Dedication
TothosewhooveranalyzeContents
Cover
TitlePage
Dedication
ChapterOne
ChapterTwo
ChapterThree
ChapterFour
ChapterFive
ChapterSix
ChapterSeven
ChapterEight
ChapterNine
ChapterTen
ChapterEleven
ChapterTwelve
ChapterThirteen
ChapterFourteen
ChapterFifteen
ChapterSixteen
ChapterSeventeen
ChapterEighteen
ChapterNineteen
ChapterTwenty
ChapterTwenty-One
ChapterTwenty-Two
ChapterTwenty-Three
ChapterTwenty-Four
ChapterTwenty-Five
ChapterTwenty-Six
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
AbouttheAuthor
AlsobyTessaBailey
Copyright
AboutthePublisherChapterOne
WesDanielscrackedaneyelid.
Thestreetlampoutsidethehouseletinjustenoughlightforhimtomakeoutthesilhouetteofhisfive-year-oldniecesittingontheendofhisbed,wearinghiscowboyhat.Ifthesefreakywake-upcallsweren’taregularoccurrence,itwouldhavescaredthelivingshitoutofhim.Thefirsttime,he’dalmoststartedshoutingfortheghostchildtogotowardthelight.Hisniecewasanearlyriser,however,andthisroutinehadbeenwellestablishedoverthelastmonth.
Didn’tmeanhehadtoacceptit.
“Nope.Stilldark.”Wespulledthecomforterupoverhishead.“Youhavetostayinbeduntiltheclocksayssix,twodots,doublezero,kid.Wetalkedaboutthis.”
“ButIdon’twanttogotoschooltoday.”
“Schoolisn’tfor…”Heliftedhisheadandcheckedtheclock.“Lord.Schoolisn’tuntilnineA.M.That’sfourhoursfromnow.Youcouldfitoneandahalfmajorleaguebaseballgamesintothat.”
Shewassilentamoment.“Idon’thaveanyfriendsatschool.”
“Sureyoudo.”Whenshedidn’trespond,Wessighed,reachingoverandturningonthelamp,findingasuper-seriouschildpeekingathimfrombeneaththebrimofhistanfelthat.HowonGod’sgreenearthamIresponsibleforafive-year-old?Heaskedhimselfthatquestionseveraltimesaday,buttheabsurdityofthearrangementstruckharderinthemorningtime.Wesclearedthesleepfromhisvoice.“WhataboutthegirlwiththeMinniebackpack?YoutwoseemedprettychummywhenIdroppedyouoffyesterday.”
“She’sbestfriendswithHallie.”
“Thatmeansshecan’tbeyourfriend,too?”
Laurashruggedandpursedherlips,aclearindicationshewasabouttochangetactics.“Mystomachisgoingtohurtinfourhours.”
Timetofacefacts.Hewasn’tgettingthatextrahourofsleep.Hell,hecouldn’trememberthelasttimehe’dwokenupintheactualdaylight.Ifonlymyfriendscouldseemenow.Inthenot-so-distantpast,WeswouldhavesleptstraightthroughahangoverandwokenupjustintimetohittheSanAntoniobarsalloveragainwithwhatevercashhe’dmanagedtoscrapetogetherrodeoriding.Evennow—hewasjustshyofhistwenty-fourthbirthday—thiswasprimeoats-sewingtime.
Buteverythinghadchangedwithonephonecall.He’dbeenyankedfromapartylifestylefreeofresponsibilitiesinTexasanddroppedontoaforeignplanet,alsoknownasPortJefferson,LongIsland.Toraiseachild.
Goodthingitwastemporary.
Andhell,whatwasn’t?
Wesswallowedthehardobjectinhisthroatandrolledintoasittingpositionattheedgeofthebed,reachingforhisdiscardedshirtonthefloorandtuggingitonoverhishead.“Comeon,kid.Let’sgoseewhatinfomercialsareon.Maybewe’llgetluckywithsomecookingdemonstrations.”
Laurabrightened.“MaybeInstantPot.”
Heruffledherhairandhelpedheroffthebed.“Here’shoping.”
NosoonerhadWesgottenLaurasettledonthecouchwithablanketdidsherequestapplejuice.Whileretrievingitfromthekitchen,heleaneddownandscannedthevariousschedulestapedtohisrefrigerator.Thereweregoddamnfourofthem.Fourschedules.Tosayitwasaroughtransition,goingfromnoschedulestofour,wouldbeputtingitlightly.
Scheduleone:kindergarten.Everydaywasasomethingday.Bringasillypoemtosharewiththeclass.Wearyellow.Dresslikeasuperhero.FortheloveofGod,wasn’thomeworkenough?Weswasn’tevensurewhatPTAstoodfor,butwhenhefoundout,hewasgoingtoshowupatameetingandsolvethemysteryofwhowasbehindthesecrazy-asssomethingdays.Heorsheprobablyhadfangsandamaniacallaugh.
Hesighedandrestedhisheadonthefridgeamomentbeforefocusingonscheduletwo,akatheAlmightyFoodRotation.TherewasalocalgroupofwomencalledtheJustUsLeagueandthey’dtakenituponthemselvestobringhimandLauralabeledcontainersoffoodwhentheyfoundoutabouthissituation.Atfirst,he’dbeenpleasedashelltoinformthemhedidn’tneedcharity,buthehadjustenoughhumilitytoadmitthey’dbeeatingpizzaeverynightwithoutthemeals.
Nottomention,theJustUsLeagueorganizerwasBethanyCastle,andWesdidn’tturndownchancestobeinhervicinity.No,sir.Onlyanidiotwould.Hemighthavetakenafewhitstothenogginafterbeingtossedoffthebacksofsomeangrybulls,butWeswasn’tafool.Heknewatenwhenhesawone.
Bethanywasafifteen.
Whichbroughthimtothethirdschedule:childcare.ItwaswritteninBethany’shandwriting,andheranhisfingerovertheneat,femininelettersnow,smilingoverhercolor-codedsystemofdecidingwhichJustUsLeaguememberwouldbabysitLaurauntilhegothomefromworkeachday.Shewasneveronthescheduleherself,ofcourse.Kidsweren’texactlyherareaofexpertise.
Jointheclub,gorgeous.
Whatwereherareasofexpertise?
Turninghimonanddrivinghimnuts.Andsheexcelledatthem.
Goodthinghewasanexpertatdrivinghernutsrightback.WhichbroughtWestohisfourthandfinalschedule.Work.
StartingMondaymorning,he’dhavetheopportunitytogetunderBethany’sskinonanextendedbasis.WhenWeslandedinPortJeffersonlastmonth,he’dhadjustenoughconstructionexperienceonhisrésumétolandagigwiththelocalhouse-flippinggods,Brick&Morty.TheirnextprojecthappenedtobelocatedrightacrossthestreetfromBethany’shouse.Yes,sir.ComeMondaymorning,hewouldbedrivingBethanynuttierthanever.
Bringiton.
“UncleWes!”Laurashoutedoveraninfomercialaboutrevolutionarymops.“Applejuice!”
“Damn,kid.Whatdidyourlastmaiddiefrom?”hedrawled,pryingopenthefridgeandtakingouttheyellow-and-goldcontainer.“DoyouwantCheerios?”hecalledoverhisshoulder.“Don’twaitformetositdowntoask.Tellmenow.”
“’Kay.Cheerios.”
Asmileplayedaroundhismouthashetookdownabowl,dumpinginahandfulofdrycereal.Hemightbeafarcryfromtheidealfatherfigure,buthehadthiskid’squirksdowntoascience.Theywouldneedtobeginfiguringoutheroutfitbyseveno’clockorshewouldpanicandmeltdown.Hefrowned,tryingtorememberifhethrewherfavoritepinkjeanshortsintothewasher.
“Applejuice!”hisnieceshriekedfromthelivingroom.
“Coming,”hedroned,walkingtothecouchandhandingherthecupbeforewedgingthesmallbowlofCheeriosbetweenherknees.“Don’tspill.Thisisn’tmycouch.”
LaurasenthimanuneasyglanceandWescursedinwardly.Whyhadhegoneandsaidthat?Shedidn’tneedthereminderherparentshadsplitandleftherinthecareofacluelessbachelor.Wasn’tWesbeinghereintheirplacereminderenough?Afterthefailureofhissister’srelationship,she’dcalledhimclaimingtoneedabreatherfromherresponsibilities,includingmotherhood.Withnochildcareexperiencetospeakof,he’dgottenonaplaneinSanAntonioandflewtoNewYork,onlytorealizethisshitwascomplicated.Raisingachildwasadamnsightmorethanprovidingfoodandshelter;italsoinvolvedafairamountofmindreading,multitasking,andpatience—allonaverysmallquantityofsleep.
