The Art of Going Home (The Art of Living series Book 1)

by Nicole Sorrell

  “We were, uh, you know, making out…” Tabs’s eyes sparkled at my embarrassment, and she almost said something. She seemed to decide to let it go. “He asked me to make love with him.”

  “So? Is that a problem?” she asked.

  “I’m not ready to make love with anyone. You know that. And I told him so,” I said with finality.

  “I know it’s scary, but you need to quit running away. I swear, you’re acting like a coward.” My anger must have shown because she rushed on. “Well, you are. Trusting a man enough to give him a piece of yourself is a hard thing to do. Then again, it’s more than worth it. I don’t think Zac will hurt you. He’s a decent person, though maybe a little conceited. He has a good heart.” She stopped to look me straight in the eye and stated, “You’ve got to take the plunge and go whole hog.”

  “Even if you’re right, I don’t know how a long distance relationship could work,” I countered, falling back on my most logical excuse.

  “Being far apart may be better for you in the beginning. Since you’re gun shy, distance might help you ease into it. Make it less demanding.” I hadn’t thought of it that way. “Besides, you can’t deny you’re attracted to him,” Tabs added.

  “Of course I’m attracted to him. He’s the sexiest man in the universe. I don’t want to get sucked into that vortex of vulnerability. What if the sex is intoxicating, and I can’t live without it? I could become addicted,” I joked.

  “There is something to be said for heart-stopping, mind-numbing, can’t-keep-your-hands-off-each-other sex,” said Tabs. “Having that kind of attraction is essential in my book if you’re going to be with someone for the long haul.”

