He was going to leave her, she realized. She’d thought that on and off for the past few weeks. But for the first time she was a whole lot less worried about living as a single mother with five daughters. Instead she was a woman who had realized too late she had lost the man she really did love. She’d taken him for granted for so long she’d reached the point where the relationship couldn’t be fixed.
Colin didn’t love her and when she finally gathered the strength to look deep inside herself, she had to admit she knew exactly why.
Chapter Eighteen
“HE KNOWS,” ANDI said.
Wade set the pizza box on the floor, then pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “He doesn’t know.”
“The pizza guy knows we just had sex. I could tell.”
“He’s jealous. Now, how can I get you to stop thinking about him?” he asked, and kissed her again.
She stepped into his embrace and raised her mouth to his. Even as he kissed her, he moved his hands against her body, pulling up the oversized T-shirt she’d slipped on so he could touch bare skin.
She was in big trouble. She had to accept the truth of the statement and figure out a way to deal with it. Because the man was a sexual god and she was in danger of having to quit her job so she could join a cult that spent all its time worshipping at the altar of Wade King.
They’d just made love in her small bed in her creaky attic with the cool night air around them. Wade had touched her and stroked her and done things to her body that had sent her spiraling into an orgasm that had fulfilled her on a cellular level. Even now, as his tongue tangled with hers and his fingers explored the curve of her hips and butt, organs were composing sonnets of adoration. Her kidneys had a mad crush on Wade and her pancreas never wanted her dating anyone else.
“We have pizza,” she said, thinking they should probably eat, but not wanting to move away.
“It’ll keep.”
“I should get dressed.”
“You are dressed.”
“I’m wearing a T-shirt. Just a T-shirt. There’s nothing under it.” Wade had pulled on his jeans and shirt, but she had been too dazed by the aftershocks to figure out complicated tasks, like finding her underwear.
“I’m too close to naked to eat dinner,” she told him.
He looked into her eyes. “Let’s test that theory.”
“What?”
He turned her in his arms so she was facing away from him, then slid one hand under her shirt so he could fondle her breasts and eased the other between her legs.
She wanted to protest they were still downstairs and there weren’t any window coverings. Only it was still fairly light outside, so no one could see in. Besides, the feel of his fingers sliding deep inside her as his thumb settled over her still-swollen clitoris made speech impossible.
He’d done this earlier, she thought, closing her eyes and getting lost in the sensual ministrations. Touched her with a certainty that left her breathless. The hand at her breasts knew exactly how to tease her tight, aching nipples such that the nerve endings began to sing. Vibrations rocked her, a perfect pitch of need and arousal, linking her erogenous zones.
Wanting swept through her. She opened her legs more, now shameless and weak with need. Muscles tensed in anticipation as he moved in and out, going faster and faster, his thumb providing a steady, circling pressure that forced her closer and closer until she cried out, shattering in another orgasm.
When the last quiver had faded, he led her to the stairs and settled her on the second from the bottom. Even as he knelt in front of her, kissing her, he was fumbling with his jeans. He handed her a condom. She ripped open the package. They were both shaking as they jointly tried to slide it over his penis.
“You,” she gasped. “You’re the expert.”
He finished, then plunged inside her.
With the very first stroke, she came again. She wrapped her legs around his hips and hung on, wanting, no, needing, more. Sex had never been like this, she thought, crying out her pleasure. This easy, this amazing. This spectacular.
She came over and over until there was nothing left. Wade shuddered and was still. They stayed where they were, both gasping and spent. Slowly he withdrew and stared at her.
He looked as stunned as she felt.
“I think I pulled a muscle in my back,” he admitted.
She straightened her leg, feeling the first twinges of a muscle cramp. “The stairs might have been pushing it.”
He staggered to his feet, then helped her stand. He cleared his throat.
“Is it usually like that for you?” he asked.
“No. I’m pretty boring in bed.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “No, Andi. Boring is not a word I’d use.” He shrugged. “I like sex as much as the next guy, but I have to admit this was a hell of a ride.”
“I guess we have chemistry.”
“That’s one word for it. Be right back.”
He ducked into the downstairs bathroom. She got the pizza and waited for him. When he reappeared, he’d fastened his jeans and his belt. He still looked shell-shocked. It was nice to know he was as rattled as she was.
She led the way upstairs. While she served the pizza, he opened a bottle of wine. “What time do you have to be back?” she asked. “Does Carrie have a sitter, or does she stay on her own?”
Wade handed her a glass of wine. “She’s spending the night with Madison. I don’t have to be home until morning.”
Her girl parts cheered. “Oh. That’s nice.” Instinctively she glanced toward the bedroom.
Wade took the glass from her and set it back on the counter. “My thoughts exactly.”
They reached for each other. By the time they got into the bedroom, they were both naked. The old bed creaked in protest as they tumbled onto the mattress. Andi gave herself over to Wade’s magical touch and prepared to let the man sweep her away.
