The Secret He Keeps Page 23

  He led her to the bathroom. Funny how it was the one in his bedroom. She shut the door and sucked in while she shimmied down her jeans. The dried blood pulled from her cut. It hurt like a mother fizzer. She sat on the edge of his tub and put her foot on the counter, to get a good look at it. There was definitely a gash. From what, she wasn’t sure. But it was still trickling.

  There was a knock on the door. She wasn’t ready for an audience. “It’s a small cut. I’ll be fine.”

  She spoke through the wooden door, the only thing that kept them apart. Her resolution to remain friends had been tattered at the party and she was unsure where her defiance had crept to.

  “Can I come in and clean it for you? I have bandages and peroxide. I swear that’s all I’m going to do.”

  Moments passed before Rachel answered. “I guess, but I’m all right.”

  Dane went inside with his washcloth, a box of bandages, and a pair of sweatpants. He stopped short when he saw she had taken off her pants and they lay on the ground beside her.

  She looked at the inventory of supplies he was holding.

  “I couldn’t have you wear the jeans. Your leg would stick to the blood.”

  She remained on the edge of his tub as he poured warm water on the cloth. It was rather uncomfortable being half-dressed in light of what just happened. But Dane got on his knees and pressed the warm cloth gently on her wound. He was so gentle in his motions. She saw he was looking at her legs. He hesitated, not moving the cloth from the original position.

  He leaned over and kissed her calf, inching his way to her thigh. She put her hands on his head, holding him back from continuing. He ignored her and pulled up her shirt, kissing her stomach. With a weak touch, Rachel pushed again. Her head fell back to a position of ecstasy and her eyes shut. He continued upward toward her breasts. She took a deep breath as he kissed both of them, taking his time. He reached her lips and slowly she opened her eyes. He was staring at her. Her constitution was broken. He had penetrated her defenses. He took her by the hand and led her to his bed. She shut off her mind and followed him.

  The hallway light shone into the darkness of the room and she lay there, watching him remove his shirt. One button at a time. His eyes never left hers. She pulled her shirt over her head, throwing it to the floor. He undid his zipper and kicked his pants to the floor before he straddled her. She touched his warm body, feeling his muscles swell as he pleasured her.

  After it was over, she waited until she heard his breaths deepen into slumber. She pulled away from his hold and crept to the floor, where she found her clothes. Her knee stung as it hit the carpet. She gathered them up and took them to the bathroom where she quickly dressed, refusing to look at herself in the mirror. She knew that night would come back to sink its teeth into her later. What in the hell had she just done? Her body had betrayed her while her mind was now chastising her.

  Praying that the hinges were oiled, she slowly opened the door. As she stepped from the darkened room, she shrieked. “Dane, what in the world are you doing?”

  He stood in front of her, wearing his boxer shorts and leaning against the doorframe. “Don’t you think I should be asking you the same thing?”

  She clutched her bra like a fugitive making a prison break. “I’m going home. I have to get up early to finish packing.”

  He refused to move. The stillness hung around them like a bad odor. One of them had to make the first move. “I feel like we need to talk, Rachel.”

  “No, we don’t.” She just wanted a quick exit. She would formulate her words in her own home, in front of her own mirror, using her own curse words.

  “I think we do.” He was not moving.

  Stuck in the doorway of the bathroom, Rachel searched for the magic words to get him to move. “Dane, it’s late and I want to go home. Please let me.”

  “You could spend the night and go in the morning. I don’t think you’re in any shape to drive.”

  “I’m sober, Dane. Trust me when I say that. I want to take a shower and lay in my bed. I need to go.” Anxiety welled up in her like a twenty-foot wave.

  He backed away and let her go. She moved past him, closing her eyes as she did. Things would never again be the same. She made it downstairs to her shoes and coat. He stood behind her with crossed arms. She tried not to look directly at him.

  “I don’t know what to say.” She clutched her coat closed.

