Reconcilable Differences: A 'Having It All' Novel (20 page)

But those were her darkest days. Did she really want him
to know that about her? She’d never told anyone, except Rose and now, Alexa.
Certainly not Jay, or any other lover. Easier, in fact, far better, to walk
away now. She might be healthy now, but somehow, when it came to Simon, she
felt so fragile. She could never allow herself to be that vulnerable again.
Every moment she spent with him brought those memories closer and made them
more visceral, less abstract. They would always be a part of her, she realized.
How could she ever trust her own attraction to him? Her motives would be
forever muddled in her mind. She would be better off a long way from him, and
he would be better off without her, she thought as she finally drifted back to
sleep.

The second time she awoke, for the moment forgetting the
dream, it was because something was brushing softly against her thigh, tickling.
Calm now, she opened her eyes slowly, taking in the clean, bright square room.
She tried to understand where she was. Soft brown walls, bright white ceiling
and trim, sheer luminous curtains in the large, traditional window to her side,
billowing gently in the warm air rising from the heat register. In the center
of the ceiling, an elegant, old-fashioned Depression glass and bronze light
fixture hung, partially obscuring a white plaster medallion. Simon’s bedroom,
she realized, the night before flooding back in awesome detail. It– Simon’s
cat?– tickled her again and she reached down to touch it. Instead, she found
her hand suddenly in a warm firm grip.

“Don’t touch that unless you’re prepared for the
consequences.” Simon’s hoarse, sleepy voice, warm against the top of her head,
contained laughter.

Oh!

“I thought you were still asleep.” He released her hand
and she felt the weight of his arm across her as he pulled her, rolling her
body toward him, his hand gliding down her bare back to her butt cheek beneath
the sheet, and pulling her tighter. His morning erection, not a cat after all,
was now trapped between them, pressing insistently against her abdomen. A coil
of sizzling heat unfurled in her center.

Tipping her head back, she gazed into his eyes, which
shone a bright, translucent pool blue in the morning sunlight from the window
behind her.

“Good morning, Kate.” He smiled sleepily and kissed her.
Her body took off without her permission, her insides liquefying and boiling,
her heart accelerating, without regard for her earlier resolution. Last night’s
passion reverberated in her veins, and throbbed between her legs.

“Aren’t you worn out?” She smiled.

“Not at all. I’m just getting started. You?” His face
questioning.

“Noooo. Not—” He stole her breath with an urgent kiss and
her heart leapt to her throat, drumming its demands.

He pulled back, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Tell me about the tapestry. The four embraces.”

She scrunched her eyes tight and huffing out a tiny
laugh, smiling. “Er, okay. Let’s see, at the top, there was ‘the twining vine’.
Beside it, ‘climbing the tree’.”

He screwed up his face and rolled his eyes to the ceiling
as if trying to remember the images over the table last night. “Right. I
remember.” He gave his head a little shake, and bent to trail tender kisses
down her neck, and along the top of her breasts.

She shivered, and an arrow of heat shot down between her
legs, pulsing at the memory of their ardor in the night. “In the bottom left
corner, was ‘sesame and rice’, I think, but I’ve never been able to figure out
if they mean plants or food.” She recalled the two recumbent bodies, their arms
and legs tangled.

“Now we’re coming to my favourite,” he said. “It seems
the most romantic. With the woman curled in the man’s lap, their arms enfolded
so tightly.” Simon met her eyes, naked and clear.

“The last one represents ‘milk and water’. It’s the
embrace of a man and woman very much in love. ” Kate recalled the figures’
aquiline noses and foreheads touching intimately, eyes locked, and her heart
squeezed with longing. She cleared her throat, looking away.

“So you’ve taken a course on the Kama Sutra, too?” he
teased, caressing her ribs with a feather light touch.

“Nooo. Just a little light reading.” She smiled, and
could feel the heat rising into her cheeks, competing with the flush that
radiated outward from his fingertips as he traced a delicate line down her
thigh. “Haven’t you? You’re the Eastern mystic.”

“I never considered the Kama Sutra mystical,” he
murmured, his lips against the skin in the hollow between her ribs.

“O-oh. It’s a very philosophical document. It states that
even an ignorant man can gain respect if he knows the sixty-four ways.”

