Running Away With You (Running #3) (9 page)

“Cole’s been passed around from team to team in the minor leagues.  He plays triple-A ball.  Evan and Cole grew up more like brothers than cousins.  They’ve always been competitive.  They competed for attention, girls, and sports.  I guess Evan’s slightly ahead in all three categories right now.”  Callie looks over at her little brother and I can see the pride in her eyes.

“Neither one would admit it, but when Uncle Joe moved the family to Bangor while the boys were in high school, they were both devastated.  Cole is a year younger than Evan, and he’s always idolized his cousin.” 

“Damn.  Now I feel even worse.  Evan would probably rather visit his family in Maine.  The last thing I want to do is tear him away from his family.”

“Don’t be silly, Juliette.  Evan’s getting married.  He’s starting his own family.  This is what happens.  But we will be seeing you both at Christmas, right?” she asks Evan directly.

“Mm-hmm,” he mumbles with his mouth full as he takes a second helping of shepherd’s pie.  It might actually be his third helping, I’m not sure.

After our meal, Callie and I clean up while Evan and Dean head into the living room to watch television.  Thanks to Evan, there’s not much left for us to clean up, and when we join the boys they are talking animatedly about the Sentinels’ playoff chances.  Everyone wants to see the team make it to the divisional round at the very least.  If Evan wins his conference title and takes his team to the Super Bowl, it will be the first time ever a rookie quarterback has made it all the way to the big game.  Evan knows the odds are stacked against him, so he’s setting his sights on just making it to the conference championship game.  It would be a real accomplishment if that happens.

In the middle of our discussion, Regan comes toddling down the steps and announces to her mother, “I’m hungry.”  Evan and I take that as our cue to say our goodnights and slip out.  We have a long drive home ahead of us.

E
van has practice today, so I decide to spend the day with Reese.  I’m hoping I can wheedle some information from her.  I still suspect that pregnancy test belongs to either her or Emmy.  What would happen if Reese were pregnant with Derek’s child?  Would she go through with it?  Would she keep it?  She has ambitions and goals, and having a baby right now would not fit her plans. 

We’re going to go food shopping for Thanksgiving dinner.  There’s a Whole Foods store in Red Bank, so we agree to make the drive out there and buy some natural ingredients.  Reese wants to make an organic cranberry sauce and I want to make a ricotta cheesecake infused with chai.  I’d rather not use processed ricotta for something as creamy and delicate as a cheesecake.

I pick her up early at her townhouse.  She found an adorable condo with a detached garage just a few blocks from the boardwalk.  It feels safe and private.  I know she likes it because it doesn’t have the same maintenance requirements a house would.  I just can’t see Reese mowing the lawn or raking leaves.

I knock on her door, and she’s ready to roll.  With her purse in one hand and a shopping list in the other, she hops into the car and we head straight to Whole Foods.  She’s a captive audience and it seems the perfect time to drill her for some information.

“So Reese, how have you been feeling lately?  Is everything okay?” I ask.

“I’m fine.  Why?  Do I look sick?”  She pulls down the visor and starts inspecting her complexion.

“No, it’s not that.  It’s just ... I don’t know.  You used to come in to work early before your shift and hang out late afterward, but I hardly see you anymore.  I thought maybe you were tired or sick or something.”

“Well, I have been a little tired lately.”  She hesitates and I can tell there’s more that she’s not saying.

“Reese, can I ask you something?”

“I guess,” she answers apprehensively.

“What’s going on with you and Derek?  Are you avoiding him?”

She gazes out the window as we drive through town.  With a sigh, she asks, “Is it that obvious?”  She shakes her head and I can see her shiver as a chill runs through her veins.

“Only because I know you so well.  But what I don’t get is why.  You’ve never been one to hide in a corner before.  What’s going on that has you all shaken up?” 

“It’s complicated,” she mumbles. 

“Is that all I get?  It’s complicated?  What does that even mean?”

“It means my relationship with Derek is complicated.  Can we talk about something else, please?”

I guess that’s all the information I’m going to get from her – for now.

As we walk up and down the aisles, I find all sorts of goodies.  There are whole vanilla beans that I cannot find anywhere else.  We find a variety of artisan breads and fresh fruits and vegetables that are not commonly available in our local supermarkets.  Reese insists on buying a free-range turkey, and before long the cart is full and my budget is exhausted. 

When we arrive back at the beach house, Reese and I get busy preparing what we can ahead of time.  My first task is making an apple pie.  Reese busies herself making the stuffing and cranberry sauce.

I take a short break from my baking and put on Sports Center so I can listen to it while we work.  I’ve come to enjoy listening to the banter.  When Evan and I first started dating, I hardly knew anything about professional football, including the main players.  I don’t ever want to be caught in that position again.  When Evan talks about his opponents, I want to know whom he’s talking about.  When we go to social functions together, I want to know a little bit about the people we see there.  And when they talk about my future husband, I want to know what they are saying.

On the way back to the kitchen, I stop at the mini bar and grab the chilled bottle of Pinot Noir that Evan and I opened last night.  I take two wine glasses from the cabinet and join Reese back in the kitchen.  I pour a glass and hand it to her. 

“No, thank you, I’ll pass,” she says.  I look at her suspiciously and she immediately explains, “Red wine’s been giving me migraines lately.  I think it’s probably the tannins or the sulfites.” 

Holy cow!  Reese is refusing to drink alcohol. 

