13

Just as it had in the islands, the plane landed right on time. The sun beat down on the runway. There hadn’t been a single cloud in the sky during the whole flight. It was a good day for being out on the four-wheeler, or for taking the boat out on the water. I had thought of little else on the flight back, but now the doubts assaulted me.

Would Tom be there to pick me up?

What I had done there in that island paradise would hurt Tom so badly. I wasn’t the kind of woman to cheat, and what I had done was enough to flood me with constant guilt. But what had happened in the islands was proof of what I really wanted.

I wanted Tom.

I sat in my seat while those around me pulled their belongings out of the overhead compartments. I had only the small bag on my lap. When there was a clearing in the aisle, I took a deep breath and made my way to the front, trying not to look over at the parking lots one last time for the sight of Tom’s truck.

The flight attendant said goodbye with a plastic smile, and then I was walking down the ramp to the brightly lit terminal, where children were happily reunited with parents and busy executives headed straight to the luggage carousel. Lovers met each other and with kisses and hugs threw themselves into reunions. The occasional traveler wandered slowly towards the doors, in no particular hurry and with no one to meet.

I stood in the middle of the terminal. Alone.

Slowly I scanned every corner of the place, looking hard into the bookstores and the coffee huts, watching for any sign of Tom. I tried not to panic. He knew today was the day I would be back, but his voice over the phone had been so clipped, as if he already knew what I had done – though of course that was impossible. But the doubts still slammed me. Perhaps he wasn’t going to be there to pick me up after all.

‘Hey, stranger.’

I whirled around to see him walking towards me. His eyes were hidden by a baseball cap. His shirt was wrinkled, as though he had just woken up from a nap in the recliner. He strode towards me quickly, without an ounce of hesitation, and swept me up into his arms.

The guilt threatened to overwhelm me.

‘I missed you so much,’ I wailed, and Tom kissed me. I had to fight for breath. Other passengers walked past us and most smiled, seeing what they thought was a joyous reunion of two lovers who had been apart for far too long. And maybe it was that for Tom, after all – but for me it was an exercise in torture. I had the man I wanted, the man I had missed so much, but my actions on that island meant I could lose him before the night was over.

I wondered suddenly if there were any marks on me, any bruises that might give me away. I had berated myself in the bathroom mirror for so long, surely I would have seen them, but still there was a slim chance.

Tom hauled me hard against him and kissed my throat. I closed my eyes and listened to the conversations of thousands of people around us, the booming sound from the overhead speakers, the whine of planes outside the thick glass windows. Most of all I heard the tremble in his voice when he told me how much he had missed me.

‘Let’s get you home,’ he murmured.

We held hands on the way out to the truck. Tom carried my bag and with his other hand kept his fingers linked so tightly with mine that my fingertips tingled. We both remembered the way things had been left between us, and I was determined to make things right. It appeared he was, too.

I wondered how much forgiveness Tom had in him.

He kissed me at the truck, pushing me hard against the side of it, bracing himself with both hands on the bed. He kissed me with all the passion he had in him, and his body echoed the motion of his tongue. He was primed and ready and, if I would let him, he would have me right there, right in the middle of that massive parking lot, and bystanders be damned.

When I climbed into the truck, I pulled him in with me. The door slammed shut behind us. He had brought my truck, the one with the wide bench seat, and I slithered all the way up the leather. He settled right between my thighs.

‘Just kiss,’ I whispered.

And we did, his leg pressed high between my thighs and my hands all over him, necking like teenagers who had just gotten away from the parents. He kissed every inch of skin he could reach, every part of me that wasn’t infuriatingly covered with clothing. He touched me underneath the fabric but didn’t delve too far, knowing that the thrill was in the anticipation and the sweet desire, not in the race to get to the finish line.

‘I missed you so bad,’ Tom murmured. His breath was harsh and what was in his pants felt hard as a rock against my thigh. Spirals of pleasure shot through me, tightened my belly and made my heart race.

I slid my hands under his shirt. He groaned in approval. Already we were drawing stares from passersby and, though I really didn’t care much, it was probably time to get moving before security came to investigate.