GoodthingWeswasonlytheretofillinthegapuntilhissisterdecidedtobeamotheragainandcamehome.JustuntilIgetmyacttogether,she’dsaid,butamonthhadcomeandgonewithoutsomuchasatext.Still,Lauradidn’tneedhimremindinghertheirarrangementwastemporary.
WessatdownbesideLauraandtuckedherintohisside.Hewaitedafewminutesbutshedidn’teatasingleCheerio,makinghisstomachsink.Hisdumbcommentwasjustanotherprimeexampleofhisinabilitytodothis.Tobehere,attemptingtobeachild’scaregiver.Knowingwhatwoulddistractherandgetherspiritsbackup,hesnuckaCheerioandpoppeditintohismouth.
“Hey,”shecomplained.
“Couchsnacksarefairgame.Youwantfoodalltoyourself,yousitatthetable.Everyoneknowsthat.”
“No.”
Heshrugged.“Bettereatthemfast,beforeIsnagsomemore.”
Lauraturnedherbodytoshieldthebowlofdrycerealandshoveledafistfulintohermouth.Better.Shewasstillmid-chewwhenherspinesnappedstraightandshepointedatthetelevision.“Oooh.InstantPot.”
Wescozieddeeperintothecouchcushions.“Nowwe’retalking,kid.”Hewaiteduntilshewasdistractedbytheinfomercialtoworkhismindvoodoo.“Youknow,I’mnoexpertonmakingfriends.ButifIwashangingoutintheclassroom,pastingmacaroniontoconstructionpaperandstuff,justmindingmyownbusiness…andoneoftheotherkidsdidaperfectScooby-Dooimpression,Iwouldwantheratmycrafttable.Hundredpercent.”
Shesuckedinabreath.“IdoagoodScooby-Dooimpression.”
“Oh,that’sright.”Hesnappedhisfingers.“Youdo.How’sthatgoagain?”
“Scooby-Dooby-Dooooo,”shehowled,eyescrossingalittle.“Thatone?”
Washebiasedorshouldtherebeatalentscoutknockingontheirdoor?“That’squalitywork,Laura.It’slikeI’mintheroomwithScooby.”
Shebeamed.“Nowyoudoit.”
Hediditterriblyonpurpose.“Ican’tcompete.You’rethemaster.”
“Thanks.”Hisniececrawledupunderhisarmandlaidherheadonhischest.“Wedon’tgluemacaronitopaperatschoolanymore.WehaveiPadsnow.”
Insteadofaddressingherimplicationthathewasoutoftouch,WeslookeddownatthetopofLaura’shead,frozen.Thiswasnew.She’dnevercuddleduptohimbefore.
Unsureexactlyhowtoproceed,herelaxedhisarmaroundhershoulders,settledtheminasaunit,andwentbacktowatchingthetelevision.Iftherewasaweirdflipinthemiddleofhischest,heignoredit.Probablyjustfatigueorsomething.
Bethanywalkedthroughherlivingroom,toothbrushstuckinhermouth.Usingonehandtoscrubherpearlywhites,sherantheadmiring,oppositehandoverthejeweledthrowpillowsthatdecoratedhercouch.Shewiggledhertoesinherthickwhitecarpetandsighedhappily,movingthebrushtoherbackteethandcleaningthemwithavigorouscirclingofbristles.
Tonight’sJustUsLeaguemeetingwassettobegininanhour.Theirofficialpositivitywhiteboardwasarrangedattheperfectangleinthelivingroom,andtheblindsweredrawntoanoptimalposition,allowingintherightamountofSaturdayeveninglight,madehazybylate-fallweather.Champagnefluteswerearrangedonthekitchenisland,waitingtobefilledwithbubbly.She’dlitacandy-applecandleuponreturningfromherhairappointment,andtheinteriorofherhomecalledtomindasmall-townharvestfestival.
“God,I’mgood,”shesaid,thewordsgarbledbyhertoothbrush.Adribbleofwhitefoamcascadeddownherchinandsheswipeditaway.“Ew,Beth.”
Shejoggedupthestairstoherensuitebathroom,theglowingflickerofherfavoritevanillacandlesswayingagainstthewhitetile,beforeshespitintothesinkandwipedhermouth.Sheturnedhergoodsidetothemirrorandsmiled,givingherblondhairagentletousle.
“Welcome,everyone.Whatsmell?Oh,thecandle?IpickeditupatanoutdoorbazaarintheHamptonswhileshoppingforartworktostageourlatestflip.”Sheleanedclosetothemirrorandranhertonguealonghertoprowofteeth.“Glamorous?Me?No.You’resosweet.”
Shepushedawayfromhermarblevanity,turningonherbigtoeandenteringthebedroom.Twooutfitswerelaidoutonthebed.Acream-coloredcashmeresweaterthatleftoneshoulderbare,pairedwithblackleatherleggings.Andaredturtleneckdress.Sincesheusuallyworetheformerwithbootsandwouldn’tbeleavingthehouse,shewentwithoptiononeandslippedonapairofgoldballetflatstocomplementtheensemble.
“You’lldo,”shewhispered,lookingoverherreflectionwithacriticaleye.“You’vewornthisbefore,though.”
Bethanyscratchedatthesideofherneckonherwayintothewalk-incloset.Herpulsestartedtohammerbeneathherfingertipsandsheforcedherselftostopscratchingbeforesheleftredmarks.Shedidn’thavetimeforanoutfitchangenow.GeorgieandRosiewouldbearrivinganyminutetohelpsetupforthemeeting—
Thefrontdooropenedandcloseddownstairs,thevoicesofheryoungersisterandtheirbestfrienddriftingupthestairs.
Shetookacenteringdeepbreath.“Bethereinjustaminute!”shecalledcheerfully,yankinghangersofftheracksandrunningamentalchecklistoftheoutfitsshe’dwornsincetheinceptionoftheirwomen-poweredsupportgroup.Ifthemembersknewshewasagonizingoverheroutfit,theywouldlaughather.Tellhershewasbeingsilly.Heck,someofthemworevariationsofthesameensembletoeverymeeting,didn’tthey?
Theyweren’tBethanyCastle,though
No.Theywereahellofalotmoreauthentic.
Realizingshewasscratchingatherneckagain,Bethanyforcedherselftostop,findingasilkemerald-greentunicatthebackofherclosetwiththetagsstillhangingfromthewrist.Shesnappedthemoffandpulledthegarmentoverherhead,speed-walkingtowardthestairs.Beforedescending,shetuckedherhairartfullybehindoneearandfannedtheirritatedskinatherneck.Then,fingertipscasuallytrailingdownthebanister,shegreetedGeorgieandRosiewithasmile.“YouladieslooklikeIneedacocktail.”
Georgielaughedfromherperchonthekitchenstool.“Onit,”shesaid,poppingthecorkfromachillingbottleofchampagneBethanyhadarrangedinasilverbucketbesidetheflutes.
“I’monfood,”Rosiecalled,stickingatrayofsomethingdeliciouslookingintotheoven.“Beth,weneedtohaveaserioustalkaboutGeorgie.”
“I’mrighthere,”Georgieprotested.“Youcan’tmissme.”
“Letmeguess.”Bethanyacceptedaglassofchampagneandtookasmallsip.“Thisisbachelorettepartyrelated.”
Rosienodded.“Shewon’tcommittoaplan.She’snoncommittal.”
Georgiethrewupherhands,splashingchampagneontotheisland.“Idon’twantone.Theweddingistheparty.Idon’tneedapre-partyparty.”
Bethanystuckoutherbottomlip.“Pre-partiesserveapurpose.Itwillsaveyoufromdrinkingtoomuchandstumblingthroughthecha-chaslideonyourweddingday.You’llhavegottenitoutofyoursystem.”Shegrabbedafoldedkitchentowelandwipedupthefizzysplotchofalcohol.“Besides,I’vealreadyplannedit.There’sabinderwithcoloredtabsandeverything.”
Rosiesnortedintothebackofherwrist.“Knewit.”
“What?”Georgiesputtered,beforefallingsilentforamoment.“Details,please.”Sheshiftedonherstool.“Youknow…soIcansayno.Firmly.”
Bethanysmiledintoasipofchampagne.“Youwon’tsayno.”
