The House on Mermaid Point (28 page)

She awoke to the sound of something hitting her window. She curled into a tighter ball and pulled the pillow over her ears to try to block the sound.

“Maddie?”

She yawned, kept her eyes tightly shut. She had pretty much decided not to ever get up again.

“Hey!” Heavy footsteps sounded on the deck of the houseboat. There was a brisk knock on the outer cabin door. More footsteps.

She flopped over but didn’t open her eyes.

“You’re not still sleeping?” William Hightower’s voice was laced with amusement and feigned horror. “If you don’t get up you’re going to miss the entire holiday.”

She peeled one eye open and saw him filling the doorway, all good humor and spirits and sun-bronzed skin. “What time is it?”

“Time for a soak in the hot tub; it’ll make your arm muscles feel better. And we can see the fireworks all the way up and down U.S. 1 from there.”

She sat up, clutching her pillow against her chest. She had a vague sense of her hair sticking up in multiple directions and could practically feel the imprint of the pillow on her cheek. “Just gimme another hour and I’ll be right with you.”

“Nope.” He pulled the pillow out of her hands. “Come on! You’ll miss the fireworks. I’ve got food and drink ready.”

Both eyes were open now. She saw that he wore only bathing trunks and a smile.

“Just put on a suit. If you’re not there in five minutes I’ll come back and carry you.”

“Fine.” After he left she put on her suit and slipped a long shirt over it. When she got there he was already in the hot tub. A tray with glasses, an open bottle of white wine, and an assortment of paper plates sat near the edge. Her heart stilled at the sight of the bottle and she pulled off her shirt without a second thought and climbed into the tub.

“No alcohol on the island.” It was the first thing she said. “You shouldn’t—”

“I’m not drinking. You are.”

“But—”

“It’s okay, Maddie. Would you feel better if I put it in a Coke can?”

So much for their attempts at camouflage.

“If I can’t keep from drinking every time someone else around me does, then I guess I need to head back to rehab.” He put the wineglass in her hand. “It’s okay. I’m not tempted.” He gave her the crooked smile that made her heart beat faster. “At least not by the wine.”

She took a sip and felt the cool crispness slip down her throat. She tried not to look like she was enjoying it.

“It’s okay, really. I’ll let you know if I have an overpowering urge to wrestle the glass out of your hand and mainline the Chardonnay.”

“All right.” She raised the glass back to her lips. “Today, at least, you seem to be the boss.”

“Good. Then eat up.” He moved the plate of crackers topped with cheese and slices of cold meats toward her. “There’s a frozen pizza if we want it later. I thought you might not appreciate fish tonight.”

“Too true. And I have a steak in the houseboat refrigerator.” She set the wineglass aside and knew that the last thing on her mind was food. Between the jets stirring the warm water around their bare skin, the wine, and William’s proximity she felt simultaneously relaxed and seriously on edge. She leaned her head against the back of the hot tub and let her legs float out in front of her.

They fell silent as they watched the bright yellow sun, lit from within, glowing in the center of a reddening sky.

“So, Madeline Singer, I’ve been wondering. How does a nice woman like you end up on reality television renovating a house for a not-so-nice person like me?”

“Short version or long?”

“I’ve got all night.” He said this simply, but the promise in the words shot goose bumps across her skin.

She told him pretty much everything from Steve’s confession that they’d lost their savings and his job to Malcolm Dyer’s Ponzi scheme to how odd it felt to be single after more than a quarter century with someone. She checked his face occasionally, prepared to stop the moment he began to look bored, but that never happened. He asked questions about Kyra and Andrew and listened intently when she tried to explain how closely linked her fear and excitement over the future were. The sun had sunk out of sight, leaving only a dusty red sky, by the time she finished. She’d consumed almost half the bottle of wine; her body and her mind floated gently. She began to have more sympathy for Kyra’s struggle to resist a handsome celebrity.

William leaned over and brushed her lips with his, a soft exploratory kiss that thrilled and warmed her. “You’re a surprising woman, Madeline Singer.”