“I see. I’ll have to look into it. Obviously my studies
are incomplete.” He pushed himself up above her, his shoulders and chest
flexing as he nipped at her upper lip, licking and kissing, his need as
demanding and impatient upon awakening as the morning sun straining on the
horizon. Dropping to his elbows, his mouth moved down her neck and throat to
lick and nibble her breasts, and in seconds she was moaning with pleasure and
arching in anticipation as he slid slowly inside her. Every cell of her skin
where they touched ignited. Her body was awake and alive and aching for his in
a way she hadn’t known for years and years. What was it about him that
unraveled her? He was refreshed, and his stamina renewed. They made love
languorously, luxuriously, savouring each delightful sensation their bodies
created in each other, and came together in a long, slow breathless crest of
satisfaction, his blue eyes dark and intense on hers.

Afterward, they remained joined, legs tangled, their
breath mingled, panting, grinning foolishly until their hearts slowed and they
became drowsy again. “Now we are sesame and rice,” he mumbled, his eyes closed.
They lay motionless in the beam of sunshine that stretched across the creased
white sheets. He caressed her skin slowly, sleepily, exploring each curve and
crevasse, sliding down and then up, teasing her nipples. His interest
quickened, and amazingly she could feel him swell again inside her as he moved
his lean hips and long thighs back and forth. Kate was amazed that Simon seemed
ready again so soon. How many minutes had they lain here? Ten maybe. He seemed
tireless.

“How old are you, kid?” she asked, teasing.

“Um. Ah… thirty… mm… something. I can’t seem to do the
math at the moment.” He chuckled. “I think thirty-five. Yes, that’s it. Is it
important all of a sudden?” He buried his face against her neck and nuzzled,
kissing her earlobe and began to move with a slow, sensuous, liquid thrusting
in and out, gradually quickening his pace and intensity.

“When you used to do this,” she murmured, “I thought it
was just youthful exuberance and virility.” Amazingly, she felt herself
responding to his slow seductive movements, though she was quite certain she
couldn’t move a finger.

He laughed softly into her neck. “Well, I can’t speak for
others. But it’s nothing to do with age.” He raised his tousled blond head and
looked deeply into her eyes, holding her there in a blanket of warmth and
intense yearning. “It’s you, Kate. I can’t get enough. I can’t satisfy my
hunger for you.” He did not look away, with each deliberate thrust taking them
both gradually up and up and up and over, like hawks on an updraft, hovering,
drifting, descending, watching her, making certain she stayed with him beat for
beat, holding her in his eyes.

No one, no one else had ever made her feel this way.

How could she resist the powerful pull of this beautiful,
beautiful man, when
he
was all and everything she had ever wanted? And now, he wanted her too. Or he
thought he did. No. No, she had to be strong. She felt the heat of tears
building in her throat. This had to be good-bye. Her heart squeezed painfully
and tears flooded her eyes, blurring his face. His eyes too glistened with
unshed tears. How could something that felt so right be so very, very wrong?

Afterwards, lying truly spent, Simon toyed with a lock of
her hair, saying nothing for the longest time. “Kate?”

“Mmm?”

“I could get very comfortable with this,” he whispered.

She waited, unable to say anything. Her breath was held
hostage by such powerful feelings, she thought she might be swallowed whole and
carried away, like Jonas in the whale.

“I didn’t think I would ever feel these feelings again,
with anyone. You make me want to take risks, and live again. I feel safe with
you, Kate.”

Kate felt panic rising, washing over her in a wave of
heat and chills, setting her trembling from the inside out. She too felt
something akin to love welling inside her. But it didn’t make her feel safe.
She was too afraid of it to name it. She knew she wanted him; she couldn’t help
that. But she wasn’t naïve anymore. True love, the kind that lasted, if it
existed at all, must be a far heavier, more sensible thing, not this wild,
fluttering flight of fancy that lifted her and threatened to shatter her into
pieces, this desperate consuming need. It was too intense and out of control
for her. These feelings couldn’t be trusted. She didn’t know what this was, but
her pulse raced and she felt the urgent need to flee.

“Oh, Simon. Don’t go there, please.” She pulled away from
him and the spell was broken.

“Don’t run away,” he pleaded softly. “I’m not asking for
anything. I’m only giv—”

She jerked upright, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. “I’d
better go.” She looked around frantically, feeling a sudden need to be alone,
to meditate until she was calm and could gather her scattered thoughts. “Where
are my clothes?”