Hercertaintywasn’tunfounded.Asaprofessionalhousestagerforherfamily’scompany,Brick&Morty,planning,executing,andbeautifyingwasBethany’spurposeonthisearth.Whenpresentedwithablankcanvas,shetooklight,shadow,spacing,practicality,andwowfactorintoaccount—andsheturnedanemptyshellintoahome.Nostitchoutofplaceorbookspineaskew.Perfection.Somethinginsideherneverstoppedyearningforthattip-topmountainpeak.Thatawedreactionshereceivedattheendofherstages.Thatrushofaccomplishment.
Atsomepointthatquestforperfectionhadbledintoeveryotheraspectofherlifeandcontinuedtobleed,andbleed,butthatwasapositivething.Right?
Whensherealizedherhandwascurledtootightlyaroundthechampagneflute,shesetitdownwithaflourishandsmiled.“We’restartingwithbrunchattheFourSeasons,movingontoanafternoonofpampering—you’llbegettingmarriedhairlessandshiny,you’rewelcome—andwe’llroundthenightoutwithaharmlessorgy.What’snottolove?”
“Stop.OhGod.”Georgiecoughed,eyestearing.“Champagne.Burningtheinsidesofmynose.Sopainful.”
“Tellhertherealplan,youevilwoman,”Rosiescolded,bitingbackasmile.
Bethanyrolledhereyes.“Fine.We’reendingthenightwithacombinedbachelor-bachelorettedinneratBuenaOnda.MomandDadwillbethere,too.Iknewthat’swhatyou’dwant.TravisandGeorgieforever.Yadayada.Youmakemesick.”
GeorgiejumpedoffherstoolandthrewherarmsaroundBethany’smiddle.“Iloveit.Icancommittothis.”ShesquealedandattemptedtocrushBethany’sribs.“Thankyou.It’sperfect.”
Bethanykissedhercheekandwavedheroff.“You’rewelcome.”
Thedoorbellrang.Bethanypickedupherchampagnefluteagain,holdingitwithaloosewrist,andputonabrighthostesssmileonherwaytothedoor.Detailsmattered.Everydetailmattered.Whensheopenedthedoorwithaflickofherwrist,leanedahandhighonthedoorframe,andtossedherhair,takingadramaticsipofchampagne,thewomenonherporchsawexactlywhatshewantedthemtosee.Awomanwhohaditalltogether.
Awomanwhomadeeverythinglookeffortless.
Tenminuteslater,twodozenwomenweresettledin,someonthecouch,otherssittingcross-leggedonthefloororevenstanding.Bethanytookherplaceinfrontofthewhiteboardandpickeduphermarker,twirlingitbetweenherfingersandgivingtheroomaslylook.
“Shallweopenwithoursong?”
Acheerliftedthealready-joyfulatmosphere.Theirthemesongwastotallyridiculous,hadbeencobbledtogetherafterwaytoomanydrinks,andwassungtothetuneof“JingleBells,”butitwastheirs.Thisclubwastheirs.Itwashardtobelievethey’dgrownfromthreememberswho’dhadthemisfortuneofbeingearlytoZumbaclass…intothis.
Thatnight,she’dbeengoodandfedupwiththemalepopulation,havingbeencheatedonbyacommunitytheaterdirector.She’dnoticedherfriendswereinsimilarsituationsanddecidedtobolsterherjourneytoaman-freelifestylewithaclubwherewomensupportedwomen.Nowtheywereaveritablefactionofasskickerswhometweeklytodiscusstheirgoalsandsupportoneanotherinthatjourney.She’dwatchedthemeekgrowmightyinthisveryroom,witnessedherownsisterandbestfriendreachfortheirprofessionaldreams.
Eachweek,Bethanystoodatthewhiteboardandlistedaccomplishmentssotheycouldbeseeninblackandwhite.Orgoldmetallic,asitwere.
Ifshecontinuedtorazzle-dazzlethemwithproofoftheirownamazingness,maybetheywouldn’trealizeshewaslongoverduetoaddherowntriumphtotheboard.Oh,she’dmadealotofnoiseaboutbranchingoutfromthefamilybusinessonherown.
Iwanttoswingasledgehammer.
Atthetime,she’dmeantit.Evennow,shemeantit.Theactualswingingwasyettohappen.
Bethanyclickedherheelstogether,holdingthemarkerlikeamic.“I’llstart.”Shemadeashowofclearingherthroat,garneringafewchucklesfromtheroom.“Ladyballs,ladyballs,we’renotonshortsupply…”
Everyonepickedupwheresheleftoff.“Ifachallengeseemstootough,justpokeitintheeye!”
“Olé!”Georgiefinished.
Withthenotesstillhangingintheair,Bethanytappedherfingernailsonthewhiteboard.“Whowouldliketogofirst?”ShesquintedatCheryl,who’dbeenstrugglingwithhernewjobhunt.“Howdidtheinterviewgothisweek?”
“Well.”Cherylpressedherlipstogether.“Verywell,actually.ThefirmmademeanofferandIusedittoleveragearaisefrommycurrentemployer.So…IbookedatriptoBarbados.”Sheslappedherhandstohercheeks.“Isthatcrazy?Ihaven’thadavacationinfouryears.”
“Notcrazy!”Georgiecalledonhertripbackfromthefridge,afreshbottleofchilledchampagneinherhand.“You’vedefinitelyearnedtherighttoloungeonthebeachanddrinkrumoutofacoconut.Orascubainstructor’snavel.Dealer’schoice!ThreecheersforCheryl.”
Clappingandwhistlingfilledtheroom.
Bethanywrote“leverage/Barbados/naveldrinking”ontheboardandturnedbacktotheroom.“Whoisnex—”
“Whataboutyou,Bethany?”Cherylasked,stillflushedfromtheapplause.“Youweresoexcitedtotryandflipahousebyyourself,withoutyourfamilybreathingdownyourneck.Youappliedforthoseconstructionpermitsmonthsago,right?Havetheycomethrough?”
Bethanyretainedherwidesmile,butascrewseemedtolooseninherbellybutton,droppingherstomachtothecarpet.Inhermind’seye,shecouldseethethickenvelopewhereshe’dstasheditinsidehersuitcaseandshovedittothebackofhercloset.Ithadbeenthereforweeks,tauntingher.
Whatwereyouthinking,strikingoffonyourown?
Sincegraduatingcollege,BethanyhadbeenstaginghousesforBrick&Morty,buttherewasapartofherthathadgrownrestlesswithpaintswatchesandshiplapandtastefulgreenery,whilehavingnosayonlayout.
She’dbeensosureshewantedthattochange.
“No,Ihaven’treceivedthepermitsyet,”shebreathed,herthumbbitingintothedry-erasemarkerwhenhervoicedidn’tsoundquitenaturalenough.“ButyoubetterbelieveI’llhearbacksoon.Ididn’twanttoresorttocallinginfavors,butdesperatetimes…”
Abeadofperspirationsliddownherspine.
“Wouldsomeoneelseliketo—”
“It’salittleodd,isn’tit?Stephenseemstogethispermitssofast,”Cherylcontinued,referringtoBethany’solderbrother.AlsoknownastheCEOofBrick&Morty,whowantedtokeepeverything—includingBethany—inherplace.Cherylgesturedtowardthefrontwindow.“Thehouseacrossthestreetonlywentonsalelastmonth.Iheardthey’realreadystartingdemoonMonday!Hemustbebribingsomeoneatthepermitoffice.”
AbuzzingstartedinBethany’sskull.“I’msorry.DidyousayBrickandMortyisstartingafliponMondayacrossthestreetfrommyhouse?”
“Mommighthavementionedduringmyfinaldressfitting,”Georgiesaidfromherleanagainstthewall,wincing.“Sorry,Beth.IthoughtStephentoldyou.”
“Hedidnot,butit’sfine.Imean”—Bethanyletoutacasuallaugh,tuckingaloosestrandofhairbehindherear—“withaconstructioncrewacrossthestreet,IguessI’llhavetostartwearingpantstothemailbox.Alittleannoying,butI’llcope.”
LaughterspilledoutaroundtheroomandBethanyusedthemomenttodivertfocusfromherself.Carryingontherestofthemeetingwasnoteasy,however,becausehermindkeptreturningtotwoveryalarmingfacts.
One:shecouldn’tstallanylonger.Eithershestartedherownfliporshebackedout—andthelatterwasn’tanoptionifshewantedtoretainherpride.
Two:WesDaniels,themanwhodroveherinsanewithhisTexastwangandeyesthatscrutinizedherfartooclosely,wouldbeworkingacrossthestreetfortheforeseeablefuture.Shesawhimonjobsitesduringthefinalstages,whenmeasuringforfurnitureorinstructingpainters.Butacrossthestreetfromherhome,Weswouldbeimpossibletoavoid.
AtwistinBethany’sbellytoldherWorldWarIIIwasonthehorizon.