‘Let’s go home,’ I whispered.

Tom chuckled against my throat before he rose up and let me wiggle out from underneath him. He slipped the keys into the ignition and took a deep breath to get his libido under control. His jeans were noticeably tight, and his face was flushed with the anticipation of getting home and getting into bed. I smiled at the way he looked.

‘You look so young,’ I said to him.

He revved the engine. ‘You make me feel young,’ he said.

I looked out the window and smiled, trying to fight back sudden tears.

‘What’s wrong, baby?’

I shook my head and looked at him. I didn’t try to hide the emotion. Tom would look at them and think I was just that glad to be home. Surely he wouldn’t see the guilt.

‘I’m glad to be home,’ I said, and it was the truth. I sidled up next to him, foregoing the seat belt for the touch of my thigh against his.

I thought about Michael as we rode. I knew it would be one of the last times I let him take my thoughts away from Tom. This was the kind of thing Michael had done – he had kept a secret from me, a secret quite like the one I had, until it had choked away everything that mattered. It had torn us apart from the inside out.

I would not do that to Tom. I had to tell him.

Soon.

But not right now.

‘Listen, baby, I have to tell you something,’ he said, and he sounded so excited that for a while I completely forgot about what had happened on the island. I gave Tom my full attention.

‘Tell me.’

‘I talked to David yesterday,’ he said. ‘I mean, really talked. We hadn’t talked like that in a long time. He showed up to ask me for money again, and instead of just shouting at him I asked him to sit down and talk about it. And he did.’

I tried to envision Tom and David sitting at the kitchen table, discussing things rationally. It was something I couldn’t picture. I slid my hand over his knee and Tom patted my hand distractedly while he went on.

‘We really talked, Kelley. We haven’t done that since he was a kid.’

Tom shrugged and smiled.

‘I guess he’s not a kid any more. He’s messed up, yeah, but he’s got potential to fix it.’

My heart swelled with pride. ‘And you’re going to help him.’

‘He’s my son,’ Tom said.

We rode in silence for a while.

‘Kelley?’

‘Hmmm?’

‘I think he will get accustomed to you. He is used to women just floating in and out of my life. He knows you’re different.’

Taken by the sweetness of the man, I laughed out loud. I leaned over and kissed his throat. Tom sighed, and his hands tightened on the wheel. I kissed him again. Then again. Tom swerved and cursed, but he was smiling.

Being reckless felt good. I slid my hand down his belly and he sucked in his breath. I unbuttoned his jeans. His cock was hard and thick as I pulled it free of the denim. Tom bit his lip and looked straight ahead.

‘Do you still taste the same?’ I asked.

Tom groaned and shifted in his seat.

‘You feel the same,’ I whispered as I stroked him.

The thin wetness at the tip of his cock was already enough to make my hand slick. At that moment, Tom was merging into heavy airport traffic. He stared at the road but only a small part of him was paying attention to the drive. The rest of him was focused entirely on what my hand was doing.

I stroked harder. Tom gasped and glanced at me once, then shot his eyes back to the road. A ghost of a smile crossed his lips.

‘You bad, bad girl,’ he said.

I kissed my way down his throat, then planted soft kisses in a line down his chest. His T-shirt was a nuisance. I wanted to touch bare skin. And then I did, when I sank my mouth down over his cock.

Tom shuddered. I looked up to see his jaw set, his teeth clenched, his eyes on the road and his knuckles white on the steering wheel. I bobbed up and down, not bothering with foreplay of any kind. I licked his cock every time I slid down. I sucked hard every time I pulled up. I made my lips a hard ring around him and slid just the head of his cock into my mouth, caressing it with sharp hard strokes.

‘Fuck,’ he uttered once, but made no other sound.

Tom warned me with a small moan right before he came. He sucked in a sharp breath as the first shot of semen filled my mouth. I swallowed all he gave me, then carefully sat up and looked right at him. Cars and trucks were zooming past us on either side. Tom stared at the windshield for a moment, then glanced over at me. He blushed scarlet. The rush of power was heady.