  “How about…” He didn’t finish. “Nothing—just go.”

  “Dane, I knew this would happen if we did anything like we just did.”

  “Well, damn, Rachel. Forgive me for being just a tad bit pissed, but I just spent the best time ever, or rather, experienced making love with the woman of my dreams, only to wake and see her fleeing like an escapee. I sure didn’t see it coming.”

  “I’m anything but the woman of your dreams, Dane Stone.” She finally looked at him. “And furthermore, what did you think would happen? Did you think we’d just ride off into the sunset together? Spit on Scott’s memory? You were his best friend, Dane. I was his wife.” She shook her head and threw up her hand. “I’m confused right now. I have to go. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She pulled the door open and disappeared into the darkness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Going Home

  Dane called Rachel the next morning to check to see whether they were still going. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she didn’t answer the phone. She was pretty outdone by what happened when she stormed out of his house. He wasn’t necessarily outdone by the act; in fact, he was more lovesick now than he had been watching her day after day and not being able to touch her. He was merely concerned by her reaction. Could she ever get past what Scott and she shared once and give him a chance? He stayed up all night tossing and turning—smelling the sheets, smelling her and knowing he had her so close. He just hoped she wouldn’t retreat again from him.

  She answered on the fourth ring.

  “Hey, Rach. I was just calling to see when to come and pick you up.” He swallowed hard, waiting for whatever response she was going to give.

  “Come around ten thirty. We don’t know how packed the airport will be.”

  Typical. She was going to ignore it ever happened. She did this with everything. When her first dog, Molly, died, she came into the office the next morning and never said anything. Scott told him when he brought her lunch and checked on her. When Dane paid his condolences to her, she looked at him as if he were tripping on acid. Rachel always pushed away things that seemed to matter the most.

  “Can I come earlier? We can talk about last night.” He might be tempting fate by asking, but he didn’t want whatever stage they had moved to to disappear. It needed to keep moving in the right direction. The worst she could do was ignore it.

  “Can we just put that discussion on hold until we get back from this trip? I don’t want any funny tension.”

  Funny tension? Was she serious? Unbelievable! This was going to be no different than her deceased dog. The girl was going to drive him crazy. “I would like to come over and—”

  “Dane, please, for me?”

  He could hear the begging and pleading in her voice. The last thing he wanted to do was push her into a corner, especially with how much progress they’d made. He’d simply find a way to bring her around slowly. Before she knew it, he’d have her discussing the elephant that was always following them around.

  “Okay, sure. I’ll see you soon.”

  He picked her up at ten thirty sharp. She was coming out of her house, holding two bags. One was bigger than the other. He ran up to the porch to help her to the car with them. She looked troubled. Faint, dark circles sat beneath her eyes. They looked a little bit puffy, too. He wanted to hold her and tell her it would be all right.

  She flashed him a shy smile and locked her door. The cab pulled up in front. They decided not to leave his car at the airport. It was just as easy to take the taxi.

  They sat on thei
r respective sides; she mostly looked out the window and he stared at her hands resting on her lap. It should be so natural to take one of them to his lips and kiss it. After a night of intimacy, it should be normal to sit leg-to-leg, smelling her hair and smiling into her eyes. Instead, he rubbed his knuckles and clenched his jaw.

  “So, I’m sure your mother is counting down the hours. You did tell her I was coming, didn’t you?” He finally said something to break the silence.

  She stared straight ahead. “Yes, I told her. She’s been up since early this morning, baking. You’ll put on some weight before the trip is over.”

  She sounded like a voice recorder. Completely bothered by what happened. Maybe she wasn’t ready for it. He was beyond ready.

  The plane ride was no different. She moved her legs politely for him to get out and go to the bathroom, and offered him her peanuts. She hated peanuts. He already knew that.

  They found their bags and walked through the airport in search of her brother. All the while, he was dying inside to touch her again.

