A Bluewater Bay Collection

by Witt, L. A.

  Ouch, honey.

  “Did you really come all the way out here just to tell me you don’t want to discuss it?”

  She huffed sharply. “I only came because I knew Mom would never let me hear the end of—”

  “Haley.” Jackie sighed. “Your father and I are both trying to smooth things over here. Would it be so difficult for you to meet us at least partway?”

  “Why? None of this is my fault.”

  “Of course it isn’t.” It’s mine. God, I can’t believe what I did to this family. I sat up, folding my arms on the edge of the table and leaning over them. “No one’s blaming you.”

  “Good.” She looked me right in the eye. “As long as we all agree it’s your fault.”

  It didn’t matter how many times she threw that in my face or how right on the money she was. It was going to hurt every single fucking time.

  I took a breath and made myself speak as calmly as possible. “I know it was hard for you two when your mom and I broke up, but—”

  “No, you and Mom didn’t break up,” my daughter spat. “You left, Dad. You. Left.”

  “Haley.” Jackie touched her arm. “It’s not that simple.”

  “So if Dad were straight, you guys still would’ve broken up?”

  “Uh.” Jackie glanced at me, eyebrows up. Help?

  “There’s no way we could answer that,” I said gently. “Yeah, it ended because I’m gay. If I hadn’t been, it could’ve been something else. There’s no way to say what would’ve happened.”

  Haley clenched her jaw and looked out the window again.

  “We didn’t set out for things to happen the way they did.” I was trying to keep my voice even, and overcompensated—the words came out sharper than I intended, making me sound annoyed or impatient. Totally not the effect I wanted, so when I continued, I let the tremor in. “When your mother and I got married, we fully intended—”

  “Who cares?” Her head snapped toward me. “I mean, you left. It’s done. So can we all move on?”

  I swallowed. “I’m still your father. I want—”

  “I don’t care what you want.” She glared at me. “You don’t get to skip out and disappear, and then act like—”

  “Haley!” Jackie snapped.

  “What?” Haley shifted her contempt toward her mother. “Let me guess—I shouldn’t talk to him like that because he’s my father.”

  “Yes, actually. And we’re all here because even if none of us can change the past, we can at least settle things that—”

  “Good luck with that.” Haley got up and stormed off, leaving behind the unopened envelope of photos I’d brought for her.

  “Damn it,” Jackie muttered. “Zach, stay here.” She got up and jogged after Haley.

  Zach and I watched them go and then looked at each other across the table. In no time, the silence started getting unbearable.

  “So, um.” I cleared my throat. “You been studying that driving guide I sent you?”

  Lowering his gaze, he nodded. Silence crept back in, and I didn’t know how to fill it.

  I glanced in the direction Jackie and Haley had gone. This was exactly what I’d been afraid of. Just like last night had been exactly what would happen when I got distracted and let my guard down, today may as well have been some grim prophecy coming to fruition. I knew it would happen. It happened. And I . . . All I could feel was my life—my job, my family, everything—circling the drain at my feet while I watched with no idea how to fix it.

  Zach was still here, though. Maybe not thrilled, maybe not because he wanted to be, but he was here.

  “Listen.” I leaned over my folded arms. “I know this has been rough on you and your sister. And I’m sorry. If there’s anything you want to talk about, you can always call me. And, I mean, I’m here now.”

  He shrugged, still avoiding my eyes. “I know.” He folded his hands in his lap and stared at them. “I guess I just don’t get it. You and Mom were together forever and then you’re suddenly gay.” Lifting his gaze, he asked, “What happened?”

  I moistened my lips. “It . . . it was just something that took me much too long to figure out. When I did figure it out, I didn’t quite know what to do with myself.” Sighing, I rubbed a hand over my face, flinching when my finger brushed my tender cheekbone. “Even after I told your mom, we tried to make it work because we thought staying together would be better for both of you. Our parents were divorced too, remember?”

