Affairs & Atonements (14 page)

“Yeah? You know what?” Marshall slipped into a chair beside his nephew. “It’s mine too. And your mom’s has got to be the best.”

JR chuckled. “Yep.”

“I thought you men deserved something really nice after working so ardently on that treehouse,” said Christy, transferring the roasted meat from the pan and into a serving plate. “It was a heck of a job and with the initial set-backs…” She coughed. “I’m pleasantly surprised that all three of you came out on top of it. And done a great job at it too.”

“She approves.” Marshall tugged JR’s arm.

“Now is the time,” he whispered.

“You think? Ok, here goes.” He cleared his throat and said aloud. “Then can we have some wine with that?”

Christy lifted her brow. “That was a little sneaky. Yes.” And then added quickly before Marshall could dart for the cellar. “So long as you don’t stay up too late and promise not to down the bottle all on your own.”

Marshall grumbled. “Yeah, okay.” He whispered into JR’s ear, “Bossy boots.”

JR giggled.

“I heard that,” she said with a pretentious growl. “But you’re traveling back to Bennett tomorrow and I don’t want you all tired and drunk on your way there.”

Marshall made a sulky face at JR and then headed off towards the cellar.

“I love your treehouse, JR,” Margaret said, ambling into the kitchen. “When are you going to start painting the insides?”

“Dad said we could get some paint tomorrow. And I get to paint it all on my own,” said JR proudly. “He’ll show me how first, but then after that I could take it from there.”

“Sounds good,” said his grandmother. “Have you decided on the colors?”

“Maybe blue. Or green.” He scrunched his mouth in deep thought. “I don’t know. I like them both.”

“If you go down to the paint store, they have those little color cards you can choose from. Probably you should not be so set on what colors you want before seeing them first?”

“Yeah, I guess. And as soon as I get the painting done, Dad’s gonna put up the windows. I can’t wait to start filling it up, Nan.”

She laughed. “I can’t wait to fill it up also.”

Christy cleared her throat, interrupting them. “Your father, JR… he isn’t here yet. Why don’t you run up to his room and tell him that dinner’s ready?”

JR shot out of the chair and out of the room almost immediately.

Margaret smiled. “He’s always looking for an opportunity to spend time with his dad.” She raised a curious eyebrow. “You’re being a lot more polite these days with him too.”

“He
is
JR’s father, Margaret.” She rolled her eyes. “I have to be polite. And besides he did do impressively with that treehouse. He worked hard on it and I just think he deserves something special tonight.”

“You don’t have to get defensive.” Margaret teased. “I’m just saying it’s nice that you are.”

Christy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, observing her little dinner spread critically.
Have I taken it too far? I probably shouldn’t have made the salad. Yeah… I definitely shouldn’t have made the salad.

*****

Ashton rolled up his cuffs and then straightened his collar. He gave himself one last inspection in the mirror then sat back tiredly into a chair by the window. Nothing felt right. He shouldn’t be up here sitting alone in the lodge. He should be there with the family. He belonged there. That’s where he needed to stay. To live there, sleep there.

His fingers rapped on the arms of his chair.
I’m being greedy. I want more.
But then when was he not? He had always been ambitious, not ever settling for what he was blessed with.

He was fortunate that Christy had invited him back into her life, even though it was only for the limited role as JR’s father. He had the most passionate sex with her last night. Undeniably, the best he had ever had with any woman. And then she had willingly dismissed it as a mistake and stepped away. At least, he wouldn’t have to carry the burden of hurting her, he tried telling himself. They were adults now. They understood that sometimes people succumbed to their desires and lapsed into their weaknesses. And she had been his. Now that they had got the sex out of the way, they wouldn’t be as attracted to each other anymore. They could proceed respectfully with their lives. He could return to just being JR’s father and go back to Philadelphia being the high-powered advertising executive.

If it all made absolute sense, then why the fuck did it feel so wrong?

“Dad?” JR knocked on his door.

He let out a breath. “Yeah, buddy. Come on in.”

