I wanted so badly to know what she didn't think, but I didn't press it. She had already given me more than I ever expected. "It was," I agreed.
How to explain how intense it was? I was Everett McCabe. I grew up the golden son of doting parents. I was a literal Boy Scout. I helped old ladies cross the street. I was the upright paragon of manly virtue. To want what I wanted in the bedroom; to dominate, overpower and control, it was the opposite of everything I should be. I'd fought it for years, maybe my whole fucking life. I kept it tamped down and under control and I thought I could handle it until Brynn...
And then she'd said yes.
And then she'd let me.
And then she'd liked it.
Intense was too small a word for what this was.
"How are you?" I asked, checking in, worrying. I smoothed my hand lightly over the places the ropes had marked. "Can I get you anything?"
Her lips curved back into that smile and she touched my face with her newly freed hand again. "What are you?" she asked.
I blinked. Then stiffened. Pulling away, I looked down at her. "What do you mean?" I ventured cautiously.
She sat up, shaking her head. "I can't..." She peered closer at me. "There are two of you in there, aren't there?" she asked, staring into my eyes. I blinked and swallowed. "Jekyll and Hyde, right? Boy Scout Rett and Rett the..." She blushed.
"The pervert?"
"No." She shook her head. "Is that what you think? That you're perverted?" She bit her lip and grinned, subconsciously tracing the line along her wrist. "Well then guess what?"
"What?" I breathed.
She slid her hand over my sheet and closed it over mine. "Guess I'm a pervert too."
My heart turned a cartwheel in my chest, crowding my lungs so I couldn't speak. She leaned back onto the headboard. "So... oh fuck I sound like such a fucking girl when I ask this shit."
I grinned faintly at her. "You are a girl," I reminded her, reaching out to brush her breast.
"Fair point."
"What were you going to ask?"
"Well..." She bit her lip and looked away. "Is that what we're doing now?" She cleared her throat. "Being perverts together?"
I clenched my fist and then relaxed it. Slowly I regained control, pushing down the part of me that was ready to fall to my knees and declare my devotion. She was still thinking of this as a bit of fun. A diversion to keep her occupied over her summer vacation.
If that's what it took...
"Yeah. Sounds good to me," I said, stretching. If she wanted casual, I would be casual. I would do whatever she wanted. She just had to ask.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brynn
It was the second day of July and even though it was still midmorning, the temperature was already climbing into the upper 80s. I tugged at the sleeves of my long-sleeved t-shirt, trying to pull them down even further. "How does it look?" I asked Mr. Stevens.
My cat shot me a look of utter contempt and lifted his paw and started licking.
"Yeah, well, I can't do that," I said, pulling up the sleeve to reveal the faint pink line that ringed my wrists.
I couldn't help it. I grinned. I couldn't seem to stop grinning these days. My body looked like a roadmap and I couldn't be happier about it.
That was the beauty of the rope, I was starting to realize. It made the memory so much sharper. When my maxi skirt brushed my ankles and enlivened the sensitive skin there, I clearly remembered Rett's face as he finished the knot and then pushed my knees up to my chest. When I saw the faint lines on my chest, I could picture the way Rett used that knot for leverage to fuck me deeper as I screamed. Every moment with him seemed to be seared into my skin. Just pressing my fingers into the place the ropes held me was enough to make me smile.
I felt like I'd found some kind of secret only he and I shared. His ropes held me together. His ropes brought me back to myself.
But they also made it really awkward to dress myself in the summertime. The other day my brother had taken one look at me in my long skirt and long sleeves and asked me when I joined the Amish.
"Okay so, what about bracelets?"
Mr. Stevens looked up from his licking.
"Yeah, I think that'll work," I said, pulling off my long-sleeved shirt. I was instantly cooler. Rifling through my drawer, I pulled out a t-shirt with pretty flutter sleeves and higher neckline. Then I searched through the tangle on my dresser until I found a wide wooden bangle for one wrist and a set of stacked beaded bracelets for the other.