Bringiton.ChapterTwo
Bethanystareddownatthepaperworkspreadacrossherbed.
Everytimeshestartedtogatheruptheconstructionpermits,shedroppedthemagainandpacedinstead.
Itwasnowornever.Putuporshutup.Shitorgetoffthepot.
Ifshewaitedanylongertocommencehersoloflip,peopleweregoingtogrowsuspicious.TheymightnotpegBethanyasacoward,buttheyweregoingtokeepaskingquestions.Acoupleofmonthsago,she’dannouncedtothefamilythatshewouldbestrikingoutonherown,sinceStephenrefusedtoletherrunasoloflip.
They’dbeenaghast.Andshewouldbelyingifshesaidthathadn’tshakenheralreadyshakyconfidence.
Bethanyunderstoodtheirdesiretomaintainthestatusquo.Afterall,shekepteverything,fromherthoughtstohersportsbras,inneatlittlecategorizedcompartments.Itwasafamilytraitandshe’dbeengiventhebiggestdoseofcontrolfreakitude.
Sowhywasflippingahousealonesoimportanttoher?
Whyhadshemadesuchamassiveissueofthewholething?
Whynotsticktostaging,apracticeinwhichshewasactuallyskilled?
Bethanysatdownonthefloorandarrangedherselfinameditativeposition.Sherestedthebacksofherhandsonherkneesandbreathedindeeply,desperatelytryingtoexhalethestressofwhatsheneededtodothismorning.
Visualize.
SeeyourselfwalkingacrossthestreetwhereBrick&Mortyhavealreadybangedthecompany’ssignaturesignintothefrontlawnandstarteddemo.
Seeithappeningandthendoit.
WesDaniels’ssmirkappearedinherheadandshefellbackwardontoacloudoffluffywhitecarpetwithagroan.Theyoungermanalwaysseemedtomakeithismissiontoneedleheruntilhercool,calm,andcollecteddemeanorfaltered.Hispresencewasgoingtomakethisalready-terrifyingmorningworse.
“Why?”Shescratchedatthespotonherneck.“WhyamIdoingthistomyself?”
Sheknewtheanswer,buthermomentofcouragehadbeenburiedbythepassageoftime.Makingherforgetthetinglingsensationinherbelly,thescaryexcitementofdecidingtotestherself.Yes,shewasagreatstager.Yes,itwasstillsomethingsheenjoyed,but…didshehavetoremaininonelaneforever?
Stayinglowtotheground,Bethanygotonherhandsandkneesandcrawledtoherbedroomwindow,peekingoverthesillatthehouseacrossthestreet.Intheshortamountoftimesincethecrewarrived,therewerealreadytoolsstrewnacrossthelawn,asawhorseinthedriveway,noise.Somuchnoise.
Constructionwasnotneat.
She’dbeenanidiottovisualizeherselfwithaperfectponytailandhigh-waistedjeans,sashayingherwayintoafixer-upperanddemolishingwallsinstyle.ReallifewasnotHGTV.Therewasnothirty-secondtakeofthehostburyinganaxinawallbeforethedirectoryelled“Cut!”andtherealcrewtookoveragain.Whensheheadedherownflip,shewouldbemakingallthedecisions,doingallthework.
Anditmightturnoutlessthanperfect.
Itmightturnoutterrible.
Bethanyturnedawayfromthewindowandleanedbackagainstthewall,pressingherfingerstightlytothecenterofherforeheadandbreathing,inandout.Inandout.Maybeitwastimetotalktoatherapist.Knowingone’sworstfaultsdidn’tmeanonecouldfixthemalone.
Bethanywasaprimeexampleofthat.
Whenshewasthirteen,she’dboughtapairofuncomfortableMaryJaneswithawedgeheel.Hermotherhadwarnedhernottowearthemtoschoolwithoutbreakingtheminfirst.Hadshelistened?No.Butshe’dcomehomewithasmileonherface,dancedupthestairs,andclosedherselfinsideherbedroom—beforefallingtothefloorwithagaspofpainandpryingofftheshoestorevealtwin,bleedingblisters.Thenshe’dbandagedthemupandworntheshoesagainthefollowingday.
Shewasonestubbornbitch.Andthethingshewasmoststubbornaboutwasalways,withoutfail,gettingeverythingjustright.
Ifthisflipendeduplessthanamazing,shewouldn’tbeabletoslapaBand-Aidonit.She’dhavetofaceeveryone’sinevitabledisappointment.She’dhavetowatchthedawningrealizationontheirfacesthatshewasn’tperfect.
IttookBethanyafewmorebracingbreathstoclimbtoherfeet.Shestoodinthecenterofherroomforamoment,thecrisp,whitedécorandtastefulTiffanypictureframesmakingherfeelslightlymoreincontrol.
Well.
Ifshewasgoingtomakeastatementthismorning,she’dbetterlookgooddoingit.Witharesolveshedidn’tnecessarilyfeel,Bethanythrewbackhershouldersandmarchedintoherwalk-incloset,silkrobeflutteringinherwake.
Wespausedwiththewaterbottlehalfwaytohislips,eyebrowsliftingatthesightofBethanycrossingthestreet.Witharunwaywalklikethat,thewomanwasonsomekindofmission.Hecouldn’thelpbuttakeamomenttoappreciatebeinginthepresenceofaliving,breathinggoddess,becausesoonenough,shewassuretoraindownholyhellonsomebody’shead.Probablymine.
ToWes,thenonstopcontentionbetweenhimandBethanywasforeplay.Plainandsimple.Butthemoretimethatpassed,themorehewasstartingtothinkthatBethanywasonadifferentwavelength.Onethatdidn’tincludethemsweatingitoutbetweenthesheets.Which,Lord,he’dbeenfantasizingaboutdailyandnightlysincejumpstreet.
Basedontheinformationhe’dbeenabletogleanviaTravis,whotookprideinhavingthegossipthroughhisfiancée,Bethanywasn’tthekindofwomanwhotookpartinafling.Untilrecently,she’dbeeninterestedinthewholerelationshipthing,butwiththeinceptionoftheJustUsLeague,she’dgoneonamanhiatus.SoevenifWeswasinPortJeffersonforthelonghaul,hischanceswereslim.
Hisslimchancesmightalsobeduetotheaddictivevitriolthey’ddeveloped,butstoppingwaseasiersaidthandone.Atthispoint,hecouldn’tverywellshowuponherdoorstepwithadozenlong-stemmedrosesandtellhershewasthemostbreathtakingwomanhe’devermet.
She’droundhousehiminthenuts.
TheywerehalfwaythroughOctober,butnobodywouldguessitbasedonthewayBethanywasdressed.Shewaswearingawhitestraplesstubetoptuckedintoalong,flowingskirtwithsomekindofgirlyflowerpatternonit.Herhairwasdown,curledalittle,andblowinginthewind,showingoffherprettyneck.
“Hell,”hemuttered,shakinghishead.Thewoman’sbrotherwasnomorethantenfeetaway,buteventhatwasn’tenoughtostopWesfromappreciatingtheshakeofhertits,thewayherskirt’sthinmaterialoutlinedherswayinghips.
Therewasnothing,nothing,morebeautifulthanwhathewaslookingatrightnow.Hispalmsstartedtoperspireinsidehisworkgloves,afireballoflustlightingupandstartingtospininhisbelly.He’dbeentheonetowakeupearlythismorning,insteadofLaura,anticipatingtheextrachancestoseeBethany.Beinherenvironment.Maybeevenspeakwithher,getariseoutofherwithajokeabouttheiragedifference,makeherblushorherblueeyesflash.Itgothisbloodmovinglikenothingelse.Noteventhedangerofasold-outSaturday-nightrodeo.
BethanyCastle.Theultimatethrillride.
Itshouldn’texcitehimtoseehersodeterminedtoshakeuptheirorderlyconstructionzone,buthell,diditever.Comeonthen,darlin’.Don’tholdback.
Whenshereachedthedoor’sthreshold,Wesleanedahipagainstthewallanddidhisbesttolookbored,wheninreality,hissensesweresharpenedlikethetipofanumber-twopencilbeforeatest.
Bethanybreezedthroughtheopeningleftbythemissingfrontdoor,andthecacophonyofmalevoicesandSheetrockmutilationceased.Herscent,anexpensivemixtureofteaandflowers,reachedhimthroughthecloudofsawdust,sendingaripplingtightnessthroughhisabdomen.Shewasholdingamanilaenvelopeinherrighthandandhecaughttheslightesttremorpassthroughherfingersbeforeshecrossedherarmsoverherchest.