The boy swung open the door and jumped onto his bed. “Mom said dinner’s ready.”

“Yeah?” He smiled to himself, repeatedly churning those four simple words spilt so casually out of his child’s mouth in his mind. He liked that message. And suddenly he had a yearning to hear them every night for the rest of his life.

“Dad, are you okay?” JR asked, now peeking closely at his face.

“Yeah, I am.” He grinned, standing up. “We should go. Mom will get mad. I’m already late as it is.”

“Oh yeah. She hates re-heating the food.” JR rolled his eyes. “But what kept you so long? We’ve been waiting for ages.”

“I’m sorry.” He put an arm around his son’s shoulders. He was sorry about a lot of things. But he was determined to never be late again. Chad may be Christy’s boyfriend. However, she was also his wife and he was going to do everything possible to make sure she remained as that. This was his family and he was going to fight to keep them with him.

He arrived in the kitchen to find Margaret and Marshall chatting wildly over a bottle of wine.

“Hey,” he said loudly, announcing his arrival. “What’d I miss?”

“A fine bottle of Chardonnay,” said Marshall, filling him a glass.

Ashton noticed that Marshall had deliberately left the head of the table vacant for him and willingly taken seat to the left. Something caught in his throat. He must have become such a softie in the days he had spent here, finding meaning and depth in the smallest gestures.

He pulled back his chair and settled in, quickly glancing at Christy seated at the other end. He would have preferred her closer to him; where he could at least graze her fingers accidently while passing over the salt, pepper or sauce. She always did smell so delicious after cooking.

She looked away from him, turning instead towards JR. “We should start eating before dinner gets any colder.”

He sulked, picking up a piece of stuffed chicken breasts. She was avoiding any eye contact. She spoke very little and when she did she always directed her conversation to anyone but him. She seemed adamant on adhering to her decision on staying with Chad. Well, that wasn’t going to happen if he could help it.

“You’re a little picky with your food tonight, Ashton.” Marshall observed.

Ashton put down his fork to rub his temples. “I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

“He must not like breasts,” Christy mumbled.

Ashton caressed the stem of his wine glass with the tips of his fingers. “Actually, I love them. I had some last night and they were beautiful. They were a special variety.” He smiled at the others at the table.

Christie blushed, almost dropping her fork.

“Right, you weren’t here for dinner.” Margaret noted. “Where did you dine out?”

He felt cheeky and he suddenly had an urge to torment the beautiful woman reddening across him. “I had a take-out. And they were delicious. They delivered right at the door.”

Christy puffed with embarrassment.

“Where did you order from?” Margaret asked.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Christy ordered for me. I am totally hopeless at remembering names.”

He sat back, enjoying the woman shift uncomfortably on her chair as everyone turned towards her for answers. Well, she deserved it considering how much hurt she had caused him the entire day. And how the heck could she simply make an important decision as staying on with Chad all on her own? What about him? Hadn’t what they shared last night mean anything at all? He had gone down on his knees trying to please her last night and he was damned if she had decided that was the last time he’d do it.

“I… I can’t remember,” Christie stuttered. “It was from one of those junk catalogues in the mail. I threw the pamphlet away this morning.” She glared at Ashton. “I’m terribly sorry, but it looks like you will never get a taste of them again.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Ashton feigned a groan. “They were a small serving but they were delicious. It doesn’t matter though, because Christy’s are the best.” He took a bite of the stuffed meat and chewed it, glaring back at her.

“Oh, yeah,” Margaret said, bobbling her head. “Christy does know how to cook. Anyone’s who’s had a taste of her food can’t deny
that
. The guests rave about it, that’s for sure.”

“She’s always had a knack for cooking.” Marshall smiled. “She took charge of the kitchen when she was living with us as well.”

Christy stood up, carrying her plate with her. “I’m not that good. But thanks.” She managed a small smile.

Ashton gaze lingered on her frame, her back and then slowly moved down to her buttocks. He would agree she was a great cook. But right now, he was eager to have more than just stuffed chicken breasts.

