Chapter Twenty-Six

Rafe


I wake up with Taz’s scent up my nostrils.

Last night after her parents left and the kids were asleep, she’d been quiet. Halfway through an episode of Designated Survivor she announced she was tired and going to bed.

Earlier I’d watched her talking to her father through the kitchen window. She’d seemed emotional and I kept an eye out, but since it didn’t look like they were arguing, I didn’t want to interrupt.

The whole night had been uneasy. Sarah had seemed subdued to the point of uncommunicative, and Taz had been on eggshells, which is why I didn’t stop her when she went to bed. I finished watching the episode, took the dogs out for a pee before locking up for the night, and followed her upstairs.

“I know you’re awake,” she mumbles, her head on my chest. She’d curled into me the moment I slipped into bed with her.

“How long have you been up?” I stroke my hand up her back and under her nightshirt.

“A while.”

“How come?”

I can feel her shrug. “Trying to anticipate how they’re going to react when we tell them.”

“Your parents?”

“Hmmm. Mom’s going to blow. I’m not sure about Dad, though. He said something last night that made me wonder.”

“You looked like you were having an intense conversation.”

She lifts her head, her eyes meeting mine. “Not really intense; it was sweet. I haven’t had a talk like that with my father in forever. It felt good.”

“So those were happy tears I saw?”

She smiles, her eyes soft. “Yeah. He told me to grab hold of happiness. I’ve been wondering if he was talking about us. About you.”

I curl my fingers in her dreads and lift my head so I can reach her mouth for a brief kiss. “I wouldn’t put it past him,” I whisper against her lips. “I think your dad is more perceptive than he’s credited for.”

“But if that’s the case, why did he seem upset with me when I first got back?”

This time it’s my turn to shrug. “Don’t forget I was too. Misunderstandings tend to be persistent when you only get one side of the story.”

“I guess so,” she mumbles, dropping her head down to my chest, my hand resumes stroking her back.

“It’ll be okay.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but we’ll get through. You wanna know how I know that?”

“How?”

“Love.”

Her head pops up again and her eyes search my face. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely. It’s what connects us all. Nicky, the children, your parents, and us; you and me.”

“Are you saying you love me?”

“I’m saying I love everyone, but I’m in love with you.”

Her eyes go soft and I feel the sudden need to be inside her. A little smile tugs at her lips when I roll her on her back, quickly shed my boxers, and wedge my hips in the cradle of hers.

“Make love to me, Rafe.”

“I always do.”

I feel her already wet when I pull aside the gusset of her panties and rub my cock along her crease. Our eyes stay locked when I slide deep inside her, her heat closing around me.

“For the record,” she whispers on a gasp. “I’m in love with you too.”

“Don’t hit your fingers.”

Spencer is wielding the small mallet like a tennis racket as he tries to hammer a tent peg down.

The kids are helping me set up the tent in the backyard to make sure the mice haven’t eaten any holes in the fabric. It’s been packed away for quite a few years. The sleeping bags are hanging on the laundry line to air out, and Taz is inside making a list of things to bring.

Our campground is only about two hours away, but you still don’t want to have to drive back home for something you forgot. I would’ve liked to venture out a little farther but staying a bit closer to home this time makes sense. Ed’s health is a bit unstable, the dogs are still pretty young, and this’ll be our first trip together. In addition, we plan to have a talk with the kids, which—especially in Sofie’s case—is at best unpredictable. Better not to get trapped a day’s drive away in case things go south.

“Sofie, don’t let Stitch pull on the tent flap like that. He’ll tear it.” Still a little shaken by the dog’s rampage yesterday, she’s quick to pull him away.

“Is this good, Dad?” Spencer calls out and I walk over to inspect the peg he managed to get halfway into the ground.

“Well done, Son. You can be my helper next week when we set it up at the campsite.”

“Sofie! I get to be Daddy’s helper!”

“So what?”

Ignoring the familiar ensuing bickering I inspect the tent, not finding any holes. I pick up Lilo, who seems to have found a place to nap inside, and close the zipper for the bugs.