  ***

  She’d never been so miserable in a plane before. Or in a taxi. Or sharing the same air space as Dane Stone. Never would she look at him in the same way. Every time her eyes would drift to him, all she could remember was how his lips felt on her skin. How his forceful hands felt rubbing against her body. She had to recite the names of all the bones in the body just to silence the images of the night before, flashing like road signs in her brain.

  Why exactly was she bringing him home with her? Oh yes, so they could just get over this little mishap quickly. To let him fester at home would mean he would want to talk about it when she got home. This way, they could ignore it immediately and be done with it in time for the New Year. And just like those resolutions, that night in Dane Stone’s bed would be an afterthought of one crazy night long ago.

  Chris snuck up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned and he grabbed and hugged her, swinging her around in a circle.

  Gosh, she’d missed him. She pressed her eyes tightly together, wanting to cry. She felt as if she were on an emotional roller coaster and she couldn’t get her seat belt unfastened.

  “Hey, big sister.” His eyes reminded her of Ruthie’s, big and brown.

  “Hey, little brother.” She looked over at Dane. “This is Dane. He’s my associate.”

  Shit, shit, shit. F-up number two. Number one was sleeping with him. Associate? Oh, by the way, we were both naked in bed not more than twelve hours ago. Associate? Really, Rachel? Why don’t you just rob him of his manhood right here and now in front of all these holiday travelers? She sighed.

  “Hey, man.” Dane shook his hand, giving Rachel a look she all too well knew the meaning behind.

  “Well, we better get going. Mom’s chomping at the bit waiting to see her little girl.”

  Chris carried Rachel’s bag and Dane gave her a few more looks on their way out of the airport. This little project of ignoring the history of the bedsheets would be a little trickier than she imagined. Especially with someone who she didn’t feel was going to be easily ignored.

  “You sure are brave to be traveling with this girl,” Chris said to Dane. “She warned you about the family, right?”

  Dane looked a little confused. “I’m not sure. What do I have to be warned about?”

  Rachel smacked Chris on the back of the head. “Don’t listen to him. We’re no less crazy than other people.”

  “I’m just messing with you, man. Mom will be a freak show now that Rach has brought someone home. It’s good you could make it. I hope you survive.”

  Rachel’s mother delivered on her promise. The house smelled like pine and the tree was still up. The branches were drooping from the ornaments and lack of life. Maybe that smell of pine came from a bottle. Nancy usually bought her tree after Thanksgiving. There were some brown spots, too, that Rachel noticed.

  “Come let me see my baby girl.”

  Nancy Boyd ran out from the kitchen when she heard the door slam, in search of her long-lost daughter. She pressed the air from Rachel’s body. Dane stood back, holding his bags, and watched the reunion. She moved back, holding both of Rachel’s hands, getting a better look at her girl.

  “My goodness, you’re a picture-pretty beauty queen.” She glanced over to Dane. “Well, I remember you, Dr. Stone. Come on over here and get your hug.”

  “Hi, Nancy. It’s good to see you again.”

  “You’re looking more handsome than ever.” She grabbed his chin. “And look at this. I love it. It adds more sexiness to you.” She looked at Rachel. “Don’t you think so, Rachel?”

  “Sure, Mom.” She pretended to be looking at the pictures on the mantel. Ruthie was one of them. Seeing her big sister made Rachel sad.

  “Well, y’all can take your bags upstairs and get settled. I wasn’t sure if you were sharing a room or…” She waited for someone to interject something.

  “Yes, Mom, we’ll be needing two rooms.”

  “Well, I don’t know, Rachel. You never confide in me and tell me anything. And then I hear this fine-looking doctor is accompanying you home?”

  Rachel caught Dane looking at her as she led the way up the stairs. And the horror begins.

  “You can take this room.” She stopped at the first one on the right. “I’m going to take my bags to my room. Go ahead and unpack. I’ll hang up my blouses and be back to get you and we can go down for dinner.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to share rooms?” A bad boy smile lit his face.

