by Thea Dawson
“Are you … okay? With what just happened?” he asked, watching her try to straighten her hair with her fingers for a moment before giving up. “You don’t regret it, do you?”
She turned and faced him with an expression of such intensity that he felt it as a physical force. Her lips were swollen with his kisses, her skin was glowing, and her eyes were still dark with desire. He was pleased that he’d played a role, but he suspected there was more to the look on her face than just his performance. He’d met some assertive women over the years but he’d never been with anyone who’d knocked him flat the way Joy just had.
“That was incredible, Chris. Really,” she breathed, leaning in and squeezing his hand for a brief moment before letting it drop. “The most amazing … No, I don’t regret it, I just … I guess I just wasn’t expecting … yeah … you don’t need a ride or anything, do you?” She sounded absent-minded as she looked around. Her eyes lit on her purse again and she picked it up.
“Nah, I’m good.” He shook his head for emphasis.
“Good.” She gave him a distracted smile. “I guess I’ll be going. Just close the door after you. It’ll lock, so don’t leave anything behind.”
The she was gone, the sound of the back door closing echoing behind her.
“What the hell just happened?” Chris asked, but the empty room didn’t answer.
“What the hell did I just do?”
Joy was driving home through the dark, quiet streets. Her body humming with satisfaction, but her mind turbulent with thoughts and emotions. There was so much to process that she wasn’t sure where to even begin.
She thought back, trying to remember if she’d ever had sex that deliriously, extraordinarily exciting ...
Nope.
The few experiences she’d had before she met Scott had been unfulfilling at best, just clumsy teenage groping in the dark. Scott himself had been a thoughtful and attentive lover; sex with him had been enjoyable, but never particularly passionate. With him, she had always felt an undercurrent of duty, a sense that if they hadn’t been married, she might not have bothered …
It had been thirteen years since a kiss—let alone sex—had made such an impression on her. Thirteen increasingly passionless years with Scott, thirteen years in which she’d felt her life getting smaller, in tiny, almost unnoticed increments.
But tonight, she started to feel it open up again, to feel an expansion in possibility, desire, and excitement.
It was exhilarating, amazing … and terrifying.
Tonight, all the frustration and anger that she’d been bottling up for so long had come to a head in a way she would never have foreseen, only to be replaced with a confusion of desire and fear.
She could easily fall for Chris; the combination of steamy sex, good looks, and all-around nice-guy-ness was pretty unbeatable. But, she reminded herself, he was just there for the summer. And while they might eventually make the logistics of a long-distance relationship work out, there was no cure for the fact that he was a star, constantly being talked about, always in the public eye. Moreover, even if he wasn’t engaged to Vanessa Swink, his career put him in the path of beautiful, successful, much younger women on a daily basis. If she couldn’t hold together a marriage to a man her own age in Silverweed Falls, what hope did she really have for a relationship with a younger Hollywood movie star?
She parked in the driveway and sat for a moment. The thought of her marriage had brought something else to the surface, an uncomfortable but insistent question as she relived her passionate evening with Chris …
… Was that what it had been like for Scott with Melanie?
Somewhere deep inside, something had been shaken loose, the idea that Scott, too, might have deserved more from their marriage. Surely he’d noticed her gradual withdrawal from their relationship, noticed that he was always the one to initiate intimacy, never the one to hear the words “I love you” first.
Not, she reminded herself, that she could condone the sneaking, the lying and the betrayal of her trust, but it was dawning on her that she could at least understand his desire for more. Maybe it was time to forgive, and move on. To release the baggage of resentment and bitterness that had kept her stuck for so long.
She got out of her car, and went inside, her mind and heart still racing. Wonderful, handsome, sexy, unengaged Chris. She should have told him what an amazing experience it had been and given him a better explanation—well, any explanation—for simply leaving, but she’d been too overwhelmed to think properly. Anyway, it hadn’t been the time for conversation; they’d either have fallen back into their playful bickering, or worse, gotten awkward around each other. Better to just exit gracefully.
He was just here for the summer, after all; just a few more weeks. There was no point in hoping for more, but if he was willing—and if tonight was anything to go by, she thought he would be—she’d make the most of the time they had left. He’d understand; he’d probably be relieved to know that she wasn’t looking for something serious.
She went upstairs to get ready for bed. She’d have to be careful, but as long as she reminded herself that this was temporary, she’d be okay. Weren’t people supposed to have rebound flings after they got divorced? She was overdue for hers, she thought as she slipped out of her clothes, inhaling the scent of Chris’s cologne on her skin. For virtually her entire life, she’d been the good girl who’d always done what she was supposed to do. Gone to a good college, gotten a good job, married a good man. None of them had ultimately made her happy, but here she was, still clinging to what she could, still keeping up appearances.
Hell. With. That.
This summer, she was going to live for herself … and make the most of Chris McPherson’s astounding body as long as she could.
She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to fall asleep, but when she slid into the cool, silky sheets, she realized she was exhausted. She closed her eyes and drifted off into a night of deep, restful slumber.
