Love Burns

by Babette James

  Hazy memories teased. He remembered the consuming need to comfort her. Then he was holding her, making out, and discovering that scrap of a thong and bare, perfect ass. He thought he remembered her sweet needy sighs, her pulling him to her and kissing him back, long, slow, and deep. He was mostly certain she’d never said stop. His stomach rolled. Thank God, he’d been sober enough to snap to at the elevator’s chime and stop. Thank God, they hadn’t gone too far.

  Too bad he hadn’t been near drunk enough to erase the memory of those scared doe eyes and huge tears slipping over her cheeks.

  He wrenched the shower knob to cold and sputtered under the icy blast. “Shit!”

  Aided by the aspirin and Lloyd’s wisecracks, he got himself shaved, dressed, packed, and downstairs for Nate and Kay’s sendoff lunch, but between the hangover and the wondering what the hell to do or say when he saw Olivia, his appetite had taken a hike.

  Sour guilt and vivid memories of Olivia pressed against him churned in his brain. She had her plate full with her cheating scumbag of a husband, and he’d only made matters worse. Sorry probably wasn’t enough. However, every apology he practiced on the way sounded lame.

  Sorry I was drunk. Sorry I was an ass. Sorry I didn’t smash R.J.’s teeth down his throat for you. Sorry, for everything.

  Memories of that night nine days ago pulsed in his aching head: R.J.’s raised fist, the clear intent in R.J.’s eyes to hit Olivia, Olivia’s stunned fear and heartbroken face, April’s smirking amusement at the chaos she’d instigated. The cold fury and need to defend that had filled Dave as he’d stepped between R.J. and Olivia still left him shaken. It had taken everything in him to not pound the bastard into the sand. If the asshole had even twitched one millimeter, he’d have gone down hard.

  Hell. He fixed a cheery grin on his face and strode into the restaurant. Time to man up and face Olivia, find a way to pull her aside, and apologize. He wouldn’t let his being an ass last night ruin Nate and Kay’s day today.

  No trouble finding everyone. His friends filled three tables, studying the menus and gabbing fast and furious. However, new problem. Two open seats remained. One belonged to Lloyd, and Olivia was missing.

  Nate waved. “There he is. Finally!”

  “Sorry I’m late.” Dave kissed Kay and Nate’s mom hello and shook Nate’s hand. As he offered his hand to Nate’s dad, his shame deepened, like he was once again that smart-ass, screwed-up kid with a mountain of a chip on his shoulder.

  “Olivia’s not joining us for lunch.” Kay spoke to everyone, but her neutral gaze set on Dave as he slid into his seat beside Nate. “Plans changed, and she had to catch an earlier flight. She asked me to say good-bye to you all for her.”

  Guilt twisted its dull knife through his gut again. Did Kay know how badly he’d blown things last night? Olivia’s changed plans might be his fault. He squashed the whacked-out urge to charge off after her. Damn it. Now how was he supposed to properly apologize?

  At least his glib tongue and mental autopilot carried him through the boisterous lunch and impromptu toast. Everyone laughed, so he must have done okay.

  Seeing Nate and Kay’s joy was worth sitting through the raucous conversations rattling his pounding head. Talk about a honeymoon glow. Dave looked from the newlyweds to Nate’s parents. New love to old love. Complete. Yeah, that’s what he wanted someday. Someday, when he could slow down and finally give his all to something besides the job.

  The time came to wave Nate and Kay on their honeymoon jaunt to Idaho and for the other folks to head home. He’d failed to find a discreet way to get Olivia’s cell number or email out of anyone.

  Mr. and Mrs. Quinn were next for departure.

  Nate’s petite mom Ellie hugged Dave tightly. “You’re under orders to join us for Christmas. No excuses. Tommy and I want a full house again, with all our kids.”

  Yes was the only answer. For the first time in years, Nate’s brothers and sister would all be home for Christmas, and the Quinns were the nearest thing to family Dave had anymore.

  Mr. Quinn winked and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m trying a new beer recipe, and there’ll be Ellie’s pies.”

  “How can I say no? Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Mrs. Q’s pies saved my life.”

  People always assumed that was another of his jokes. He was dead serious. He’d never forget how Nate’s folks had given an angry boy a chance, a hand, and hope.