Then I took another look at the tangle. I'd been staring at the jumbled mess for months now, basically since I'd moved in. I'd been waiting until I had the time to organize it properly, waiting until I found the perfect box, preferably an antique wood inlay from Mrs. Feathergill's antique store, to display it in.
"But that doesn't seem to be happening," I mused aloud.
Mr. Stevens let out a chirpy little meow.
"You're right," I declared. "This is ridiculous." I bent over the tangle and extricated a chunky plastic beaded necklace meant to be strung around your neck several times. "I don't even wear this," I said, turning to show Mr. Stevens. "I mean, I thought maybe if I got the perfect tunic but..." I shook my head. "I never did, and I probably never will so..."
Mr. Stevens blinked.
"You're right," I said again. "I'm getting rid of it now." I went down to the kitchen and grabbed a bag from the mountain of plastic bags I never seemed to remember to take back to the grocery store for recycling. Then I headed back upstairs.
In a matter of fifteen minutes, I had untangled most of the mess. Three quarters of it ended up in the plastic bag, destined for the thrift store.
"I just need a..." I thought for a minute. Then a lightbulb went off in my head. "One of your old food bowls! That'll keep it contained," I said. "At least until I find something nicer. But at least it won't be strewn all over my dresser anymore."
Mr. Stevens was very interested in the reappearance of his old food bowl and I had to dump another cupful of food into his current one in order to keep him at bay while I took the other one upstairs. I laid out the remaining three necklaces, the ones I actually liked and wore, then added the two bangles and three sets of earrings to the bowl. Then I stepped back.
For the first time in months, the top of my dresser was clear. "Holy shit," I exhaled. It was strange how light I was suddenly feeling. I needed to mark this day down.
A little noise erupted out of my mouth and I turned in a slow circle to eye the journal on my nightstand that had been plaguing me for weeks.
"All right, asshole," I said. "It's on." And I grabbed it and ran downstairs for a pen.
I'd been journaling for a solid hour, the words coming fast and thick in a torrent of thoughts and musings when my phone buzzed on my coffee table.
I jumped, sending a line of ink skittering up the page, but I didn't worry about the page getting messy for once. I just reached for my phone and looked at the name.
I answered the call with a huge grin on my face. "Hey Autumn," I sang out.
"Oh my God," she wailed at the other end of the line. "I am such a shit friend. How has like two weeks gone by with me barely seeing you?"
I swallowed guiltily. I'd been so wrapped up in things — literally, I grinned to myself — that I'd let too much time slip by as well. "It's fine," I reassured her. "You're not a shit friend."
"Well I will won't be anymore," she said determinedly. "You're coming over for dinner. This Friday. No excuses bitch, I need to see your face."
I took a deep breath. "For dinner?" I repeated.
"Yes." I heard a muffled voice on the other end. "Cole says you have to come too, so that's two against one."
I winced. I loved Autumn dearly, but the idea of spending at dinner watching the two of them wrapped up in newlywed bliss made my stomach churn. I took a deep breath. "Sure, I'd love to." I hesitated. How could this be better? I touched my wrist. "Can I bring someone?"
I could practic
ally hear Autumn's eyes grow wide. "Is there... Someone you want to bring?" she asked, emphasizing the word someone like it was in all capital letters.
I took a deep breath. "There is," I hedged.
"Well? Tell me who it is!" she demanded.
I hesitated again. Autumn and Rett had dated, back when she and Cole weren't together. We had spent a lot of time laughing about how uptight he was, how conservative. Of course that was before...
Idly I chased the line of sensitive skin that ringed my wrist. "Rett McCabe," I said firmly.
I could practically hear Autumn's eyes go even wider. "Really?" she asked.
"Really," I said firmly.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Everett
I was in the middle of a huge project when my cell phone buzzed on my desk. I looked down, irritated over whoever was interrupting me at the moment.
Then I grabbed the phone with the biggest, stupid grin on my face.
