The Love Triangle (BWWM Romance) (13 page)

And when I needed to be alone he left me alone. It happened a lot more than I thought was appropriate, but he didn’t fight me on it, even though I knew he was upset about it.

I wanted to take a drive with him this weekend just to get out of the house. Just to spend some time with him away from everything that seemed to always get in the way. I wondered why I’d never noticed before how much his work was a part of his life. Of our lives, I corrected myself. I hadn’t noticed before that he was married to his job. Maybe it didn’t bother me then. Why did it bother me now?

After everything, pushing myself to try and be what he needed me to be, my own efforts to get back to a point where I understood my own decision – the only thing I felt when he told me he had to leave for work this weekend, was relief.

He was only going to be gone for two days. But it was two days of freedom for me. Two days where I didn’t have to feel like I was trespassing in someone’s house, where I didn’t have to feel like I had to tiptoe around the facts of the past, around his feelings.

Everything was awkward with him. Maybe I was making it awkward. Or maybe it was because I was pushing for something more than was real for me right now. No one could force a relationship. It was why I hadn’t settled for either of the men as far as I could remember.

As much as Elijah was a thrill because he had an edge of danger to him, Justin was the valiant cowboy. It was difficult to say no to either of them. I always felt torn because there were parts of them I still didn’t know, parts that I still wanted to find before I made my decision.

At least, that was where I still was. Apparently I’d already made my decision. I’d chosen Elijah. But I still wanted Justin. I still wanted to find out more about him, find the parts of him that made him Justin. I leaned toward Justin in my decision. How could it be that I’d ended up with Elijah instead? There was nothing wrong with him. He just wasn’t… Justin.

I couldn’t make it work in my mind. I couldn’t figure it out. Why hadn’t I just chosen Justin from the start if I was so sure that he was the one I’d wanted to be with? Why had I kept trying with Elijah?

I knew the answer to that. I liked who I was with both of them. They each brought a side out in me that I liked. With Justin I was allowed to be the damsel in distress, the woman that needed rescuing. It was okay to not be okay. It was okay to need help. It was okay to need a man in the same way a man needed a woman.

With Elijah it was the opposite. He expected me to be independent, fierce, a go-getter. And a part of me was. A part of me wanted to give him exactly that.

I woke up and heard Elijah walking down the hallway. The sun wasn’t up yet, but there was a hint of dawn. His flight was very early. I listened to his low voice, talking to the housekeeper who had to be up when he was up. And then I heard the front door open, and close again a moment later.

His car started with a quiet hum and then I heard him reverse, turn around, and then drive down the driveway. I couldn’t hear the car by the time it reached the gate, but I knew he had gone.

I sighed, feeling that same sense of relief I’d felt last night when he’d announced he was leaving, and closed my eyes, letting sleep pull me back under.

I woke up a lot later. The sun glowed against my white drawn curtains and the room was hot, like the sun had baked against the window for a while. I got out of bed and walked barefoot down the hallway. The cook had left a tray with a silver dome on the counter for me.

When I lifted it up, it was a breakfast quiche, some yogurt and fruit, and orange juice. It was all very fancy. I was still trying to get used to how I was being treated here, like I was a guest in a five star hotel. I was still trying to figure out how I’d been comfortable with this before.

I’d just started eating when my phone rang. It was Justin. I knew he didn’t want me. I knew that I’d rejected him. But I got butterflies in my stomach and I pressed the talk button, swallowing the contents of my mouth in a lump.

“Hey,” I said and tried not to sound like I was overjoyed he’d called.

“How are you doing?” he asked. We hadn’t spoken since the night at the hotel.

“I’m okay. Better, physically. Not much else to report, no new memories. Or should I say old memories.”

“That’s good,” he said, and I could picture him nodding his head the way he would if we were standing face to face. “I mean that you’re doing better. Physically Not about the memories.” He cleared his throat. We sounded like teenagers.

“How are you holding up?” I asked. Anything to make conversation.

It seemed like a silly thing to ask. I’d dumped him, and he’d made it clear that he didn’t want me. But I didn’t know what else to say. Telling him I missed him didn’t seem like the right thing to do anymore.

“I’m alright, business as usual at the ranch and that keeps me busy,” he said.

I nodded too, even though he couldn’t see me. I wanted to talk, really talk. I wanted to be able to have a conversation without things being so damned strained. I wanted to know if he was still the man I thought he was, if he still thought I was the same girl. But there was an awkward silence.

“I’m home alone this weekend,” I said, and kicked myself immediately because it came out wrong. “I mean, I just… shit.”

He chuckled on the other end of the line, a sound that was so familiar it made my chest constrict.

“It’s okay. I didn’t take it that way.” He took a deep breath, hesitating. I waited for him. He was quiet for long enough that I wondered if he was still there.

“I really wish we could just sort out what happened,” I said. “I don’t even know, and I feel like I should feel guilty, but I don’t know for what.”

“You don’t have anything to feel guilty about,” he said. “These things just happen sometimes. I mean, you’re happy, right?”

He didn’t say it in a way that was really a question, but I started crying. I wasn’t happy at all.

“Grace?” he asked. I tried to swallow my tears.

“I have to go,” I said with a thick voice and hung up. I pushed the breakfast away. I’d lost my appetite. I walked to the bedroom and fell onto the bed, feeling sorry for myself.

