by SJD Peterson
The bus maneuvered the narrow streets of Charleston, South Carolina, and I pushed Hugh’s memory down and tried my best to concentrate on the beauty of the town I’d grown up in—the grand historical homes that lined the road, the manicured lawns and array of colorful blooms—but the stunning beauty of the town wasn’t enough. The painful truth: Hugh was never far from my thoughts.
It seemed not that long ago that the touch of Hugh’s lips and the caress of his hands had branded me in some irrevocable way. Perhaps I resented Hugh for that more than anything else. In spite of Hugh’s emotional distance, he’d been a very good lover. Too good. Could I ever find another man who could compare with Hugh that way? Perhaps I should try. I needed a comparison, or at the very least someone to fuck the memory of Hugh right out of my head.
The bus came to a stop, and I had to force myself to exit with the rest of the passengers. I was tense, my movements jerky, and my ass hurt from so many hours sitting on it. The stench of diesel fuel wafted up around me as I made my way into the station with a messenger bag and one small suitcase. I didn’t plan to stay long. A few days—then back to New York and on with my life.
“Hello, Ben.”
I whirled around toward the unmistakable voice of my ex and glared at him. Why did he have to be here? Couldn’t the bastard have given me at least a little more time to get my shit together before facing him? Apparently not. Because Hugh was standing there, wide smug grin on his all-too-handsome face.
I continued to glare at him for a few heartbeats, then abruptly turned my back on him. Not the most mature thing to do, but I needed a second, dammit. Unfortunately, it did no good. The tension tightened in me like I was an overwound clock. The sensation increased exponentially as I felt Hugh’s gaze boring into me, cranking and cranking that damn clock mechanism. Just when I thought my goddamn head would explode, Hugh came around to stand in front of me. I struggled to present an aloof facade but was sure I failed miserably.
“Hello, Hugh,” I said stiffly. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Hugh smiled wryly. “It’s good to see you too, Ben.”
“Don’t be so condescending. I would think being snobbish is beneath you.”
“It is, and I’m serious, it is good to see you. I never got a chance to say goodbye the last time,” Hugh drawled in that infuriatingly sexy, slow manner of his.
“Still, you managed to leave your message.” I rummaged inside my messenger bag, found the envelope, and thrust it at Hugh. “There. I’m returning your money.” Suddenly I was as furious as I’d been when I’d found it tucked under my coffeepot, like he was leaving payment for services rendered. I was pissed.
Hugh stared at the envelope. “I just wanted to help out. After seeing how you live, it doesn’t—”
I held up a hand. “Just take the goddamn money. I don’t need nor want your handouts.”
Hugh hesitated but then took the envelope without saying another word. The silence stretched out uncomfortably. It only fueled my irritation, and I couldn’t help but throw another jab at Hugh. “If you’re taking time away from the office, Mother must have bribed you to retrieve me like a good little puppy,” I said snidely.
“No, I volunteered to pick you up. I thought we could finally clear the air about a few things,” Hugh said calmly.
Either Hugh was oblivious to my irritation or didn’t care. Of course, that just pissed me off all the more. “I don’t think there is anything to clear up. I’d be okay if we agree to never speak again.”
“Aww, c’mon, Ben, you don’t mean that. Here, let me take that for you.” Hugh took my suitcase before I had a chance to reply. I clenched my jaw to hold back the curse and followed him. While my stride was stiff, Hugh strolled with grace and confidence. My gaze was drawn to his firm ass as it swayed with each step. I tried not to appreciate such a fine backside, but it was impossible. I’d never been able to resist Hugh’s sex appeal. He was tall with broad shoulders, a lean waist, and well-defined muscular legs—all the things I found attractive. Even during the difficult times in our relationship, I couldn’t help but crave Hugh. The physical aspect of our relationship had never been a problem. It was the affection that was lacking. Hugh rarely shared his feelings. Always having to guess and wonder what the man was thinking and feeling was maddening. In the end, I ran. Cowardice, perhaps, but I didn’t really have a choice.
