AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He grabbed her hand. “What the hell's going on, Joy?”
“Nothing. Nothing is going on. Absolutely nothing is going on.”
“Sit down.”
“I don't feel like it. Now let go of me.” She wrenched free of his grip and went over to a window. Outside, the full moon gleamed in a cloudless, cold sky.
“Yes. I love her.”
Joy wheeled around.
Alex wasn't looking in her direction at all. And he seemed to have retracted into himself, his big body more compact than usual.
“Alex...”
“I started loving her the moment I first saw her run into my best friend's arms. It's been a hellacious six years and now that Reese is...gone, there's no end in sight.” His vivid blue eyes flashed up at her. “I don't like admitting this to myself. It's got nothing to do with trust?ing you.”
Joy went back to the table. “Does she know?”
He shook his head. “Only you and God do. And it has to stay that way. Do we understand each other?”
She nodded, sinking down into a chair. “Perfectly.”
In the silence that followed, she watched as he ate.
“So I'm leaving soon,” he said abruptly.
“Going where?” She tried to keep her alarm to herself.
“There's a bathroom with a shower in Dad's old work?shop. I figure I can move a bed in to the space.”
“But the shop's not heated.”
“There's a potbellied stove. I'll be okay.” He fiddled with the spoon, running it in circles through the soup. “There are too many people in this house. And I don't like living off Bennett's hospitality.”
“Have you told Frankie?”
“Yeah. She blew a gasket, but she knows she can't stop me. I did promise to stay here until my next check-up with the ortho doc. But then I'm gone.”
A feeling of unease curled around Joy's heart. “Alex, if you slowly kill yourself, I will never forgive you.”
He smiled coldly into his soup. “Trust me, if I wanted to be dead, I'd be in the ground already. I've always known where the shotgun was in the house.”
Chapter Fourteen
The following weekend, Joy watched Frankie and Nate get married in the county courthouse. Spike was the other witness. Frankie wore a tailored pantsuit because the gown Joy had worked so hard on had been ruined by smoke and water. Nate was in a jacket and tie.
Seeing her sister dressed as if she were going to a job interview instead of taking a husband made Joy want to cry for everything Frankie had missed out on. The dress. The veil. The big party.
But the funny thing was, Frankie and Nate didn't seem to mind the change in clothes or venue or plans. Heck, they didn't even seem to notice they weren't in a cathe?dral when the judge addressed them in his chambers. The two of them were glowing like stars, especially as they shared their first kiss as husband and wife.
Joy, on the other hand, felt the losses acutely. Espe?cially as she signed the papers as a witness. It just didn't seem fair, and manufacturer's defect or not, she still blamed herself for the fire.
Following a quiet dinner at a local, 1950's era dive called the Silver Diner, the four of them went back to Gray's house. They'd just walked in the door when Libby called down the back stairs from her room.
“Joy, is that you?”
“Hi, Libby,” she answered. “It's me. All of us, actually.”
There was a scamper of dog feet and then Ernest shot down the stairwell. He did a quick meet-and-greet of the assembled bipeds while his owner came into the kitchen. Libby was wearing a pink fuzzy bathrobe and slippers and her white hair was matted on one side, as if she'd been reading in bed.
The woman smiled at Joy. “You just missed young Mister Gray's call. He said he was traveling, but that he might try you later.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
In the past week, Gray still phoned her as much as he had before, but now she saw his actions in a different light. Did he time the calls early in the morning and late at night not because he was busy, but because he was checking up on her? And did he ask her about her day because he was trying to ferret out whether or not she'd been dating someone?
He'd told her he didn't care what she did up north, but she wasn't sure she believed him.
Which made them equal, she supposed. Because he didn't believe in her, either.
Frustration crept into her chest, making her lungs burn. The sensation was so familiar to her by now that she barely noticed it.
“So where have you all been?” Libby asked, as if they were children coming in from a night of fun. “You left before I got back from my brother's.”
“We were getting married,” Frankie said. She flashed a simple gold band and a dazzling smile while her new husband nuzzled her neck.
“Why didn't you say something!”
Libby rushed forward to embrace the couple and Er?nest, ever ready for a group hug, planted his forepaws on Nate's hip.
“With everything that's been going on, we just wanted to keep it quiet,” Frankie said.
“Shall I get out the champagne?”
Frankie looked at Nate and smiled. “That would be great.”
The five of them split a bottle while sitting around the kitchen table. As Joy watched her sister and Nate, she felt as though her heart were going to break. She was re?minded of when she'd seen them together in this very same room, on the night of Gray's father's birthday party. She'd been struck by the depth of their love and the shallowness of her own daydreams.
Now, the comparison between what they had and what was going on with Gray was even harder to bear.
Later, she went up to his bedroom, took a shower and slid between the sheets. She was lying on her stomach, one of his pillows tucked against her body, when the phone rang on the bedside table. Instinc?tively she reached for it. but then figured it was prob?ably Gray's private line as the phone out in the hall wasn't ringing, as well.