“What are you doing? Don’t do this.” He sat up and
touched her lightly on the shoulder. “I’m trying to tell you something.”

Kate stiffened, shrinking from his touch. “I know what
you’re trying to say, Simon.” She shot him a hard look over her shoulder and turned
away. “I don’t know if you’re glib, or hopelessly romantic. I don’t know who
you are.” She buried her face in her hands, grinding the heels into her eye
sockets to suppress the flood of hysterical tears that threatened to erupt.
What had she
done
? She’d
been so caught up in Simon, she hadn’t even thought of Jay. How could she do
this so soon after breaking up with Jay? “I do know who I am
not
. I am
not
the girl who loved you
fifteen years ago. I am
not
who you think you want to be with. Neither am I the clinging vine you ran away
from.” Her voice rose and cracked.

Simon bristled and stood up, pulling on his robe, and
stalked around to her side of the bed, facing her. When he spoke, his voice
came out harsh. “Give me some credit for knowing my own heart, Kate. I’m not
talking about the past. We’re not kids anymore.” He huffed out an exasperated
sigh, knelt by her at the side of the bed and looked up, earnest. “I’m talking
about you and me right now, right here.” He took her hand and placed it against
his chest. “Feel this. This is real.”

No. Please,
God, give me strength
.
This intensity of feeling is what she’d felt before. And that was a lie. It was
her undoing.
“You can’t know me. You are just as prone to falling
in love with some abstract notion now as you ever were. It’s love you’re in
love with. You’re fooling yourself. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.
I’m not the answer to your dreams or the solution to your family problems. Get
real. Grow up. What you’re looking for doesn’t exist. And if it does, I’m
certainly
not it!”

Kate didn’t know if she was talking to Simon, or to that
part of herself that wanted to let go and be head-over-heels in love with him
again.

Simon’s face twisted, his mouth puckered as though he’d
eaten a bitter pill. “You’re wrong. It’s you who can’t see the truth. Or don’t
want to, because you’re afraid of something. I’m not a young fool. If there’s
one thing I’ve learned the hard way, it’s that real relationships are a two-way
street. Nobody’s perfect, Kate. But we all need someone.”

Kate closed her eyes. She mustn’t give in to his
arguments, however tempting, however much she wished for a simple, romantic
outcome to this debacle. She couldn’t lose herself in him again.

Kate could not meet his eye, steeling herself, forcing her
will to dominate her heart. She crossed her arms over her bare breasts, one
hand over the pendant at her throat, and turned to face him, her eyes averted,
her jaw jutting. “Look. This was a mistake. A big mistake. With all the baggage
of our past, your fragile family situation, and the added complications of
dealing with conflict of interest claims, we should have known better than to
let this happen. “This situation is impossible. This just can’t happen.”

He seemed to deflate, and she knew she’d trumped him. For
the moment. “It
is
happening, Kate. You can’t stop it. Why don’t you trust me? Trust yourself?
What is it with you?”

She stood up abruptly and yanked the sheet off the bed,
wrapping herself in it and looking away. She held up a hand to silence him and
push away his reaching hand, and left the room determined to find her clothes.

She
saw the hurt in his eyes as she
left, and felt her own aching sense of loss and disorientation. The room was
suddenly airless. She could hardly draw breath. What a fool she was to put
herself in this vulnerable situation. She raced down the stairs, almost
tripping on the sheet she dragged along, and grabbed her strewn clothing from
the living room sofa and floor, searching for her bag. The chaotic scene of
their passionate lovemaking the previous night filled her with panic.
What have I done? What have I started here?
Had she no sense? No self control at all? She found a guest bathroom
downstairs and quickly washed her face, running wet hands through her tangled
hair, shaking it out, putting herself back together as best she could,
painfully reminded of her dream and her furtive dawn departure fourteen years
ago.

When she emerged from the bathroom, she found him
standing in the hall in faded low-rise jeans, bare-chested and bare-footed, his
arms crossed. She could not bear the look of pain and scorn on his handsome
features. “Want some tea?” he offered, his voice flat, and he waited,
tight-lipped.

It was too tempting to go to him, to touch him. He looked
so vulnerable in that moment she could almost forget that it was she who was in
danger. She willed her heart to cease its pounding in her chest. She shook her
head quickly. “I have to go.”

“Don’t leave like this,” he pleaded.