Hugh tossed my suitcase into the back of his SUV, and I slid into the passenger seat and stared straight ahead. A few seconds later, Hugh got us on the road. “It’s a little stuffy in here,” Hugh said and flipped on the air conditioner.
“I think it’s fine.” I shut the air vent on the dash in front of me. Sweat trickled down my spine shortly after, and I grudgingly opened the vent again.
“Why do you have to do that?”
“Do what,” I snapped without turning away from the window.
“Argue with me.”
“I don’t do it all the time.”
“Sure, you do,” Hugh said with a hint of amusement. “We’d go out and you’d insist on being the one to pay the tab. You’d argue with my opinion about a concert, a movie, or a book. You’d argue with me about anything and everything. Hell, I swear you liked to argue just for the sake of arguing.”
I tensed. I’d been so young when I’d fallen in love with Hugh. Young, in love, and at the same time, needing desperately to declare my independence. From the beginning, Hugh’s powerful personality had inspired both fascination and rebellion in me. It made for a volatile combination.
“I remember you enjoyed goading me, just as you’re doing now,” I grumbled.
“Aww, Benny, would I do that?”
I turned my head just long enough to roll my eyes at him before staring back out the window. Benny. Hugh’s private name for me, a name no one else had ever used nor would I have allowed anyone else to. I made an effort to concentrate on the scenery instead of how my stomach fluttered.
The downtown streets behind us, we drove along the water’s edge. A few people were out walking on the beach. Gulls soared effortlessly on the breeze, and the sun glinted off the waves. I tried to enjoy the scene. I’d always loved the ocean, but I couldn’t relax. Hugh had a way of doing that to me.
Before we made it to the Winthrop mansion, Hugh pulled off the main road and down a narrow dirt one. I gritted my teeth. I knew exactly where we were going and what his plans were. We’d spent plenty of time at the abandoned farmhouse, just sitting around talking. The last damn thing I wanted to do was talk to Hugh. Apparently, he had other ideas, because at the end of the drive, he cut the engine. He stared out the window, gripping the steering wheel tightly. His jaw set in a hard line.
The tension within the small space grew until it was almost suffocating. I rolled my neck, but it did little to ease the strain. When I could no longer stand it, I glanced over at Hugh. “If you’re going to talk about the other night, don’t. There is absolutely nothing to say.”
“Look, I agree things got carried away. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“You and me both,” I grumbled.
“I would have told you if you hadn’t run.”
“Hugh,” I warned.
The muscles in his jaw twitched. “Fine. What I meant to discuss with you is your family. Regardless of whether we get back together, what you’re doing to them isn’t right. You can only use me as an excuse for so long.”
“You did not just say that to me!” When Hugh didn’t respond, I narrowed my eyes. “Are you fucking serious? You wanted to lecture me about my family?”
“Wow, is that what you’ve been doing in New York? Improving your vocabulary?”
“Just one of many things I’ve been doing to improve my life.” I didn’t have to justify anything to Hugh.
“Improve your life?” Hugh laughed. “I’ve seen where you’re living. It’s horrible, Benny, and so are the excuses you’re making for not coming home. You’re hurting your family.”
“That�
��s the key word, Hugh. My family and I will deal with my family in my own way.”
“I just don’t want you to stay away from them because you’re mad at me.”
“You!” I laughed without mirth. The sound was strangled by bitterness. “You are such an arrogant bastard. Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, I’m doing this for me?” I threw up my hands in frustration. “Never mind. You never listen, so what’s the point?”
“That’s not true, Benny.”
“Yes, it is. I’ve tried talking to you, tried explaining why I was unhappy and what I needed. It did no good, so I don’t see the point in rehashing it.”
“This is about my job, isn’t it? You always resented how many hours I had to work.”
I shook my head. “Here we go again down the same damn path. I know what Bayard Investments means to you, but the long hours you put in were only a part of our problem.” Those old feelings of hurt bubbled to the surface, as raw as ever. I wanted to scream, to make Hugh listen for once, but knew it would only end in disappointment. Hugh was the typical “macho” man. He had a hard exterior, not allowing anything or anyone to penetrate to the soft parts within him. It had astounded me when I learned how Hugh spoke highly of me to others, but never once did Hugh ever, ever relay those feelings directly to me. He never said he was proud of me, never complimented me. He only said “I love you” when he felt obligated to repeat it.