17
Chris woke up the next day with the sense that he’d forgotten to do something. He blinked blearily at Professor Estrada’s ceiling for a moment before he remembered what had happened the night before.
Oh, right.
Insane, risky sex with an unbridled, passionate Joy.
The sex had been incredible, beyond his wildest dreams, which had already been disposed to a best-case scenario. But he hadn’t been prepared for an encounter so driven by hunger and lust.
And she’d walked away from it so ... casually. Satisfied, clearly, but with absolutely no apparent emotional attachment. He’d had some—okay, plenty—of one-night stands back when he was younger, but however amazing the sex, he’d never really enjoyed waking up naked next to someone he barely knew. The experience had always left him feeling empty and slightly embarrassed. He didn’t think he’d ever simply left anyone like that.
Today he felt more confused than anything.
It was time to get back in control of the situation.
It was still early when Joy opened her door the next morning to find Chris standing there with two coffees from Riverfront and a sexy smile on his face.
“Good morning. Is Charlotte still in Portland?” he asked.
Joy nodded, heat rising in her core at the thought of what she and Chris could do in an empty house. Charlotte wouldn’t be back until after lunch and would go straight to rehearsal.
Chris’s smile grew broader. “Can I come in?”
She nodded again as he stepped across the threshold. She took the coffees from him—one cold, one hot—smiled at him seductively, then turned her back on him and walked up the stairs. She could feel him behind her as if drawn to her magnetically and she quickened her step, eager to get to the bedroom.
Once there, she placed the coffees on the dresser and turned around to find Chris just a few inches from her. Desire blossomed in her chest as she met his eyes and saw her own longing reflected in them.
“I really came over to talk,” he
whispered, but she stepped closer and put her arms around him, drawing his face down to hers for a kiss.
A couple of hours later they were sprawled in bed, exhausted. The coffees, abandoned on the dresser, were probably the same temperature by now. Chris had to fight through the endorphins to remember why he’d come over in the first place.
They certainly hadn’t done any talking—unless you counted the moaning, some screaming, and Joy’s surprisingly direct instructions—right there! Harder! Yes! The memories were getting him aroused again, so he pushed them aside and tried again.
“Not that I’m complaining about the way things turned out, but I really did come over just to talk.”
Beside him, Joy stretched languorously—the words queenly but sensual rose in his mind—rolled over and snuggled against him. “Mmm. What did you want to talk about?” she asked sleepily.
Immediately, he was at a loss for words. He’d somehow imagined that she’d want to talk too, and would leap at the chance. He hadn’t counted on having to lay his cards on the table first.
“Oh ... you know ... I think you’re really ... nice.” Mentally, he slapped himself. It was the lamest opening he could have come up with. He really did need someone else to write his dialogue for him.
“Thank you,” Joy replied with a lazy, seductive laugh. “I think you are hot. As. Hell,” she replied, punctuating each word with a gentle bite along his chest.
He shivered, willing himself not to get distracted. “The thing is, Joy ... uh, where do you see this going? This ... I mean...” he waved his hand vaguely between the two of them. “You know …?”
She rolled a quarter turn away from him and stretched again. “Chris, if this is the let’s-be-friends speech, don’t worry about it. It’s okay. I’m still getting over my divorce, and I know you’re just here for the summer. But …” she rolled back toward him and nuzzled his chest, “if you’re up for a kind of friends-with-benefits arrangement for the summer, I would have absolutely no objections to that, because this is the most incredible sex I’ve ever had.”
“Is that really what you want? I don’t—”
“Chris, it’s fine.” She propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at him. He brushed a strand of dark hair away from her face. “It’s better than fine. I know we’re different ages and different lifestyles … I’m not trying to tie you down. I don’t want to be tied down myself.”
Was it possible he’d heard just the faintest trace of hesitation in her last words or was that wishful thinking on his part?
“That’s really what you want?” he asked.
She broke eye contact with him and pushed herself away, half-sitting up against the headboard. “Yes,” she replied. “… I’m not ready for another commitment. I want to live life on my own terms for a while.”
Now he propped himself up to look at her. She looked beautiful, relaxed and happy, but something cold and heavy settled in his chest along with the knowledge that it wasn’t him who was making her happy. It was some idea of freedom and change that didn’t, apparently, include him—except as a distraction over the summer.
“Cool,” he said, keeping his voice even. “Friends with benefits, I guess.” He would go along with this, see where it went. Maybe there would be room to grow this strange relationship into something deeper. And if not ... well, he’d deal with that when he had to. “It’s getting late. Do you want to go out for lunch?”
She thought about it, then shook her head. “No, we have to be at rehearsal in just a couple hours. I think I’m going to call Eva and talk to her about putting the house on the market once and for all. I want to start making some changes.” She grinned. “But maybe before you leave, we could take advantage of this benefits thing again?” She bit her lip seductively and looked at him.
Without speaking, he rolled her over and pinned her beneath his muscular frame, fisting her hair in his hand and kissing her hungrily.
He’d take what he could get.
For now.