‘Touch yourself for me,’ he ordered, as if he was the one with the upper hand. I smiled and slid across the seat until my back was pressed against the passenger-side door. After a moment’s thought, I reached up and locked it. Tom chuckled. I unzipped my jeans and slid my hand inside.

‘I want to see,’ Tom protested.

I didn’t push my jeans down. I teased him with the knowledge of what my hand was doing there between my thighs. Tom kept glancing over at me and then looking back at the traffic. It was a busy day at the airport. When a trucker drove by, I knew he could probably see us from his higher vantage point – but I still didn’t stop. I thrust my hips up to meet my hand. Tom stared at me for a moment, licked his lips, then suddenly looked back out the windshield, as if he had forgotten he was supposed to be driving.

‘This is dangerous,’ I murmured.

Tom shook his head in frustration but didn’t say a word. I rested one foot on the dashboard and pushed the other one right under Tom’s ass. He looked at me in surprise. With my legs spread like that, I slipped both hands down the front of my pants.

The truck swerved. ‘Jesus Christ,’ Tom swore.

‘Uh-huh.’ I was wet enough to make lewd sounds that Tom could clearly hear from the driver’s seat. I rested my head against the window and bit my lip. A car honked – whether in response to what I was doing or in response to Tom’s increasingly erratic driving, I had no idea.

I stared at Tom for a long time, watching him try to navigate both the road and the fact that his cock had more control over him than his brain. I was ready to fuck right there in the middle of traffic. I would give anything to see Tom pull off an exit ramp, drive to the shoulder and pound me right there on the seat of my old pickup.

I studied him, especially the muscles in his arms, the way they bulged and moved under his T-shirt as he drove, and I began to compare him to Daniel, the long and lanky painter who probably had a painting of me up on an easel right now, somewhere down under the equator where the stars were upside down.

What the hell was wrong with me?

My ardor disappeared just as quickly as it had come, but I didn’t stop moving. I closed my eyes and focused on the sensation and wondered what to do. I couldn’t fake it – Tom knew me too well, knew all the little cues I couldn’t possibly create out of imagination. If I stopped now, he would know damn good and well that there was something wrong.

And maybe that was best?

I sat up in the seat. Tom looked at me curiously as I zipped up my pants. I was sticky and messy and guilty as sin.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ Tom asked as soon as he merged out of traffic and onto the exit.

‘I’m glad to be home.’

I moved across the seat and curled up next to him even though it was hot as hell, even though the air conditioning wasn’t working right, and buried my face in his shoulder. He was so strong. So broad. So understanding.

Had I done something unforgivable?

Tom didn’t seem to read my mind this time. He chuckled and patted my hand.

‘I missed you,’ he said.

I zipped up his jeans. He was hard again, even after a strong orgasm, but with my sudden change in temperament he wasn’t raring to go any more. I kissed him and my lips slid off the side of his as he looked at the side mirror and changed lanes.

‘Tell me about the island,’ he said. ‘What did you do there?’

My laugh was a short and sudden sound that almost frightened me.

‘I got drunk,’ I said, and then I was laughing so hard I couldn’t catch my breath. I lowered my head between my legs. I laughed hard enough to make my ribs hurt, to make my eyes water.

It seemed to take forever, but I got myself under control. One last giggle bubbled to the surface and quickly went away. Tom was looking at me, incredulous. He had pulled over to the side of the road and there we sat, the truck occasionally rocking when the wind from an eighteen-wheeler whistled over it. Beyond him I could see the cars whizzing by, sometimes slowing down, sometimes curious.

‘Kelley?’

I had to tell him. ‘I got drunk and then I went home and I slept it off, and that next morning I was so sick, and I thought so much about too many things, and by the time I was sober again I did something I should never have done, and I am so sorry, Tom.’

Tom stared at me for a long moment. There was no understanding in his eyes. He hadn’t a clue what I was talking about. None of it had really registered.

‘You’re sorry you got drunk?’ he asked.

His tone was like a knife twisting in my belly. He was so trusting, he never would have dreamed I could have turned to someone else. He reminded me so much of me, back when I believed everything Michael told me.

I would not let that happen to us. I would not let a ghost reside between us.