“Hey,Beth,”Stephencalledfromthebackofthehouse,hisvoicegrowingcloserasheprogressedtowheretheywerestanding,swipingawristacrosshissweatyforehead.“Youneedsomething?It’salittleearlyformeasurements,isn’tit?We’vebarelyfinishedguttingtheplace.”Bethany’sbrothergesturedtothecarnagesurroundinghisworkboots.“Won’tneedcouchesforawhile.”
Wesheardherlongintakeofbreath.Didit…hitchthereinthemiddle?
Henarrowedhiseyes.
TherehadbeensometensionbetweenBethanyandStephensinceWeshadarrivedinPortJefferson.Withoutappearingtoointerested,he’dmanagedtogatheralittleintelfromTravisandknewBethanywaslookingtoforsakethefamilybusinessandstrikeoutonherown,leadingtothesiblingsbeingatodds.Butitdidn’tgetinthewayoftheirjobsandtheystillsharedawisecrackonoccasion,sohe’dletthewholenotionofariftfallbythewayside.
Thatsaid,hedefinitelycaughttheflashinBethany’seyeswhenStephenreducedherjobtocouches.
Notthathewouldeverletonthathepaidsuchcloseattention,buthe’dseenoneofthefinishedhousesputupforsalebyBrick&Morty.Themenmightberesponsiblefortheheavylifting,butBethany’sstagingsoldthedamnplace.Sheworkedacertainmagicthatturnedaplacefromfouremptywallstoa…lifestyle.God,thatsoundeduppityasshit,butitwastrue.Shecreatedabetterversionofwhateverlifebuyerswereleadingandmadethemenvisionthemselveswithinit,almostlikeachallenge.EvenWeshadbeencompelledtouphisdecoratinggame,sohe’dbroughtLauratoTargetandcamehomewithanarearug,twonewlamps,andapumpkinpie–scentedcandle.
He’dlieaboutthatunderoath.
Bottomline,hedidn’tappreciatethewayBethany’sbigbrotherhadwhittleditalldowntocouches.Morelikecouches,paintcolor,shelving,storage,character.Hebitdownhardonhisbottomliptostophimselffromspeakingup.TheinnerworkingsoftheCastlefamilywasnoneofhisbusiness.Hewasanextrainamoviethatwouldcontinuelongafterhe’dgonebacktoTexas.
Tryingtoignorethesweepofdisquietinhischest,WesfocusedonBethany.Therewassomethingoffabouthertodayanditwasmakinghimextrareckless.Herusualcomposurewasthere,butitwasontheblink.Comingandgoing,asifshecouldonlyhangontoitforamoment,beforeitslippedaway.
There.Shefoundherconfidence,firminghershouldersandpinningStephenwithalook.“I’mnotgoingtoneedmeasurementsforthisflip.”Shepriedthepaperworkfromwhereshe’dstuffeditbeneathherarm,thenpromptlyshoveditbackintoplace.“Mypermitsarrivedfortheprojectacrosstown,so…that’sit.I’mgoingtobeginworkonitnextweek.”
Stephencockedaneyebrow.“Youcan’tdoboth?”
“No.”
“Whythehellnot?”
“BecauseIwanttogivethisjobmywholefocus.”Sheshruggedashoulder.“Andifyouthinkit’sjustamatterofpickingoutcouches,getKristintodoit.”
TheoldestCastlepaledalittle.Notsurprising.Stephen’swifewasslightlyunbalancedandevensheknewit.IfKristinwasputinchargeofstaging,shewouldprobablydoahorrificjobonpurpose,justsoStephenwouldhavetohurtherfeelings,givingheranopportunitytomilkhisguiltafterward.
Menandwomenandtheirmindgames.Hell,hedespisedthatshit,andyet,lookathimandBethany.Theydancedaroundeachotherwithinsults,makingabigshowofbeingincompatiblewhenChristknewthatwasthefurthestthingfromthetruth.
Wesknewwhatincompatiblelookedlike.Hell,hegrewupinfostercare.Hecouldprobablywriteabookaboutthewaypeoplecouldmakeeachotherunhappy.Intheepilogue,he’dleteveryoneknowhe’dneverbeoneofthem.
Yes,sir.Hewouldbeshackle-freeforever.
ButStephenalmostseemedtoenjoythoseshacklesandthemindgameshiswifeinflicted.Adamnedconfusinganomaly,tobesure.
“Bethany.”Stephensighed.“Bereasonableaboutthis.”
Sherolledhereyes.“You’veknownaboutthissincethebeginningoffall.I’msorryifyoudidn’ttakemeseriouslyenoughtoplanaccordingly.”
Stephen’snostrilsflared,hissilenceinthewakeofBethany’sbarbmakingthecrewshiftnervously.“Iwouldhavetakenyouseriouslyifthepermitshadn’tbeenissuedweeksago.”
Bethanyjoltedanddroppedtheenvelope,sendingpaperworkspewingoutontotheground.Shebentdowntopickitupquickly,thosetremorsbackinherfingers.“Gotohell,Stephen,”shemutteredunderherbreath.“Youshouldn’thavebeencheckinguponmewithyourfriendsatthepermitoffice.”
WesnoticedthatStephenlookedregretfuloverwhathe’dsaid,butWeswasmoreconcernedaboutBethany.WhatthehelldidStephenmean,she’dgottenthepermitsweeksago?Whywouldshewaitthislongtostartthejob?Orevensayanything?
ShestraightenedwithredcheeksandWesgroundhisbackteethtogether.
Whateverwasgoingonhere,hedidn’tlikeit.Sure,hegotariseoutofheronceinawhile,butshealwayshitback.Bethanydidn’tgetshakenuplikethis.
“Comeon,Beth.”Stephensighedagain.“Whereareyougoingtogetacrewbynextweek?LetmefinishhereandI’llreschedulemynextjobsoIcanhelpyouout.”
Herlaughwasshort.“Byhelpout,youmeantakeover.”
Stephendidn’tbotherdenyingit.“We’reheadingintowinterinafewmonths.You’renotgoingtofindanyonegoodwho’slookingforagigthatshort.Trustme.Everyoneworthadamnisalreadyinthisroom.”Hegesturedtohissister.“Includingyou.”
“Oh,comeon,jackass,”shereturned.“Don’tbackpedalnow.Youweredoingsowellatbeingcondescending.”
Wesbreathedalittleeasierwithhertonebacktonormal,buthisoptimismdippedagainwhenhesawhowtightlyshewasholdingtheenvelope.Hergazeflittedovertohimandthecolorofhercheeksdeepenedanothershade.
Shit.
Wasitpossibleshe’dputoffstartingtheflipbecauseshewasnervous?Thatdidn’ttrack,consideringwhatheknewaboutBethanyandherball-busternature.Buthiseyesweretellinghimadifferentstoryaltogether.Shewasvulnerableinfrontoftheentirecrewrightnow,andherthroatseemedtobestuckinapermanentstateofswallowing.Alotlikehisown.
Shit.
“I’mgoingwithher,”Wessaid,strippingoffhisgloves.
Someonedroppedasledgehammerinthebackofthehouse.
“W-wait.What?”Stephensputtered.“Now?”
“Yup.”HefinallymadeeyecontactwithastupefiedBethany.“Webettergetagameplantogetherandstartroundingupmaterials.”
Shecouldn’tseemtolandonaresponse.“I…I…”
“Youwhat?”
“Imean,thisisallveryRenéeZellwegerinJerryMaguireofyou,but…”
HeknewexactlywhichscenefromJerryMaguireshewasreferringto—whenTomCruisequitshisfancysportsagentjobandRenéeistheonlyonewhojoinshim,eventhoughhe’sbeenreducedtostealingtheofficegoldfish—butBethanyneededtoknowacceptinghishelpwouldn’tchangeanythingbetweenthem.Otherwiseshemightturnhimdown,andhegotaweirdpinchinhisthroatwhenhethoughtofherallalone,tryingtoinstalldrywallwithoutbreakinganail.“JerryMaguire?Neverheardofit.Thatoneofyourgeneration’sblack-and-whitefilmsorsomething?”
Thatsparkzippedbackintohereyesandreliefcausedahitchinhischest.“Apologies.IshouldhavereferencedFast&FuriousNine.”
Hebitbackasmile.“Youreadytogoyet?”
Sheseemedtoremembereveryonewaswatchingthemandstartedchewingonthatsexybottomlip.“I’mthinking.”
“Bethany,”Stephencutin.“You’rereallygoingtocomeupinhereandstealoneofmybestguys—”
“Thanks,pal,”Wessaid,tippinganinvisiblehat.
“WhatdoyouthinkDadisgoingtosayaboutthis?”Stephenfinished.
