Read As If You Never Left Me (Crimson Romance) Online
Authors: Katriena Knights
Tags: #romance, #spicy
Joely rubbed her forehead. “It can’t possibly get any worse than it already is. Just tell me. And call me Joely.”
Lisette’s voice embarked on a story. Joely wondered what she looked like. What kind of expression was on her face? Was she enjoying her role as dropper of bombshells? Worse, was it possible she would just introduce another impossible element to the situation by lying to Joely? Maybe Lisette wanted Rey for herself.
The story unwound.
“I dated Rey a couple of times.” Okay, this was bad. Joely closed her eyes. “When we got to the third date, I tried to seduce him.” This was worse. “No luck. Now, when a man passes up commitment-free sex, I know there’s a problem. So the next time we went out, I got him drunk.”
Joely tipped her head back against the couch. Tears teased the corners of her eyes. “Do I want to hear the rest of this?”
“Yes, you do. I still couldn’t get him to sleep with me, but under the influence of Captain Morgan and José Cuervo, he told me his entire life story. Which was when I found out about you.” There was a pause. “Joely, I know when I’m beat. I didn’t have a chance in hell with him. And he was such a mess — he said you gave him no warning, just threw divorce papers at him and left. It blindsided him. So when the suit with Cherokee came up, I just gave him a nudge. And when he came back home two weeks ago, I gave him another one. Now, apparently, you need the treatment. So you got it. Whatever it is that’s keeping you away from him, get the hell over it. You won’t regret it.”
Joely blinked as the tears slid down her face. She could summon no words.
After a moment Lisette said, “Are you all right?”
“No,” Joely managed.
“Can I do anything else for you?”
“No.” She dried her face with the back of one hand. “Thank you, Lisette. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
Before Lisette could say anything else, Joely hung up the phone.
Blindsided. How could Rey have been blindsided? Hadn’t he seen how unhappy she was?
But maybe that was the point. Had she ever actually told him?
For the first time, Joely tried to put herself in Rey’s place. Devastated by his defeat in the courtroom. His wife jobless because of his failure. Humiliated. Trying to redeem himself in the only way he knew how — by excelling at his job.
And then one night to come home and face Joely’s anger. Anger that had built over months of frustration she hadn’t expressed to him. Frustration she’d nurtured inside her, assuming he should just automatically know, as if mental telepathy were a natural side effect of love.
Then, after all that time, to come to her and shoulder blame that didn’t all belong to him, only to have that thrown back into his face over something as trivial as the involvement of a friend.
Joely squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to shut out the pain constricting her heart. “My God,” she whispered. “What have I done?”
• • •
He could do one of two things, Rey decided. He could stay here and hope she came back. Or he could get in his car and chase her back up the mountain, fall at her feet and beg her to take him back.
Both choices had a certain appeal. But, technically, he’d already tried them both and neither had worked.
Maybe it was time to just let it go.
He gave a long, resigned sigh. The Joely-less chapter of his life was about to begin.
He had never felt so empty. It was as if someone had just ripped a piece of his soul out, brutally, and without benefit of anesthetic. This was worse, even, than the day she’d walked out. Because this time he knew he’d done everything he could to mend the rifts, and nothing had worked.
He hadn’t cried since he was seven, but he felt the tears now, in a big, ugly wad at the back of his throat. Ruthlessly, he swallowed them.
This wasn’t going to happen.
He grabbed his car keys from the nightstand and stalked to the door.
He jerked the door open, and froze.
Joely stood in the hallway, one fist raised, ready to knock.
“Joely,” he said, and she said, “Rey,” in the same breath.
There was no getting over the awkwardness. He just stared at her for far too long, without realizing it was far too long. Time seemed to have stopped, hovering between them, waiting for one of them to do something so it could move again.
Finally, he took a step backward. “Come in.”
She did, not looking at him or touching him. Deliberately, too, because she had to contort her body backward strangely to keep from brushing her chest against his.
He turned, watching her back as she walked into the room. “I figured you’d be halfway back up the mountain by now.”