  Plus, spending Christmas alone working at the Dos Arboles made no sense when he could be kicked back eating Mrs. Quinn’s pies and sharing fishing stories over Mr. Quinn’s homemade beers. Only sensible, right?

  “And you don’t have to wait for a holiday to come visit either.” Mrs. Quinn gathered him into a last tight hug. “Be careful and be safe.”

  Dave winked. “Always.”

  A fresh load of shame over what Mrs. Quinn would think of his behavior last night piled in his chest.

  Somehow, he’d make things right.

  ****

  Two taxis, two planes, and too many coffees later, Olivia arrived at her parents’ home in Savannah.

  Festive lights blazed from the windows and porches of their lovingly restored 1902 mansion. Olivia flinched. She’d forgotten Mama’s dinner party. She fought the urge to beg the taxi driver to turn around and slunk along through the humid evening, dragging her bags to the back door.

  Coward.

  She slipped in, only to be caught by Helen, their housekeeper.

  “Miss Olivia! What in heaven’s name are you doing creeping in the kitchen door?” Helen planted her hands on ample hips.

  Olivia smiled weakly. “Hi, Helen. I thought I’d drop in for a visit, but I forgot Mama’s party was tonight. I didn’t want to be a bother.” Nerves and the chill air-conditioning raised a shiver.

  Helen turned to a gawky young man dressed in crisp white and black. “Brian, take Miss Olivia’s bags to her room.” She fixed her attention on Olivia. “Get yourself freshened up while I set another place, and hurry on down. Mr. Paul and Miss Louise have missed you, child. This will just make their day! Now, shoo.”

  Up in her bedroom, Olivia slipped off her shoes and eyed the tempting comfort of her bed. Yes, she was a coward. Coming here was a huge mistake. She should have gone to the Myrtle Beach condo, or even home to Fort Lauderdale, but while buying her tickets at the Las Vegas airport she’d had a panic attack. What if he’d taken April there? Realistically, the condo was R.J.’s least favorite home, and he’d likely stayed in Vegas since he’d always discreetly kept his affairs at hotels.

  Until now.

  Shudders wracked her. Oh, Lord, how could she face everyone? But if she pleaded a headache or other ailment, Helen and Mama would fuss.

  Okay, take a deep breath, freshen up, and you can have a glass of wine.

  She stripped off her clothes, ignoring the impulse to drop them higgledy-piggledy, and properly gathered them into the hamper. After a quick wash, she tended to her makeup, masking the haggard shadows below her eyes.

  Last week she’d asked Kay if she was doing the right thing. Kay’s answer hadn’t helped, but it was the only answer. “I think the right thing is different for each person.”

  She’d grown up doing the right thing. Been a good daughter, a dutiful student, a dedicated nurse, a faithful wife. Only, doing the right thing had led her to a crushed heart and betrayed dreams. She’d carried on her farce of a marriage far too long in the name of futile hope and keeping up appearances.

  Keeping up appearances. That meant tonight, as well. She chose a simple wrap dress she always enjoyed wearing, but the sensuous slide of black silk over her skin reminded her of the pink dress and Dave’s gentle hands. Shuddering from exhaustion and the memory, she exchanged the dress for a summery leaf-green sheath.

  The simple gold hoop earrings she wore suited the dress. Mama would notice her bare ring finger, but she could say she’d left the rings at the jewelers for resizing while she vacationed at the river. Her dress’s loose fit
proved she’d lost more than enough weight to support that lie.

  When R.J. had first announced the Lake Mohave trip, Olivia’s blind optimism had bounded. Yes, the trip combined the usual business with fishing because of the venture he and Lloyd were negotiating, but Lloyd was so genial and the trip seemed a wonderfully different and fun adventure. She’d fought successfully to slip several extra days afterwards into their schedule in hopes R.J. and she would have private time together in Las Vegas to relax and perhaps talk things out.

  So much for hope.

  She added the pink sandals and, after a thorough brushing of her hair, took a final look in the antique cheval mirror. Not too dressy, not too casual. Aside from her exhaustion, perfect.

  You look a mess. You haven’t done a thing with your hair.