“Really?”Bethanyintoned.“‘I’mtellingDad’?ArewebackinthestationwagondrivingtoHersheyParkwhenwewereeight?”
Faceslightlyred,Stephenlookedoverhisshoulderatthemenbehindhim.“Ionlymeantit’sgoingtostresshimout,usmovinginseparatedirections.We’resupposedtobeoneteam.”
“Well,youknowwhattheysay,Stephen,”Bethanysaidbreezily.“There’snoassholeinteam.”
Wescoughedalaughintohisfist.
Bethanycaughthim,herlipsjumpingatonecornerbeforeshesobered.“BeforeIagreetoanything”—sheshotalookattheiraudienceandmovedclosertoWes,loweringhervoice—“Ithinkweshouldtryandgetthroughaplanning-stagemeetingfirst.Youknow,justtoconfirmwecanactuallydoit.”
Hematchedherquiettone.“Iwasthinkingthesamething.Weshoulddoitfirst.Cutthetension.”
“Icanhearyou,”Stephenwailed.
“YouknowwhatImean,”Bethanysnappedunderherbreath,allworkedupandbeautiful.Soclosehecouldtastetheexpensivecoffeeshe’ddrankthatmorningintheairbetweenthem.“Ifwecangetthroughameetingwithoutbitingeachother’sheadsoff,thenwe’llconsiderworkingtogether.”
“We’rejustgoingtopretendyouhaveotheroptions,huh?”
Sheblinkedanddrewinadeepbreath.“Arewehavingameetingornot?”
Sharpnessjabbedhiminthemiddle.“Yeah.”
Hisanswersurprisedher,butsheonlylethimseeitforasecond,beforesheturnedonasandaledheelwithahairflip.“Stephen,ifyoubringthisupattherehearsaldinnerandruintheevening,I’llcastrateyou.Asyouwere,boys.”ShestoppedatthedoortoglancebackatWesandheheldhisbreath.“Meetyouatthehouse.”ChapterThree
Whathappenedtomyneat,orderlylife?
Bethanysatinthedriver’ssideofherMercedes,staringatthebustedchildhoodhomeofTravisFord,hersister’sfiancé.Shestillcouldn’tbelievehe’dgivenherthehousefreeandclear.Sure,ithadbeenpartofhisplantowinbackGeorgieaftertheirepicbreakup,butstill,themovehadbeengenerous,tosaytheleast.
Eventhoughsaidhousewasliterallyfallingdown.
Iftheydidn’tdemolishitthemselves,thenextstiffbreezewouldprobablydothejobontheirbehalf.Overgrownweedsandgnarledtreesallbutobscuredtheviewofthehousefromthedrivewayandmainroad.Bethanyhadn’tevenbeeninsideyet,buttheinteriorhadtobeevenworse.
Startingfromscratchwasnotinherwheelhouse.Sheusuallywalkedintoafullyfinishedhomeandappliedthefinalbrushstrokes.
Whatifsheburiedasledgehammerintoawallandacolonyofspidersburstoutlikeageyser?HopefullyshecouldduckintimesotheyalllandedonWes
Wes
Whatjusthappened?
OutofeveryoneinPortJefferson,Weswasthelastpersonshewouldexpecttovolunteertohelpher.Sleepwithher,yes.Confinehimselftoclosequarterswithherandtakedirection?No.No,shedefinitelyhadn’texpectedthat.
Itwasalmostasifhe’dseenthroughthebravadothatfooledeveryoneelse,straighttothemessbeneath.Hadthatlefthimnochoicebuttohelp,whetherhewantedtoornot?Ifthatwasthecase,sheneededtodoawaybetterjobofmaskingherinsecuritiesandflaws.EspeciallyfromWes,withwhomshewagedaconstantwarofwords.Andnowtheywereworkingtogether.
Inthespaceofasinglemorning,nothingwasneatandorderlyanymore.
Theroadaheadwasadramaticcurve,andshecouldn’tseefarenoughintothedistance.Asathoroughplanner,theuncertaintymadeherfeellikeaballoonfloatingaimlesslyintotheclouds,noideawhenshewouldburst.
Wouldtherebenothingbutairinsideofher,too?
Bethanyjumpedwhenhercellphonebuzzedontheconsole.
WhenGeorgie’snameblinkedonthescreen,shepickeditupandhittalk.“Really?Newshasspreadalready?IjustleftStephen’sjobsitetenminutesago.”
“Youknowhowitworks.StephentoldDad,DadtoldMom,Momcalledmelikeacatwithacross-eyedcanaryinhermouth.”
Hernosewrinkled.“Thatimageryisunsettling.”
“Iwantyoursideofthestorywhileyoubandyaboutaglassofwine.Iwon’trestuntilithappens.IsittruethatWespulledaZellweger?”
Bethanylaugheddespitehernerves.“I’llobligeyoutomorrownightatZumbaclass.”
“OhmyGod.Iforgot.”
“Nope.Kristinistorturingusforguessingshewaspregnantbeforeshecoulddoabig,dramaticreveal.”
“Youguessed,notme,andwhenisshegoingtotellStephen?”
“Probablyasplitsecondbeforeyousay‘Ido.’Itwouldsatisfyoursister-in-law’ssenseofdrama.Pictureit.Genderrevealbywayofweddingobjection.”WithGeorgielaughinginherear,BethanycheckedtherearviewmirrorintimetoseeWes’struckturnintothedriveway.“Tomorrownight,Georgie.Theremightevenbemoretotellbythen.”
“Areyousure?Iwaskindofhopingforrightthehellnow.”
“Onedoesnotsimplybandywinebeforenoon.”
“It’smypre-weddingweek,”Georgiedisagreed.“Daydrinkingisnotonlyallowed,butencouraged.I’vealreadygotRosieontheotherlineawaitingatimeandlocale.”
“Areyouavoidingworkingonyourvows?”
“Yes,ofcourseIam!”
Bethanysnorted.“Seeyoutomorrow,nutcase.”
Shecutoffhersistermid-wailandschooledherfeatures,climbingoutofhercaratthesametimeWesunfoldedhislean,muscledbodyoutofhistruck.Momentarilyforgettingabouttheprofessionalismshewantedtopresent,hertraitorousgazewanderedupthewornmaterialofhisdustyjeans,takingitstimemovingoverhisthickthighsandtheoldgrayT-shirtwhereitbrushedhishard-workingzipper
Comeon,shecouldn’thelpbutnoticethewaythosemetalteethstrainedtokeephispackagefromunwrappingitself.
MenfromLongIslandworelooserjeans.
Hewaslivingherenow—shouldn’theabidebythecustomarywardrobe?
Annoyedatthesteamswirlinginherbelly,Bethanyzoomedherattentiontohisfacewithresolve,onlytocatchhisknowingwink.“HereIam,boss,”hesaidgruffly.“Putmetowork.”
Shewassilentforafullminute.
Whatbodylanguagedidawomandisplaywhenshegotwet?Didshepressherthighstogetherorlickherlips?Donotdoanyofthosethings.Standstill.Justletthemoisturespreadandthoseintimatemusclescoilwithoutanyoutwardreaction.
Bethanyclearedherthroatandfocusedonpreparingherwords.Thismorningmighthavemovedfasterthanthespeedoflight,butshe’dhadsometimetothinkonthedrivetohersoloflip.She’dalwayskindofdisregardedWes’sadvancesassomethingofajokebeingplayedatherexpense.Howmanytimeshadhemadecracksaboutherage?Sometimesshebelievedthathewasphysicallyinterestedinher,andothertimesshetoldherselfnottobesuckedintowhatevergamehewasplaying.Still,justincasehewasreallyinterestedintakinghertobed,sheneededtomanagehisexpectations.
“Wes?”
“Yes,Bethany.”
“Ifyouvolunteeredtohelpmethinkingitmightbeaniftylittleinroadtosleepingtogether,youcanforgetit.EvenifIwasn’tonavoluntarymanhiatus,itwouldn’tbehappening.”
Herstomachknittedwaitingforhisresponse.Whywasshesoworriedhemightdisappointherandrenegeonhisoffertohelp?Theydidn’thavethekindofrelationshipwhereonecouldlettheotherdown.Theydidn’thavearelationship,period.
Wes’sexpressionhadn’tchangedasingleiota.Anditremainedimpassiveasheusedabootedfoottopushoffhistruck.“Ifwe’regoingtoworktogether,”herespondedslowly,“you’regoingtostartgivingmealittlemorecredit.”
“Um,okay?Letmesiftthroughthesexualinnuendoesyou’vebeenmakingforamonthandfindthiscredityouspeakof.”