I buried my face in my pillow and cried like a teenager over a broken heart I couldn’t remember, over a man that didn’t want me anymore, over a man that wanted me that I just couldn’t see to love anymore.

The housekeeper called me over an hour later.

“There’s a visitor for you,” she said.

“Me, not Elijah?”

“Mr. Wilson is out of town. It’s for you. He’s waiting in the hall.”

I got up and checked myself in the mirror. The bruise was gone. The lump where I’d been hit in the accident had subsided without bruising and it was only tender when I touched it. I didn’t wear any makeup and I wasn’t going to put any on. I was still in my pajamas, a white satin top with lace trim and spaghetti straps and lace and satin shorts to match. I pulled a wine red robe over it. It was short sleeved and reached halfway down my thigh.

Justin stood in the entrance hall with his hat in his hand hanging by his thigh, other hand in his pocket. He wore his usual faded jeans and a light brown cotton shirt with buttons. He looked like a modern cowboy. His hair was tied back in a low ponytail.

He was looking at a painting, some scenery in Europe.

“Justin,” I said and he turned around. His eyes were a soft blue, and he smiled at me but he looked unsure. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I shook my head. “You didn’t. It’s not you, it’s me.”

He took a step closer to me and I stopped breathing. I hadn’t had him this close to me voluntarily since I arrived at Elijah’s house.

“I miss you,” I said in a low voice before I could stop myself.

“You can’t mean that,” he said, but it sounded like a question not a statement.

“I know. But it’s true. I don’t remember leaving you. All I know is that I love you, and I’m not allowed to see you anymore. There’s no closure. I wanted you to tell me what had happened so I had closure. Everyone else is moving on with their lives and it’s not over for me.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. His eyes were full of emotion, full of memories of us that he had and I’d forgotten. Finally he looked down at his hands.

“It wasn’t really over for me, but you made your choice,” he said. “You chose Elijah, and I had to walk away. This is just the same thing, but the other way around.”

“But I don’t want to walk away, Justin. I don’t remember walking away. And if I had to choose right now, it wouldn’t be Elijah.”

“Dammit, Grace,” he said, and for a moment he looked angry. His eyes darkened to a deep blue, like the ocean, and his voice was thick with emotion. Before I knew what to do with this sudden display of emotion, he put both his hands on my cheeks and kissed me.

The moment his lips touched mine it was like an electric shock traveled through my body. I sighed against his lips and put my hands over his before sliding them down to his wrists.

His kissing was soft and gentle, like he was re-exploring me, getting to know me all over again. His lips were soft and coaxed my mouth open before he slipped his tongue into my mouth. He tasted lightly of sweat and Justin, the taste that didn’t belong to anyone else. There was never alcohol on his breath, and after spending so much time with Elijah it was a relief. It felt like I could breathe easy again.

He slid his hands down onto my shoulders and I let go of his wrists to allow him to move. He moved one hand behind my neck and the other he moved to the small of my back. He pulled me closer, pulled my body into his until we were so close we couldn’t get any closer. My breasts pushed against his chest and I could feel my nipples tightening, moving against the slippery material.

I shouldn’t have done it. I knew I shouldn’t have. I was standing in Elijah’s house while he was out of town, kissing the man I’d apparently told off. But it felt so right. I hadn’t really touched Justin in too long, and my body ached for him. Having him this close made me feel like I was alright again, like I’d been drowning for days and finally I’d broken to the surface and I could breathe again.

He broke the kiss and looked at me. His eyes were deep and dark, his pupils dilated and the way he looked at me made me feel numb. I slid my hand down his arm and he moved it from my back so that I could interlink our fingers. I laced my fingers through his and tugged on his arm so he would follow me down the hallway.

Somewhere in this house there was a housekeeper and a cook, and there was a gardener outside. I didn’t want them involved. I didn’t want them to know what I was doing.

I led Justin down the long hall and into the spare bedroom where I’d been staying the past week. I closed the door and locked it, and drew the curtains.

“You look like you have an agenda,” he said. His words stung and I turned around to look at him. It must have showed on my face, because his face changed, turning soft and apologetic.

“I was joking,” he said softly. I shrugged. I already felt like a bitch for what I was doing. For trying so hard with Elijah and failing. For being in love with Justin when I wasn’t allowed to be.

“This isn’t the master bedroom,” Justin said, looking around, changing the topic. The room was large, with plush cream carpets and wine red curtains, a matching bedspread and dark brown throw pillows. I shook my head and stepped in closer to Justin, my lips almost against his.

“I don’t stay in the master bedroom,” I said in a whisper against his mouth. He paused for just a second, thinking about it, before he closed the almost nonexistent distance and kissed me again.  I didn’t know if it was because of what I’d said, or if the atmosphere had just become so charged, but we were in the bedroom together, and I didn’t want to stay away from him anymore.

He pulled at the ribbon that tied around the robe and the bow untied easily. The robe fell open. I tipped my shoulders back and it slid off and onto the floor. I stood in front of him in just satin pajamas. The material traced my breasts and my hard nipples. Justin glanced down and his lips parted slightly. His eyes were full of lust when he looked back up at me.

I stepped into him again, my body pressed up against the length of his body, and I could feel him pressing against my hip, hungry and hard.

His hand slipped in under the satin shirt and his fingers found my nipple. He tugged gently at it before taking it between his thumb and forefinger and rolling it. My body responded, tightening between my legs, and my breathing sped up.