  “You’ve got a point,” I said.

  ~~~

  As she stopped the car in front of her work, Tabs offered to take me shopping after she finished her shift.

  “Thanks. I’d rather not wait that long. I do appreciate the use of your car,” I said as I walked around to the driver’s side.

  “Sure. It’s not a problem. You can come get me when I get off at five thirty.”

  I had a bigger twinge of shame for lying to her. I quickly put it out of my mind and drove out of the parking lot in the direction of Aunt Ceci’s house. As soon as I was out of sight of the store, I turned toward Winnser.

  Chapter 17

  THE DRIVE WENT FASTER than I’d anticipated along the two-lane country highway. By the time I reached the tiny town, I still hadn’t come up with a good angle to ask Bobby about the day Angeline died. My mind kept going back to the way he’d leered at us after he’d masturbated by the pond as we watched. He knew all along we were there.

  Finding the house was easy enough: the street was short. It was a run-down shabby home with faded white siding and a high front porch. I forced myself out of the car, down the walkway, and up the steps without stopping to think. I half hoped he wouldn’t be home at this time of day.

  I steeled myself and knocked solidly on the door. After what seemed like a year, an extremely handsome man answered. His mesmerizing eyes were more gold than green, and they brightened when he saw me. He leaned against the frame of the doorway, crossing powerful arms that could snap me in two with no effort at all. He was big, standing over six three. Longish medium brown hair with natural blond highlights complimented his tan, probably acquired from outdoor physical labor. His T-shirt strained across his well-defined chest.

  It was Bobby.

  With an easy smile, he angled an eyebrow and let his gaze wander slowly down and up my body. In other circumstances, I might’ve welcomed this kind of attention from such a good looking man.

  “What can I do you for?” he asked.

  I swallowed nervously and found my voice. “I’m looking for Robert Wittford.”

  “You got him, sugar.” He stared at my breasts.

  “I wanted to take a few minutes of your time to ask some questions,” I said breathlessly.

  “For you, sweetness, I got all the time in the world.” He winked. “What’s your name?” His voice was like velvet.

  “Madisen.” It popped out of my mouth before I realized, and I soon regretted the mistake.

  It took a few moments for him to get it. Suddenly, he straightened, and those fascinating eyes darkened in anger. He took a step that brought him so close I could see every one of his long eyelashes.

  “How did you find me?” he demanded. “What are you here for?” His voice became menacing.

  “I’m sorry to bother you. I wondered if you could tell me what happened the day my sister was mur—” The air whooshed out of my lungs as he jerked me to him with such force, I hit his chest. I would’ve bounced off and fallen if he hadn’t had his hands clamped on my arms.

  “Get out! Leave us the hell alone,” he shouted in my face. He thrust me away, and I stumbled backward. I mentally braced for another shove that would send me tumbling down the concrete porch steps and onto the sidewalk.

  “Daddy?” A boy of about six stood just inside the threshold. His expression was shadowed with fear. Bobby froze. He immediately stepped back from me and put his hands in his pockets.

  “Hey, Bubba,” Bobby answered soothingly. When the boy kept his wide eyes fixed on him, Bobby tried to put him at ease. “Uh, this here’s… my friend, Madisen.”

  “Hi there,” I said. “You’re a handsome little man. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Tony,” he said, sticking out his hand. “Very pleased to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is mine,” I replied, shaking it with a smile. “Aren’t you adorable.”

  “Did I do it right, Daddy?” Tony asked, beaming at his father.

  “Yeah, you did a good job,” Bobby replied. “Now go back to your toys, and close the door. Madisen has to get going.” When Tony slammed the door, I stared at the solid wood, wishing I could call out and beg him to come back.

  “You’re a father,” I said, turning back to Bobby. “You can imagine what my parents have suffered, losing a child. Please help them. Answer a couple of questions.”

  “I’m not going to let you drag this up and get my boy taken away from me,” he said, speaking through clenched teeth.

  “I can see you’re a good parent. I clasped my hands together to stop their trembling. “I need to find answers to give my mother some peace. We’ve waited a long time for the truth.” I flinched inwardly at using such blatant manipulation. I was desperate.

  “Listen,” he said, relaxing slightly. “I don’t know anything.”

  “What do you remember about the day my sister died?”

  “Not much.” He blew out a breath. “Me and Dad did what we always done. He cut the grass, and I dug all the dead flowers out of the beds and put in the new ones we bought from the garden center.”

  I didn’t speak, fixing him with a pleading gaze.

  “When we was done,” he continued, shuffling his feet. “Dad told me to load the mower on the trailer and gather up all our stuff. He went to spread the last of the grass clippings under the trees. After everything was loaded, I waited ‘til he came back, and we left.”

  “Did he dump all the grass clippings that day?”

  “Yes,” he said with wary eyes.

  “How long did it take for you to load everything?”

  “About ten minutes,” he said, growing more defensive.

  “How long did you wait for your dad?” I asked. I wanted to keep him talking.

  “I don’t know. Long enough to smoke a cigarette.” Sadness tracked over his face, and he stared into the distance. “He’s gone, you know.”

  “Where does he live now?”

  “He’s dead. Car wreck three years ago,” he said softly. “Dad talked about your sister once when he was drunk. Said it was too bad such a cute little girl like that had to die.” As if he regretted saying so much, his voice became hard. “Now you have to leave.”

  I’d pushed him far enough. I forced myself to walk unhurriedly to the car. Halfway there, I stopped and turned. He stoo
d on the porch, staring angrily after me.

  “Thank you,” I told Bobby. “You have my condolences on the loss of your father.” He didn’t answer, and his grim look remained unchanged. As I continued across the street, I felt the burn of his eyes on my back.

  ~~~

  After buying cleaning gloves, a bottle of bleach, a newspaper, and getting some extra bags, I arrived in plenty of time. I hoped I wouldn’t need anything else.

  At the house, I wrapped newspaper around Aunt Ceci’s delicate wooden jewelry box and the clear glass dove that her husband William had given her as a first-anniversary gift. I put her Bible, boxes of photos, and an art class drawing I’d given her in the bags and put them in the car. Tomorrow, I’d check again for anything else I might want that I could carry back on my return flight to San Antonio.

