Romance Redefined

by SJD Peterson

  “I will not give up my home. I won’t marry Charles. I won’t marry a man who can’t understand how I feel.” With that, she got up and hurried out of the room.

  I started to go after her, but Hugh grabbed my arm. “Let her have some time to herself. She needs to think it over.”

  I looked at Hugh’s hand, then met his gaze. “Well, no one can ever change her mind once she’s decided on something. All she wanted from either one of us was confirmation, and we wouldn’t give it to her. The big surprise, though, is that you actually agreed with me, Hugh. What gives?”

  “I don’t see what the surprise is. It’s not like I ever purposely disagreed with you. I do have my own opinions.”

  “They just always conflicted with mine,” I muttered.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing.”

  I took in the room around me. Much of the decor in the house dated back to previous generations of Winthrops. Mary Grace herself had changed only a few details here and there, content to let her husband’s family set the tone. How could this house be so important to her when she hadn’t truly created it?

  “Guess I won’t have to bring you up to speed on the wedding rehearsal. How did your emergency go?”

  “Just a mix-up at the office. I got it under control. But I seriously doubt you care to hear the details. You never liked me to talk about work.”

  “Hugh, can’t we just make a little polite conversation?”

  “Okay, let’s give it a try. Everything went as well as can be expected when you’re dealing with the eccentricities of a mainframe computer. Anyway, I got the system back online. An updated version is being installed as we speak.” He tapped a finger against his chin, then snapped them. “Oh, and I took my office manager out to dinner. I believe you met her once or twice—Michelle Patterson.”

  “I hope you had a good time,” I said without sincerity.

  Hugh frowned. “It was a fine evening. Just fine.”

  “I’m happy for you.” I was still on automatic, saying words I didn’t mean in the least. But Hugh knew me.

  “Come off it, Ben. I can guess how I’d feel if you told me you’d gone to dinner with someone else and you’d had a good time. I wouldn’t like it.”

  “So then you’re simply telling me about your date to try to irritate me. Which, if you ask me, is so high school-ish. You know what, it doesn’t matter. We’re not together anymore. You can do whatever you want,” I reminded him.

  “You’re right, I can, and so can you. But tell me this, why hasn’t either one of us become seriously involved with someone else?”

  I stared at him with exasperation. “What makes you so certain I’m not involved with anyone?”

  “If you were seeing someone, you wouldn’t have gone to bed with me last week.”

  Goddammit! Why did Hugh have to keep bringing up my lapse in good sense? “Listen, you can speculate all you like, but it’s none of your damn business.”

  “You’re not seeing anyone,” Hugh stated with conviction “And for the past year, I’ve made sure not to become serious about anyone I’ve met. Why do you think that is?”

  So much for polite conversation. I found Hugh’s train of thought to be fascinating and perplexing all at once. “It has only been a year,” I pointed out acidly. “Give yourself more time. You’re bound to meet up with the right man or woman, someone who can give you a home and children. Someone who doesn’t mind putting your needs first.”

  Hugh stepped closer to me, still frowning. I could feel the rhythm of his pulse, a relentless beat to remind me how readily my body could respond to Hugh.

  “We weren’t good together,” I said, in a low voice. “Even more, we weren’t good for each other. But somehow, in spite of that, we always had one thing going for us. We were very good in bed.”

  “It seems we still are,” Hugh murmured in a husky, seductive tone.

  “Yes, we still are,” I admitted reluctantly. “But we need to forget about it and get on with our lives.”

  “That’s your solution? We pretend nothing happened a week ago?”

  “Works for me. I plan on returning to New York and not seeing you anymore.”

  Hugh looked dissatisfied and paced across the room to the piano that no one played anymore. He plunked two fingers down on the keys. “Avoiding each other is not good enough,” he muttered. “There has to be a better way. Believe me, I want to get you out of my system. I’d like to go on to something else… someone else.”

  “Someone like Michelle Patterson,” I suggested.

  “I’d be a damn fool to take up with Michelle. She works for me, and she’s just getting over her own divorce. But someone like her…. Hell, yes, she’s probably the kind of person I should be looking for.”

