The Street Where She Lives

by Jill Shalvis

  Enjoying herself, Emily leaned back in the bed next to Ben. She crossed her bunny-slippered feet and slipped an arm around his shoulders, surveying her squirming mother. “Okay. So he sleepwalks. And even though you sleep with one eye open, he somehow managed to get in under the covers without your knowledge, is that it?”

  “Well…” Rachel glared at Ben. Help me, her eyes demanded.

  When Ben left this time he wanted it to be on good terms, and he didn’t plan on thirteen years going by before he made his way back into this very bed. In light of that, he smiled. “How ’bout this, Em…it’s none of your business why I’m in here. We’re the adults, you’re the kid, and from now on, you’ll knock before you barge in.”

  Em’s mouth opened, then shut.

  “Starting five minutes ago,” he added.

  “You mean…”

  “Exactly. Start this episode over.”

  “You want me to, like, actually go back out?”

  “Like, actually, yes.”

  Emily stared at her mom, who was looking as though she liked that idea very much. “You heard your father,” Rachel said primly.

  Emily let out a rude noise, but got up. Halfway to the door she turned back. “You know, this having two parents in the same house is bogus.”

  “Knock,” was all he said.

  She slammed the door behind her, and Rachel lifted a brow at him. She looked good first thing in the morning, he noted, with her short, short, out-of-control hair and her cheeks quite pink…wearing that robe he’d so eagerly peeled off her last night.

  Emily’s knock came, and he regretted he hadn’t sent her farther away…like into town.

  “Aren’t you going to tell her to come in?” Rachel asked.

  “I still haven’t worked out a good reason for being in your bed.”

  “Maybe you should have left it by now,” she pointed out.

  “Yeah.” As if he didn’t know that. With regret, he tossed the covers off and stood. Where had he left his clothes…? Ah, he saw them now, littered across the floor.

  Another knock. “Dad? Mom?”

  Rachel was staring at his very naked body, her mouth open a little as if she couldn’t quite get enough air. “Hold on, Em!”

  Picking up his jeans from the floor, Ben slid into them. His shirt was across the room, draped over the top of her dresser where it had landed in his hasty strip.

  Another knock, more loudly now. “Dad?”

  “Em, we need another minute here.” He didn’t take his eyes off what he’d found beneath the shirt. An opened artist’s pad displaying a beautiful colored pencil rendering of nighttime South Village. The lights, the people, the shops and theater…it was all there, and in such vivid clarity and detail it could have been a photograph. Mesmerized, he turned the page, and the next picture caught him by the heart and squeezed.

  It was of Emily, Patches and himself, all sitting on the small patch of grass in front of the house, laughing, touching…so absolutely, stunningly real he could almost see Emily breathing, could almost hear the puppy barking. “My God, Rachel.”

  “Those are personal.”

  “They’re incredible.”

  She shut the pad on his fingers.

  “I thought you weren’t able to work. That you were struggling.”

  “Do those look like Gracie columns to you?”

  “So it’s not Gracie, they’re still amazing.”

  “You can’t make a living off renderings, Ben.”

  “You can do whatever you want to do, you damn well know that.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “Of course it is.”

  “Look, ever since the accident, I need my job to be…important. And it’s not,” she finished lamely.

  “Yes, it is. People wait all week for your witty take on whatever is going on in the country.”

  Rachel laughed. “Right.”

  “They do.”

  “Ben…I look at you and your work, and then turn back to my easel and…” Her face fell. “It just feels insignificant. Silly.”

  What was she saying? That she wanted to do what he did? That she suddenly wanted to travel with him? No, that was his fantasy and his alone. “Listen to me.” He took her shoulders, made her look at him. “My work…it’s not for normal people, okay? You know that. I travel all the time, I have no home, nothing to call my own except my equipment. I go to countries people have never heard of and see stuff no one could put together in their worst nightmares, and—”

  “Exactly!” She shoved free. “You want to fix the world, Ben, and you’re not afraid to do it.”

