by Elena Aitken
“Yeah, right,” she mumbled under her breath and climbed up on their king-size mattress with the bottle in one hand and a glass in the other. She poured herself a healthy glass as she heard the shower turn on.
There was a time when Mark would have jumped her at the first sight of her standing in a negligee. A few years ago, he never would have opted for a shower first, no matter how sweaty he was. She took a long drink of the wine, letting the crisp coolness of the liquid soothe her hurt feelings.
“Just wait till I get out there,” Mark called from the shower.
She shook her head and drank deeply again. Christy knew him too well. He was just trying to cover his butt because he realized he’d been a bit of an ass by putting her off.
She took a deep breath and refilled her glass. She wouldn’t let it derail her. She had to remember what Drew had said. Love isn’t guaranteed. And life definitely wasn’t. They loved each other and they had each other. That was the most important thing.
Christy could feel the effects of the wine start to flow through her body. She was feeling more relaxed and almost a little too relaxed by the time Mark appeared in the bathroom door. But when she saw his hard chest, dripping with water, and nothing but a towel slung around his slender hips, Christy sat up so quickly, she sloshed a little wine on the comforter beneath her.
Her body may have changed over the years, but Mark’s had only gotten leaner, harder, and sexier with each passing year. Maybe all that running wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
He felt like an ass the second he stood under the hot water.
When was the last time Christy had met him at the door wearing only a negligee?
Never.
But he’d been caught off guard and he needed a minute to pull himself together and wash his run away. Not to mention the whole misunderstanding he’d had with Alicia that had him feeling like a jackass.
Even after they’d finished their run, he still felt bad about having even the smallest thought about Alicia in any way that wasn’t perfectly innocent. It wasn’t right and he needed a moment to compose himself before he went to join the woman he loved.
He lathered up and as he rinsed the soap off, the guilt hit him. He’d been a total jerk to Christy. She’d obviously gone to a lot of effort for them and he’d…
“Just wait till I get out there,” he called out to her from the shower. He could almost see her rolling her eyes. He never talked like that.
Shit.
As quickly as he could, Mark finished rinsing, turned the water off, and grabbed a towel.
“Hey there.”
She was lying on the bed, a glass of wine in her hand and a frown on her face. When she saw him, she jumped up and wine splashed out of the glass.
“Here.” He tried to take the wine, but she pulled it back.
“Hold on.” She tipped the glass to her mouth and drained it before handing it to him. “Now you can have it.”
She smiled and scooted back on the bed. “Come here.” She crooked her finger and beckoned to him.
He wasn’t about to put her off again. Mark crawled up on the bed over to his wife and kissed her firmly on the lips.
She tasted like wine.
Christy’s arms came up around him and held his head while she deepened the kiss. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and sloppily tangled with his.
He should have been turned on. His wife hadn’t been so forward in years, but something was off. Something didn’t feel right. It felt forced, different, not like Christy at all.
He pulled back a little to look at her. Her eyes were closed, but when she opened them, they were glazed and unfocused.
“Are you drunk?”
“What?” Christy’s mouth fell open in objection. “No. I’m not drunk, Mark. I had a glass of wine while I waited for you.”
He looked to the nightstand and the half-empty bottle and back at her.
“Okay, maybe two.”
Mark sat back and put a little distance between them. “I was only in there for five minutes.” He’d never seen her drink so quickly. In fact, she’d barely had more than the occasional glass for the last few years while they were undergoing treatments. But half a bottle in only a few minutes?
He shook his head and tightened the towel around his waist. “You’re drunk.”
“I am not drunk.” She pushed up to her knees; her negligee pulled tight over her chest and one breast threatened to pop out altogether. She had to be drunk—otherwise, the Christy he knew would have been tugging at the fabric to adjust it back in place, or at the very least, covering it up. “I was waiting for you.” She pointed at him and raised her voice. “Because I wanted to seduce you.”
Her words were definitely slurring.
He shook his head a little and tried to decide what to do. He wanted to be with her. He needed to be with her. It had been so long. But not like this. Not with her drunk. It wasn’t right.
None of this was right.
Mark tried to back away, but Christy lunged forward and grabbed his arm. “Where are you going?”
“Christy.” He tried to untangle himself from her. “I think you should—”
“Kiss you.”
She pushed him back and straddled his chest with her legs before smashing her mouth to his.
Despite what his brain was telling him, his body responded at once to the feel of his wife on his chest and he kissed her back.
“See?” She sat back and looked at him. “I’m not drunk, I’m just trying to…” She must have seen the doubt on his face because whatever she was going to say was lost. Instead, her eyes filled with tears. “I’m not drunk,” she repeated. “I was just trying to…oh, God.” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m so embarrassed.”
She tried to swing her leg off him so she could slip away, but he caught her hips with his hand. “No.” With one hand, he reached for her face and pried one of her hands away so he could see her. “Don’t be embarrassed. Christy, please. This just all got started wrong.”
To his relief, she dropped her other hand and looked into his eyes. “I’m not drunk.”