  He nodded.

  “We didn’t want to put you kids through that.” I swallowed. “But there came a point when I realized your mother deserved better. We had hoped you two were old enough to understand, but . . .” I shook my head. “We tried, Zach. We tried to make it work, and we tried to make it as smooth as possible for you and your sister. I keep wondering how we could have done it differently, but to be honest, I don’t know.”

  “I don’t either,” he muttered.

  I bit back a frustrated sigh. We’d had this conversation a hundred times, and I still didn’t quite understand what he wanted me to do. How I could fix this.

  A moment later, Jackie returned, but Haley wasn’t with her.

  “Is she okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, she’s . . .” She turned to Zach. “You want to go check out that T-shirt shop you were looking at on the way in?”

  He nodded and got up. Beside the table, he paused and then, almost shyly, reached for the envelope I’d brought him. He tucked it beneath his arm. Rocking from his heels to the balls of his feet, he said, “Thanks for the pictures, Dad.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He met my gaze. For a moment, I was tempted to get up and hug him, but I wasn’t sure if that would be welcome. Kids his age weren’t always fond of affectionate gestures from their parents even when they weren’t borderline estranged from them.

  Then Zach offered a slight nod, and turned to go.

  I released my breath as I watched him. The photos were hardly going to win him over and make the past go away, but it was something. A small peace offering that seemed to be accepted for what it was.

  It was a start. Not nearly enough, but a start.

  Beside me, Jackie sighed. As I turned, she rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry about Haley. I’ve talked to her, but—”

  “I know you have.” I touched her hand. “This isn’t your fault.”

  “It’s our fault.” She met my gaze. “Neither of us knew how the divorce would affect them. We tried to make it easier on them, and . . .” Jackie shook her head. “The point is, this is where we are now. And I’m not sure what else we can do.” She paused. “On our own, I mean.”

  I scowled. “We’ll find something.”

  “We’ve been trying to find something. I’m all out of ideas, though.”

  “There’s got to be something.”

  “I wish I knew what.” She gazed in the direction our kids had gone. Turning back to me, she looked exhausted—her shoulders sagged, and the shadows beneath her eyes seemed more pronounced. “My mother tells me this is part of being a teenager, but I don’t remember being quite that angry when I was her age.”

  “Yeah. Neither do I.” Raking my fingers through my hair, I pushed out a breath. “And Zach . . . sometimes he seems like he’s coming around, and sometimes . . .”

  “I think a lot of that depends on his sister. When she’s angry, he gets withdrawn, and . . .” She waved her hand. “And she’s almost always angry, so he’s almost always withdrawn, and there isn’t enough Xanax in the world for me.”

  I grimaced. “God, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Uh, it actually—”

  “Jeremy.” She touched my hand. “Don’t do this to yourself. We’re both to blame. Yes, I know what we divorced over, but how we did it? When? After how many years of being miserable when you know damn well those kids picked up on it?” She shook her head. “I’m as guilty as you are.”

  “Well. At least they’re still
speaking to you.”

  “Give them time.”

  “I will.” I locked eyes with her. “Question is, how much?”

  Jackie didn’t have an answer.

  Neither did I.

  Chapter 17

  By the time the con was over, I’d been given a piece of everyone’s mind. My supervisor. The show runner. Like three different producers. Someone from the venue. Someone a few levels above my supervisor. A few people attached to the show or the security company or—who the hell knew. After the fifth ass-chewing, they all kind of blended together.

  I still had a job when all was said and done, but had no illusions about any future amnesty if something like that happened again.

  The worst part, though, was that bruise on Carter’s forehead. I had one too, but I could deal with it. Every time I looked at him, even when they’d covered up the mark so as not to alarm fans, all I could think of was how much worse the situation could have been. He’d fucked up his ankle too. A mild sprain, from what I’d heard. Though he very carefully tried to keep the injury out of my sight, I couldn’t help noticing him limping slightly when he didn’t realize I was looking.