‘I’m sorry that I did something I shouldn’t have done,’ I said, and again, I knew Tom didn’t understand. His eyes were almost blank.

‘You were drinking –’

‘I almost slept with somebody else,’ I blurted out.

Tom looked at me for a long moment. Then he looked straight ahead, staring out the windshield as the cars zoomed past. He blinked a few times. He took a deep breath. I watched his hands as he carefully opened them, making a conscious effort not to grip the wheel with all his strength. One little muscle at the corner of his mouth twitched.

‘Were you drunk?’ he asked carefully.

Until that moment, it hadn’t occurred to me that forgiveness would be more likely if I had been under the influence of something. Then he could say that I wasn’t acting like myself. He could say that I had been seduced. He could say anything but what he really didn’t want to believe, that I had done such things while I was completely in my right mind.

For the first time, I considered lying to Tom. But my silence stretched out too far, and, before I could form the words that would absolve me from the heaviest guilt, Tom spoke again.

‘Your silence says you weren’t drunk.’

I leaned against the dashboard and shook my head from side to side, over and over, wondering how we wound up here – in this truck on the side of the road, removed from everyone who was going about their busy and productive lives, watching our own suffer through an earthquake that very well might leave us in ruins.

I started to cry. I tried to keep it under control – I was the guilty party, after all, and if anyone had a right to cry it would be Tom, not me – but control vanished with every moment of silence from Tom. There was no tenderness from him, no touch on my back, no kind words that would make the burden easier.

‘I want to know everything,’ he said. ‘No. On second thought, I don’t want to know everything. I just want to know the basics.’

I sniffled and sat up in the seat. ‘The basics?’

Tom stared out the window. His jaw was clenched tight. It crossed my mind that his history could lead him to violence at a moment like this, and I was also very aware that he was determined not to let that happen.

‘I should make you tell me every last detail,’ he said. ‘I should torture you with making you remember every last bit of what you did.’

I nodded and tried to look at him, but I couldn’t find the strength to do it.

‘But that would be torturing myself, wouldn’t it?’ Tom turned to me so abruptly that I flinched away from him. ‘Did you go all the way?’

Tom’s eyes were darker than I had ever seen them. Tears shone at the corners – whether from pain or from anger, I didn’t know.

‘No.’

‘Did you want to?’

I choked back a sob. I thought about lying with Daniel on the couch. We hadn’t gone too far, but had I wanted more?

‘I don’t know,’ I said honestly. ‘But I don’t think so.’

‘What stopped you?’

I looked at Tom then. He was looking right at me, and now those tears were obviously made of something much deeper than anger. They went straight to my heart.

‘You. You stopped me.’

Tom slammed the truck into drive. He roared off the shoulder, throwing gravel and dirt behind us. The force threw me back in the seat. Cars honked wildly. A truck swerved and I caught a glimpse of the irate driver, flipping Tom off while he braked. Tom roared up to sixty as he dodged cars on the road, then pushed the speedometer even higher.

I buckled the seat belt. Tom noticed and slowed down, but still not enough.

‘We’re going home,’ he said, as if I had asked.

Tom tore down the interstate with little regard for the other drivers around us. He was making enemies with every mile. He shot into the exit and in the process cut off a little red compact car. The woman behind the wheel was yelling. I could see her doing it, but all I could hear was the squeal of tires as Tom laid rubber all the way up the ramp.

‘Slow down,’ I said softly.

‘Don’t you dare tell me what to do, you understand?’

Tom’s voice was filled with venom. I sank back against the seat as the scenery flashed past. The road hummed underneath us, then whined as he turned onto a secondary road. When he turned into the driveway, the crunch of gravel wasn’t comforting – it was ominous, as the wheels threw tails of the little white stones. They tinked hard against the underside of the truck. Tom slammed on the brakes but not quickly enough – I instinctively grabbed the dash and braced myself as Tom ran into his own privacy gate.

‘Fuck!’ he shouted.

