”
Simon had never heard his father talk this way before. “Excuse me?”
“Never mind. I owe you that much. And...” He moved the toothpick to one side and turned to spit over the railing. “I’m sorry I, uh, got involved with Bella. Sometimes even I don’t know why I do what I do.”
Simon wasn’t sure how to react. Tex could be agreeable and easygoing at times, but he always reverted to his more difficult, narcissistic self. Still, the pleasant moments were rare and that made this an Occasion. “So you’re no longer putting all the blame on her?”
“It’s takes two.” Tex lifted a hand in farewell. “Tell Gail to keep fighting. Looks aren’t everything.”
Offended, Simon followed him down the walkway. “There’s nothing wrong with Gail’s looks!”
“See what I mean?” Tex said, chuckling. “She might prove me wrong, after all.”
Simon stopped at the gate while Tex continued on to his truck. “Prove you wrong about what? When have you ever talked to Gail?”
“Don’t worry about it,” his father said. “Just know that she’s the best thing to happen to you in a long time. Don’t take her for granted.”
* * *
“Hey, I didn’t expect to see you.”
Gail glanced up as her father walked into the minimart section of his gas station. She’d known he’d come. A buzzer sounded in back whenever someone stepped over the threshold.
“I just wanted to stop in and say hi.” She handed him his favorite flavor of milk shake, which she’d purchased at the soda fountain down the street. “Where’s Joe?”
“Got a call for a tow. Old Mrs. Reed is stranded with a dead battery over at the bingo parlor.”
“That’s quite an emergency.” She put the shake she’d bought for Joe in the minifreezer located in the tiny break room, which was more like a closet. It also contained the mop, bucket and other supplies they used for cleaning, as well as toilet paper and towels for the restrooms.
“Like what we’ve done to the place?” her father called after her.
He was talking about the new section of the store, where one could buy soft drinks, fruit smoothies and snow cones. She’d been admiring the new machines when she first came in. “I do. Bet it’ll be a hit come summer.”
“Hope so. Cost me enough.”
Gail breathed deep, taking in the scents of motor oil, grease and gasoline that brought back her youth. Oddly enough, the station felt as much like home as the house in which she’d been raised. She’d spent a lot of time here as a little girl, playing with the tools or watching a small TV behind the counter while her father ran his business. When she was a teenager, she’d stocked the shelves, coordinated tows and written up work orders in addition to running the register. Her father had believed in keeping his kids busy. That hadn’t prevented Joe from getting into trouble now and then. She’d never gotten into trouble, but she remembered closing on many Friday nights when her friends were partying after the football game and feeling left out. As an adult she didn’t begrudge her father those hours. She realized he’d probably needed her help—or maybe just her company. For some of that time Joe was away at college.
“Did your furniture ever come?” her father asked.
Gail checked her phone. “I don’t think so. Simon texted me an hour ago to say it hadn’t arrived, and I haven’t heard from him since. He said he’d call when it did.”
Her father glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. “It’s almost three. I’m surprised you’re not over there waiting for it.”
“I wanted to see you.”
Stirring his shake, he tilted his head to look into her face. “Something wrong, Gabby?”
She shrugged. “Nothing serious. I guess I just wondered what you think of Simon.”
“I don’t know what to think yet. He seems nice enough so far. But I don’t form an opinion on nice alone. It takes more to be a good man than a smile.”
She nodded.
“Don’t tell me you two are having trouble already....”
“No. Not at all. He treats me really well. It’s just...” She nibbled on her bottom lip while searching for the right words. “I think I’m falling in love with him.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” he said with a laugh. “You are married to him.”
“But I’d prefer not to be head over heels.”
“Why not?”
She stopped trying to hide the misery she was feeling. “Because I’m scared. What if he never feels the same way toward me?”
“If he doesn’t love you, what’s he doing with you?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I told you I married him to help him. He needs me right now. But that won’t be the case forever.”
Her father took a big spoonful of his milk shake and spoke after he’d swallowed. “No marriage is easy, Gabby.”
“I know that. But...am I crazy to want more than I should expect?”
Her father set his cup aside and took her hands. “Look at me.”
She forced herself to meet his gaze. He had every right to say, “I told you not to get involved with Simon,” but that wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
“Love is always a risk,” he said instead.