"Hey," I said, careful to keep my voice low. Phone conversations tended to carry in this office, with everything getting somehow quieter so everyone could eavesdrop.
"Hi, am I bothering you?" Brynn asked.
I shook my head. Like she could see it. "Not at all." You could never bother me. "What's going on?"
"I have a favor to ask."
I lowered my voice even further. "Whatever you want Brynn. You know that. You just have to ask."
She let out a breathless little laugh. "Stop it."
"What, am I making you..."
"Remember? Yeah." I could hear the little gasp in her voice and was proud as shit that I was the one who put it there. She dropped her voice too. "I liked what you did the other night. From behind?"
I swallowed. "I liked that too."
"So this is a lot to ask..." she hedged.
"Brynn," I warned her. "Say what you want."
She heaved a giant sigh. "Remember Autumn Melton?"
I leaned back in my chair. "Of course."
"Well, she's a good friend of mine."
"I know that Brynn."
"You do? How?"
"Small town," I reminded her.
She laughed. "Okay fair enough, so you know she's Autumn Melton-Granger now?"
"Yes, of course."
"Well she wants me to come over," she exhaled in a rush of breath, "and she and Cole just got married and I feel like a third wheel and I was wondering if you could maybe..."
"Come with you?" I smiled.
"Um. Yeah." She waited a beat. "I know it's a lot to ask what with you guys dating a while back..."
"Brynn that was ages ago."
"It really wasn't," she pointed out.
I grinned. "Well it feels like it was. Yes, of course, I'd love to come with you."
"Really?"
She sounded so fucking delighted.
I was fucking delighted too. "Yeah really. When is this dinner happening?"
"Friday?"
"What time? I'll pick you up."
"Seven?"
"That sounds fine. I'll see you then."
"Thanks Rett," she said sincerely.
So many words leaped to my lips at once, crowding and jostling each other that I lost the ability to speak for a moment. When I finally recovered it, the only thing I could say was, "You're welcome."
It wasn't until I hung up that I realized she'd made no cracks about using me, no jokes about how useful I was to have around. A flush of triumph spread from my hairline all the way down to my neck.
I was so wrapped up in my jubilation that I didn't even hear Josh until he was right at my door. "Taking personal calls at work, McCabe?" he called out, louder than he needed to, as he folded his arms and leaned in my doorway. "Wouldn't have figured you as somebody to break company policy like that."
"What the fuck do you want, Withers?" I exploded. I was not in the mood for this. Not right now. Not after Brynn...
"Whoa man, calm down!" he said, holding up his hands like he was trying to ward off a blow. "I'm just playing with you. Learn to take a joke."
On any other day, I would have chuckled and played along. But today was not one of them. "I can take a joke just fine when it's actually funny," I told him.
From the flicker of hesitation that passed across his face I could tell I was unnerving him. But rather than get the hint, he cracked a big old Jack o'lantern smile. "Who was she?"
"Who?"
"The chick? The one you were gettin' all goopey with?" His eyes widened. "Was it the blonde chick from the country club? Shit man, I have to say my belated thanks to you for bringing her. I've never seen a more perfect rack in all my days. You seen those tits yet, McCabe? You get your face down in there and just motorboat the shit out of... fuck!"
His speech was interrupted by a loud squawk and I couldn't figure out why he was yelping like that until I looked down and saw that I had him by the shirt collar.
"What the fuck, McCabe?"
We were right in my doorway, which opened out into a sea of cubicles. Heads were popping up over the walls like prairie dogs peeking out of their holes. People were seeing me losing my cool like this, the exact opposite of the buttoned-up Boy Scout they knew me to be.
And I didn't give a fuck.
"Don't," I told Withers, keeping my voice low. "Don't you ever talk about Brynn that way. Ever."
"Jesus," he hissed. I let go of his collar — slowly — and he let out a nervous cough. "Fucking hell McCabe."