  I found myself compelled by a perverse curiosity. “You make her sound different than those women who end up with you in the society pages.”

  Hugh shrugged. “She’s very intelligent and comes from a prominent family.” He smiled faintly. “Yet she’s the type who prefers taco carryout, hockey games, and spending time with her son.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Congratulations. Sounds like a match made in heaven.”

  “You’re laying it on a little thick, Ben. All I did was take the woman to dinner.”

  “And you made sure to tell me about it,” I countered.

  Hugh shrugged, an unapologetic expression on his face “Maybe I thought telling you would serve some obscure purpose.”

  “Maybe you just wanted me to be jealous. Or maybe you just wanted to make some official announcement that you’re looking to replace me. Someone who can win your approval the way I never could. Someone who loves your damn company as much as you do. Someone who will submit to you and your whims. Someone whose whole life is built around your dreams.” At last I managed to clamp my mouth shut. I’d said too much, revealed too much. I knew it by the way Hugh came over to me and took both my hands in his.

  “That’s unfair. I never asked nor wanted you to spend your life trying to please me. I wanted us to build a life together.”

  “No, Hugh, you didn’t want to build our life. You wanted to build your life. I was supposed to fall in line and follow your dreams without question. You never asked about my dreams. Never asked what I wanted, what would make me happy.”

  “It kills me that I couldn’t make you happy, but I definitely never wanted you to ‘fall in line,’ as you put it. Part of the reason I love you is because of how feisty you are.” Hugh slid his arm around me and pulled me close.

  I raised my gaze slowly to his. “Maybe at one time you did, but oftentimes the things we like about someone when we first meet them become the things we despise as time goes on. I think that’s what happened with us.”

  “There is nothing I hate about you, Benny. I could never despise you.” He bent his head toward mine, pausing with our lips inches apart. My mind and heart went to battle, one telling me to stop this, to take a step back and remember why this was a really bad idea; the other aching to feel Hugh’s lips against mine, to have his arms around me, his body against mine. I couldn’t move, could barely breathe as my heart overpowered my mind.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  HUGH RAISED his head and stepped back. He observed me with that disconcerting intensity of his—disconcerting because I never quite knew what lay behind it.

  “Come with me tonight, Ben.”

  I crossed my arms, dismayed to find myself so shaken. Hugh hadn’t even kissed me and I was trembling? Christ, I was a basket case. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Just come with me.” Hugh took my hand and brought it to his mouth. He gently kissed my knuckles, holding my gaze. “Please, Benny. Come with me.”

  I knew I ought to refuse him, but the battle within me was still raging. I didn’t know how to give my mind an edge over my heart. When it came to Hugh, my heart always won. Against all my better judgment, I allowed Hugh to lead me out to his car, and soon we drove through t
he gates and headed out onto the winding ocean road.

  “What kind of adventure are you planning?” I asked.

  “What makes you so sure I’m taking you on an adventure?”

  “Sometimes I think everything you do turns into an adventure.” Hugh could turn even the most ordinary of endeavors into something special and memorable, and living away from him was like celebrating the Fourth of July without fireworks. The job got done, but the sparks were missing.

  “Why do you look so perturbed, Benny?”

  “It’s nothing. And I really wish you’d stop calling me that.”

  Hugh just kept driving without saying a word. As the landscape flew by, I began to suspect where he was taking me. I curled my fingers into the outer seam of my pants, my body tense. Hugh made a turnoff, and I knew for sure.

  “Why did you bring me here?” I asked. My voice cracked with the swell of unwanted memories.

  I sat gazing out the windshield. All I could do was stare at the beach house where so much of my life with Hugh had taken place—some of it joyful, a lot of it painful. This was the house where I had first made love with Hugh. This was also the house where I’d told him it was over.

  It was a cozy sort of place, built of weathered, silvery wood, etched and decorated by the salty air. It reminded me of a cabin I’d seen in the woods in Tennessee, warm and inviting in its primitive charm. Only, the ocean stretched beyond rather than mountains and lakes.

  “Why are we here?” I asked him again.