  I sat down to consider the information I’d gotten from Bobby. He wouldn’t have been by the pond that day. However, his father was close to it for fifteen to twenty minutes right before they left. I supposed it would’ve taken less than five minutes to drown Angeline. Ten to fifteen minutes might have been long enough to rape her. She was much smaller than Wittford. He easily could’ve overpowered her, and her struggles wouldn’t have slowed him down.

  Picturing her being raped made me ill, and I rushed to the bathroom to retch. After gaining control without losing my lunch, I splashed water on my face and strayed back to the living room sofa.

  What if Bobby was lying? There was no way to know for sure. Nevertheless, he did volunteer that his father was dead. Of course, he may have made that up so I would stop my inquiries. He seemed afraid that bringing up his own proximity to Angeline’s murder could get his son taken away. Something about the painful look in his eyes when he talked about his dad made me want to believe he was telling the truth.

  ~~~

  I sat at Zac’s kitchen table with a glass of wine. He was cooking dinner for me that evening after he’d finished his martial arts class and I’d exercised in my room.

  The house he rented was a ranch style on the edge of town. It was about twenty-five years old, red brick on the outside, and boring beige inside, with two bedrooms and one bath. It was a typical bachelor pad. He had a huge flat screen TV, black leather sofa, secondhand coffee table, ancient dinette set, and an old weight bench with weights in the spare room. There was very little else.

  He was making spaghetti. I was thinking about Aunt Ceci’s letter and my conversation with Tabs. I was also admiring his cute rear end. And his broad shoulders. And his muscular thighs.

  I was on a mission. Determined to get to the bottom of his relationship with Elaine, I needed to come up with a way to broach the subject.

  “So,” I began. “You said yesterday after our picnic that I could trust you. That I could tell you anything, right?”

  “That goes without saying,” he said, not looking up. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Does it mean that you’ll be open and honest with me, too?” I asked.

  “Yes.” He responded quickly, with a little less conviction. I let the silence stretch while he fixed our plates and set them on the Formica table. After we ate for a time, he caved. “Is there something you want to talk about?” he asked.

  Finally. He’d taken the bait.

  Chapter 18

  “I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW WHY,” I stated, “out of the thousands of single women living here and in the seven surrounding contiguous counties, you chose to date someone as overbearing, mean-spirited, and downright obnoxious as Elaine Esmeralda Van Horne.”

  “Oh,” he said, swallowing. He wore the proverbial “deer in the headlights” look. I glared at him until he fidgeted in his chair like a schoolboy. “Elaine’s not that bad.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “Okay, maybe she is,” he added. I waited silently as he paused, obviously struggling to come up with a viable defense. “She was interested in me, and I guess she wore me down. I was tired of being alone,” he admitted.

  “Okay,” I said, softening. If anyone knew about loneliness, it was me. “But there are so many other women who are begging to go out with you. Why her?”

  “Believe it or not,” he said scathingly, “there’s no one else begging for a date with me.” I threw him a disbelieving look. “Well, not anyone I’d be interested in seeing. Anyway, Elaine wanted me to go out with her and was persistent. I finally gave in. Any other questions?” He couldn’t hide his irritation.

  Oh, buster, you have no idea. “Yes. Do you like her?”

  “To be honest, no. She is kind of obnoxious.”

  Good answer! “Did you sleep with her?”

  “Madisen! That’s something you don’t even have to ask.” He seemed very offended.

  “Well, you never know,” I replied sheepishly, immensely relieved. “You did admit you were lonely.” We ate for a minute in silence, concentrating on our food. He avoided my gaze.

  “Oh my God!” I banged my fork down on the table. “Zac. You did! I don’t believe this.”

  “Don’t believe what?” He raised his voice, too. “That I was discouraged? Frustrated and fed up with waiting for you? That I gave in when Elaine very willingly offered herself?” He stopped. I thought I heard him counting under his breath.

  Wait. What? “Back up,” I said. “You said that before. That you waited for m—”

  “Of course I was waiting for you.” The anger was gone from his voice. “For years I searched for that special someone. Finally, I realized I wanted a woman who made me feel the way I do when I’m with you. So I kept looking.

  “How stupid was that? If I wanted someone like you, why didn’t I pursue the genuine article? The one and only, truly amazing, exasperating and stubborn, smart, beautifully stunning, make-my-heart-burst-with-happiness, wonderful, you?”

  WOW! I blushed a deep red, and my heart melted. We ate in silence again. I considered what he said, what Tabs had been telling me, Aunt Ceci’s letter. Was it time to try? I had no concept of how it could work, how to act in a relationship or even what one looked like.

  I took a big gulp of wine. Zac looked up when I set the glass down with a clunk because my hands were shaking. I took a deep breath.

  “Um, can I ask one more question?” I ventured tentatively.

  “Go ahead,” he said quickly, looking less than pleased.

  “If I manage, and that’s a pretty big if, to get past the fact that you and Elaine…” I shuddered, unable to say it. “Is your invitation open? I mean, do you still want me?”

  He had me out of the chair so fast I didn’t know what hit me. His kiss was long and intense. It made me dizzy. I liked it. A lot.

  “If it means you’ll be with me,” he said. “I can think of a thousand ways to make you forget that Elaine Van Horne exists.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “Let me show you.”