* * *
As a rule, Deanna loved her house. She owned it—her aunt and uncle had left it to her. More than an inheritance, she considered it something she had earned. When they’d taken her in, they’d made it very clear that she was expected to be the child they had always wanted. That any hint of her being her mother’s daughter was unacceptable.
She’d done her best to be perfect. Be polite and clean, get good grades, cooperate. She’d learned the history of the house. She knew which pieces were antiques and which were reproductions. She understood the importance of always being ready for unexpected company. That how things looked mattered so much more than how they were. The house was her kingdom. Or it had been.
For the first time since she first arrived when she was ten years old, Deanna felt out of place. She felt as if a shameful spotlight followed her, illuminating her humiliation.
She hadn’t slept. Instead she’d made her way back to her bedroom, where she’d locked herself in her bathroom. From the darkest depths of her closet, she’d removed a long-handled scrub brush, then gotten in the shower and used it to scour every inch of her body in a feeble attempt to wash away her shame.
Blood had trickled down the drain and when she had finally stepped out of the water, her body had been covered with open wounds. She’d spent the night in pain. This morning, she’d dressed the worst of the sores. She wore a long-sleeved shirt to cover up the evidence, but even the constant ache wasn’t enough to allow her to forget Colin’s rejection.
She had laid herself bare and he’d turned his back on her. She’d offered all she had and it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t enough.
She never had been—she’d always known she was living on borrowed time. Being with him was like being with her aunt and uncle. She’d been aware that at any moment she could be sent back. But over time, she’d grown comfortable. Complacent. She’d thought being perfect was enough, but it wasn�
�t. And she didn’t know how to be whatever else it was he wanted.
“Mommy?”
Deanna turned and saw Lucy standing in the entrance to the kitchen. For once she didn’t see the ugly glasses or the too-big eyes. She saw the fear in the way her daughter’s mouth trembled slightly.
“What is it?”
“I have the party this afternoon. You remember you said I could go.”
Her heart twisted. She heard her own voice, half begging, half reminding. The silent plea not to change the rules, not to be punished for having the courage to ask. Lucy was the age she had been when her mother finally snapped. That final beating, the one that had caused neighbors to call in authorities, had changed everything. Deanna supposed it had been worth a broken arm and bruised rib to finally be free. At least she’d thought that at the time. Now she wondered if she had ever achieved freedom. If she had simply exchanged one kind of abuse for another.
She managed a shaky smile. “Yes, Lucy. I remember. I’m glad you’re going to the party. I know it’s been hard for you, with your closest friend moving away.”
Emotions paraded across Lucy’s face. Hope, relief, then caution, as if she wasn’t prepared to believe she would get what mattered most without paying a price.
“What time are you supposed to be there?” Deanna asked.
“Three. We’re bowling and there’s dinner.” She flinched as she spoke.
Right, Deanna thought. Because dinner would be pizza and chicken fingers and God knew what other kind of processed food.
“There’d better be cake,” she said. “It’s not really a birthday without cake.”
“And ice cream,” Lucy said with a grin.
“Both are required.” She drew in a breath. “We’ll leave at two-thirty. That’ll give us plenty of time. You can take the emergency cell phone and call me when you’re ready to come home.”
None of the girls had their own phone, but she kept an extra around for trips or events like this.
Lucy nodded. “I’ll be extra careful with it, Mommy. I promise.”
“I know you will.”
Lucy grinned, then flung herself at Deanna. Her bony arms came around and hugged tightly. Pain exploded as she pressed on the open sores and Deanna gasped.
Lucy jumped back. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad.”
Before Deanna could say anything, the girl turned and ran, as if chased by the devil.
Not the devil, Deanna thought. Her mother. In this house, those two people were the same.
* * *
“Emma said she and her mom were going into Seattle next Saturday and she asked me to go and I’m going to ask Dad later.” Lucy barely paused for breath before continuing. “And then we had cake and we had teams for bowling and both Sarah and Emma wanted me on their team.”
Bright blue eyes danced with happiness. Andi impulsively leaned over and hugged the ten-year-old. “I’m so glad you had a good time.”
“Me, too.”
They were in Andi’s tiny makeshift kitchen up in her attic. The windows were open and the sound of soft rain provided background music to a Sunday afternoon of conversation and cookie decoration.
Andi had found already baked sugar cookies at her grocery store. They were part of a kit that included icing and sprinkles. Thinking she might have company in the way of the girls next door, she’d bought the package. She’d also stocked her small refrigerator, done her laundry, scrubbed the bathroom and generally tried to keep herself busy. Because the alternative was to obsess about Wade.
Their night together had been amazing. They’d finally gotten to the cold pizza sometime after eleven. Then they’d gone back to bed and made love until they were both exhausted. She’d spent yesterday tired and sore but happy. Every twinge had been a reminder of a very delicious night.