She stopped and drew in a ragged breath. “Please
understand me, Simon. I don’t want to hurt you. I genuinely like you. But this
whole thing has become a confusing mess. We’ve rushed into something without
considering the consequences for who knows what tangled reasons. Our lives are
too complicated. I’m not what you need. And you certainly aren’t what I need.
We can’t go back.” She held up both hands, palm out. “We’re playing with fire
here. You may be willing to take risks with your career, and your family, but
I’m not.”

“You sound just like me sixteen years ago.” His voice was
filled with disdain. “Are you afraid of intimacy? Is that it? Or is commitment
the problem? What’s
your
excuse?

She clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, then met his
with a steely glare. She ignored the voice in her head that acknowledged how
close he’d come to the truth. “You can take it any way you like. It’s irrelevant.
I’m leaving and I don’t want to pursue this.” She sliced the air with her hand.

Stealing a glance at him, she was alarmed by his grim
face and set jaw. His sandy brows were drawn across his eyes, which were ice
cold and flat, as was his voice when he spoke. “I really thought I understood
you. You’re saying one thing but your actions tell me something else. Who are
you lying to Kate, me or yourself?”

The scorn in Simon’s voice rose as his lip curled
derisively. “Perhaps my first impression of you was closer to the truth, after
all. Are you just another cold-hearted woman who only cares about her career?”
His jaw jutted forward.

“Don’t be…” She stopped herself.

Was he trying to start a brawl? She ground her teeth as
her body quivered with tension. Anger grabbed her gut in its fist and crushed
it to pulp. She had a sudden urge to smack that insolent face. She shot him a
venomous glare and turned toward the door, flinging it open with such force it
crashed against the wall. She needed the violence to stay the tears that
threatened to erupt—again. She was crying all the time lately. He followed her
out onto the covered wooden porch, saying nothing. What was there left to say?

“Who’s playing with whose feelings here? Why
are
you still married anyway?
Have you asked yourself that question?” They were both panting and bristling
when she spun away and almost crashed into a young man leaping up the steps.
She gasped in surprise.

“Will!” It was Simon who spoke first, under his breath,
shocked.

“Si-mon.” The man stood to one side, his eyes darting
from Simon’s half-dressed state to Kate and back again. “Good morning?” he
said, a note of concern in his voice.

Simon shot him a silencing look. “Kate. I don’t think
you’ve met my younger brother Will. Will, Kate.” His voice was clipped and he
said no more. Kate imagined how the scene must appear and she glanced awkwardly
at Simon and Will in turn. Though Simon got the edge in height and good looks,
there was a distinct family resemblance.

Simon looked meaningfully at Will past her shoulder.
“Anything wrong?” he said with a tight smile.

“No-oo.” Will glanced uncomfortably at Kate. “Need to
pick up my hockey gear. Got an early game today.” Will smiled feebly at Kate,
but his eyes were searching and curious.

Simon cleared his throat. “Right. Uh. The gear’s in the
garage. I’ll get it out for you.” He turned and strode to the side of the
house. Kate tried to swallow her anger and pretend a calm she didn’t feel, but
she was shaking.

She and Will stood in awkward silence for a few minutes.
Kate sighed. Was there no way out of this ridiculous situation? She glanced
away, scanning the street. Could she just walk off down the street in search of
a bus stop?

Will’s narrowed eyes scanned her up and down, lingering
on her wet hair. “You spent the night?”

Kate lifted her chin. “I don’t see how that’s any of your
concern, actually,” she snapped.

“I look out for my brother. Is that so extraordinary?”

She shrugged and turned her head away.

“You both seem strangely testy for new lovers, if you ask
me.”

“I didn’t. What do you know about it?”

“I know more than a thing or two about Simon’s love life.
He doesn’t
have
one.
The truth is, I’m shocked to find you here at all.” He squinted at her, as
though by sheer dint of concentration, he could glean the facts.

“Perhaps you don’t know everything about him.” Why was
she engaging in a contest with this man? She didn’t know him. She would likely
never see him again. He could think what he liked for all she cared. She glared
at him, tempted to walk away without saying goodbye to Simon, but it felt
wrong.