  “You do, too, just in a different way, that’s all.” He softened his voice, stroked a hand over her hair. “Don’t doubt yourself because of me, babe. I don’t think I could stand that. You are who you are, a damn strong, beautiful, intelligent woman, with the sense to keep her feet firmly planted. Me…I’m missing that gene entirely. What I do…that’s all I know.”

  She lifted her gaze to his, and must have seen some of his thoughts, because resignation came into her eyes. “Last night…was that goodbye?”

  Emily knocked again. “Hey! Can I come in or what?”

  Ben couldn’t take his eyes off Rachel, the woman he’d seen in the face of every woman he’d been with in all these years. The woman who’d given him Emily. The one woman who, if he were crazy enough to consider settling down, would be the one to make him want to do it.

  Too bad he was missing that gene, too. “Yeah. That was goodbye.”

  She stared at him, still a little dewy-eyed, and he felt his heart crack. “It has to be,” he whispered back.

  She nodded, and went into the bathroom.

  A FEW HOURS LATER, Agent Brewer called Ben. “We’ve got news.”

  Ben sat down, gripped the phone. “Tell me you have Asada in your hot little custody.”

  “Not our custody. The South American authorities claim to have him.”

  “Claim?”

  “They say he was found dead in his hometown village.”

  “Are they sure?”

  “They think so.”

  “And what do you think?”

  “I’d like it better if we’d been able to ID the body before they cremated him.”

  Shit. Ben rubbed his eyes. “No one from the States IDed him first?”

  “No, but he was reportedly identified by a handful of people who have known and hated him for years.”

  “So…it’s over.”

  “It’s over.”

  Ben hung up the phone, then waited for the relief to overwhelm him.

  But oddly enough, the relief never came.

  From: Emily Wellers

  To: Alicia Jones

  Subject: Sucky days…

  Alicia, my dad is leaving on Tuesday for Africa. I know I told you he was going to stay, that’s what I had hoped for, but it’s okay. I think he and my mom got close on this trip, and I’m going to make sure there’s more trips in the near future.

  Emily stopped typing and sat back. What else could she say? She felt bad because Alicia had gotten lonely in the past few weeks when she’d been so busy. But the truth was, suddenly Emily didn’t feel like doing e-mail every single day.

  Before my dad goes, we’re taking a short camping trip over the weekend. Summer is almost here and Dad says we’re celebrating the upcoming season. He even talked Mom into coming. Can you believe it? The homebody out on an overnight camping trip. Shockers. She must really like him to agree, don’t you think?

  Emily grinned. She thought about how her mother had looked just that morning while staring at her father in her bed, as if not quite sure exactly how he’d gotten there. Oh yeah, things were heating up.

  Anyway, I know you wanted us to meet tomorrow but it’ll have to be next week, okay? I still haven’t asked my mom, she thinks there’s only psychos on the net. I’ll start easing her into it today.

  Emily

  THEY WERE ON their way to Joshua Tree National
Forest. Rachel had never been and she had visions of—not to mention serious misgivings about—spiders, rocks beneath her sleeping bag and more spiders.

  She also had visions of Asada coming back from the dead, but Ben assured her even if Asada hadn’t died, he’d never find them in the desert. The authorities knew they were going and seemed to think it was a good idea for them to get away. But still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this Asada thing wasn’t over. She shivered and glanced at Emily, who was smiling in anticipation from ear to ear, with her head bobbing to some noisy group coming out of her headphones.

  Rachel glanced at Ben, who took his gaze off the road briefly and shot her that smile that never failed to turn her heart on its side.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  She thought about that in a way she never used to, but the truth was, she felt…moderately okay. There were still aches and pains, and she still tired far too easily, but overall, things were so vastly improved, she had to smile back. “Fine, actually.”

  He grinned. “This is going to be great.”