“I was fully aware of that coming into this. I thought I could take...whatever. But I
never knew I could fall so hard.”
Her father kissed her forehead. “If Simon’s as smart as I think, he’ll realize what he’s got.”
His reassurance made her feel better. She gave him a hug despite his dirty clothes and left. But as she started her car to go over to the house, a little voice inside her head repeated what Simon’s father had said: He won’t stay with you. You’re not even that pretty.
* * *
When Gail arrived at the house, Simon came to the front door to meet her with his T-shirt tied around his head like a headband. His bare torso was covered in dust, dirt and sweat.
“You’ve been busy,” she said as she got the ribs she’d bought them for dinner from the backseat of her car.
He flopped down on the top step of the porch. “I’m exhausted. I’ll probably be so sore tomorrow I won’t be able to move.”
Captivated by his dazzling smile, she put down the sack and sat next to him. He was tired, but he was happy. She’d never seen him this relaxed, this carefree. Whiskey Creek had been the right place to bring him. She felt certain of that and proud of the self-restraint he’d exercised so far. “I got your text. Furniture’s coming tomorrow, huh? What happened?”
“Truck got a flat. But I think it’s for the best.” His guilty expression made him look younger, almost boyish. “I’ve created a bigger mess than I expected.”
She leaned over to peek through the open door and into the house. Whatever he’d been doing hadn’t extended to the living room. She could see their mattress and bedding in front of the fireplace, apparently untouched since last night, but...the lighting was different. “Did you cover the windows?”
“I did. I wanted us to be able to stay here tonight.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Any particular reason?”
His grin said it all.
Gail was done fighting what she felt. She had him for two years. Although she couldn’t help hoping for more, she knew the chances of her marriage lasting longer than that were slim. She figured she might as well enjoy being with him while she could and if—when—she lost him, she’d let him go gracefully. That way, he’d maintain some respect for her afterward, maybe even remember her fondly. There was no way they could continue to work together—not after being married—but they’d have memories. She preferred that those memories be positive. “I thought you were beat.”
“Not that beat.” He slipped a hand under her blouse but only to caress the skin at her waist. “Getting you naked’s been on my mind all day.”
She untied the T-shirt on his head and smoothed his unruly hair. “Funny, I could say the same thing about you.”
“Then what took you so long to get here? I almost called you a dozen times.”
Oh, boy...she was falling deeper. There was no help for her. “Weren’t you busy?”
“I will be as soon as I get you in the house. But first, a shower.” He started to climb to his feet, but she pushed him back and straddled him right there on the porch.
“Actually, I like you just the way you are.”
“Dirty?” he teased.
“A little dirt never hurt anybody.” She leaned over to whisper in his ear. “I’ve always wanted to get nailed by a contractor.”
He laughed. “I hope Riley doesn’t know that, or I might have some competition.”
She ground her hips against him. “I’m not interested in his hammer.”
His teeth flashed in another smile. “I’m more than happy to show you what I can do with mine.”
In one fluid movement, he sat up, then carried her inside.
“What about the food?” she asked as he kicked the door shut.
He was already nuzzling her neck, telling her she smelled good and tasted good and just the thought of her had been driving him crazy. “Later,” he murmured against her skin. “Right now all I want is you.”
* * *
It was well after they’d showered and eaten and rearranged their bedding so they could sleep that Simon’s phone awakened him. He had a new text message. At this hour, it had to be from Bella. She was the only one who ever bothered him so late. He would’ve ignored it. He didn’t want to leave the warmth and comfort of being tangled up with Gail. Despite her lack of experience, his new wife really knew how to make love. And this time she’d put everything she had into it. God, it was good.
But he was worried about Ty. It’d been so long since he’d talked to his son. Could something terrible have happened to him? Or maybe something not so terrible? Did he have a cold? A stubbed toe? A loose tooth?
Simon ached for the comfort of all the things he’d once taken for granted—Ty crawling into his bed early in the morning and patting his cheeks, whispering, “Daddy, wake up. I want some cereal.” Ty running to him after he’d hurt himself. Ty throwing both arms around his neck and saying, “I love you, Daddy.” Simon had never hurt so much over anything or anyone. The hunger to hold his son made him angry with the woman who was standing in his way, but he knew allowing that anger to overpower him would defeat everything he was doing to get Ty back. He couldn’t act on it.