Will shook his head knowingly. “Simon doesn’t sleep
around. He always puts Maddie’s needs ahead of his own.” His head tilted to one
side. “But it seems you’ve broken the pattern, whoever you are, Kate.” He said
her name meaningfully and cocked one eyebrow in a strange echo of Simon’s
familiar gesture, considering her. “He’s a lonely and vulnerable dreamer. I
just hope he doesn’t get hurt... again." It sounded more like a threat
than a wish.

She bristled. “I assure you that I have no designs on
your brother, who can take care of himself and is fully responsible for his own
vulnerable heart, as we all are. We’re old friends from university.” Will
lifted his eyebrows clearly astonished at this detail. She crossed her arms,
plucking at her pendant, and tapped her foot. “Look, can you just tell him that
I–“

Just then, Simon appeared clutching a hockey stick, a
large duffel bag slung over his shoulder. A ripple of physical awareness shook
her at the sight of his bare chest, his lean hips, and she pushed it away. He
dropped the bag on the edge of the driveway and sauntered up, handing the stick
to Will, and taking in their expressions. “I see you’ve been getting
acquainted. Weren’t you supposed to pick up Maddie?”

Will frowned. His head shook slightly, his eyes
questioning.

“Rachel said she’d called you. Have you checked your
messages?” Simon asked.

“Yeah. I never heard from her. Whassup?”

Simon chewed his lip thoughtfully, his eyebrows drawn. “I
don’t know. She’s been acting weird this week. She’s had Maddie since
Wednesday.”

Disbelief registered on Will’s face. “Wow. That is
weird.”

“Well, sorry to interrupt your musings, gentlemen, but I
really have to push off, so I’ll say good-bye… until Tuesday, then,” she said
brightly, forcing a smile, hoping to escape before any more threats were made
or questions asked.

“Wait. I’ll give you a lift,” Simon offered. Though his
manner was still stiff, he seemed despondent now.

“No, thanks. I’ll walk to the… bus.” She pulled her
jacket closer to her neck, glancing up. The sky was dense and grey, the air
cold and damp.

“It’s going to rain any minute. I’ll take you home.”
Simon insisted testily.

No!
She shook her head, her throat tightening. Kate couldn’t trust herself to be
alone with him just now; her feelings were so conflicted and confused. She’d
surely cry and say things she’d regret. She wanted to throw herself into his
arms and beg forgiveness. She mustn’t even allow such thoughts.

“Hey, I’m leaving anyway. Can I drop you somewhere?” Will
looked at Kate. The look said he didn’t care one way or another, but she sensed
he was digging for more dirt.

She chewed her lip, considered her options: Simon’s
resentful eyes, the dark sky looming overhead, Will’s lecturing. She could
better handle the brother. “Thanks. I’d appreciate it.” She and Simon exchanged
one long hard look before she got into Will’s rusty Dodge pick-up and slammed
the door. She stopped herself from glancing out the window at Simon, and her
chest squeezed with a terrible sense of loss.

Despite Kate’s fears that Will would renew his probing questions
on the way to the bus stop, he said nothing at all, and Kate sat silently,
ramrod straight, staring out the window, wondering about this protective little
brother and his cautionary words. The sooner she got far away from both of
them, the better.

When they finally stopped, he half-turned to her. “I’m
sorry for walking in on your lover’s spat. I know it’s none of my business.” He
stuck out a placating hand. “But you have to understand that my brother hasn’t
dated since the split with Rachel. Not once.” Will squeezed his eyes shut
briefly and shook his head, his jaw dimpling with tension. “I hate it. I
worshiped him, before she brought him down. He might have been anything.” He
paused, and shot a glance her way.

She gaped mutely, shocked.
Is he serious?

“I don’t know what you’re fighting about, but it doesn’t
look like the result of a one-night stand. There’s something more going on
here. I also know that you wouldn’t even be in Simon’s house, or in his life,
if you weren’t someone very important to him.” He paused, and scowled at her,
his teeth worrying his cheek.

She said nothing, but returned his stare.

“I just hope, whatever the problem is, that you work it
out. For
his
sake. I
don’t think he’d survive another heartbreak.”

God save me!
thought Kate as she got out of the truck.
This
isn’t difficult enough. I need guilt on top of everything else.
It
was enough to make her wonder if Simon was the victim and she the villain in
the scene. How would the protective brother feel if he knew that Simon wanted a
relationship, and Kate had shot him down. She knew she was doing a bad thing,
and she was hurting him, but she was doing it for the right reason. Kate just
couldn’t take the risk.