  At the airport, we’d all been herded into the airline’s VIP lounge, where we waited for our flight to board. Nearly everybody was asleep or close to it. Anna was dozing in a chair a few feet away from me. Carter had sprawled across a sofa. Even Finn kept nodding off in between phone calls.

  Levi, however, was awake.

  And he was coming my way.

  Oh shit.

  If there was anyone on the planet who hadn’t yet said his piece and who would definitely ream me a new one for letting something happen to Carter . . .

  “Hey.” He hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “You got a minute?”

  “Sure. Yeah.” I steeled myself, my gut in knots as I tried to anticipate what was coming next. A million profuse apologies were right on the tip of my tongue, but my mouth was dry and my lungs had turned to lead.

  “Listen, about the other night . . .” Levi shook his head. “I know everyone and their mother is losing their shit at you, but Carter and I wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

  “Me?” I waved a hand at my face. “It’s just a little welt. No big—”

  “That’s not what I meant.” He studied me. “Seems like you’ve been distracted since we got here. Everything okay?”

  I exhaled. “It’s, um . . . I had some personal shit on my mind. I guess I was so worried about that, I completely let my guard down.” My stomach twisted even tighter. “God, I am so sorry, Levi. I wasn’t doing my job that night. I was fucking distracted, and I let someone—”

  “Jeremy.” Levi looked right into my eyes. “It happened. It’s done. Carter’s fine. It was a momentary lapse. We all know damn well you’re good at what you do, and it won’t happen again.” He shrugged. “Alfonse’s let his guard down before too.”

  “Has he?”

  “Yeah. And, same thing—he got back in the game before anything actually happened. You guys are human, you know.”

  “And here I thought you were pissed the other night.”

  “I was at the time.” He waved a hand. “But after I’d cooled down, I realized what had really happened. The most important thing is nobody got hurt. So, you’re good. Don’t sweat it.”

  I chewed the inside of my cheek. “It’s kind of ironic that the people who depend on us for their safety are more forgiving than the people who pay us.”

  “Yeah, well.” Levi smirked. “All they think about is money, and they seem to have this idea that everyone on Wolf’s Landing is a Ming Dynasty vase just waiting to be tipped over.” He rolled his eyes. “We’re all fine. If anyone gives you too much grief, we’ve all”—he gestured at the people sleeping around us—“got your back.”

  I managed a slight smile, though part of me still wondered if anyone else was going to come along and rip me a new one. But I was relieved that Levi hadn’t been the one to do it. That he understood I hadn’t intended to put his fiancé in harm’s way, and that I felt terrible about it. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He clapped my arm gently. “Come on. We should probably wake everyone up. Looks like we’ll be boarding soon.”

  Thank God. I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of this town.

  * * *

  Between two flights, a short layover, and a long-ass drive from Sea-Tac to Bluewater Bay, Anna and I made it to her doorstep at a little past nine that evening.

  We hadn’t even stepped out of the car before Leigh was on her way down the porch steps. I braced, hoping she wasn’t about to lose her shit at Anna about something, but then her face came into view in the porch lights, and she was grinning.

  “Hey, you!” She hugged Anna. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you too,” Anna said. They shared a longer kiss than I’d seen in recent memory. Good for them—they needed this after the last few turbulent months. The conventions actually seemed to do them some good. Spending a few days apart usually meant at least a week or so of getting along. Maybe the brief separation was enough to remind them why they kept fighting to keep their relationship alive. My fingers were certainly crossed that it continued.

  I cleared my throat as I pulled her bags from the trunk. “Do you need a hand with any of this?”

  “No,” Leigh said. “We’ve got it.”

  “You sure?”

  “We’re fine.” Anna turned around and hugged me. “Go home and get some rest, okay?”

  “Will do. See you tomorrow.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  While they dragged her luggage into the house, I climbed back into the car.