  No. She shuddered at the carping echo of R.J.’s voice. She’d wear her hair as she pleased. She turned from the mirror with her hair loose, not even tucked behind an ear.

  Despite her efforts, the Lake Mohave trip had been far from perfect. For the first time, R.J. hadn’t been the starring ringmaster of an event. For the first time in her life, she’d been the one dressed improperly for an occasion. She couldn’t escape into her hostess role. Lloyd was too distracted by his wife’s pregnancy and his friends to focus on business, exacerbating R.J.’s irritation. That tight-knit group of friends couldn’t care less about business, the stock market, golf, or saltwater fishing. They knew how to have fun, relax, and talk about nothing for sheer camaraderie and enjoyment. She’d never felt so lost. Or so envious.

  Okay, time. She’d smile her way through the evening as she’d done time upon time at her own dinner parties. The truth could wait for another day.

  What if R.J. called Mama and Daddy? Why did she feel as if she were the one running away, when R.J. had flagrantly walked out on their marriage?

  Flagrantly had an affair. Affairs.

  Olivia descended the curving front stairs, breathing in the comforting scents of home: roses, lemony polish, and Helen’s savory cooking. Laughter and muddled conversation erupted from the dining room.

  She wanted Mama to tell her everything would be okay. She wanted R.J. to say he was sorry. No—Sorry wasn’t nearly enough. She wanted to turn back the years and the lies and the evasions to the time she believed and trusted him, when he’d sworn he loved her. What had she done wrong other than never be what he wanted?

  Love certainly hadn’t been enough. What if he fought the proceedings? What if she lost everything?

  Lose everything? She’d already lost everything she’d valued.

  She clutched the bannister and dragged in a deep breath. “Don’t you worry yourself.” Warren Dixon’s kind instructions swirled in a tattered blur through her mind. Her marital disaster rested in his competent legal hands.

  Firming her shoulders, she raised her chin and entered the crowded dining room. Her parents’ welcoming smiles equally raised and chilled her spirits. Mama was going to be beside herself and Daddy so…disappointed.

  “Olivia, darling, this is a wonderful surprise.” Her mother gathered her into a delicate hug.

  Daddy touched his usual peck to her cheek. “We’ve missed you, honey. Weren’t you vacationing out west for another week? Where’s R.J.?”

  “He’s—” In a hotel somewhere wrapped around that brainless blonde. Olivia steadied her smile against the aching anger. “He’s tied up with business. My calendar was clear, and I missed you. So…here I am.”

  “Well, I’m thrilled. You know everyone here tonight.” Her mother waved around the room.

  Yes, familiar faces all, including Dixon, who was wading toward her through the crowd. Panic surged. What if Dixon talked to Daddy?

  No, he’d kept her shame a secret ever since she’d turned to him four years ago and failed to follow through on his advice to deal with R.J.’s infidelity. No matter, she’d have to tell Mama and Daddy soon.

  Dixon kissed her hand. “What a pleasure to see you here tonight, Olivia. How was your vacation?” he asked innocently, his voice a soothing rumble. Dixon always reminded her of a dapper polar bear with his thick white hair, lumbering walk, and fondness for white suits and bowties.

  “Very different.” Oh, wasn’t that the truth.

  “Promise me we’ll get together for lunch while you’re visiting. I’ll have Louella clear my schedule for you.” He winked and gave her hand a consoling squeeze.

  “That would be lovely. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Gigi Mason hugged an arm around Olivia, startling her from her rumination. “We’ve missed you visiting, honey. You look gorgeous, as always. So whenever are you and R.J. going to give your Mama a grandbaby?”

  Never. The old unending pain lanced Olivia. R.J. had broken every promise. Joy and hot jealousy for JoAnn and Lloyd over their coming baby tumbled after. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she choked them back. Her mama’s best friend hadn’t meant to be hurtful.

  Olivia smiled prettily and shrugged, seeking the right air of nonchalance to plaster over the deep ache. “Life’s been…hectic. Anyhow, look at Mama and Daddy. They waited until their careers settled to have me. You could say we’re following a family tradition.”

  Gigi laughed. “And your mama always says if she’d known what a perfect girl you’d be, she would have had you ten years earlier. You’ve never given her a moment’s worry. My Cindi, now there’s a reason for my silver hairs.” She patted her sleek salt-and-pepper bob.