  ~~~

  Before the alarm went off, I woke up in Zac’s arms.

  We’d talked until very late. I told him how much Derek had hurt me with his abrupt withdrawal from our relationship. We promised we’d always bring up anything that concerned us about one another. He assured me he didn’t want to have sex with me. We would make love, he’d said, and I’d be the one to decide when.

  That huge concession from him put me at ease. I wouldn’t have to do anything before I was ready.

  With his solid body against my back, I basked in a sense of security. Soon, I became all hot and bothered, too. I eased away before I started to rub against him like a cat. His hand moved down, splaying over my lower belly and pulling me back so my rear pressed against his crotch. Oh, what morning glory! I could tell his was excellent, even through the barrier of our jeans. My lust meter cranked up several notches. I wanted to wiggle my ass into him.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he whispered, his lips touching my ear in a light kiss. I shivered from pleasure. Oh, God! Having hot sex with him that very second sounded really, really good. It would also break his heart.
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  “Oh, you’re awake,” I stammered, sitting up and kissing his stubbly cheek. “I’m going to make some coffee.” I fled the bedroom before my self-control abandoned me completely.

  As I measured the grounds and filled the pot with water, I recalled the dream I’d had last night. In it, I’d been standing in the upstairs hall of Father’s house, hearing Angeline talking to him behind the closed door of her bedroom. I remembered it had caught my attention because they were talking about me.

  She’d seemed to be imploring him to leave me out of it. Whatever “it” was. She’d said it would make me cry. “Just me tonight. Not with Maddie. She’ll get upset again, like last time.” At that point, I’d run into my room, shut the door quietly, and hidden in the darkness of my closet.

  It was so familiar, yet I’d never seen it before. The near terror it brought back was very real. Zac put his arms around me from behind, and I jumped.

  “Sorry,” he chuckled. I leaned back against the solid wall of his chest, pulling his arms tighter.

  “You can wrap me up in your arms anytime,” I said. He swept my hair aside with his chin and kissed up my neck to my earlobe. “Especially if you do that,” I added with a groan.

  After a moment, his teasing became unbearable, and I escaped to the bathroom with my coffee. I showered and brushed my teeth with an unopened toothbrush he had on hand. The time I spent drying and styling my hair was going to make him late. I decided to go straight to Aunt Ceci’s house, without stopping at the hotel to change. The downside was I wouldn’t have any fresh panties. I’d have to do without and put them in my purse.

  “One more hug before we go,” he whispered before we stepped out the front door. I sighed in delight as he wrapped me up in his body. His hand wandered down my back and skimmed my rear. He jerked and stepped away, holding me at arm’s length.

  “What?” I asked, disappointed by his hasty retreat.

  “You’re torturing me. You know that, right?” He saw my confusion and added, “I’m not going to get any work done today knowing you’ve got nothing on under those jeans.”