by Mari Carr
“Of course it is. I’m the one who suggested this place to begin with.”
“Well,” she started, clearing her throat to try and dislodge the words that were stuck there. “If you left now, you could be back in the city by early evening.”
“Now?” he repeated slowly. “I wasn’t really in a hurry to be on my way.”
“Yes, but you aren’t stuck anymore. I know you don’t like to be out of the office so long. And besides,” she continued before she lost her nerve, “I really need to get going on this book. It’s hard to work with you constantly underfoot and even you have to admit no one’s ever researched a book so thoroughly!” Forcing a light laugh, she turned back toward the cabin, anxious to escape his scrutiny.
“I didn’t realize I’d been an annoyance to you,” he said shortly. “You’ve been working steadily on the book for a week.” He followed her into the house, slamming the door behind him.
Jerking at the crashing of the door, Julia twirled to face him. “Actually, I haven’t even really started the book. I’ve just been making notes. It’s too hard to concentrate with you here.” She knew her tone was slightly hostile, but perhaps picking a fight would be the simplest way to get him to leave.
“Just notes?” he asked incredulously. “Pretty intense note-taking.”
He was obviously angry, but Julia refused to back down. Truth was that for the entire week, she’d done nothing but record every blissful moment of their lovemaking. She didn’t have a plot, well-developed characters or even dialogue.
Instead, all she had was a steady stream of consciousness, a mish-mash of feelings and thoughts, a disaster of an erotic diary that wouldn’t sell a single copy because she would never let it see the light of day.
So far, she was batting zero as an erotic writer. Not that Ross knew that of course. He thought she’d been diligently plying her craft since her arrival in West Virginia.
“Why don’t we have something to eat?” Ross said, placing his hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the kitchen. Why wasn’t he fighting with her? She was being rude and she knew it.
“I’m not hungry.” She casually shrugged off his hand and crossed the room. Time to up the ante.
“Would you like some help packing?” she asked, picking up his duffel bag from the corner.
At the sight of his frown, she turned her back to him, gathering up his clothing.
“I didn’t realize you were so anxious for me to leave.”
“I wouldn’t say anxious, Ross,” she said with forced lightness, refusing to look at him. “It’s just, you must admit, I haven’t been getting much work done. I came here to write this book at your request.”
“And I’ve been hindering you in that?” Ross barked. “Last I checked, I was helping you.”
“With the research, yes, but let’s face it, Ross, I’d say we’ve covered more than enough ground. I can safely say I have enough information to write the damn thing.”
“Damn thing?” Ross yelled. “Well excuse me for forcing such an unwanted subject on you! I thought you wanted to write the book. I had no idea you were merely humoring me and suffering for the sake of your career!”
“Dammit, Ross. Why are you putting words into my mouth? You know perfectly well that I liked—” She paused, unsure what to call their actions. If she said making love, surely he would laugh. However, it wasn’t in her to refer to their time between the sheets as merely fucking, even though that’s what Ross had called it the first night they were together.
“Researching,” Ross replied through gritted teeth. “That’s all it was to you, wasn’t it?”
Julia didn’t know how to respond. Research was his word and their sexual experimentation was his idea.
Surely he didn’t mean for it to mean more than that.
Perhaps it wasn’t her casualness that was offending him.
In past relationships, she’d listened as he complained about the fits of temper his jilted lovers displayed when he broke things off.
Could it possibly be that the King of Casual Sex wasn’t happy about her lack of emotion?
What did he want?
To have her clinging to his legs, begging him to stay?
A watering pot?
A total breakdown?
Could he be that arrogant?
To want some big display of dashed love?
Was he angry she was beating him to the punch?
“Of course that’s all it was,” she answered evenly, refusing to swallow her pride and give him his show.
“Fucking research!” Ross grabbed his duffel from her hands and threw it across the room. “This is great,” he yelled, fury written in every part of his body. “What have I done?”
“Ross,” Julia said quietly, hoping to calm him down. “If this is about last night—”
“What about last night?” he asked.
“I know I asked you not to leave me, but Ross, you know how things are in the heat of the moment. I didn’t mean it literally.”
“What the hell are you saying?” He closed the distance between them until they were standing toe to toe.
Julia held her ground, refusing to take a step back even though her mind was screaming for her to retreat. Why was he so angry?
“I just wanted you to stay inside me. I didn’t mean I wanted you to stay with me forever.”
“I see,” he said through gritted teeth, “and now you want me to leave.”
Shaking his head, Ross walked to the end of the bed and sank down heavily, elbows to knees, holding his head. “Why?” he asked.
“Why?” she repeated, confused by his question.
“Why the about-face? Last night you begged me not to leave you and today you’re begging me to go.”
“I wouldn’t say I was begging last night.” Once again, she struggled to appear casual. She couldn’t let him see how much his leaving would hurt.
“What’s wrong, Jules? Did you make a mistake, get a little too close to the fire? Did that block of ice you call a heart start to thaw?”