She wheeled around to face him. Her face was bleak. “I probably should be. At least that way I could keep from saying anything stupid.”
“Stupid like what?”
“Stupid like I’m sorry, I love you.” She shrugged. “And I’m sorry.”
“That was supposed to be my line.”
“That’s what I thought, too. I think maybe I was wrong.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, regarding her. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that for all this time, I’ve totally blamed you for breaking up our marriage. But maybe I had something to do with it, too.”
He pressed his lips tightly together to keep from saying anything. This was a big step for her, he knew, and he didn’t want to discourage her by being a jerk about it. She looked at him like she was waiting for him to say something, so he nodded. “I’m listening.”
Her lips trembled and she compressed them for a moment, tears filling her eyes. He wanted to touch her, to say something, to do something, but he had no idea what she would accept right now. Finally, the shivering in her mouth stilled. She blinked a few times before she spoke.
“Did I ever, in all the time you were working so much, did I ever tell you how I felt about it?”
Slowly, he shook his head. “Did I ever ask you?”
She arched a graceful sweep of blonde eyebrow in surprise. “No. You never did.” She paused, her gaze becoming a bit more shrewd. He wondered what kinds of gears were turning behind her eyes. “Did I ever tell you I felt alone?”
“No. Did I ever tell you how much it hurt, losing that case?”
“You never really talked to me about it at all.”
Taking a step toward her, he nodded. Her brows compressed in puzzlement as he held both hands out to her. “Maybe we should follow the rules on this one?”
For the space of a long, held breath, he wondered if he’d just blown the whole thing. But finally she smiled, then actually laughed a little, and held out her own hands. “Maybe we should.”
He closed his fingers around hers as they settled across from each other on the bed. “Don’t let go,” he said. “Whatever happens, just don’t let go.”
She nodded. “You first.”
“No. You go on.”
At first he thought she might protest, but she squeezed her eyes tight. Her hands tightened a little on his at the same time. After a second or two, she opened her eyes and said, “It seemed to me like you were closing me out more and more, and it didn’t matter if I said anything or not, because it was like you weren’t even there.”
He nodded. Fair enough. “I felt like I had to redeem myself to you. I felt like I’d ruined your life because I lost you your job. It was hard for me to even face you, much less wonder if I was hurting you.”
“You were hurting so much yourself.”
“No, no.” He gave her a crooked smile. “No comments allowed yet.”
“Then what do we do next?”
“Kiss me.”
“What?”
“Those are the rules. You talk, then I talk, and then you kiss me.”
“Okay, I think I remember something about that.”
She scooted forward on the bed, keeping her legs crossed, until her knees bumped against his. Then, still holding tight to his hands, she leaned forward and kissed him.
He closed his eyes, the better to taste and feel the press of her lips against his. He didn’t want to lose this again. The kiss was gentle, almost hesitant, but soon began to simmer. He drew back just as he felt her mouth begin to slacken, ready to let him in. No need to go too fast.
“For a long time, I blamed this on you,” he said, “because you were the one who left.” Hurt sprang up in her eyes and her hands pulled a little away from his. He tightened his grasp on her fingers, maintaining the connection. “I didn’t want to admit I’d done anything wrong.” A wry smile curled his lips. “I don’t think you understand how hard it is for a man to admit he’s wrong.”
“It was a big thing, you coming out here.” Her eyes had gone moist again.
“Yes, it was. But it’s your turn. No comments.”
“It seemed like there was no way to get your attention. You didn’t even want to make love to me anymore.” She bit her lip as if trying to call back what she’d said.
But he only nodded slowly, understanding in his eyes. “I had the same feeling about you. Like you weren’t interested anymore.”
“But — ”
“No, no. No comments yet.” He shifted closer. “Now I kiss you.”
She looked skeptical, but tilted her head closer to him. “Are you sure this is going to work?”
“No. I made it all up off the top of my head.” He moved just a little closer, his lips nearly brushing hers. “My guess is it’s all a load of crap.”