Heslicedahandthroughtheairbetweenthem.“Sexisoffthetable.”
Bethanyrearedback,trulyawkwardsoundssputteringinherthroat.“Itwasneveronthetable,cowboy.”
Hisskepticalexpressionsaidhethoughtotherwise,buthewiselyrefrainedfromvoicinghisincorrectopinionoutloud.“Look.I’mattractedtoyou,Bethany.Likehell.WouldIliketospendacouplesweatyafternoonswithyouinthesackfindingoutifyoufuckaswellasyoufight,yeah.Ireallywould.ButIwouldn’tusethisjobasleveragetomakeithappen.SolikeIsaid,sexisoffthetablenow.”
“Thisisn’tgoingtowork,”shewheezed.
“Becauseyouwantsexonthetable?”
“Stopphrasingitlikethat!It’ssex.Notaplacemat.”Thiswasalreadyspiralingoutofcontrol.“Andthisisn’tgoingtoworkbecauseofthewayyou—”
“Getunderyourskinlikeanitchyoucan’tfindwithtwohands?Feeling’smutualandIcan’tdoanythingaboutthat.”Heheldouthispalmfaceup.“Keys?”
“Dropdead.”
Weswasalreadystridingpasther.“IonlyspentayearworkingconstructionwhenIwasnineteen,butitwasenoughtoknowthis.Firstthingyou’regoingtowanttodoisgivethisflipaname.Personalizeit.Makeitmatter.”Hereachedthefrontdoor,stopped,backedup,thenkickeditopenwhileBethanygaped.“HowdoesWaroftheRosessound?Seemsappropriate.”
BethanyhustledpastWesintothehouse,carefulnottobrushagainsthim.“Nowwho’smakingold-timeyfilmreferences?”
“I’mnottooproudtosuckuptotheboss…”
Wes’svoicetrailedoffwhenhesteppedintothehousebesideBethany.
Theirsightadjustedtothelackoflightatthesametime.
“Shit,”theywhisperedinunison.
Theymightaswellhavebeenstandingoutside.Bethanydidn’tknowwheretolookfirst.Thedirtcakingthewallsandfloor?Theboulder-sizedholeintheceiling,completewithtreebranchessnakinginsideandgrowingalongtheexposedbeams?Twowindowswerebroken.Thedrip-drip-dripofwatercamefromdownthehallway,whichwasespeciallyominousbecauseithadn’trainedinaweek.
“We’recallingittheDoomsdayFlip.”ShesensedWeswatchingher.
“We?”
Bethanyhedged.“Idon’tthinkIcan…well,thatistosay,surelyonepersoncouldn’ttacklethisalone,so…”
“Hatetobreakittoyou,darlin’,butIdon’tthinktwopeoplecantacklethisone.Notifyouwanttosticktoareasonabletimeframe.”Hesquintedhisrighteye.“Wehaveahiringbudget?”
Therewasnomistakingtheeasingofpressureinherchestwhenheusedtheword“we.”“ConsideringTravisgiftedmethehouse,it’saprettyhealthybudget.Wecanaffordadditionallabor.”Sheshifted.“ButIwanttomakethedecisions.”
Henoddedonce.“I’mhearingyou,Bethany.”
Howwasthisthesamemanwhotalkedsobluntlyaboutfuckingbackinthedriveway?WhowasWesDaniels?Acrass,innuendo-crackinggoodol’boy?Anhonorableguywhoshoweduptoraisehisnieceatamoment’snoticeandZellweger’dinfrontofhisbros?Hevacillatedtooquicklybetweentheoppositesidesofhimself.Godhelpherifthereweremorelayerstothisman.Twowasalreadyconfusingenough.
Wesproducedapencilfrombehindhisearandanotebookfromhisbackpocket,flippingitopentothemiddle.“Let’stalkfloorplan.Whatdoyouhaveinmind?”
Youwouldthinkshe’dneversetfootinsideahousebefore.OrloggedamillionhourslisteningtoStephenandherfathertalkmeasurementsandlayout.Theveryfundamentalsofconstructionhadbeenherbedtimestories.Now,givenablankcanvasforthefirsttime,assoonasshehadaburgeoningidea,shediscardedit,mentallycitingareasonsomeonewouldn’tlikeit.Oritwouldn’tbeexactlyright.Howlonghadshebeenstandingthereinsilence,staringatthewallsandbeggingthemtoinspireher?
“Talkitout,”Wessaid,soundingalmostbored,butwhensheglancedup,hewaswatchingherintently.
Bethanyswallowedhardandturnedinacircle,hersandalsmakingasiftingsoundonthedirtyfloor.“Weneeditfullygutted,obviously.Thekitchenneedstobetwiceaslarge,whichwillmeansacrificingthetinydiningroomforacozybreakfastnook.”Shewetherlips.“Thisisastarterhouseforsure.Whichmeanskids.Parentsneedingtowatchthemfromthekitchenatalltimes.They’llneedextradiningspace,sowecanputinachest-highdividingwalltodoubleasabreakfastbar.Canwemakethewholefrontofthehousevisiblefromthekitchen?”
“Isthatwhatyouwant?”
WhatshewantedwasaYes,that’sagreatidea.Apparentlyshewasn’tgettingit,though.“Yes,”sheforcedherselftosay.Ananswerthatrequiredrelyingtotallyonherowninstincts.“That’swhatIwant.”
Hemadesomenotesonhispad,lookingmucholderwithhisfurrowedbrow.“Youbraveenoughtotourtherestofthehouse?”
Shegavehimaneyeroll.“IthinkIcanhandleit,”shemuttered,alreadysteppingoversomebrokenglassandpickingherwaydownthehallway.
AratcamecareeningoutofthefirstdoorwayandtruckedapathrightacrossBethany’sfoot.“Oh!Ratratrat.No.Noooo!”Withherscreechechoingoffthehallwaywalls,andpotentiallyputtingthemindangerofthehousecollapsing,BethanyturnedandscaledWes’sbodylikeahystericalrockclimber.
Hedroppedhispadandpenciljustintimetoaccommodateher,hisonlyreactiontoraiseaneyebrow.Gettingherfeetoffthefloorrequiredlockingheranklesatthesmallofhisbackandifshehadn’tbeensosquicked-outoverherbrushwithrodentia,shewouldhavenoticedhedidn’tsomuchasflinchorstrainunderherweight.Shewouldthinkofitlater,though.Alot.“First,weexterminate,”sheheavedbreathilybesidehisear,pattinghimtwiceontheshoulder.“Canyoutakemeoutside,please?”
“Uh-huh.”Intheslowestturneverexecutedbymanoranimal,Wesstartedasloth-liketrekbackthewaythey’dcome.
“Can’tyougoanyfaster?”
Sheignoredtheshiverthattraveleddownherspinewhenhislaughtickledherneck.“Wouldn’twanttodropyou,darlin’.”
“Yourarmsaren’tevenaroundme.It’sallcling.”
“Ijustdon’twanttoleadyouon.Sexisoffthetable,remember?”
“Move!Mylegsarestartingtoshake.”
Hegroanedandwrappedherinhisarms,onebeneathherbutt,theotherlockingaroundthecenterofherback.“Bethany,I’mstartingtothinkyousaythisshitonpurposetotortureme.”
Shestruggledtoformulatearesponsebutcouldn’tlocateone.Notwhensynapseswerefiringinherbrain,likecoffeehadbeenpouredonacircuitboard.She’dbelyingifsheclaimedshe’dneveroncewonderedhowWes’sbodywouldmeldwithhers.She’dalsobelyingifsheclaimedtherealitywasn’tunnervinglybetter.Hisshoulderswerethekindawomancouldpressherfaceintoandlaugh.Theywere…inviting.Warm.Strong.Andtheyconnectedtoatanthroatwithlotsofinterestingstubble.Toointeresting.
“Youwantmetodisrobeforthisexam?”
“What?”Shejoltedandslippedslightlylowerinhisholdandfeltit.Felthiserectionthroughthefilmofherskirt.Weshissed,hisgaitslowingtoastop,andtheyjustkindofhoveredthereintheentryway,gravitypressinghersoftnessdownonhisthicksex,hisbreathraspinginherear,Bethany’strappedinherlungs.“Labor,”sheforcedout.“Weneedtohirelabor.Let’stalkaboutthat.”
Theforearmrestingonthesmallofherbackflexed—andwasitherimaginationordidhislipsbrushherhair?“Labor.Right.”
Atremormeanderedthroughherlimbs.“We’llhavetolookoutsidePortJeff.”