“Guys, let’s grab something to eat, okay? We’re dropping you off at Kathleen’s for a few hours in the pool after lunch.”

With the dogs in their crate for a nap and the kids having a sandwich at the table, I walk inside to check on Taz who said she’d be right out.

“Watcha doing?” I find her curled up in one of the club chairs; her laptop perched on her knees. I sit down on the armrest and look at the screen. She starts to close the lid, but I stop her and point at one of the couches, a dark tan, leather sectional. “I like that one.”

“So much for the surprise,” she mutters under her breath.

“Surprise?”

She tilts her head back to look at me. “Your birthday is in a few weeks, I thought…never mind. It was a stupid idea.”

“Not stupid at all. I can imagine a lot of fun things we could do on that couch.”

“The kids,” she hisses in warning.

“Are busy eating their lunch.”

I tilt her chin up and lean down for a kiss. I plunder her mouth, fueled by images of Taz bent over the armrest of the leather couch, her lush ass in the air and my cock sliding in and out of her, slick with her juices.

A sharp intake of breath functions like a bucket of ice water on my libido.

Fuck.

Taz


“I didn’t want to believe it.”

Mom is standing in the open front door, looking at us with hurt in her eyes.

“Mom…” I scramble to my feet, setting the laptop on the table, but Mom holds up her hand, pressing her eyes closed.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” she repeats. “Not from that nasty cow, Sheila. Never could stand the woman. But when Mrs. Myers hinted at the same thing this morning in church I started wondering. I’d noticed a change—a word, a touch—but I convinced myself it couldn’t be. No way you would betray Nicky’s memory like that.” She looks up, her face marred with disappointment. “Now I know they were both telling the truth. How could you?”

“Grandma?”

My head swings around to find Sofie standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking confused.

“Why don’t you drop the kids off at Kathleen’s.” My voice is flat, almost resigned, as I turn back to my mother.

“I’m not lea—” Rafe starts to object, but I cut him off.

“Please, Rafe. The kids.”

I wait for a tense minute, my eyes focused on my mother’s, until finally I hear Rafe gathering up the kids, mumbling to them in a hushed voice.

“She’s barely cold in her grave,” Mom says in a low voice the moment the door closes behind them. “I’m almost glad she doesn’t have to know how her own sister didn’t waste any time moving in on her family.”

“Mom, you don’t know—”

“I don’t?” Her voice is shrill as anger starts to trump disappointment. “I know plenty. I know how you threw yourself into Rafe’s arms when your sister was pregnant with his child. I know how you tried to put a wedge in their marriage three years after that, when she was expecting Spencer. I know you cared so little about us you stayed away for years—years. I thought you’d changed. Thought maybe this time you came back for the right reasons, but boy, was I wrong.”

Tears burn my eyes as every word she says slices like the crack of a whip, but I swallow them down.

“I came back because I love my sister and she wanted me here. I came back because I hoped, maybe, I could make up for time lost with you and Dad. With the kids. I never intended to…to…”

“Take her family? I can’t even stand to look at you.”

“That’s enough, Sarah.”

Her head whips around at the sound of my dad’s voice. “How did you get here?”

“Hitched a ride with Kathleen after church. After you took off like a bat out of hell when Cynthia Myers did what she does best; stir the pot. Dammit, Sarah.”

“Do you know what your precious Baby Girl did, Ed?” I flinch at the way she spits out his nickname for me, like it’s something dirty. “She finally got her claws into Rafe. Her sister’s husband. The love of Nicky’s life.”

I sink back down in my chair and drop my head in my hands. There’s no way I’ll ever be able to change her perception, and I will not betray my sister by speaking ill of her in an effort to clear my own name. I won’t do it.

“Bullshit,” Dad barks, surprising me. “He was no more the love of her life as she was his. You’d have to be blind not to see that, Sarah.”

“You knew about this?” she snaps incredulously. “This…” she agitatedly waves her hand, “…sordid affair? Oh my God, those poor children.”

I keep my head down so I don’t see Rafe coming in, but I hear him.