“Then tell me. Explain the other problems, and let’s work it out,” Hugh said calmly.
That damn calmness turned my hurt into rage. “Stop it! Just fucking stop it, Hugh. You know damn good and well what I’ve told you. You either ignored me or didn’t care enough, so just stop it!”
Hugh stared at me, and I held his gaze unflinchingly. Hugh started to open his mouth, then quickly shut it again. For the briefest second, I thought I saw pain, maybe regret, in Hugh’s dark eyes. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, and the mask of indifference was firmly back in place. “I care very deeply.”
The first thing to pop into my mind was to tell him just where he could shove it. The right words were coming out of Hugh’s mouth, but they sounded flat. Typical, unemotional Hugh. I was wasting my breath. The worst part, I’d let my emotions get the better of me and allowed Hugh to witness how much he could still affect me. “Yes, I’m sure you do,” I finally told him. “You know what I care about at the moment?”
“What’s that?”
“Going to Mother’s, getting a shower, and getting some clean clothes on.” All those hours on a bus left me exhausted and stinky. I wasn’t in the mood to rehash old shit. My head throbbed. As angry as I was, I couldn’t deny the desire that still swirled inside me. The passion reawakened. I still wanted Hugh, still longed for his touch. I hated feeling that way but had no idea how to change it. My only choice was to stay far, far away from Hugh Bayard. “Are you going to take me home, or should I walk?”
I placed my hand on the door handle. Hugh must have realized how serious I was, because he nodded, started the engine, and put the car in gear. I watched out the side window as the old farmhouse disappeared from view. Nostalgia tightened my chest. This used to be our place, somewhere we could come for privacy and shut the world out for a while. Now it was just an empty field and a rundown shack. Nothing more.
Not wanting to stroll in the past any longer, I focused on the present. “I hear you’ve been dating?”
“Do you believe everything you hear?” Hugh countered.
“No, but I believe the photographs I’ve seen in the Charleston Society Times.” I refused to look at Hugh or acknowledge the jealousy that shot through me every time I’d seen a picture of Hugh with his arm around yet another handsome man or woman. Actually, I’d been surprised to discover that the photos of Hugh with a beautiful woman on his arm bothered me the most. I’d always known both men and women attracted Hugh. Perhaps he’d be more likely to find someone willing to play the role he wanted most among the women of Charleston. Hello, nineteen fifties. On the plus side, he wouldn’t have to go through the hassle and expense of adoption or of hiring a surrogate.
I really was losing my mind. Why did I care who Hugh was with? It was over between us. I’d moved on. I was living my life for myself and no one else. And dammit, I was pretty sure if I said it enough times, I’d even start to believe it.
“Does it bother you?” Hugh asked, pulling me from my musings.
“No, not at all. I was merely making conversation.” The lie flowed from me easily. “You certainly didn’t waste any time to get back into the swing of things.”
“Why shouldn’t I? You made it clear you wanted nothing more to do with me. You’re still making that clear, even though you allowed me to share your bed.”
Hugh was taunting me by bringing up my single night of indiscretion. I refused to let him bait me. I wasn’t going to give Hugh the satisfaction of knowing that I knew he got some perverse pleasure out of it even if he wouldn’t admit it. Hugh had always known my weakness, which hadn’t been hard to figure out since it was the man himself. And sitting in that small car with him wasn’t making it any goddamn easier to resist that pull.
Hugh turned off the road and stopped the car in front of the heavy iron gates that guarded my childhood home. He leaned out his window and punched a series of numbers on the security panel. A second later the gates buzzed and swung open.
I frowned at Hugh. “What the hell? I don’t even know the security code anymore.”