  Well, at least two of them were excited, so that had to be something. How she’d ended up in the car was beyond her. One moment Ben and Emily had been planning this last thing together, just the two of them, and the next, they’d included her as if…as if they were a family.

  But they weren’t, not really.

  And what would happen tonight? Alone in the dark? When their hormones kicked into gear again? Yes, they had Emily as a chaperon, so nothing much could happen, but Ben was nothing if not inventive. Would he want to sleep with her again? Instincts said yes, no matter that they’d already said goodbye. She knew resisting him would be her biggest challenge, especially when just thinking about it made her body feel soft and needy. And hopeful.

  Rachel watched the scenery change and found herself putting aside her anxiety. Instead, she itched for a pad and pencils to capture the vast open space, the rock formations…everything. Spring had been extremely wet this year, and the primroses, sunflowers and other showy varieties bloomed madly across the desert floor. So different and yet so beautiful. The Joshua trees, for which the area had gotten its name, sprouted out of the dessert floor, some up to twenty-five-feet tall. From a distance, they looked like spiny, reaching ghosts.

  “It’s like being on another planet,” she said in wonder as they pulled into a campground.

  The place appeared deserted except for one other party, who’d gone much farther down the road and around a rock outcropping, leaving them with the illusion of being completely alone.

  “It’s early in the season yet.” Ben pulled out the equipment they’d rented—a tent, stove, lantern. He wore jeans sinfully faded and threadbare, with holes in both knees, and one threatening the back of his left thigh. He had a red flannel shirt opened over his T-shirt that looked as soft and ancient as his jeans, and boots that had been around awhile. He was outdoors personified. “Spring can still get pretty brutal weatherwise out here.” He tipped his head back to study the sky.

  She tore her gaze off his body at that and looked upward. Was that a thundercloud? “And so we came here because…why?”

  Emily grinned and danced around. She wore jeans, too, and though they were relatively new, she’d cut holes in the knees to look like her father’s. Rachel’s heart tugged just looking at her.

  “This is going to be so much fun! Can we roast the marshmallows now, or should we go for a hike, Dad? Or how about taking some pictures? Can we?”

  Because of that, Rachel. You’re here, already freezing your tush off, to make her happy. To see her smile.

  “How about we set up the tent?” Ben pulled lightly on Emily’s ponytail, smiling into her happy face, making Rachel swallow hard at the bittersweet feelings just looking at the two of them together provoked.

  The late-afternoon sun reflected off the desert floor. She would have said the desert was brown, brown and more brown, but here in the flesh, she was stunned by how wrong she’d have been. The Joshua trees reaching out for the sky were a vivid green, with dark-brown trunks. The jagged rock formations were a myriad of colors, red and purple and yellow…she couldn’t stop looking around her, feeling the urgent need to get it all down on paper.

  They put together camp. Rather Ben put together camp, with assistance from his eager daughter, while Rachel, feeling stiff and achy due to the surprising chill in the late-afternoon air, was forced to sit in a chair and watch.

  The wind kicked up, blowing the flannel away from Ben’s body, tossing his hair around his face and shoulders as he put together the tent without directions.

  Rachel needed directions just to run her coffeemaker.

  Ben laughed at something Emily said, laughed again as the poles Emily was working on fell to the ground, dumping the tent as well. Frustration bubbled over that she couldn’t get up and help, be involved, but watching had its own merits. Her daughter—their daughter, she reminded herself—was in heaven.

  Had her father have ever laughed with her like that? Smiled at her with such love shining from his eyes? Swallowing hard, she had to admit, Ben had turned out to be an amazing father, and Emily deserved every second she could get with him.

  The tent did eventually go up. The tag on it claimed to sleep four people but Rachel eyed the tiny thing and wondered exactly what size those four people were supposed to be, as it hardly looked big enough for one sleeping bag. The three of them would be packed in there like sardines…

  At least they’d have Emily with them, because being so close to Ben in nothing more than a sleeping bag sounded…damn tempting. In spite of her chill she started to warm up a little, from the inside out, just thinking about it.