  A laugh escaped Olivia. If Gigi had known even half of Cindi’s escapades, she’d have gone stark white years ago. Back in high school, wild-child Cindi had decided her polar opposite Olivia to be the perfect confidant for tales of her pranks and boys of the week. These days, Cindi was a tennis coach and shared her madcap adventures with her Marine captain husband who adored her and their three children.

  Dinner passed in a haze of beautiful food and conversation. She sipped a lovely pinot noir from a crystal goblet, but strangely, she missed her plastic cup of vodka and tonic on the shore of Lake Mohave.

  She fielded flurries of questions about her trip and, to her surprise, sounded as if she’d enjoyed a delightful adventure. She’d spent over a week camping in the July desert and, excepting the troubles with R.J., honestly enjoyed the experience. The lake had called to mind carefree childhood days in Florida at Uncle Jake’s when everything held possibility.

  Amid the heartbreak, she’d experienced good times and made new friends to treasure. How they’d rallied around her at R.J.’s defection and included her in Kay’s wedding meant more to Olivia than she could voice. She missed them all desperately.

  Even Dave Knight. Sort of.

  His dark flippant “Florida” echoed through Olivia’s mind. He never called her Livie as the others did. Heat flooded her. Oh, my heavens, that kiss and everything he’d made her feel. What he’d so easily made her body do.

  He only kissed you because he was drunk.

  Drunk, he’d exposed a tender side beneath that arrogant, grouchy exterior, and loosed a wild side of herself she’d never known existed.

  Sober, he didn’t think much of you.

  No surprise. She didn’t think much of herself these days either. She’d let herself become a discarded decoration.

  Slipping into co-hostess mode with Mama during dessert and coffee let her step further away from reality’s burdens. She carried on with head high through the endless post-dessert chitchat and after-dinner drinks.

  Finally, the last guests wandered home, and her parents settled in the den to watch the weather and have a quiet drink, as they did every evening before bed.

  A pang struck Olivia. Mama’s hair was almost as silver as Daddy’s. Daddy was approaching his eightieth birthday…Choked with loss, present and future, Olivia clutched the Drambuie on the rocks Mama had poured her, unable to settle and join them.

  “I’m going to sit for a bit out back before I head to bed.” Her strained resolve to avoid a cigarette cracked, and she filche
d one from Daddy’s stash. She was undeniably her father’s daughter in their love/hate relationship with that bad habit.

  She kissed them both, swallowing the need to tell them her woes, needing to preserve the fiction a few hours more.

  “Sweet dreams. We’re so glad you’re here, honey.” Mama squeezed Daddy’s hand. Yes, their smiles proved silence was best for tonight.

  In the foyer, she slipped off the pink sandals, set them neatly on the staircase, and walked barefoot over the silky wood floors, through the spic and span kitchen where the dishwasher hummed, and outside to the old comfort of her favorite rocking chair.

  The night air clung heavy as a wet blanket and lightning flickering in the west promised rain. She allowed herself half the cigarette and crushed the remains in the flamingo ashtray Uncle Jake had given Daddy years ago, the sole garish note in the sedate porch decor.

  Swamped with memories, she sipped at the potent honeyed whisky, the chill condensation dripping over her fingers. R.J. had first kissed her by the fountain. She’d held her bridal shower here on this porch. She’d posed for pictures in this garden on their wedding day, brimming with dreams and hope.

  Now her marriage was over.

  R.J.’s publicly cruel act left her stunned. Until Mohave, he’d always been discreet, keeping his public image polished, fooling everyone into believing the fairy-tale façade of their marriage. She’d clung to the illusion. Had he deliberately used April to make this split Olivia’s fault? Why not be honest and simply agree their marriage had been over for years?

  She had no answers.

  Much of that night remained a blur. One moment a quiet night. The next moment she was screaming at R.J. and watching the remains of her heart and marriage shatter. “Why the hell I ever married a frigid bitch like you,” R.J. had shouted as Dave, Lloyd, and the other men had charged into the camp.

  “What the hell is the problem here?” Dave’s low, icy voice cut through the dark. “People are sleeping, damn it.”