Hugh drove through the archway. The gate clanged shut behind us. “Why does it bother you that I’m still on good terms with your family? I’ve known them pretty much my whole life. Just because—”
“Don’t say it,” I warned. “Besides, I’m not saying you shouldn’t get along with my family, only that I don’t understand how you do. Constant meddling in my affairs means Mother and I can’t spend more than a few minutes together before we’re arguing.”
“You should give her another chance. She’s been quite upset since you left.”
“I seriously doubt that,” I said under my breath. Upset she couldn’t control me, maybe.
Hugh stopped the car in front of the house—although perhaps “house” wasn’t precisely the right term for such an ambitious structure. The Winthrop châteauesque mansion had been built in the late 1800s, at a time when my ancestors had harbored a fondness for French Renaissance châteaus, with their steeply pitched roofs, turrets, and sculptural ornamentation. Architecturally, the place was impressive.
Hugh sat with both hands resting on the steering wheel, tapping his thumbs. Funny that I couldn’t wait before to get out of the small confines of the SUV, away from Hugh, but now I couldn’t seem to move. I wasn’t looking forward to an evening that would surely be highlighted by a blowup between Mother and me.
“Ben, is it really so bad coming home?”
“Yes. You know how Mother is. She can’t help but push and push until I end up saying something she will try and use against me.”
“I can go in with you if you’d like,” Hugh offered.
I glanced at him, then shook my head. “It’s better if I do this alone. That way there won’t be any witnesses to where the body is hidden.”
“C’mon, Benny, you know it’s not that bad. She just wants you to be happy. We all do.”
Meaning: as long as I do what they want. “I appreciate your meeting me at the station,” I said stiffly.
“Well, aren’t you just so polite.”
I pursed my lips. “Yeah, well…. This place brings out the worst in me.”
“I suspect you can handle your family. In a way, you handled all of us a year ago. This time just go a little easier on them, huh?”
I turned from him. How like Hugh to align himself firmly on the side of my family. That’s the way it had always been. My entire family plus Hugh lined up against me. I scrambled out of the car. Before Hugh could join me, I made my way around to the back of the SUV and retrieved my luggage.
Hugh s
tuck his head out the window. “You sure you don’t want me to come in with you?”
I shouldered my bag. “Nah, I’m good.”
Hugh gave me a fleeting smile and then rolled up his window. I watched him disappear down the drive, suddenly feeling completely alone. I took a deep breath and turned toward the house. My nerves threatened to take over. My flight-or-fight response went nuts. Funny thing was, or perhaps not so funny, I regretted not allowing Hugh to shield me from what was about to happen. I supposed it was always going to be like that. I was learning just how hard old habits were to kick.
CHAPTER THREE
BENSON HOWARD Winthrop’s stern face stared down at me from its rightful place, front and center above the mantelpiece. I never really knew my grandfather and namesake, but for as long as I could remember, the photo freaked me out. His eyes followed me whenever I was in the ballroom, and I avoided the room like the plague. I disliked the entire fussy room with its hard and uninviting furniture, huge floral arrangements, and gilded bronze statues. Mother knew I hated it, and yet her maid had ushered me in here almost half an hour ago. This was so typical of Mother. She was obviously trying to make a point. I’d left her, ignored her pleas, and she was going to try to make me suffer for my disloyalty. It wasn’t going to work. I had a lot of guilt, but moving to New York City wasn’t one of them. So I sat there twiddling my thumbs and waited for her to make a grand entrance.
At last, the tap of heels sounded in the hall, and Mary Grace Winthrop appeared in the doorway. She smiled graciously, as if I wasn’t her only child but one of her socialite guests. I barely refrained from rolling my eyes. “Benson, my dear. Come give your poor old mother a hug.” Mary Grace looked anything but old, and she damn sure wasn’t poor.
A slender woman of fifty-six, Mother could easily pass for ten years younger. Her hair was dyed a dark auburn red, and her skin was still firm and barely lined, thanks to having Dr. Mack, her plastic surgeon, on speed dial. At times she’d try to come off as frail, but it was nothing more than an act to put others off guard. In reality, she was a shrewd, determined woman.