His comments hit her like a punch to the stomach. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Can you honestly stand there, look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me?”
“Love you?” Her hands trembled and she was uncertain what response he wanted from her. Surely he didn’t want those words from her and God help her if Ross ever professed to feel love for her. She simply couldn’t handle that.
Love was not a forever thing for him.
“Don’t be silly, Ross. You know how it is.” She laughed and silently hoped it sounded lighthearted. He was far too angry and intense. She needed him to calm down. “We’d just had mind-blowing sex. Of course I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Didn’t mean anything by it? That’s great. Just great. Talk about turnabout is fair play.” Ross dragged his hands through his hair as Julia struggled to hear his next words. “Christ, the first time I give my heart and soul to a woman and she thinks it’s all a fucking game.”
“Heart and soul?” Julia whispered. What the hell is he talking about?
“After everything we’ve done together, shared with each other, you still don’t get it, do you?”
She shook her head slowly as her knees began to tremble. Afraid they would buckle, she glanced behind her for a chair. He was the one who’d called it research. Led her to believe they were indulging in casual sex. Everything he’d done had been done to instruct her so she could write the book. Right?
“How can you not know how I feel about you?” He rose and gripped her upper arms. “Every time I look at you, I see my past, present and future. All I want in the world is wrapped up in you, Jules. I love you. Dammit, I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Horrified, Julia broke free of his grasp. “What? What the hell are you talking about?”
Glancing around, she was amazed by how the spacious room suddenly felt stifling, as if it were shrinkin
g. All she could feel was Ross’s gaze burning into her, his words still stinging her ears. She felt hot and dizzy and perilously close to passing out.
He loved her? Yeah, right. Nervous laughter erupted from her lips before she could call it back.
“You think this is funny?” Ross whispered, his face pale, his voice strained. “I bare my heart to you and you think it’s a joke?”
Julia fought to restrain the hysterical laughter bubbling up inside her. Never had she felt so afraid, so confused. Stark terror raced through her veins. She knew she should get herself under control, try to talk to him, but all that came out was uncontrollable laughter, ringing out in cackling peals until she was gasping for breath, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Oh my God. I’m having a breakdown.
What if what he said was true?
What if he did love her?
How could she trust he would never leave her?
Because that was the one thing she could never survive—losing him.
Before she could maintain her composure and try to explain, Ross turned away from her, his tone suddenly devoid of emotion. “I can see I’ve made a mistake. I clearly thought there was more between us and I’ve asked for more than you are capable of giving. Forgive me. Goodbye, Julia.”
With that, he left the cabin. Julia’s feet felt as if they’d been sunk into concrete. She heard the slamming of his car door and the turning over of the engine, but she couldn’t move a muscle.
Small gravel pelted the front door as the car sped away down the mountain and still she stood frozen in place. It felt as if hours had passed before her body gave up its fight to remain upright and she collapsed into a heap upon the floor. Great sobs ripped through her as she replayed their last conversation over and over.
And the one word that continually came back to haunt her…Julia.
He’d called her Julia.
Chapter Ten
The days turned into weeks and time lost all meaning as Julia worked relentlessly on her novel. She slept only a few hours a night, many times jerking awake in a cold sweat, Ross’s name upon her lips. She ate when she remembered to, which wasn’t very often.
Twice, she ventured off the mountain to replenish her supplies. There wasn’t a scale in the cabin, but by the looseness of her clothing, she suspected she’d lost at least ten pounds.
After Ross’s departure, it had taken her nearly a week to pull herself from the bed and the deep depression into which she’d sunk. During that week, memories of her parents’ deaths haunted her. She could swear she heard Duke meowing at various times of the day.
The image of Ross’s face when she laughed at his declaration of love tore her heart to pieces.
Convinced she was losing her mind, Julia gave herself up to sleep to avoid the pain—only rousing to relieve herself, eat a few bites of food or throw an occasional log on the fire when the cabin became bone-chillingly cold.
After a week of self-pity, she roused herself enough to leave the sanctuary of her bed and make a plan. In spite of her best efforts not to suffer another debilitating loss, she had. Her own foolish fears had cost her the love of her life—the only man she could ever imagine marrying and having children with.
Refuting Ross’s declaration hadn’t saved her pain, but given it—unbearable amounts of soul-rending, heartbreaking aches that took her breath away. For two days, she plotted and planned, determined to win back the heart of her best friend. With her course set, she sat down to write. Her words were her only weapon, her only power.
In the dark of the night, when she awoke with tears streaming down her face, she sat down to write.
When loneliness ate at her insides like a cancer, she sat down to write.
When the memories of Ross’s arms around her felt like a vise squeezing the life out of her heart, she sat down to write.
Only the novel kept her going.
Once she’d roused herself from depression and risen from her bed, she started taking long walks in the snow, communing with Mother Nature as she felt the wounds of the past slowly heal. There was a lot to be said for the healing effects of the natural world.