  “Mom, we’re going to go on a hike up that peak over there.” Emily was still bouncing around as she pointed to a rock formation a ways off, one that looked high and formidable. “Want to try to come?”

  “Uh…” Now that she’d stopped thinking about Ben in a sleeping bag, and was looking at that mountain they wanted to scramble up, her warmth dissipated. Every single one of her injuries, healed or otherwise, had made itself known in the chill. “I don’t think so.”

  Emily’s smile faded. “You okay?”

  Other than feeling ancient? Other than the fact that just a few months ago she could have outenergized her own daughter? “I’m fine, hon. Just a little sore today.”

  “I thought you were all better.”

  Her own fault, as pride had made her hide any lingering problems from the accident. “Mostly.”

  Ben started a fire, then came out of nowhere with her artist pad and pencils, which he set in her lap. “To help you pass the time.”

  She stared down at her things and was shocked to find them blurring with her own tears.

  “Just do it for fun,” he said softly, mistaking her emotion for distress. “Don’t think of it as work, just think of it as—”

  She put her hands over his and squeezed, swallowing the lump in her throat. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

  He smiled into her eyes, then leaned forward to give her a kiss that brought back some of the warmth. “Look for us, we’ll wave to you from the top.”

  “Ben—” She grabbed his hand when he would have pulled away.

  He touched her face. “You’re safe here, Rachel.”

  “I know.” She felt safe. She always felt safe around him, she realized. “Be careful with our daughter, she’s a bouncing bubble of energy waiting for disaster.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the girl in question, who was already on the edge of their campsite, shifting impatiently back and forth with a camera around her neck. No laptop in sight. Ben turned back to her, his eyes lit with such heat it took her breath. “That’s the first time you’ve ever said ‘our’ daughter.” His voice was low and a little thick. “It’s always been your daughter or my daughter, never…ours.” He stroked a finger over the hand that held her pencils. “I’ve never really thanked you for her—”

  �
��Ben—”

  “So thank you,” he said, and kissed her again, just once, just softly, and by the time she opened her eyes Ben and Emily were nearly out of sight already. But for the longest time she could still feel him. Taste him.

  To keep her mind off that, she opened her pad. Surprising how she could jump right in to sketching out here in the wilderness, when she was still a little cold, not so comfortable in the chair, and worried about her precocious daughter stepping off a mountain and falling to her death, but jump she did. Maybe it was the absence of telephone calls, doorbells, clocks to watch…but whatever the reason, without the day-to-day distractions, she worked as she hadn’t in months.

  Thirty minutes later, she stared down in surprise. She’d drawn Gracie at the helm of a rowboat with her pencil high in the air pointing the way, towing her daughter and Patches, forging on against all odds. Out of nowhere, she’d pulled out a full Gracie column. No agony, no anxiety, nothing but the pure joy of the work.

  She leaned back and looked at the startlingly blue sky. A few white clouds. No sound except a light wind whistling through the canyon and a few scattered birds. And a distant cry of…Mom? Someone was yelling Mom!

  Emily!

  Forgetting her aches and pains she leaped out of her chair, dropping her pad and pencils onto the ground as she scanned the horizon, heart in her throat. She knew it, Emily had gotten herself hurt or—

  There. On top of the nearest rock outcropping, just where Ben had promised they’d stop and wave to her, stood her daughter and the man who’d changed her life forever with just one smile so long ago. Even from that distance she could sense he was giving her another of those smiles now, and she waved wildly, grinning in spite of herself, relief and something else crowding the heart that had stopped in fear only a second before.

  They both waved back, Ben putting an arm on the exuberant Emily before she danced herself right off the cliff.

  “Love you, Mom!” came Emily’s voice, and then they were gone from view.