Joy was there at the rehearsal that afternoon, of course, but once she’d unlocked the theater doors, she vanished somewhere backstage, giving him nothing more than a polite smile to acknowledge their passionate morning and the astonishing night before. He was left sitting on the stage, waiting for the cast to show up.
Tracie and Wyatt were the first to arrive. He watched them walk down the aisle from the lobby, hand in hand. Wyatt looked down at Tracie and said something that Chris couldn’t hear. Tracie looked up at him and gave a little laugh.
Chris contemplated the odd pair as they got closer. Surely he and Joy had at least as much in common as the flower child and the cop—why weren’t they walking around hand in hand, exchanging little private jokes?
Tracie strolled up to him. “Hey, Chris. Krystal won’t be making it tonight,” she said apologetically.
“Is she okay? What happened?” he asked.
“She and her fiancé kind of broke up.”
Chris winced. “What happened? Did he break up with her over text or something?”
Tracie’s lips curled in a rare expression of contempt before she dropped her eyes. “Well, she broke up with him, but I can’t really get into the details …”
“Oh, sure, I understand—”
“But it was a big shock. He’d just bought her a ring and everything, and then… well, things didn’t work out. It was really sudden.”
“Yeah, she definitely looked shocked.” He paused, hating to sound mercenary, but knowing that he’d have to act fast if she was dropping out for good. “Will she be coming back to the play, do you think?”
“Oh, yes,” Tracie hastened to assure him. “She wants to come back, and she knows she’ll feel better if she keeps busy. She just needed some alone time this afternoon.”
Chris nodded in guilty relief. At least he didn’t have to worry about replacing one of the lead roles. “Glad to hear she’ll be back.
“What about you?” Tracie studied him, concern in her eyes. “There’s something different about your aura. I’m getting a sense of mixed signals. Something you want but don’t want …?” She made a pulling gesture with one hand and a pushing gesture with the other. It reminded him of Rob’s tai chi.
Beside her, Wyatt cleared his throat. “Hey, babe, not everyone’s comfortable talking about their auras, remember?”
“Oh, right, sorry!” Tracie looked contrite.
“No, no, that’s fine,” Chris assured him, rather intrigued by the idea that someone might have a way to describe turbulent emotions he was feeling. “Do you really, like, read auras and stuff?” He wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with various woo woo practices; things like energetic realignments and angel guides were popular among many of his Hollywood friends.
Tracie nodded brightly. “Yep. Right now, yours is kind of … well, it’s sort of messed up. Like it’s trying to go in two different directions at once.”
“I don’t think she meant to imply that you’re messed up,” Wyatt hastened to assure him.
“Oh not at all!” Tracie assured him, “… much.”
At that moment, Joy strode across the stage from the wings to join the little group. Even though he’d seen her just a few minutes ago, something in Chris’s chest lurched at the sight of her. He forced himself to look casually away from her and became aware that other actors had filed into the theater and were sitting scattered in small groups around the auditorium. Charlotte had come back from Portland and was seated with her friends; he felt a twist of discomfort wondering what she would think if she knew about him and her mother. He was also aware that Tracie was staring intently at Joy.
“Ready to get started?” asked Joy briskly.
Chris slid off the edge of the stage where he’d been sitting and clapped his hands. “Yep, let’s go!”
Joy was on the back steps of the theater with Tracie, Luke, Charlotte, and Wyatt, filling in for Krystal as they went over their lines in Act Three, Scene Two. Tracie was becoming more fluent and less gig
gly, but she was still reading from her script, which hampered her ability to look up and engage with the other actors.
“Get you gone, you dwarf; You minimus, of hindering knot-grass made; You bead; you acorn!” Luke scowled at Tracie, who bit her lip and studied her script.
“Your boyfriend’s just called you a midget and told you to go away,” Joy whispered. “Demetrius has the next line, but you need to react here, look offended.”
Tracie managed a strangled gasp of outrage, crossed her arms over her chest, and half turned her back to Luke. Joy nodded in approval as Wyatt began his next lines.
After they’d read through that part of the scene several times, Joy giving Tracie more pointers as they went, Charlotte and Brice joined them to run through the second half of the scene. Hermia and Helena were both off stage for several pages, and Tracie pulled Joy over to a nearby bench.
“Thanks for your ideas, they’re really helpful!” she said.
Joy shook her head. “You’re doing really well, especially considering you’ve never acted before.”
“Well, I was a tooth once. In third grade,” Tracie said reassuringly.
Joy, who was never entirely sure when Tracie was being serious, smiled and nodded back.
“How are things going for you?” Tracie asked, staring at her.
“Um, fine.” Joy was a little nonplussed by Tracie’s intensity.
“I was just wondering. I got the sense that you’ve made some big shifts recently.”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess. I think I’m going to put my house on the market, and I’ve got some decisions to make about my job. So … yeah.”
“Hmm … Have you tried flipping a coin?”
Joy tried not to laugh. “… Is that how you make decisions?
“Sometimes. Usually I rely on my talisman. Which is a goat.”