“The only reason the kids are upset is because you came in here making a scene,” he says sharply. “As for Taz and me, we were coming over to talk to you after we dropped the kids off at Kathleen’s. Luckily she drove up with Dad so I was able to send the kids with her. They shouldn’t have to witness their grandmother tearing apart their aunt.”

“You’re blaming this on me?”

“This scene? Hell yes,” Rafe says in a surprisingly controlled voice. “The past nine years? No. We are all to blame for those.”

“Amen.” I almost start giggling at Dad’s solemn voice. I feel like I’ve landed in the middle of a horrible daytime soap opera.

“Now sit down, I’ll get us some drinks, and maybe we can have a normal conversation.”

I look up to find Mom doing as instructed, I imagine a little stunned at Rafe’s uncharacteristic confrontation. Dad sits down beside her on the duct-taped couch and winks at me. I bite off a smile.

Rafe walks in with the Glenfiddich, the bottle of port, and four tumblers. Mom doesn’t say a word when he hands her a generous glass of port. When the rest of us have a glass of whiskey, Rafe sits back down on my armrest, his warm hand resting in my neck.

“It’s not right,” Mom mutters, shaking her head at Rafe as tears well up in her eyes. “You belong to Nicky.”

“Mom, I love you like the mother I never had, but I never belonged to Nicky. I loved her, but not the way I should’ve. What’s more, she didn’t love me like that either.”

“Don’t you dare say that about my daughter!”

“Hush, Sarah, let the man speak.”

I stay silent; knowing anything I say will only inflame the situation like it always did in the past when Mom and I had a disagreement. Maybe it’s a sign I’ve grown up.

Rafe takes a deep breath in as he gives my neck a little squeeze. “Nicky wanted this for us. I never told her how I felt about Taz, even nine years ago, but somehow she knew. We both thought we were doing the right thing, getting married, and we tried. Both of us did. This is something I never intended to share with either of you, but given the circumstances I think I should. We were filing for divorce right before Nicky had her heart attack.”

“Convenient. You say that now.” Mom is desperately hanging on to her vision of Rafe and Nicky’s marriage and part of me understands. She’s already lost a daughter. I recognize it’s pain that has her lashing out. At Rafe this time.

“Mom,” he responds gently. “I can show you the paperwork. It was by mutual agreement. We’d been living in separate bedrooms for nearly a year.”

She sniffles and Dad fishes out his linen handkerchief, handing it to her. “Can you blame her? You may as well have cheated on her.”

I can take her taking potshots at me, but she’s blaming the wrong person and I can’t let that stand. “Rafe wasn’t the one cheating,” I tell her as gently as I can. “No one is perfect. Not even Nicky. She told me the last time I was here—when she was pregnant with Spencer—she had been seeing someone. Mom,” I plead for her to look at me. “It was an impossible situation from the start. That’s why I left. It seemed an easier solution for everyone.”

She stares at me, and I hurt at the pain in her expression. “I can’t…” she starts, letting her words trail off as she shakes her head. “I need to go.” She suddenly jumps to her feet and heads for the door.

“Sarah, hold on.” Dad struggles to stand up. “You’d better not drive off and leave me stranded twice in one day.”

“Mom…” It’s no use, she’s already outside, and Rafe rushes to give Dad a hand.

A few minutes later he comes back inside.

“Maybe she shouldn’t be driving,” I suggest, a little late.

“Your dad insists they’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want them to know—I knew how much that would hurt—but I couldn’t let her blame you for something you didn’t do.”

He walks up and pulls me close; my arms automatically slip around his waist. “I know. Sometimes you need to let the wound bleed clean before it can heal.”

“I think maybe we’re all bleeding a little,” I suggest, snuggling closer.

“Yeah, it may take some time, but we’ll eventually heal. Even your Mom.”

He tugs my head back by the hair and presses a hard kiss to my lips.

“What did you tell the kids?”

“That you and Grandma had something to work out. They didn’t ask any more.”

“We have to warn my parents.”

“I already did. They don’t want to hurt the kids any more than we do.”