  Go home and get some rest? Yeah, right.

  I had somewhere else I needed to be first.

  * * *

  Scott opened his door and grinned, but then his eyes widened and went right to my cheek, and the smile fell. “Holy shit. What happened to—”

  “It’s nothing.” I absently touched the bruise, which was still tender but not enough to make my eyes water anymore. As he let me in and closed the door, I added, “It looks a lot worse than it is.”

  Scott had lost a little color. “What happened, though?”

  I waved my hand. “A little scuffle at the con. Nothing to write home about.”

  His eyes stayed wide. “But—”

  “I mean it.” I wrapped an arm around his waist. “It really does look worse than it is.”

  “But, I mean—”

  “Relax.” I smiled. “Somebody wanted to get closer to the actors than he should have, and I caught an elbow.” Because he picked a moment when I was mentally elsewhere. “It’s no big deal.”

  Scott studied me. “When did it happen? You didn’t . . . you didn’t say anything.” His eyes flicked toward the bruise, which had already begun to fade a little. When I’d looked at it earlier, it had been ringed by the earliest incriminating halo of yellow-green—the telltale sign of a bruise that hadn’t happened yesterday.

  “Look, I . . .” I cleared my throat. “I didn’t want to worry you. If I’d told you while I was still there, you would’ve been freaked out over the rest of the con, and probably imagining something a hell of a lot worse than . . .” I gestured at my cheek. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t . . . I didn’t want you losing any sleep over it.”

  He was quiet for a long moment. Finally, he swallowed, then he released his breath. “How did things go with the kids?”

  I cringed inwardly. So much for spending some time unwinding. “It, um . . . it didn’t go well.”

  He winced and gestured for me to come all the way in. As he shut the door behind us, he asked, “Have you thought any more about doing some counseling with—”

  “No.”

  Scott faced me and drew back a little, forehead creasing. “Why not?”

  “I told you. We tried it for our marriage. And all it did was drag things out a lot longer than they should have been.”


  “This isn’t the same as a faltering relationship, though,” he said softly. “The relationship between you and your wife is over. Now you’re picking up the pieces. Resolving it, not trying to save it.”

  “I’m trying to save my relationship with my kids.” I scowled. “And I’m pretty sure a counselor could easily drag it out for years even though nothing’s changing.”

  Scott’s lips pulled tight, and my stomach knotted.

  I exhaled. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to imply . . . I mean, you’re not a scam artist.”

  “Neither are most people in my profession,” he said flatly.

  “No, I suppose they aren’t.” I shifted uncomfortably. “But my only experiences with counseling are the quack who didn’t do a damned thing for my marriage and watching Anna and Leigh go in circles over theirs.”

  “That doesn’t mean counselors are quacks, Jeremy. I’ve known Dr. Vincent for years. He knows what he’s doing. He can’t just go in and magically fix everything, though. People like him—and people like me—are there to facilitate communication and help patients unpack their issues effectively.” Shaking his head, he added, “The rest is up to them.”

  “We’re fine on our own. I just need . . .” I rubbed the back of my neck, surprised—and yet not—by how tight the muscles were. “I don’t know what I need. All I know is, I need to shut everything off for a while.”

  “I think I can help with that.” He pushed my hands away from my neck. I expected his to take their place, but instead, he wrapped his arms around me, and his lips brushed beneath my ear. “We should go in the bedroom.”

  “Yeah. I like the sound of that.”

  * * *

  After a shower, we collapsed together and just lay there for a while, bodies relaxed and skin drying. Sex with Scott always seemed to shake out whatever was on my mind, and tonight was no exception.

  Unfortunately, once we’d finished, the thoughts started creeping back in. Now that the afterglow was cooling, and neither of us were out of breath anymore, my muscles started knotting again. My stomach twisted. I was in Bluewater Bay, in Scott’s bed, and my brain kept going right back to Vegas.