She sighed against his lips. “Only because you’ve never spent more than five minutes anywhere near a suburban housewife.”

“My loss.” He kissed her again, more thoroughly this time. She knew she should put some distance between them, but her body seemed to be developing a mind of its own.

“Is it my turn?” she asked when she’d convinced her lips to let go of his. “To ask a question, I mean?”

“It’s your turn for whatever you want, Maddie.” His dark eyes plumbed hers and she wondered what he saw there.

“Tell me why you don’t make music or even listen to it anymore.”

His eyes flared with surprise. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

“I’m trying to learn to be direct.”

He laughed softly, shook his head. His discomfort was apparent. “Short version or long?”

“Up to you,” she said. “But I’ve got all night.”

She watched him absorb this. Watched him run a hand through his hair in a gesture she was beginning to recognize.

“When I was growing up we were poor and my parents were drunk most of the time. It was all I knew. But sometimes, when I was listening to music, I didn’t even notice. I loved R and B, soul, jazz, gospel, country. Didn’t matter. My most prized possession was a transistor radio I got at Goodwill. When I was twelve I saved up every penny I could get my hands on and bought this banged-up old guitar. And I taught myself to play it.”

She recognized scraps of this from the interviews and articles she’d inhaled as a teen, but she’d never imagined the raw hurt in his voice that she heard now. “For a long time the music filled me up, lifted me. Hell, it yanked me and Tommy right out of there.” He smiled sadly. “It was always in my head. And the words? They just came. Like a gift from God that I was too stupid and full of myself to ever question.”

He drew a deep breath and even though he was looking right at her, she knew it wasn’t her he was seeing. “Then I lost my brother. And Susannah. And James, our drummer, who was like a second brother. It’s hard to stand up to the kind of excess we heaped on ourselves.”

She held her breath, not wanting to interrupt the words that poured out of him. She wanted to comfort him, give him something that would take away at least some of the pain, but she just held still and listened. “And then one day when I was thinking the gift was mine no matter how badly I abused it, it was gone. And I knew it was taken away because I hadn’t lived up to it. I hadn’t respected it. I didn’t deserve it.”

She didn’t know what to say.

“I have swallowed, inhaled, and shot up every numbing agent I could think of. I’ve tried to blot out the absence every way possible, but it’s like this big yawning emptiness inside me. As if somebody reached inside my skin and ripped me open and everything important seeped right out of me.” He reached a hand out to trace her cheek with his fingers. “It’s even harder now that I’m sober. Because every beautiful thing I listen to reminds me of what I frittered away.”

She reached for him then, wrapped her arms around him, pressed herself against him. His hands cupped her bottom and he lifted her up so that her legs wrapped weightless around him. “It’s not gone. The words are yours; they came from your heart, not some mysterious place in the universe.” She didn’t know where the assurances came from, but she had no doubt they were true. “You have to stop punishing yourself. You have to believe. You—”

He kissed her deeply, cutting off her words, though she had no idea if that was his intent or if he felt what coursed between them as powerfully as she did. His flesh was hard and slippery against hers. His arms strong as he turned and pressed her up against the side of the hot tub. “Open your eyes, Maddie. I need to be sure you understand and that you want what’s about to happen.”

She looked him straight in the eye and nodded as he slipped the straps of her bathing suit off her shoulders and lowered his mouth to her breasts. “I do.” She said this as clearly as she could while holding on against the sensations that spiraled through her. “I want you. I want you right now.”

Then she closed her eyes and gave herself up to the moment, promising herself that no matter what happened next she would not regret this.

For the first time in far longer than he wanted to remember William woke with a woman in his bed and knew immediately who she was and how she’d gotten there.

Though they’d started in the hot tub with fireworks exploding in the air above them, moved to a pool chaise, then briefly—and unsuccessfully—given it a go in Maddie’s small berth on the houseboat, they’d ended up in his bedroom with a pint of salty caramel gelato and two spoons somewhere close to two
A.M.
They’d fallen asleep around three.