  “I’m not sure. It’s not something I planned. It was just….” Hugh cut the engine and swung open his door. “We might as well go inside.”

  “No.”

  Hugh came around to my side of the car and opened the door. I stayed where I was.

  “Can you please just come inside for a moment?”

  I closed my eyes briefly and then climbed out to stand beside him. The air was humid, clinging to my skin, and the breeze whipped strands of hair against my forehead. Every bit of common sense told me not to go into the house with Hugh. Hugh turned, climbed the porch steps to unlock the door. After a second or two, I followed, listening to none of the warnings that clamored inside me. It wasn’t my past with Hugh I feared; it was the here and now, very much in the present.

  Hugh switched on the lights. I stood in the living room, taking in the place. It had been a year, yet it looked as if I’d just stepped out yesterday. Nothing had changed. The rustic leather sofa and love seat I’d discovered at an estate sale dominated the room. The pillows on it I’d made from fabric I’d found at a thrift shop. The shelves I’d built out of reclaimed wood were stacked with my favorite books.

  “It looks the same as the last time I was here,” I said in surprise. “I would have thought you’d have decorated it to suit your taste.”

  “Why would I change it? You always made this place seem… cozy. I liked that feeling. I still do.”

  I didn’t answer. The first time I’d been here, the beach house was being used as a weekend getaway. I had fallen in love with the simple charm and envisioned it as more of a home. I’d also naively imagined Hugh and myself strolling together hand in hand through antique and furniture stores, choosing items that would reflect both our tastes. Hugh had never enjoyed such activities. I had ended up decorating the beach house myself. It had been an engrossing, enjoyable pursuit, but when I’d finished with the job, I experienced a letdown. In spite of the imprint I’d left on the place, it hadn’t seemed like a shared home. It still felt like his place and I had merely put a bow on.

  I turned around and a photograph crammed on the back of a shelf caught my eye: a framed snapshot showing me and Hugh on the sailboat we’d chartered when we’d vacationed on Martha’s Vineyard.

  I picked up the photo and studied it. Hugh had his arm around me, and we were laughing at something. We both looked happy. And Hugh… Hugh looked stunning, his hair whipping in the breeze across his handsome face.

  “Can I offer you something to drink?”

  I fumbled with the photo, nearly dropping it. Thankfully I caught it just in time, and I set it back on the shelf, then turned to face Hugh. “No, thank you. The last time I accepted an invite to drink….” I left the statement hanging.

  “Relax,” Hugh said. “I’m not trying to seduce you. That’s not why I brought you.”

  “Why did you, then?”

  Hugh looked reflective. “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to see if you still fit here.”

  I gave a mirthless laugh. “You make me sound like a piece of the furniture.”

  “If by that you mean you belong here, then I agree,” Hugh murmured.

  “I don’t.” I heard the shakiness in my voice. “Not anymore.” I stabbed my thumb over my shoulder. “Why do you still have that? I would have thought you’d have gotten rid of it.”

  Hugh’s brow dipped as he shifted to look in the direction I’d indicated. “Gotten rid of what?”

  “That photo of us.”

  Hugh stepped over to the shelf and picked up the photo. He smiled fondly. “Why would I do that? It’s a great picture of us.”

  “I’d think it would be hard to explain to prospective dates.”

  Hugh tilted my chin up with one finger and studied me thoughtfully. “You’re the only one I’ve brought home.”

  I was ridiculously happy that Hugh hadn’t shared this place with anyone but me. It was special, our place. At least for the moment. I held Hugh’s gaze, my throat dry with emotion, unable to speak.

  Hugh kept on touching me and looking at me. He then bent his head and brushed his lips over mine. Once, and then again, Hugh tantalized me with just the briefest touch of his mouth. I closed my eyes, welcoming him.

  Hugh brought his arms around me, pulled me close, and deepened the kiss. All the warning bells inside me went off once again. We had to stop now. Only a kiss. If we stopped, it wouldn’t be too late. Even as the thoughts were flittering through my mind, I brought my arms around Hugh. I moved even closer to him. I wanted him. I needed to feel him pressed against me, touching me, consequences be damned.