Tom climbed out of the truck and stalked to the front. He unlocked the gate and pushed it open. The dent in it was clearly visible. The gate was ruined. I didn’t want to think about what the front of my truck looked like. Tom stood there for a long moment and stared at it, then walked back to the driver’s side door with a surprisingly calm stride.

‘Take the truck up the house. I’m going to take a walk.’

Tom’s eyes were bright with tears, and there was something else on his face – something that looked like fear.

‘Tom?’

‘Start dinner, if you don’t mind. I don’t know if either of us can eat, but we should at least have the option.’

I started to speak again but Tom held up his hand. He shook his head and looked towards the gate. He stared at the damage. He looked back at me. ‘I don’t want to do anything either one of us would regret and, if you speak to me again, I can’t promise I won’t. So trust me one more time, Kelley.’

The mention of trust twisted straight into my belly. I nodded and slid behind the wheel. After I put the truck in drive, I looked over at Tom. He hadn’t moved. Though I wanted to say something, anything, I held my tongue and simply looked at him until he stepped back from the truck, giving me the room I needed to drive forwards.

I didn’t move, and neither did he. Finally, Tom spoke. What he said was the last thing I expected.

‘We will get through this.’

Before I could answer, Tom slammed the door and walked across the yard. He moved into the woods without a second’s hesitation, and I stared at the place where he had been. He seemed to have vanished.

I drove up to the house, wiping tears out of my eyes to see the way.

Tom hadn’t done much cleaning while I was gone, so there was plenty to do. I swept the floors and cleaned the counters and put in a load of laundry, stopping only to pull one of his shirts up to my nose. It smelled like the wilderness, like trees and grass and black soil. There was the slightest hint of campfire smoke. I breathed deep of all those good things and suddenly felt lightheaded, assaulted by all I had taken for granted. I leaned against the washing machine until the feeling abated.

By the time Tom came back, dinner was bubbling on the stove and I was finishing the last of the dishes. I turned to look at him as he came in, but I didn’t stop what I was doing. I needed somewhere to put my hands, something to do to keep an emotional distance between us.

‘What are we having?’ Tom asked carefully.

‘Beef Stroganoff,’ I said, trying to keep a normal tone, too.

‘It smells delicious. You’re a very good cook.’

‘Thank you,’ I whispered. The tears were right under the surface. I hid them as well as I could but, when Tom stepped behind me and wrapped me in his arms, there were no defenses left.

The plate I was washing slid back into the water. I suddenly remembered our first kiss. We were doing dishes together then, and there was nothing between us but anticipation and possibilities and the slightest hint of a former love to be overcome. The future was laid out, and all we had to do was accept it as it came.

‘We need a dishwasher,’ he said inanely. ‘I need to get you one of those.’

Tom kissed the back of my neck. I let out one sob, then stood silently as Tom’s lips played over my skin.

‘Kelley.’

I was silent.

‘I want to say things to hurt you. At the same time, all I want to do is take you to bed,’ he whispered. ‘Isn’t that insane?’

We stood there so long that the Stroganoff began to burn. Tom finally let me go long enough to turn the heat off underneath it, and within seconds he was against me again, his chest pressing hard against my back, so hard I had to brace myself against the sink to keep from bending under his weight.

‘Please,’ I murmured.

The admission of what I wanted slipped from me without any warning. If someone had told me an hour ago that I would have asked for Tom to take me to bed, I would have said they were, as Tom had so aptly put it, insane.

‘I’m very angry,’ he said.

‘You won’t hurt me,’ I said right back to him, and I knew it was true.

Tom sighed. ‘I’m not a saint,’ he said, and I knew then that he was scared, perhaps even more scared than I was, of what was happening here between us. I didn’t know what to say, so I said the thing that was most obvious.

‘Do you want dinner?’

Tom kissed the back of my neck. The touch was sudden and unexpected. I jumped when he did it. When I turned to look at him, he was already walking away, heading down to the basement. The way he closed the door, with a slow and decisive slam, said clearly that I was not to follow. Within moments I heard the clatter of the weights and the rhythmic sound that said he was working out on one machine or another.

An hour later, as I lay in bed alone, I listened to him pound the punching bag. Sometimes I listened to him cry. I lay awake until the sun came up.