She wondered who was on the other end and decided she'd rather not know. Ever since the conversation with Alex, she'd been thinking about what Gray was doing down in Washington. He'd said he didn't care who she saw up north so it wasn't unreasonable to wonder whether he was with other women down south.
And wasn't that a great thought to try and fall asleep on.
After four rings, the phone fell silent.
Gray flipped his cell phone shut and did not look at his watch. He knew damn well it was after midnight.
Joy was either not answering his phone. Or she still wasn't home.
Why in the hell had he told her he didn't care who she saw up north?
He cared. He cared deeply. He cared until he couldn't think of anything but her. Until all he knew was that he missed her and he felt...well, something close to un?clothed without her by his side.
Exhausted, Gray rubbed his eyes and wished he were not at yet another Washington party. Through the door he'd shut for privacy, the churning, relentless noise of people drinking and talking and laughing seeped into the parlor. John Beckin threw a mean shindig, he always had, but tonight Gray was not in the mood.
Putting off the inevitable, he wandered around, look?ing at the trinkets and the paintings and the photographs.
He kept hearing Joy's voice in his head.
What's it going to take for you to trust me?
I don't need to trust you.
His response had been honest, but maybe all wrong. First of all, if it were true, he wouldn't feel so wretched right now. And second, where did that leave her? Wouldn't she need to feel that he had some faith in her?
What's it going to take for you to trust me?
God, he feared that question, he really did. Because the more time he spent with her, the more attached he got and the harder it was to let go of his past. It was getting damn near impossible to put aside images of his father looking broken.
And he kept hearing the sounds of doors opening and closing as his mother's lovers left.
Damn it, he knew Joy was not his mother. But he also knew that she'd just had her first lover. Sort of. And that she was entering the New York City arena after having been cloistered upstate all her life. She was a stunning beauty with a good heart. Didn't she deserve to be free to explore?
Gray rubbed the center of his chest. Explore?
Oh, come on, Bennett. Like the dating scene in Man?hattan was a flipping National Geographic special?
Well, there were a lot of animals in the Big Apple.
Yeah, and if one of them so much as shook her hand, Gray was going to go commando. He wanted her as his own and no one else's.
So where did that leave them?
The answer was easy. And shattering. He probably should just step up to the plate and tell her that he wanted them to be together. Exclusively. As in boyfriend and girl?friend, though the words seemed ridiculous considering they were both adults.
Except as he contemplated coming forward with that little proposal, all he felt was a cold void. The sensation reminded him of what had been bouncing around in his body when he'd almost blurted out that I love you the night of the fire.
He massaged his sternum again. Ah, hell, he was afraid.
But why?
Because maybe, just maybe, he thought, the root of the problem wasn't in his past or her present. Maybe it had nothing to do with time. It was entirely possible that he was just a coward who didn't want to get his heart broken.
Gray winced.
Damn, no wonder he tried to avoid thinking about his feelings. Self-actualization was about as much fun as getting a thigh bone set.
The thoughts about boyfriends and girlfriends made Gray pause by a black-and-white photograph of a group of college kids. A young John Beckin, his deceased wife, Mary, and what must have been their cronies, were sit?ting in football bleachers wearing Yale sweatshirts.
God, Becks seemed so young, but his intensity was al?ready shining through. In the picture, he was looking over his shoulder. Staring, actually. With total absorption.
Gray frowned and bent down closer to the frame. Good Lord. Allison and Roger Adams were behind Becks.
And Allison was the one Becks was staring at.
Gray picked up the picture.
The woman didn't seem to be aware of the attention. She was looking at her future husband, laughing at some?thing Roger had said, totally oblivious to the young man in front who was regarding her with.. .love.
A terrible feeling came over Gray, the same kind of nasty ache he'd had when his mother had used him.
“There you are,” came a voice from across the room.
Gray turned, photograph still in hand. Becks was smil?ing as he walked into the parlor.
“We were worried you'd left, Bennett.”
“You want her still,” Gray said softly.
Becks seemed confused. “I'm sorry?”
“Allison Adams. You wanted her then.” He turned the frame around. “You want her still. That's why you asked me to dig into the affair. You wanted to make sure she knew about the adultery and were betting that I'd force her husband to tell her or I'd go to her myself with what I found out. It had nothing to do with the leaks or the re?porter or the Senate, did it?”
Becks looked down once before lying. “Don't be ab?surd, Gray.”
“You know I'm tight with her. That I respect her. That I wouldn't feel right about keeping that kind of thing a secret.” Gray shook his head and put the picture back. “You played me very well, Becks. Very, very well.”
Becks's eyes were shrewd as he seemed to be assess?ing whether to keep lying or not. “Did you go to him?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What did he say? Did he admit to it?”
“I'm not going to go into that with you. But he did as?sure me the leaks weren't from him, and I believe Roger.” Partially on account of the fact that the senator had been crying at the time, but mostly because having an affair with a reporter was dangerous enough. Sharing secrets with a journalist you were laying was guaranteed career suicide and Roger Adams was smart enough to know that.