  She stared at him, wanting to say something. But what? “I’m sure.”

  ***

  Rachel enjoyed the home-cooked meal of her mother’s. She was surprised she’d only invited Aunt Fran and her uncle. Luckily, they had to get home to watch Bones. It was a rerun, but they were new watchers to the show. It was one of their weekly highlights. Another one was eating once a week with Nancy. Rachel was happy her mother wasn’t lonely. All of her friends were nearby and kept her busy.

  “You two go in by the fire and relax. Chris and I will have this mess cleaned up in no time.”

  Chris glared at her. He hated getting picked for dish duty.

  Rachel didn’t want time alone with Dane. The plane ride was bad enough. She’d pick dishes over the question of what would happen in the other room. “Mom, I can help.”

  “Good. I’ve got to go to Joey’s house.” Chris put down the plate he was holding and bolted to the back door.

  Dane stared at Rachel. He knew why she chose to wash dishes. He wasn’t stupid. “Nancy, why don’t you and I go have a moment in the living room? I’m sure you’re tired from all that cooking, which, by the way, was superb. Rachel loves doing dishes. Don’t you, Rach?”

  She smiled a lovely, little I’ll-get-you-later smile. “Sure. You all go right ahead.”

  Rachel couldn’t tell you the first thing about what she was doing in that kitchen. From the moment she’d left Dane’s house, all her mind focused on was him and what they did with each other. And how it could never happen again. And what it was going to do to their professional relationship. She could kick herself for falling prey to alcohol and whatever happened. But the more she thought about it, the more tingly her stomach became. And then the tingles turned to straight-edged razors of guilt, stripping away at her insides. Seeing Scott’s face and having to tell him in any mirror she looked at long enough why it happened.

  Finally, she finished and wiped her hands on the towel by the sink. She turned off the light in the kitchen and walked to the living room. Her mother sat beside Dane on the loveseat with scrapbooks spread out on the coffee table, pointing to pictures of Rachel. Baby years to ugly years. How freaking embarrassing. “Lord, Mom, what are you doing?”

  “Oh, just showing Dane some adorable pictures of you. That’s all.” She beamed with pride.

  He looked up from the pages and gave her a grin. “Rachel, I didn’t know you wore braces. And look here.” He pointed to a pictu
re of her. “You have pigtails. I didn’t know you were such a fan. Weren’t we just talking about pigtails?”

  “I’m not. Now, put the books away, Mom.” She shot her mother a pleading look that if she ever loved her, she’d do it and fast.

  Her mother started closing the ones on the table. It probably didn’t matter. He’d already seen enough greasy-headed pictures and underwear poses that she cared to think about.

  “Come sit beside me.” He patted the couch cushion.

  She didn’t know what he was up to and she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to handle whatever it was. “I’m actually going to give Collette a call.”

  “Oh, Rachel, call her later. Come and sit next to Dane. I’m going to put these away in my room.”

  Her mother stood and scooped up the books, carrying them out of the room. Rachel took a seat next to him, making sure to secure at least four inches between them. “Dane, whatever you want to say, I’m just not ready to talk about it.”

  “We don’t have to. Let’s not say anything about what happened and just move past this awkward stage. The one where you’re not sure if you can be with me or not. Once you get past it, we’ll be fine. You won’t feel guilty anymore and we can be happy.”

  “I see.” She looked straight ahead. There was no way she could look into his eyes.

  “So would you like to move your things to my room, or would you like me to move mine to yours?”

  She shook her head up and down. “I see. So you’re pretty sure of yourself, are you? You think it’s possible to ignore the fact that I married your best friend? The same guy we both hung out with and turned kabobs over the grill on Sundays, and toasted our wedding anniversary at that awful restaurant on the bay? You and me?” She pointed to both of them. “Together?”

  He rubbed the front of his pants and stared at the carpet. “I think we both have feelings for each other, Rachel. And I think if Scott had one more chance to visit us from the grave, he would tell us it was okay.”