Margaret stood up, and then JR left the table, leaving he and Marshall alone with an almost empty bottle of wine.

“Hey, you want to get out of here for a while?” Marshall whispered, crouching low as if he were hiding from Christy.

“Go into town? Get some beer?”

“More like drinking it there? At a bar?”

“Sounds good. Meet me by the crew cab in fifteen minutes?”

“You got it.”

Marshall rose casually and tossed his plate into the sink. “I’ll just take a walk before I head to bed,” he told Christy.

“Don’t stay up too long. Remember, you’re travelling tomorrow.”

“Yeah, got you sis,” Marshall said, kissing her on her temple.

Ashton rose up and put his plate into the sink as well. “You need some help clearing up?”

“No,” she replied tersely. “Margaret will be back soon.”

He nodded and began to walk away.

“How could you do that?” she uttered with disbelief, stopping him in his tracks.

“Do what?” he asked nonchalantly as he turned around.

“Embarrassing me like that,” she spat out.  “That was so inappropriate!”

“Inappropriate?” He neared her until he was a breath away from her. She stepped back and he moved along with her. “No, inappropriate was you announcing that you were going to remain with that idiotic of a man after a night of passionate love-making,
and
having the gall to walk away with him hand-in-hand right in front of me!”

“Lovemaking? It was sex, Ashton. Nothing more. So get over it.”

“Sex?” He grabbed her wrist angrily and pulled her to him. “Is that what it was? Then why do I feel this!” He dragged her hand to his hard crotch, making her feel the length of his shaft straining against his pants. He rubbed her hands up and down against his hard cock and she caught her breath. “This is what you do to me every time I’m near you. And then there is this.” He dragged her palm up to his heart. “What do I do with that? It won’t fucking stop racing when I see you, when I touch you.” He cupped her face, nuzzling it. “And I’m so afraid it will completely stop if I don’t ever get to kiss you again,” he whispered, his breath shivering her skin.

He let her go and she stumbled back in a daze, utterly speechless.

“I have to go,” he muttered. He walked away with melancholic strides, dejected and frustrated. He had to respect her choices. And he could only do that if he put some distance between them, where he knew he couldn’t touch her.

*****

Her legs wobbled beneath her and she had to hold onto the kitchen sink to steady herself. She pulled out the nearest chair and dropped into it.
What had he done? I’m madly in love with him.

Her mind raced, trying to rationalize through everything that had happened. But it was clear she had complicated it by sleeping with him.
No, this is not love. It’s just a physical reaction. After all, he’s so goddamned handsome.
Her body was simply reacting to memories of how she had felt about him all those years ago. This was sex. This was only physical attraction. She had to be right.

She shivered. Her ears deafened with the pounding of her heart as she recalled how his hard length had felt against her hand. His warmth had suffused through his pants and at that moment, all she had wanted to do was to wrap her hand around his hot velvety length. He had heated her instantly, her hot fluid creaming in her core. If he had known… if only he had known…

But then he had made her touch his heart and she had melted. Did he still love her? Was there a possibility that… he and she…?

She put her head in her hands in frustration. It was sexual compatibility. They were simply attracted to each other, she told herself again. Ashton was probably just as confused as she was. He didn’t love her. For god sakes, he was still engaged. What was more confirming than that? She had to sort this out and she had to do it fast. Otherwise, she’d be the one hurt again once it all came to an end. And she didn’t think she had the strength to pull through it this time.

*****

Country music blared in the small bar. People chattered and laughed, adding to the noise reverberating against the walls. Ashton wondered where they all came from as he glanced around at the people filling it to the hilt.

“Your first time here?” Marshall asked as he lifted another large mug of beer to his lips.

“Not yours, I can tell.” He grinned.

“Usually I would come here any time other than the night before I return to Bennett. Christy doesn’t like me traveling drunk back home. She worries about me a lot. But seeing that you and I… we, er, started out rough, we really didn’t get the chance to make amends over a glass of beer.”

“Thanks.” He smiled.