He stretched slightly, inhaled her scent. Madeline Singer had been a major surprise in bed—and not just because she was older yet considerably less experienced than the women he was used to. He’d found her initial shyness endearing; the sweet urgency that had overtaken her, exciting. The sincerity of even her most tentative touch had turned out to be an even bigger turn-on than the confident moves of far more experienced women. He’d felt triumph at her incoherent delight when he’d driven her over the edge and the orgasms had taken her.

Even more shocking was how much being stone-cold sober had heightened the experience. He’d always enjoyed the soft blur and heavy-limbed sensuality that came with the right combination of drugs and alcohol—though it had been a long time since he’d been able to control that mix.

It was eight
A.M.
according to the phone on the nightstand. Daylight suffused the room. But if his erection were to be believed, he wasn’t anywhere near finished with Madeline Singer.

She lay on her side, her back to him, her hair splayed across the pillow. He pulled the sheet up over both of them and fitted himself around her, his front to her back. His arm reached across her waist; one hand cupped her breast.

“Maddie?” he whispered into the curve of her neck. She smelled of salty caramel gelato and him. “You awake?”

“Mm-mm.” Her buttocks pressed back against his erection. “Maybe.” She took a deep breath and her breast shifted in his hand as she turned in his arms. A small smile lifted her lips, but her eyes remained closed almost as if she were afraid to open them. Her shoulders seemed almost as rigid as the part of him now pressing against her leg.

“You okay?” He watched her face. Saw the “tell” of nervousness when she worried at her lip with her teeth. “Seriously, Maddie. Are you all right?”

Her eyes blinked open and swept over his. He wasn’t sure what she saw, but she relaxed in his arms.

“Never better.” She shifted to loop her arms around his neck. “I was just trying to figure out whether you had something in your pocket or you were just glad to see me.” She delivered the line with an intentional breathiness then pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows suggestively.

“Ah.” He smiled and pulled her closer, wondering why he’d never realized humor was an aphrodisiac. Not that he’d ever chosen a partner based on her ability to make him laugh. Though come to think of it many of his partners had chosen him. Or more accurately, set their sights on being able to brag that they’d fucked him. At any rate, he doubted any of them had been old enough to quote Mae West as Maddie just had.

“No pockets to speak of,” he said, teasing her back, “but definitely glad to see you.”

He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. Her eyes widened in surprise; they flashed briefly in panic when the sheet slid off, leaving them naked. He ran his hands down her back and over her buttocks, caressing her lightly, wanting her to be as eager as he was. When her nipples hardened against his chest he lifted her onto his erection and settled her, marveling at how different she was, how amazingly normal. How real. They stared into each other’s eyes as her body slowly received his. “I take it you’re open to a morning ride?” He breathed the words into her neck.

“I am. And I’m grateful,” she said as he began to move inside her. “I was afraid you were going to want to go fishing.”

Afterward he pulled up the covers and fell asleep with her in his arms. He slept deeply, an unfamiliar sense of well-being infusing his dreams. He had no idea how long he’d been asleep when stray sounds began to pierce his consciousness. Pleasantly exhausted, he didn’t hear footsteps approaching. It took a few moments to process what was happening.

“What are you doing in bed so late in the— Oh, sorry!”

Will opened his eyes reluctantly to see Hudson Power standing in the bedroom doorway. Late afternoon sunlight streamed into the room. “Got lucky, huh? What happened?” Hud lowered his voice and moved toward the bed. “Did some unsuspecting tourist float . . .” His eyes opened in shock when they settled on the woman beside Will. “That’s not . . . What in the . . .” Hudson stuttered as if what he was seeing was beyond belief.

“Shhh. You’ll wake her.” Will got out of bed and looked around for his clothes. Which was when he remembered that they’d undressed in the hot tub and never gotten dressed again. He turned his back on Hud and went into the bathroom, where he took a piss, found a dry bathing suit, and pulled it on. He found Hud waiting for him in the hall off the closet staring at him like he’d never seen him before.

“What?”

Hud took him by the arm, drew him back into the bathroom.

“Really, Will!” Hud hissed. “What the hell happened?”