He nodded, although he still wasn’t convinced. If she wasn’t drunk, she was definitely tipsy.
“I was just trying to… I just thought it would be nice for us to…”
“I know what you mean,” he said softly. “And I agree.”
Her lips twitched up into a tiny smile. “You do?”
“Of course.” Mark laughed a little and wiped a tear from her cheek. “How could I not want to have sex with my gorgeous wife?” Something in her eyes flickered. The smile disappeared and he wondered again whether he’d said the wrong thing, but then the smile was back. “Can we start over?” he suggested.
It took her a moment, but she nodded.
“Okay.” Mark released her hands and slid off the bed. “You stay right here.” He pointed to her. “Don’t move.”
He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment but then turned right around and returned to the bedroom.
“Hey there, beautiful.” He took a moment to properly admire Christy in her nightie before crawling into the bed with her. And then he was next to her, kissing her.
There was so much hurt between them. So many broken dreams. So much blame. He knew she blamed him for the lack of their family—how could she not? There were too many things left unsaid, and he tried to kiss it all away and focus on the love between them. But something had shifted in her.
She kissed him back, but the enthusiasm from earlier, no matter how misguided, was gone. He used his hands to caress her and she reached down to touch him. A few moments later, he was on top of her, inside of her and instead of being the reconnection they so desperately needed, he’d never felt further away from her.
Afterward, Christy rolled over and fell asleep even though it was only mid-afternoon. Mark lay next to her, watching her. More than anything, he wanted to pull her close and kiss away all her pain and everything that was fractured betwe
en them. Instead, he quietly slipped out of bed, dressed and let her sleep.
Chapter Seven
“I don’t know.” Cam looked down at her notebook again, before looking up at Evan. “It just doesn’t feel right, you know?”
She hadn’t been in a hurry to get remarried after her disastrous divorce, but with Evan it didn’t feel like a hurry at all. It felt as if they’d been waiting their entire lives to finally move forward together. After they’d officially become engaged, they’d tossed around a few ideas for a wedding, including eloping, just the two of them, with only Morgan in attendance.
But Evan had never been married before and he really wanted the big party with all their friends in attendance, dancing into the night and celebrating the two of them.
They’d planned to hold the wedding in September, right when the leaves started to change and it was a bit cooler, but not too cool to have an outdoor reception. They even had a venue picked out. But now, with the news of Drew and Eric, it just didn’t seem right to be celebrating the start of a new life together while one of her best friends was facing the end of her own love story. She’d spent the last few days debating with herself and finally, almost a week after Drew had shared her sad news, she knew she had to say something to Evan about it.
“I know what you mean.” Evan stood behind her and rubbed her shoulders. “I’ve been struggling with that for the last few days, too.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
Cam reached up and put her hand on his and squeezed. “I want to marry you.”
He laughed. “Babe, I know that. And you’re not going to get rid of me that easily, just by postponing the ceremony.”
“So you do think we should put if off for a bit?” She twisted around in her chair and examined him. Part of her, the selfish part, wanted him to insist that they shouldn’t postpone their nuptials, but the other part of her, the more sensible part, knew that’s exactly what they should do.
He nodded, the way she knew he would. “I do. I just don’t know how I could really completely enjoy the day knowing that…well, I just don’t know if it’s the right time. I’m sorry, babe.”
Cam stood and went into his arms. Hugging Evan always felt like home. She could hardly believe they’d been apart for sixteen years. It felt as though they’d always been together. “Don’t be sorry,” she said. “It’s the right thing to do. And it’s not like it’s going to make any difference to us.”
“That’s right.”
“But it could mean the world to Drew and Eric. I really think we should focus this time on them. In fact, I was going to invite Amber out for an extended visit. I think she should be here as well.”
Amber was the fourth of their quartet, and a self-described workaholic based in San Francisco. Miraculously, she’d come back to town for the reunion party a few months earlier, but Cam was pretty sure Amber didn’t take any regular holidays at all. “She’s up for a big promotion,” Cam told Evan. “So it might not be perfect timing for her to come, but…”
“She will,” he finished for her. “And before you ask, of course she can stay here.”
“Thank you.” Cam grinned because Evan knew her, and her friends, so well. Amber’s father still lived in town, her mother having passed away years earlier when they were teenagers. But he was a cantankerous old man, and although Amber made a point to visit him, she refused to stay in her childhood home because it was too draining. Cam couldn’t blame her. “You’re awesome.”
“I know it.” Evan kissed her again before he moved to the fridge. “Hey, speaking of awesome, it’s pretty cool about Christy, don’t you think?”
“Christy?”
Wedding issues forgotten, Cam stared at her fiancé. “What are you talking about?” Surely he wasn’t talking about the fact that Christy and Mark’s latest attempt at having a child hadn’t panned out. That wasn’t cool at all. “Her hair?”
“Her hair? Why would I be talking about her hair?” Evan looked at her as if she’d just spoken in German, and Cam almost laughed. Typical that he wouldn’t have noticed Christy’s dramatic new hairstyle. She shook her head, and he continued. “No, I meant her singing.”