“Sisters.” He sighed. “They cause a good deal of grief when you’re close to them.”

“Well, you’ve always treated Christy like your little girl. I should have expected I would be messing with her father and
not
her brother.”

“And you’ve always looked out for Linda.”

Ashton grew quiet. “She was always a sickly thing.”

“And you were being protective. I know that now.”

“I didn’t expect to her be so mean and devious. She was always sharp with Christy, but I just it was her lupus getting to her; making her frustrated and all.” He recalled how he had witnessed Linda chastise Christy in the kitchen on that night she had run-off to her first date.  He had uncomfortably listened to her curse at Christy and he had done nothing to stop her then. Christy had naturally assumed he had taken sides with Linda. What she didn’t know was how he later had tried to reason with Linda to ease off Christy a little.

“It’s all in the past now, kid. No need delving in them now.”

He palmed his face. “Sometimes, you just need to dive into that old trash to know why things are the way they are now. I was so stupid.”

“Everyone makes mistakes, Ashton. I made my own as well. No one is perfect. I wished things would have turned out better for Linda and me. You know, I loved your sister, right?” Marshall took another gulp of his drink. “She was beautiful. She was the belle of the town. Every man had his eye on her. So I was pretty surprised when she paid me any attention whenever I visited your father’s hardware store. She wasn’t always there. But when she was, she’d swish right up to me in one of her beautiful dresses.”

Ashton groaned. “Do I need to hear any more of this?”

Marshall punched him in the arm. “Ahhh, she was a princess. I should have known I was marrying trouble.”

“How come you never took up her offer to work at Dad’s store?”

Marshall perked his lips thoughtfully, tip-tapping his now empty mug on the bar table. “Can I have another?” He ordered the bartender. The man in crisp white shirt and black apron whisked him another and slapped the mug on a clean serviette. Marshall stared at his mug of beer, silently playing with the edges of the tissue. “Your father was a total bastard,” he said at last.

Ashton raised his brow. How does anyone react to someone cursing their parents? His mom and dad weren’t perfect, but he had always thought they were there for him and Linda whenever they needed them.

“When I had started dating Linda, your father didn’t like it. He wouldn’t let anyone serve me at the store and I ended up avoiding it altogether. Linda and I had a small wedding, as you know. But I wonder if you noticed that he had snubbed me during the entire ceremony. I thought things would improve after the wedding. I was mistaken. He never accepted me as part of the family.”

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t know.”

He shrugged. “They were subtle. You wouldn’t have noticed them unless you were looking out for them.”

“Did Linda know?”

“Yes.” He smacked his lips after another sip of his drink. “She told me to basically shut-up and put up with it and take that offer from your father while I stood a chance with him. Of course with the kind of pride I carried around; there was no way I was going to let that happen. I was immature. For the sake of our marriage, I probably should have taken his offer. But I knew I would never be happy. And then there was Linda who wasn’t happy just being a construction worker’s wife. We were screwed either way. I suppose things worked out for the best in the end. I’m happy with my new family and she’s happy being the rich daughter again.”

Ashton caressed the ear of his mug with his finger. But Linda was far from happy. After returning to the family home, she became even more resentful and recalcitrant, plaguing his parents with a lot more worry than they had whilst she was married.

“Yeah, Arthur Pryor was some nasty piece of work.” Marshall shook his head solemnly. He grew silent, staring at the glass shelf displaying an array of expensive liquor. “How is she doing now? Is she still ill?” he asked slowly, with genuine concern lining his eyes.

“Not as much.” Ashton sighed. “She had taken a serious turn a few months ago. But she’s out of that now and is actually coping quite well.”

Marshall nodded his fair head. “That’s good. I wish her well. I really do.”

“I know.”

“It’s strange how divorces are. Some people end-up hating their ex-spouses more than they had once loved them. And then there are the unfortunate ones like me. We let them live in some corner of our hearts,” he said, pointing to the left of his torso. “Right there. Absolutely hopeless at releasing them. Never being able to let them go.”