"And another thing," I heard myself say, suddenly on a roll. "I'm not your frat brother. We're fucking co-workers and that's it. You bring me your project when you're done with your end of it, and that's it. No more hanging around my office talking about tits like some goddamned middle schooler. Grow the fuck up, Withers."
He blinked rapidly. "Yeah man," he said soothingly, holding up his hands in front of him. "Sure. Whatever you say."
"You're goddamned right." And with that I turned back into my office and for the first time since I started working here years ago, I shut my goddamned door.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Brynn
Cole and Autumn had spent most of the year renovating one of the beautiful old Victorians in Rett's neighborhood. It was only a short walk over there from his house, but every step felt fraught with meaning.
Oh, don't mind us, just your basic every day couple, going over to a dinner party like a completely normal people. No one can tell he ties me up in the bedroom. No one can tell how much I like it.
When we got there, Autumn was her typical bubbly self, almost maniacally so. She had overcooked, as if Rett and I were an army of thousands rather than just two guests.
"How much did you expect we were going to eat?" I demanded, eyeing the groaning table wide-eyed.
"Well, when you said you were—" She shot a glance at Rett who was sitting next to me, a picture of studied calm compared to Autumn's bubbly mania. "Bringing someone," she finished, capitalizing the word someone with her voice again, "I had to add to the menu."
"I appreciate it," Rett interjected smoothly. "I'm a growing boy."
Everyone laughed and I shot him a grateful glance for saving me from running my mouth again. The corner of his lip curved up and then he turned to Cole. "How's the big project coming?" he asked.
Cole owned a company that was working on a big redevelopment project down at the site of the old marina.
Cole drummed his fingers on the table. "You know, I was trying to explain to my old company before I left about how this town was going to be a destination pulling in from a lot wider area than it used to, but nobody listened to me." Autumn shot him an admiring smile and reached for his hand. "But I think my theory is going to prove correct, because I've had a lot of interest from companies based outside of the area."
"Like who?" Rett asked.
"Mostly restaurants, actually. And get this, Jackson Nye wants to open up an Indigo satellite location.”
"Fancy," Rett said with raised eyebrows.
"I have no idea
what you're talking about," I piped up.
Cole laughed. "Jackson Nye owns a bunch of restaurants in New York and one of them, Indigo, just got a Michelin star." Cole looked very pleased with himself. "Getting something like that? Here? That's huge."
"It is," Autumn agreed, looking at him worshipfully for a moment. Then she sort of snapped out of her trance like she'd just remembered we were here. "How about you? How is your ‘summer of self’ going?"
I looked down at my hands, winding my finger around my wrist. I'd done a lot of learning about myself so far this summer, but it was nothing I wanted to tell Autumn about, that was for certain. "Oh hey, before I forget to ask you," I said, deftly sidestepping the question. "How is little Grace Moore doing at daycare?"
"Oh Gracie?" Autumn sighed. "She's such a love. She's doing... okay." Autumn blinked for a moment, deep in thought. "You know she goes in these weird little cycles, have you noticed that?"
I nodded slowly. "Now that you mention it, yeah. Like she—"
"Fades in and out," Autumn finished my sentence as I nodded. "Like bad radio reception or something. Some days she's fully there and present and doing all the work and playing with her friends. And then other days it's like she's—"
"Completely lost," I nodded.
"Right." Autumn trailed off again. "I haven't figured out any pattern to it. It's not like she's sick or anything."
"No, she seems pretty healthy," I ventured.
"Yeah," Autumn sighed.
"I wonder if there's something going on at home?"
"Well I know her mother works odd hours. She's mentioned mommy working nights and having sitters and stuff."
"Maybe it's stress over that?"
"I don't know."
I leaned back in my chair and looked over at Rett. He was listening intently. "Sorry, work stuff."
"It's fine," he said with a small grin. "I like hearing about what you do."
I blushed and looked down. When I looked back up again, Autumn was sitting practically at the edge of her chair, smiling so wide her face looked like it would split. "What?" I said.
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