“Singing?” It was Cam’s turn to look confused. “What are you talking about?”
“She didn’t tell you?” Evan put a plate of sandwiches on the table and went back to the counter to grab the rest of the lunch he’d been preparing.
Cam grabbed some glasses and a pitcher of water out of the fridge. “She didn’t tell me anything,” she said. “Not about singing anyway. What are you talking about?”
“I was over at the Log and Jam yesterday, and Ben said Christy had been rehearsing with the Lumber Kings.”
She turned and stared at her fiancé. “Rehearsing? With the Lumber Kings? You realize that sentence didn’t make any sense, right? Who are the Lumber Kings?”
Evan laughed. “I keep forgetting that you haven’t lived in Timber Creek for the last sixteen years.” She shot him a look and he smiled. “But you’re here now.”
“Yes, I am.” She playfully punched his shoulder as she moved past him to sit at the table. “So…who are the Lumber Kings?”
“They’re a local band that plays fairly regularly at the Log and Jam.” He picked a ham sandwich off the plate in front of them and took a bite.
Cam loved these lunches together when Evan wasn’t working and she could sneak away from her home photography studio in the backyard. It was a little thing, but it made her happy.
“They sometimes play in some of the nearby towns,” Evan continued. “But that’s about it. They’re really good. We should go check them out sometime.”
Cam nodded and assessed her own sandwich. “Sure. But I still don’t understand what it has to do with Christy. She’s been rehearsing with them? Like singing? In a band?”
“Yup. That’s what Ben said.” He chewed thoughtfully. “I thought you knew.”
“Nope.” It was strange that Christy hadn’t said anything to her about it, though. She’d just talked to her on the phone the day before and she hadn’t mentioned anything at all about any singing. Come to think of it, Christy hadn’t said much at all. Nothing of substance anyway. Her friend was definitely acting strangely, and it wasn’t just the new hair and new clothes. She was different.
“I’m sure it just slipped her mind.” Evan looked at her thoughtfully. No doubt he could see the concern all over her face.
“Maybe,” Cam agreed, but she didn’t believe it. Something like singing in a band was not something that would have slipped Christy’s mind. Her friend intentionally hadn’t told her. And she was going to find out why.
Christy was nervous, which was ridiculous, but when Jamie had texted her and asked whether she could meet the band at the Log and Jam for a rehearsal, the initial excitement she’d felt had been immediately followed by nerves. It had been a few days since her last rehearsal and as much fun as she had, she hadn’t thought that it would become a regular thing. Not really.
She’d taken extra time getting ready that morning. She didn’t usually wear makeup at all unless it was a special occasion, or Mark was taking her out for dinner or something, but she’d taken care to apply eyeliner and even lipstick. Christy tried to tell herself it had nothing to do with the fact that every time she saw Jamie and he smiled at her, she felt a special warmth inside that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. But if she allowed herself to be honest with herself, she knew that feeling had a lot to do with why she’d taken extra care getting ready.
As usual, Mark hadn’t even asked what her plans were for the day, so she hadn’t told him. And she didn’t even feel bad anymore for keeping her singing from him. After all, if he wasn’t going to ask, why should she volunteer the information? He clearly didn’t care how she spent her day. There was a growing list of things that Christy was pretty sure Mark didn’t care about anymore.
Ever since her sort of failed, somewhat salvaged attempt to seduce him a few days earlier, the
strangeness and awkwardness between them had only grown more intense. She’d really tried not to dwell on it, or overthink anything, but whenever she remembered Saturday afternoon, and the epic fail of a seduction, she felt sick inside. How had they become so lost that they couldn’t enjoy an afternoon of no-pressure sex?
When had it happened?
She knew Mark had tried to save the situation, but by then, it had gone too far and she hated herself for going along with it anyway and having sex with him, in the hopes that the enthusiasm and desire she’d felt earlier would reappear.
It hadn’t.
When it was over, she pretended to be asleep so she could be alone. As soon as he left the room, she cried for everything that was broken between them. Because she had no idea how to fix it.
Christy had spent the rest of the weekend keeping busy with various projects around the house, and finally it was Monday and Mark went back to the office. The next few days passed in kind of a fog, with both of them pretending nothing had happened. It wasn’t until Tuesday when Jamie’s text came in, asking her whether she would rehearse with them on Thursday afternoon. She’d spent the next forty-eight hours focused on the feeling of having the microphone in her hand again, her eyes closed, and the music coursing through her. The excitement of it all had pulled her through the last few days, given her something to focus on and look forward to. It had been way too long since she’d felt that type of anticipation.
When she pulled into the parking lot of the pub, the beat-up black truck she now recognized as Jamie’s was in the parking lot. She parked a few spots over, grabbed her purse and with a deep breath, left the safety of her car behind.
There was a poster on the front door advertising live music.
The Lumber Kings.
Christy paused and examined the poster before laughing at herself as she made the connection. The Lumber Kings must be Jamie’s band. She still hadn’t asked what they called themselves. It hadn’t seemed important.
Live at the Log and Jam — July 26