She’s just jumped to the top of my list of suspected pregos.  I’m going to push a little harder, just to make sure.

“I could open a bottle of white wine if you prefer.  Maybe a nice Riesling or Moscato.”  I walk over to the special wine cabinet Evan and I had installed near the mini bar and start checking labels.

“Don’t bother,” Reese calls to me.  “I’d much rather have a glass of sparkling water.  We just bought these fresh Meyer lemons and I’ve been dying to have one.”  When I stand back up, she tosses me one.  “Here.  Slice it up for me, will you?”

“No problem,” I tell her, grabbing the cutting board and paring knife.  I look over at Reese and try to picture her pregnant.  She would probably be one of those women who look even more beautiful while she’s expecting.

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you.”  Reese stops what she’s doing and gives me her full attention.  “You’ll never guess who called me yesterday.”

“Hmm.  Let’s see.  Was is President Obama inviting you to cook for the next State Dinner?”  We used to joke around about cooking for kings and queens some day.

“Not even close.  Who’s the last person you’d want to hear from right now?” she asks.

“My high school calculus teacher?” I jest.  That was the only class I ever got a C in.

“Worse.”

“What’s worse than calculus?”

“Not what – who!  Dickhead called me.  He’s started his own web design company and he’s trying to drum up some new business.”  She laughs as she tells the story.  She loves calling my ex-boyfriend David “Dickhead”.  “Does he honestly believe I’d do business with him after the way he treated you?  What a dumbass!”

“Did he know you’re working in
my
restaurant?” I ask, stunned.

“He tried to play dumb, but it’s pretty common knowledge, Jette. If he’s so damn good at web design, he could have easily figured it out by checking out my Facebook page alone.” 

“He must have known you’d turn him down and I’d never be able to work with him.  So what do you think he wanted?” I ask.

“You.  He was asking tons of questions about you and Evan, and none of them had anything to do with your webpage.”  She stands there staring at me, waiting for a reaction.

“How long did you talk to him?”  I can’t believe she didn’t just hang up on him immediately.

“I let him talk for a while.  I wanted him to show his hand.  And he did.  He couldn’t care less about our web design needs, if you know what I mean.”

“And what did you tell him?” I can’t stand the thought of David inserting himself back into my life.

“Only what he needs to know,” she assures me.

“Which is what, exactly?” I demand.

“Only how happy you are and how Evan is the best thing that ever happened to you.  I told him how Evan takes care of you emotionally, financially, and physically.  And how he’s so devoted to you that he would take a bullet for you.”  She pauses for a moment to let that sink in before adding, “I had to tell him how happy I am that you finally found someone to love you the way you deserve to be loved.  And do you know what he said?”

I shake my head.

“He said he agrees.”

“Do you think he’ll call again?”  God, I hope she says no.  I closed that chapter a long time ago and I have no desire to walk down that particular memory lane.

“Not a chance.”

Spill the Beans

I
awake with a start to the music of my alarm. In a sleeplike trance, I silence it and lie back in bed.  Breathing out slowly and gently, I let my eyes flutter open and the bare white ceiling comes into a softly blurred view, the rising sun transforming its blank color into a beautiful, illuminated glowing canvas.

It is still early in the morning, and far too soon for me to be waking up from my very pleasant slumber. But today is Thanksgiving and there’s much work to be done.  I’m not ready to get up.  Every time I close my eyes I can still see visions from last night.  Evan lustfully looming over me, his weight and sight of his muscular form making me squirm and writhe.

Breaking my reminiscence, I slowly rise, the silken blankets falling from my body as I prop myself up on my hands, leaving me completely exposed. I idly glance at the window, where beams of early morning sunlight escape through the thin fabric, highlighting the bedroom walls with radiant light and dark shadow.

I look at the slumbering mass lying next to me, his angelic face turned toward me, eyes closed, his face without emotion but clearly content.  The blanket only covers his perfect form from the waist down, his strong hand resting on the firm yet soft skin of his belly.  I watch the hypnotic rise and fall of his chest. 

I just gaze at him in awe, reaching out to twirl his smooth chestnut locks between my nimble fingers. I rest my head back on the soft pillow beneath me and move closer to him, just enough that I can feel his warm, gentle breath pan across my face.

Staring down at him, I am left with one thought.  He is perfect – more than perfect.  He is mine, and I adore him with every ounce of my being.

I lightly rest my hand on his cheek and trace the outline of his gloriously prominent jawbone, all the way down to the magnificent hollow of his neck, which I grace with feather-light kisses.

Suddenly I feel the mattress dip as he shifts his weight, instinctively moving closer to my touch. I freeze in position, staying as still as I can, wanting to prolong my pleasurable explorations for as long as possible before he wakes.

Once he settles, I snuggle close to him, resting a hand on his broad chest, and sigh as I brush my fingertips across his glorious pectoral muscles. I lie there, making my fingers dance with dainty steps over the defined contours on the surface of his chest. I wish we could just stay like this; no one disturbing us, a deliciously comfortable silence that I can hold on to forever.

Evan fidgets again and for a moment my heart stops, fearing that I’ve awoken him from his lulled dreaming state. With his eyes still closed, he stretches out his long arms, obviously searching for my sleeping person.  I crawl closer to him as he circles his arms around me, pulling me tightly in to him.  The wicked smile that spreads across his perfect lips makes my heart melt. I cuddle up to him, basking in his gentle silence, listening to his slow, deep breaths.