Breaking Away (45 page)

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Authors: Teresa Reasor

Tags: #Romance, #Military, #Novel

BOOK: Breaking Away
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J
ames drove the car beneath the front entrance awning that stretched out and away from the Bellagio Hotel and Casino. Bellhops stood ready with metal trolleys for the baggage. James hit the trunk release button and stepped out of the car.

A bellhop approached. “Welcome to the Bellagio, sir. May I get your bags?”

“Sure, thanks,” James said. He went around to open Marsha’s door, but she had already shoved it open and stood gazing at the façade and fountains.

“Oh my…” she breathed. “This place is unbelievable.

An arched ceiling decorated by coffered panels stretched toward the entrance. Down the center of the structure, a glass skylight supported by curved, metal struts fashioned in an art Nouveau design, cut a wide swath down the roofline, allowing light to filter beneath. Large lights dangled on each side of the glass in regimented order.

“It is pretty impressive,” he agreed.

He caught Marsha’s hand and they wandered toward the entrance and paused to study the large Chinese dogs guarding each side of the portico. The bellhop followed close behind as they walked across the patterned flagstone walkway and preceded him through the door.

All golds, whites, and maroons, the lobby’s décor projected richness. The hotel had an atmosphere of energy and excitement. Several people checked in, while others wandered through the lobby to the casino or moved in and out of shops off the main thoroughfare. A line of bellhops stood by, waiting with loaded luggage trolleys.

James went to the desk, produced his reservation paperwork and handed over his credit card. He filled out paperwork to have the rental car parked.

“Wonder why we never visited Vegas before?” Marsha asked as they waited for their reservation to be processed.

Though she’d had a couple of moments on the plane, anxiety over Alex mostly, she seemed better, and her appetite had picked up. He’d noticed she’d packed the bottle of antidepressants the doctor had prescribed in her overnight bag. He didn’t know how long she’d been taking the meds, but he saw a difference. It was slow, and she still had moments, but the pills were helping.

“I guess we haven’t come here because we’re both a little conservative about money and we don’t gamble.”

“Speak for yourself. I used to play a mean hand of bridge and win all the time.”

James laughed. “I didn’t realize bridge was a betting game.

“Well, it is the way the girls and I play.” She grinned.

At seeing the genuine amusement in her expression, he experienced the sensation of having just dropped a forty-pound pack from his shoulders. If they weren’t in the middle of a busy lobby, he’d kiss her.

How could he jump out of an airplane into a moonless night sky without reserve and not kiss his wife whenever the hell he wanted to? He looped an arm around her waist to bring her in close against him and pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

She rested her head on his shoulder. “Don’t you and the guys play poker to break up the monotony when you’re deployed?” she asked, picking up a brochure from the counter.

“Sometimes. There are days things will drag and others when we’re busy for several consecutive days and nights at a time. The kind of poker they’d play here would be for high stakes. We might be better off trying the slots, if you want to later.”

“Okay.”

Collecting their keycards from the reservation clerk, James offered the card to the bellhop and the man led the way through the busy casino to the elevators. The conveyance was a work of art, all brass and richly stained wood, and decorated as extravagantly as the rest of the hotel. A rich gold tone threaded through the decor everywhere he looked, with touches of red, brown, and white.

Faced with the baggage cart and several other guests, each having to use their keycard to access their floor, they fell silent while the elevator took them up. The doors opened to a wide hall tiled in gold, black, and white. “Just this way,” the bellhop said and turned to the right. The tile petered out into a red patterned carpet that muffled their steps. He came to a stop before their room, inserted the keycard, pushed the door open and waited for Marsha and James to precede him. After the bags were unloaded, James pushed a five dollar bill into the man’s hand and followed him to the door.

The room, decorated in purples and greens, looked clean and comfortable. The large king-sized bed beckoned. How long had it been since they’d made love? Almost eleven months. He’d had long periods while deployed when he’d gone without sex, but in their married life they’d always had an active sexual relationship. Until Alex’s birth.

Did she still hold him responsible for Tabarek Moussa’s attack? Did she still believe he held her responsible for Alex’s issues? Revisiting those questions had just seemed to make matters worse.

Could they break away from the past and build a life together again?

Marsha stood at the window looking out and announced, “They’re starting the fountain show.” He joined her at the window.

The rise and fall of the synchronized jets of water was entertaining, almost hypnotic. He’d never seen water used as an art form before, but the display was a marvel of engineering. It would be even more impressive at night.

“That was truly amazing.”

“It was. I’ve made reservations at the Eiffel Tower Restaurant for dinner at nine tonight and asked for a window seat. One of my men suggested we see the fountain show from there at night and check out the strip.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“It’s just shy of lunchtime. Let’s get something to eat,” he suggested. “One of the men said the Café Bellagio downstairs is really good.”

“Okay.”

They rode the elevator back downstairs, and on the way out paused to stand under the blown glass garden created by Dale Chihuly which hung from the ceiling in the lobby. Marsha took several pictures with her phone. “This would be nice to have over our bed and wake up to every morning.”

“I wonder what kind of support structure they had to put in to keep it in place?”

She smiled. “Women admire the art, men think of the engineering problems.”

“I can do both,” he said. “Let me find out where the Café is.” He went to the concierge desk and received directions and a map of the hotel.