But thinking about Ty and Bella made it difficult to sleep.
Careful not to wake Gail, he slipped off the air mattress, pulled on his jeans and scooped up his phone, which was lying among the remains of their dinner, before going outside.
The sky was clear, the temperature cool. The stars seemed bigger than he ever remembered seeing them in L.A. He was tempted to blame it on the smog, but knew it was probably him. He hadn’t been paying attention to such details. There was a lot he’d ignored in recent years. Only now was he beginning to realize that he’d filled his life with so many possessions and so much angst and clamor, so much shallowness, that he’d missed the quiet, still things that brought him peace. When had he lost sight of who he really was? Of what he wanted his life to be? He was a critically acclaimed actor, but who was he on a personal level? Had he ever really known?
As he sat on the step and gazed down at his ex-wife’s latest message, he frowned. Why won’t you answer me? she’d written.
She had a restraining order against him, and she had to ask?
He scrolled up to read all the other messages he’d seen and hadn’t responded to, but he stopped short of viewing the video she’d sent the night he cut his hand. He knew if he saw that right now he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from driving to L.A. and busting into her house to get Ty.
Really? You’re going to ignore me?
Maybe I should tell Ty his daddy doesn’t give a shit about him anymore.
Your father’s looking for you. Where the hell are you?
You said you’d never marry again. What, were you too drunk to realize you were saying “I do”? Or were you thinking with your cock again?
Who is the bitch? Your publicist? Were you screwing her all along?
It was hateful, spiteful garbage. He wanted to text back, to vent his anger and frustration as she felt free to do, but what would he say? That he was bitterly disappointed? That they’d created a great kid, the best, and he couldn’t understand why they hadn’t been able to get along?
Simon felt like such a failure—and everything he’d done to escape the self-loathing just made it worse.
Leaning back, he closed his eyes and let the autumn air calm him. He could think more clearly now than he had in months, could see that he was at a turning point. It was time to cut the past away. Sure, he and Bella had messed up their marriage. Sure, he had his regrets. But it was too late to change any of that now. So how long was he going to hang on to the wreckage?
Not anymore, he decided. He was letting go, and he wanted Bella to do the same. From here on out, they needed to handle all communication, at least any communication that didn’t directly concern Ty, through their lawyers, as they’d been advised to do.
But he doubted she would. He knew why she kept jabbing him. She loved him almost as much as she hated him. As twisted as that was, he understood. He’d been struggling with the same love-hate compulsion, which was another reason he’d gotten himself into so much trouble.
Fortunately, Gail had changed everything.
His thoughts turned to his publicist and what they’d shared tonight. Something had changed, grown serious. He’d noticed it in himself as much as her. They’d approached their lovemaking with an emotional intensity that hadn’t been there before, as if possessing each other mattered far more than achieving a physical release. And he’d welcomed that new emotional element, because Gail satisfied him more deeply than Bella ever could.
Somehow Gail, someone he would’ve considered a highly unlikely prospect, given their many differences, had managed to plug the gaping hole in his chest, to stop the bleeding caused by his divorce, his father, his mother—all of it. He wasn’t sure how long being with her would feel this right. He didn’t trust what he was experiencing to last. But he owed Gail enough loyalty to put an end, in every way, to what had come before, with Bella.
Please let me know if Ty needs anything, he typed. I will do everything I can for him. But other than that, don’t contact me. He reread his words, then smiled as he added, I’m happily married.
Twenty-Seven
“Do you see it yet?” Josh’s voice was even more animated than usual.
Gail moved the phone to her other ear as she opened the link he’d just sent her. There, front and center, was a picture of her and Simon on the porch last night with the heading Hot Honeymoon. As she straddled him, his hands circled her waist and he stared up at her. They weren’t photographed from the front, but there was no doubting their identities. “I’m there.”
“Is that really you?”
Clearly, that was her. She looked completely caught up in the moment—and she had been. She and Simon had made love again this morning, a gentle, sweet coupling that was a stark contrast to the explosion of desire last night. She couldn’t decide which she’d enjoyed more. She’d liked both. Sex was so much better when you were madly in love....