He kissed her before she could respond, and she laughed against his lips. It was hard to resist the soft opening of her mouth. More than that, it was pointless. He pressed closer, letting his tongue slip past her lips.
She was right. It was hard to focus on the disagreement with these interludes. He wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.
It felt good, though, it tasted good as he explored more deeply. Her response felt good, too, as she tugged her hands loose from his and put her arms around him, pulling him closer. Her body went warm and soft, melting between her legs. She felt safe here, in spite of everything.
He thought she was as lost in the kiss as he was, but this time she pulled back.
“Aren’t we supposed to have a time limit on this part of it?”
“Something like that.” He tried to dive in again but she ducked out of his way.
“Seriously, Rey. They’re your rules. Are we following them, or not?”
“We should try.” Reining in the intense surge of his libido, he schooled his features to studiousness. “Whose turn is it?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Neither do I.”
“Is that bad or good?” She seemed anxious about the answer.
“I don’t know. We haven’t really settled anything.”
He nestled her against him, sliding his hands down her back. “I don’t think we need to settle everything tonight.”
“What
do
we need to settle?” Her back had tensed a little under his hands.
“I’m not sure.”
It was strange, she thought, how serious it had gotten so suddenly. Frightening, almost, but not quite. She wanted to plunge back into that kiss they’d started, but she wasn’t sure if that was allowed by Rey’s rules. On the other hand, she wasn’t sure the rules were any use at all.
“We still have it,” she said. “You can’t deny that.”
“Still have what?”
“That thing.”
“What thing?”
“That thing that makes me wobbly when you kiss me. That makes me hot, and wet, and makes me want you inside me so badly, I can hardly stand it.”
She wasn’t sure if his smile was loving or just plain smug. But it faded before she could be sure. “Is that enough?” he asked.
“It’s a start.”
It would have been easy, she thought, to dive right back in. She knew what he could do to her, knew how much she wanted that. But she also knew how much it hurt to lose it.
“I think I remember what came next in the procedure,” she said.
“Promises?”
“Right.” She scooted a little farther back, putting more space between them. She needed it, to clear her head. “Grievances, then promises.”
“You start.”
After a moment of consideration, she said, “I promise to stop trying to find all the hidden meanings in what you do and don’t do.”
He quirked an eyebrow at that, but made no comment. Which was good, because comments weren’t allowed right now. “I promise to pay more attention to what’s going on with you, regardless of whether I understand it.”
How had they gotten so insightful all of a sudden? Maybe their long separation had taught them something, after all. If nothing else, it had given them plenty of time to reflect on what they’d done wrong.
“Do I do another one?” she asked. She couldn’t remember what the procedure had said.
“Yes, but it has to be something you want me to do.”
An interesting and logical twist. Something a lawyer would come up with. “Okay … ” She thought for a time, working her way past the flippant answers to something that would actually make a difference. “I would like you to promise to ask me once in a while how I’m feeling, in case I forget to tell you.”
“That’s good,” he said, “because I want you to tell me.”
“I’ll try.”
Reaching for her hands, he lifted them again in his. “One more thing.” He cleared his throat. “‘Faithful and true, I love only you, now and forever, forsaking you never.’”
The words made her want to smile and cry, made her heart feel light with joy and weighted with love. “‘With your hand in mine, everything will be fine, for where there is love, God smiles from above.’”
His laugh fell like warm rain. “Whatever possessed us to write our own vows? We were terrible poets.”
“But we meant them, didn’t we?”
“Yes, we did.”
“And I mean them again now.”
Leaning toward her, he spoke against her lips. “Me, too.”
But she ducked back, away from his kiss. “I’m sorry. I don’t know if this is allowed. Are we still following the procedure?”
“This
is
the procedure.” And he dipped his head again and kissed her so thoroughly she couldn’t fight it anymore.
He slid his hands up her body, and a moment later he had rolled her backwards, pressing her down into the bed.
“This is Phase Two,” he muttered into her ear. “Are we done with Phase One?”
“Stick a fork in Phase One, it’s done,” said Joely, and grabbed him by the hair and kissed him hard.