“The Café is this way.” James rested a hand against her waist and guided her from the lobby to the conservatory. Patterned tile swirled beneath their feet, leading into a fanciful garden that transported them onto the set of the
Wizard of Oz
. They followed the walkway and paused to admire the sculptured snails, butterflies and dragonflies enjoying the constructed habitat, a blend of real plants and artistic artificial displays. In one area, large white cranes stood watch over a nest of eggs. In another, a bed of giant glass poppies mirrored the garden hanging from the lobby ceiling. The blossoms reflected the light entering from the arched Art Nouveau steel roof that had been given a green patina much like the awning they’d driven under when they’d first arrived.

“I wonder how Alex would respond to all this?” Marsha said.

“He loves color. I’ve noticed he likes red. He’d probably be fascinated.”

They circled the entire display before going into the cafe.

The food was as good as he’d been told, and for once Marsha ate nearly everything on her plate. If this increase in appetite was a side-effect of the medication, James was grateful for it.

They decided to walk off their lunch on the strip and left the hotel. They strolled down Flamingo Road and paused to look at Caesar’s Palace across the way. Everything was huge and over the top, but there was something fascinating about it. It was both vulgar and beautiful.

She tugged him to a stop when they reached the strip itself. “I’m glad you made reservations at the restaurant. We have to see all this lit up. If the world came to an end and aliens discovered this place, how do you think they’d react to it?”

“I think they’d shake their heads in bafflement. Just like I’m doing right now.”

She smiled. “But it’s probably something everyone should see at least once.”

“I’d say so. And we can try some of the games in the casino later. Our goal here is just to be together and to see the sights.”

They spent the afternoon wandering down the strip and doing just that then returned to the hotel.

“When is your meeting?” Marsha asked as they entered their room.

“Tomorrow at two. You’re sure you don’t mind doing something on your own while I meet with Flash?”

“Not if you don’t mind paying for a massage at the spa,” she waved the brochure she’d picked up from the desk.

Was it easier to have a total stranger put hands on her than her husband? He knew it wasn’t the same thing, but it still rankled. “Maybe I can give you a warm-up beforehand.” For once he couldn’t read her expression. “I thought maybe a change of scenery and a little romance might help us ease back into making love.”

“So you didn’t just bring me along as cover for the meeting or an afterthought?”

Would she ever believe he loved her? Where had this doubt come from?

“The
meeting
was an afterthought, Marsha. I can’t just jump on a plane and leave the state when I want to. I have to notify people where I’m going and when I’ll be back. It does take the spontaneity out of things, but I was already in the stages of planning a weekend away for us when Flash contacted me. I wanted to take you to San Francisco, but when I got his message—” He motioned toward the window. “I thought why not here instead?” He drew a deep breath to release the angry tension. “I’m spending the weekend with you. At most I’ll be spending a couple of hours debriefing him.”

Why was he always defending himself to her? He didn’t fucking do that with anyone else, not even his commanding officers
. It was stopping now.

She sat on the bed and ran her hands through her hair.

He hadn’t expected things to be easy, but this passive-aggressive bullshit had to end. He sat in one of the green-striped chairs next to the bed and rubbed a hand over his face. The weight was back, pressing down on him physically, emotionally. After an afternoon’s respite it felt even heavier than before. They seemed to have to fight for every step they took forward. It had been so effortless for them before. They had been so blessed and he hadn’t even realized it. He leaned forward in his seat. “I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to think about it before you answer.”

She nodded, though her expression was tense with anxiety. “Okay.”

“Do you want us to stay together as a couple?”

She paused in silence for a few seconds as he’d asked her to do. “Yes.”

“Then it’s time we started being a couple again, instead of two people who live in the same house. I know you’re dealing with a lot. But I went through it too. You know I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and get up to check on Alex and you. There are other things—” he cut himself off and shook his head. “If we can’t bring ourselves to cling to each other, what does that say about our relationship?”

“It says it’s over.”

His heart clenched and for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

Her eyes clouded with tears. “But I’m not ready for that. Not yet. I still love you.”

His throat ached so his voice sounded hoarse. “Why? Why do you love me?”

“Because you
do
slip out of bed in the night and check to make sure Alex and I are safe.” Tears rolled down her cheeks in a stream. “Because you smell so good, even first thing in the morning before you’ve had your shower. Because, even when you’re tired, you come home and do things around the house. Because you brush your teeth before you kiss me in the morning, and you still kiss me even though I haven’t.”

James laughed, the sound clogged by emotion. He shoved himself from the chair and joined her on the bed. He held her. They held each other. The only other time in their married life he’d ever cried was after Alex’s birth. But he struggled not to bawl like a baby now.

He urged Marsha to stretch out on the bed. He tucked her hair behind her ear and waited for her tears to ease, then kissed her even when they didn’t.

“I need a tissue,” she complained a few minutes later.

He rose and collected some for her. She wiped her face and blew her nose. For a time she lay still, her eyes closed and he watched her struggle for composure.

“Do you think we could just take off our clothes and lie skin to skin for a while?” she asked. “I want to know what it feels like for us to have no barriers between us. It’s been a long time.”

“If it’s what you want,” he said, and felt like crying all over again.

“It’s what I want.”

He waited for her to make the first move, and when she rolled off the bed to undress, he did the same. He shucked his clothing, tugged the heavy comforter off the bed, and slid beneath the covers. When she turned to him she wore nothing but a pair of bikini briefs. Though he had slept with her every night, seen her come in and out of the bathroom in her bathrobe or nightgown, she hadn’t allowed him to see her naked. He hadn’t realized how thin she’d become. Her pelvic bones pushed against her skin and her waist seemed only a hand’s breadth wide. He held the covers open and she slipped beneath them. He gathered her close.

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