Finally, after two months and three more snowstorms, the manuscript was complete. As a butterfly emerges from its cocoon, Julia felt she was coming alive again. Pleased with her efforts, she spent the next four days cleaning the entire cabin from top to bottom and packing up to prepare for her return to the city.
The real world.
Ross.
Driving down the mountain, Julia felt hopeful for the first time in weeks. Taking her time, she traveled back to New York like a lady of leisure, a person with nothing but time on her hands. She emailed her novel to Ross using the free wi-fi at the first Starbucks, then she bought a map and proceeded to take every back road she could find, eschewing the busy interstates in favor of exploring the small towns along the way, even stopping in Easton, Pennsylvania to tour the Crayola Factory. Walking around the displays with a tour group of elementary-school children, she felt very much like a child herself again.
It was as if she were starting her life anew, everything fresh and unique.
Unfamiliar and unexplored.
She took pleasure in the small things. Trying something different to eat at a restaurant. Stopping at overlooks along the way. Watching the arrival of spring and taking in the scenery as she drove—signs of the green season were sprouting up everywhere. A city girl by birth, she’d never fully appreciated all nature had to offer until her time in the cabin.
Riding with the windows down, she inhaled the smells of budding trees, blooming flowers and rain-soaked earth. Smiling, she took delight in everything she saw, feeling as if she were a blind woman who’d suddenly been granted the gift of sight. Even her return to the city—full of hectic traffic-packed streets, cursing, angry commuters, and taxicabs blaring their horns—did nothing to dim her new, happy outlook on life.
For the first time in her life, she felt free. Free to chart her course and achieve her goals. Goals she would stop at nothing to reach.
Entering her apartment exactly one week to the day she left the cabin, Julia dumped her suitcase in her bedroom and ventured out onto her tiny fire escape. Smiling, she yelled “Hello” to the familiar old neighborhood before setting out to unpack her clothing, aware her time in this apartment was waning away.
Changes were coming.
She wasn’t the same broken girl she’d been when she crawled in and decided to call the place home ten years ago. She had money in the bank, a successful career, and options—lots of them.
Reaching over, she flicked on her radio, the sound of Gloria Gaynor belting out “I Will Survive” suddenly permeating the room. Singing along, Julia spent the entire afternoon doing all the chores she’d spent a lifetime putting off—cleaning out closets and file cabinets, putting her old life in boxes, making room for the new one.
The doorbell ringing pulled her away from her work just as the sun was setting outside and her hungry stomach was starting to grumble. A quick peek out the peephole revealed, to her surprise, Ross.
Had he read her manuscript? Was that why he was here?
Taking a deep calming breath, she opened the door. She stepped back to watch him walk in with a large pizza and six-pack of beer.
“Welcome home.” He passed her with barely a sideways glance on his way to the kitchen.
Stunned speechless, she watched as he put the beer in the refrigerator and grabbed a couple of plates from the counter. She silently marveled over the fact she had watched him do this very same thing a thousand times and yet even this simple act seemed different, special.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” she asked, kicking herself for the slight quiver in her voice. Cool, Julia.Very cool.
“It’s Thursday, Jules. Pizza night,” he answered as if she were two slices short of an extra large. “Got a supreme to celebrate your return.”
“I know it’s Thursday, but how did you know I was back?”
&
nbsp; “I promised your landlady twenty bucks if she called me when you returned. Got the call this afternoon and settled the debt on my way up.”
“My, aren’t we ingenious?” She smiled tentatively, trying to determine his mood.
“I’m not without my resources.” He returned her smile with a faint one of his own. “You look good.”
Julia felt tears clogging her throat at his words. For once, her own words were failing her. Why couldn’t she say aloud all the things she found so easy to write on paper?
He cleared a spot on the dining table, now cluttered with packed boxes. “Getting a jump on spring cleaning?”
“Something like that. I’m surprised to see you here. I thought after you left the cabin—”
“I made a promise to you,” he said tightly.
“A promise?”
“I promised you that no matter how things ended in the cabin, we would still be friends. So here I am.”
Although the words sounded friendly, the tone was forced and Julia knew she had quite a bit of making up to do to him. She’d hurt him terribly and yet her heart swelled at the knowledge he would swallow his own wounded pride to keep a promise to her.
Just when she thought she couldn’t love him any more, he blindsided her with kindness, when all she truly deserved was his disdain.
“Ross,” she started, but he stopped her.
“I got your book,” he said, his words hitting her like an exploding bomb. A small cowardly part of her had been hoping he hadn’t read yet.
After all, the novel was their story and despite the fact Ross was standing in front of her, she couldn’t imagine he would want to discuss such a painful topic.
Did he want to continue the fight, rehash the arguments, berate her for behaving like such a fool?
Panic rising inside her, she tried to act nonchalant.
“Great,” she replied, her voice tight.
“It was good,” he added casually. “Really good. But, Brown Eyes—” He looked down at her. When had he gotten so close to her and had he really just called her Brown Eyes? “—you forgot to email me the last chapter.”