“Are you serious?” Will scratched his stomach then decided to brush his teeth. It seemed fairly obvious to him. “You act like you’ve never walked in and seen me in bed with a woman before.”

“Not a woman like her,” Hud said. “Not a woman like Maddie. How could you do that to her?” He said this as if Will had been caught trying to grope Mother Teresa.

“
Do
that to her?” Will took in his friend’s still-shocked face. “What? You think I hit her over the head and dragged her to my bedroom against her will?”

“Did you?”

“Jesus, Hud. Have I ever had to drag anyone into my bed?”

“So you’re saying she hit you over the head with a club and had her way with you?”

“What is it with the club . . . ? We found ourselves here at the same time with nothing going on and we decided to sleep together.” Will shrugged. “It happens.”

“Maybe to you. But I don’t think that’s the way it happens for her.”

Will wasn’t about to rhapsodize to Hud about how novel an experience he’d just had. None of this, not one bit of it, was anybody’s business. Not even Hud’s. “I’m aware that Madeline Singer is different from other women I’ve slept with, but nonetheless we had consensual sex. There was no coercion on anyone’s part.”

“Right. The woman had a frickin’ poster of you on her wall when she was a teenager. She’s been married and stuck in suburbia forever. All you had to do was crook a finger. She had zero chance of ever resisting your famous ass.”

“You’re stepping way over the line here. And you know what else? For all that you sound like you’ve got some crush going on, you don’t know what you’re talking about. And you are totally underestimating Madeline Singer.”

Hud was pacing the confines of the master bath now. Will had never seen him so worked up. “I’ve known you a long time, Will,” he said. “I’ve seen you fucked up. I’ve seen you self-destruct and do some serious damage to people around you. I’ve seen you piss away a fortune. But I’ve never seen you take advantage of a woman this way.”

There was a thud from the bedroom.

“Happy now?” he asked Hudson like some twelve-year-old caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. He left the bathroom and strode toward the sound, Hud right behind him. “You woke her up. Now you can ask her yourself how badly I took advantage of her.”

As they reached the bed Maddie froze in the bedroom doorway, clearly caught fleeing the scene. She was barefoot and wore one of Will’s T-shirts—it hung down almost to her knees and way past her elbows. Slowly she turned to face them. She had a serious case of bedhead and her lips looked kind of swollen.

“I didn’t want to interrupt your conversation. It sounded somewhat . . . heated.” She looked directly at Hudson. Will almost laughed at the blush that spread across his friend’s face.

“Hud accidentally walked in on us,” Will explained when Hud seemed unable to find his tongue. “And he’s having a hard time believing that you were in my bed of your own free will.”

Her fingers bunched in the fabric of his T-shirt, but her chin came up. “Because?” There was a bit of an edge to the word. Almost as if she were the parent, and they were children. It was all he could do not to hang his head. Hudson wasn’t faring any better. The situation no longer struck him as humorous.

“Because he knows me,” Will said quietly. “And because, apparently, you’re far too classy and intelligent a woman to end up in my bed.”

She nodded but didn’t say anything. She looked at him expectantly, but it had been a night of firsts. And this morning after was even more alien territory. He had no idea what was supposed to happen next. “So . . . maybe you could reassure him that we slept together because we wanted to. That it’s none of his frickin’ business.” He thought for a second and added, “And that it wasn’t all that big a deal.”

She blanched at the last and he thought he heard Hud mutter something that sounded like “moron.”

When neither of them spoke Will floundered ahead. “We had a good time together. Hell, it was . . . definitely better than good. We . . . like each other.” He stopped. Maddie’s face was a bit troubling. It seemed to be sort of crumpling. If he could have gotten rid of Hud he might have salvaged things.

But Hud didn’t move and Will was at a loss. And so even though this was not business as usual, he fell back on what he knew. He distanced himself, pushed her away, which he had no doubt was the kinder, gentler thing in the long run. He was not a happily-ever-after kind of guy.

“It was sex, man. We both enjoyed it. End of story.” He looked Maddie in the eye, looking for agreement. “I don’t really see the problem here. Do you, babe?”