  We began to move toward the bedroom, one step at a time. Still kissing, hands roaming, we bumped against the wall. One last warning echoed faintly in my head. Don’t do this. Run! I didn’t listen. I was beyond listening. We made it through the door of the bedroom and onto the bed. Hugh tangled his hands in my hair, and I arched my neck as his warm lips pressed to my throat. A tingling sensation raced down my body. My cock was achingly hard.

  I tugged at Hugh shirt, fumbled with buttons, impatient with the fabric that kept Hugh’s skin from me. Hugh, obviously aware of my frustration, lifted himself up a little and undid just enough buttons so he could pull the offending garment over his head and throw it behind him. I ran my hands through the dark swirl of hair on his chest, then tweaked each nipple until they were erect.

  I leaned up and took one hard nub into my mouth, teased it with tongue and teeth, and pulled a long rumbling moan from Hugh. With a satisfied smile, I gave the other nipple the same treatment. Hugh interrupted the teasing by yanking my shirt off and tossing it to the floor. He winked at me—a challenge I accepted with relish. Frantically, we unzipped our pants and popped the rest of the buttons, clothes and shoes falling away until at last there were no more barriers between us. I wrapped my body around Hugh, begging without words.

  Now that we were naked, my body screaming for release, Hugh slowed things down. He refused to hurry. “I want to look at you,” he murmured. He reached over to turn on the bedside lamp, and light cascaded over us. He sat back on his calves; his eyes filled with lust as he took in my body. His long thick cock was straining, bobbing with each breath he took. My mouth watered. I wanted to taste him, but I knew Hugh. He would make me wait. This was the one aspect of my life where I willingly gave over complete control.

  Hugh leaned down and brushed his cheek across my chest; the dark stubble tickled. I squirmed beneath him. My amused response turned into a moan of
approval when Hugh took one stiff nipple into his mouth—a spark of pain as his bit down on the nub. Then he eased the sting with his tongue. As he continued his assault on my chest, he slid his hand down my stomach, grasped my cock, and stroked it with long, firm pulls. He was slow and deliberate in his movements, building the desire within me until the pleasure was so keen it bordered on pain.

  “Hugh, please.” I clutched his shoulders, thrust my hips.

  He wasted no time rolling on a condom. He poured a small amount of lube into his palm then wrapped it around my cock stroking it with slow, gentle pulls, not enough to push me over the edge but to keep me teetering on it. I bit my lip to keep from begging. It would only fuel Hugh to tease me further. He loved to hear me beg knowing I would only do so when I was ready to explode. It had always been his favorite game and, I had to admit, one of mine as well—even if it was beyond maddening.

  One slick finger, then two readied my body for him. Hugh pulled his fingers free, then grasped his cock and guided it to my opening. He held my gaze as he slowly entered me. I gasped at the burn, but Hugh kept pushing slowly forward, kept watching me until he was deep within my body. His thrusts started out painstakingly slow, in sharp contrast to my hammering pulse. Sweat bloomed on my flesh. Our bodies easily slid against each other, moving in perfect harmony. The pleasure built to a feverish pitch until I couldn’t stand it a second longer.

  “So close, please, Hugh,” I groaned.

  It was the cue Hugh was waiting for. He lifted my legs, nearly bent me in half, pounded into me. “Come for me, Benny.”

  I arched my back, muscles bowstring tight for a second. One last hard thrust from Hugh and I was shoved over the edge. I clutched at him and pulled him over with me as we both gave in to the demands of our bodies.

  Hugh collapsed on top of me. I let my legs fall to the mattress, wrapped my arms around him, and held him as we came down from the high.

  Once the passion cooled, I sensed the subtle shift in Hugh as he closed himself off from me. He didn’t turn his back on me. He rolled onto his side and lay there next me, one arm draped across my body. But I could sense him shutting down nonetheless. I could see it in the way he seemed to look past me, not directly into my eyes. That was the amazing thing. In the most intimate moments of lovemaking, Hugh often gazed at me, inside me, it seemed. But afterward… afterward, Hugh always gazed past me, exactly as he was doing now. It made me feel as if I’d just gone to bed with a stranger.