But this morning, insanity had reared its ugly head as her mind had started with the questions. Why hadn’t he called? Shouldn’t he have called? Was it just about sex? Did he think she was easy? He hadn’t mentioned getting together again, so were they dating or what?
If they weren’t dating, what were they doing? Was it friends with benefits? Did she want more? Did he? He’d been a widower for years. So was he like Matt? Would he string her along for a decade, then dump her and marry someone else two weeks later? And why the hell hadn’t he called?
Lucy had provided a voice different from the one in her head.
“What are your sisters up to today?” Andi asked, hoping to continue the conversation and the distraction it provided.
“Dad took Audrey and the twins out on the duck boat.” Lucy pushed up her glasses. “I like it but I usually get sick.”
“Motion sickness?” Andi asked. “On long car rides and rides at the fair?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s a yucky feeling. I get carsick a little, too. I had it a lot when I was younger. I don’t know if this will help, but you’ll probably get better when you get older. I’m better than I was.”
Lucy smiled at her, then passed over a daisy-shaped cookie she’d decorated. The petals were bright pink and the center was green.
“Beautiful,” Andi told her. “Why don’t we finish these? Then we can take some over to Boston. I know she likes cookies, too.”
“That would be fun.”
“I think so, too.”
And when they left, Andi would deliberately leave her cell phone at home. If Wade wanted to reach her, he knew how. If he wanted to phone, he had her number. She refused to be one of those insane women constantly checking their voice mail or looking for a text message. She was strong. She was mature. She would get through this and everything would be fine.
Chapter Nineteen
ANDI WAS GOING to have to kill someone. She accepted that by doing so, she would have to go to prison, but she wasn’t afraid of the consequences. At least in prison she wouldn’t have to worry about things like men who rocked her world with incredible sex and then didn’t phone.
Men who smiled and looked all hunky in their work clothes, who grabbed her arm and pulled her into a quiet corner and whispered, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” only to get called away for some stupid work issue.
Because that’s what had happened. On Monday afternoon, she’d seen Wade for exactly forty-seven seconds before they’d been interrupted. Then Carrie had walked in with Madison, and that had been the end of any possible private conversation. On Tuesday, Wade hadn’t been there at all. Some end-of-term thing with his daughter.
It was now Wednesday morning, and Andi’s day off because she was working Saturday, and she was honest-to-God going to have to kill someone.
It wasn’t just the phone call, or lack thereof, she admitted to herself. It was the craziness that was growing in her obviously twisted brain. She’d moved from wondering about the status of their relationship to wondering if he loved her or planned to fall in love with her. She was inches from becoming a stalker or worse, although she didn’t know what worse was.
At seven forty-five in the morning, Wade arrived. She watched his big truck park in front of her house, then saw him get out. She realized then she couldn’t just stay in the house all day. She would end up doing or saying something they would both regret. She needed a distraction and very possibly professional help.
She grabbed her purse and headed for the stairs. After briefly waving at Wade, she raced out the front door, then paused. Boston was the more obvious choice. But going to her offered two potential problems. First, she might not be awake yet. Second and more important, she was Wade’s sister-in-law and would probably discuss anything Andi said with him.
Decision made, Andi ran to Deanna’s house. The five girls had already left for summer camp, which meant Deanna should be up and reasonably functional. With luck, she would be
willing to talk Andi off the ledge, while not spreading her issues to the world.
She rang the bell, not once, but twice.
“Are you all right?” Deanna asked as she opened the door.
“No,” Andi admitted. “I’m really not. Do you have a second to talk?”
Deanna looked at her cautiously. “What’s the topic?”
“Man trouble.”
“Good, because I can’t take one more emotional hit. Let me grab my purse. We’ll go get breakfast.”
“Breakfast sounds great.”
Ten minutes later they were seated at a window table at the Blackberry Island Inn. They both ordered coffee and stuffed French toast, and then Deanna raised her eyebrows.
“I’m braced.”
Andi glanced around at the few businesspeople lingering over breakfast and the abundance of tourists planning out their day.
“You thought bringing me here meant I wouldn’t start crying,” Andi told her neighbor. “You think you can control me in a public setting.”
Deanna smiled. “I thought it might help. Very few of us are comfortable making a scene.”
“Good planning.”
“Will it work?”
“I don’t know.” Andi drew in a breath, then leaned forward. “You know Wade King?”
“Sure. His brother, Zeke, is Boston’s husband. They’re the contractors working on your house.”
“Wade’s handling most of the work. He’s funny, charming, sexy and single.”
Deanna waited.
Andi grimaced. “We slept together,” she said in a rush. “Friday night. It was supposed to be a date, but we never got out the door and he spent the night and now I’m going crazy. Seriously. He hasn’t called. We’ve seen each other and he was fine, but I’m not fine. I dated Matt for ten years. That’s a decade. Then he left me at the altar because it was all such a rush. So now I’m finding myself asking questions like, does Wade want to get married? It’s been three days and I can’t stand this.”
“Breathe,” Deanna said. “You have to breathe.”
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