ShefeltWes’sinternalvibration.Oneofhishandsfistedinherskirt.“Bethany,ifyouexpectmetofocusonagoddamnwordyou’resaying,wecan’tbeoneloweredzipperawayfromf—”
“Whoa.Don’tfinishthatsentence.”Wesacknowledgingtheircompromisingpositionoutloudhadtheeffectofapaintballtotheface.Whatwasshedoing?Shedidn’tevenlikethisman.Shecouldn’tnailhimdownasatype—andsheneverhadthatproblemwithmen.Theywereself-involvedpretendingnottobeself-involved,lazy,overlyambitious,ordownrightliars.Wes?Hewasjustmessy.Thatwastheonlycategoryhefitinto.No,wait,hewasalsotooyoung.Howcouldsheforgetthatlittlepieceofthepie?Withasterndirectivetostopbeinganidiot,Bethanyunhookedherankles,letherlegsdrop,andpushedawayfromhistensebody.“Therewasarat,”shesaidtodefendherself.“Hehadbloodstainsonhisteethandadefiniteairofmenace.”
Withahumorlesslaugh,Westurnedandstampedoutofthehouse,leavinghisbackmusclesripplinginhiswake.
HestartedtalkingassoonasBethanyexitedthestill-opendoorbehindhim.“Ifit’sallrightwithyou,I’llroundupsomementoputonthepayroll.”Ashesaidit,hesettledhisthumbsintheloopsofhisjeans,likehewasgoingouttowranglesomecattleinafewminutes.“Ican’tbehereeveryminuteoftheday.I’llhavetoleavetocollectLaurafromschoolandIwon’tfeelcomfortableleavingyouwithjustanyone.”
Herrighteyetwitchedathishigh-handedtone.“You’llbeleavingmewithmyself,cowboy.Aresponsiblehumanwoman.”
“Bethany,youcanmaketherulesabouteverythingelse.Butyou’regoingtolearnrealquickthatIwon’tcompromiseyoursafety.”
“MyGod.”Sheslappedherhandsoverherface.“ThisisascenestraightoutofaWestern.Nextyou’regoingtocallmelittleladyandhockaloogieintoaspittoon.”
Westossedbackhisheadandlaughed
“I’llbeinchargeofhiring,”shesaidwithatightsmile,glidingtohercar.
Theinfuriatingmansteppedintoherpath,thehumorbleedingquicklyfromhisface.“I’mtakingcareofit.Nocompromises.”
Shepokedhimintherightpec.“Thisfeelssuspiciouslylikeamachomaleritualwhereyouinsinuateyourselfasleaderofthepack,thenmaketherulesofengagementregardingtheavailablefemale.”
“Allowmetoclearupyoursuspicions.That’sexactlywhatthisis.”
Bethanyblinkedatleastseventeentimes.“Weagreedsexwasoffthetable!Eventhoughitwasneverevenremotelyonthetable!”
Wescrossedhisarms.“Doesn’tmeanIwantitonthetableforanyoneelse.”
Alookofwonderwaftedacrossherface.Whywassheevensurprisedbythisbehavior?Oneeveningseveralweeksback,whileRosieandDominichadbeensmackinthemiddleofsplitsville,thegirlshadembarkeduponanightoutinthecitythatwaspromptlycrashedbythemen.Wesincluded.
Averynicedowntown-finance-stylegentlemanhadjustpurchasedheracocktailandwascomplimentingherdresswhenWespluckedthedrinkoutofherhandandslidtheguyatwentytocoverit,hisgazetellinghimpointedlytoBeatit,bitch
“Thischauvinismisunacceptableinthegoldenageoffemalesuperheroesandpegging,Wes.”
Shesensedhewastryingnottolaugh.“Youknow,Ikindofsensedyou’dbeintotyingupamanandproddinghimtodeath.”
Bethanywavedherhands.“Ididn’tsayIwasintoit.”
“Sureaboutthat?”Hetuckedhistongueintohischeek.“Itwasrightthereonthetipofyourtongue.”
“I’dliketoshovemyfootupyourassrightnow.Doesthatcount?”
Hiseyescrinkledatthecorners.“I’lldothehiring.Youcallanexterminatorandalandscaper.Carveoutsometimethisweektogopickoutmaterials.Tile,flooring,cabinets.”
Bethanyhedged.
“TheweddingiscomingupthisSunday.Nosenseintakingonthejoboffindingacrewwhenyou’realreadyswamped.”
Shecouldconcedethisonethingorstandtherearguingforanothermonth,andfrankly,shewasbeginningtoalmostenjoysparringwithWesalittletoomuch.Besttogetoutoftherenow.“Fine.You’reinchargeofhiring.”
“Great.Let’saimtodemonextweek.”
Bethanynoddedandgavehimawideberthassheheadedtohercar.Shesettledherhandonthedriver’s-sidedoorandstopped,tappinghernailsonthewhitecurve.Wes’seyeswereonher.Shecouldfeelthem.Climbingintohercaranddrivingawaywithoutanotherwordwouldbeexactlywhatheexpected,butshecouldn’tbringherselftodoitjustyet.Becauseasobnoxiousasthismancouldbe,shedidn’tfeelnearlyasaloneordauntedasshehadthismorning.
Galling,really.
“Wes?”
“Yeah.”
“Thankyou.”Shesniffed.“Okay?”
“Okay.”Hewinkedather.“Wecanstillpretendtohateeachother,ifitmakesyoufeelbetteraboutacceptingmyhelp.”
Shebrushedherhairback.“Who’spretending?”
Hislopsidedsmilewasafixtureinherrearviewmirrorasshedroveaway.
WhatinGod’snamehadshegottenherselfinto?ChapterFour
ThiswasLongIsland,notTexas,butWeswasbankingonsomethingsneverchanging.AndinTexas,whenamanneededhelp,hewenttothelocalhardwarestore.Therewasagoodreasonforthat.Inahardwarestore,amanonlyhadtodropthebaresthintabouthisprojectanddudesstartedpouringoutoftheaislestoutingthebestadvice.Thiswasaritualthatsavedmenfromhavingtoactuallyaskforhelpwhilealsomakingothermenfeeluseful.Kindoflikethe“leaveapenny,takeapenny”ofmasculinity.
BeingthatBrick&MortyhadallthebestconstructionhandsfromPortJeffersononthepayroll,WespickedupLaurafromschoolanddrovetotheneighboringtownofBrookhaven.Sherodeonhisshouldersthroughthesticker-coveredfrontdoor,makingtheoverheadbelltinkleasecondtimewithherfingers.
Hebreathedinthecompetingsmellsofpaint,polyurethane,andsawdust,takinghistimetowardthebackofthestore.Noneedtoappeartooeagerforadvice.Thiskindofthingrequiredtimingandavisiblelackofenthusiasm.
“UncleWes,canwegetthat?”
Wes’sstepsslowedevenmore.ItneverfailedtojarhimalittlewhenLaurareferredtohimasUncleWes.Hell,afteramonthoffiveA.M.wake-upcalls,he’dearnedthetitle,hadn’the?Andtheywererelatedbyblood,evenifBecky,Laura’smother,wasonlyhishalfsister.
Thefactthathe’dhadanyfamilyhadcomeasashocktohim.Beckyhadshownupwherehe’dbeenlivingjustbeforehissixteenthbirthday,atatemporaryfosterhomeinSanAntonio.AyearyoungerthanWes,she’dbeenskinnyandwaryofhernew,temporaryparents.Weshadbeenwary,too.Especiallywhenhefoundout,viatheirfosterfather,thatheandBeckysharedamotherandthus,thestatehadbeenattemptingtoplacethemtogetherforalongtime.
He’dbeentransferredamongenoughfamiliesatthatpointtoknowgettingattachedtoanyonewasstupid.Sohe’dignoredBeckyforawhile,untilshestartedfollowinghimaround,livinginhisshadow.Shedidn’tneedtosayawordforhimtosurmiseshe’dhaditworsethanhim.Herdeer-in-the-headlightsexpressiontoldhimtheuglygistofthestory.Becauseofthat,becauseheknewthesystemcouldbeharderongirls,he’dbrokenhisruleandstartedcoveringforherwhenshedidn’twakeupintimetocompleteherchores.Whentheyweremovedtoseparatehouses,shecontinuedtocallonhimwhensheneededtobebailedoutorwhenshewasscaredandneededaplacetosleep,whichusuallyendedupbeinghiscloset.
Notforthefirsttimeinthelastcoupleofdays,WeswonderedwhereBecky’s“breather”frommotherhoodhadtakenher.BacktoTexas?FurtheruptheEastCoast?Itwasanyone’sguess.Theonepredictablethingabouthissisterwasherunpredictability.She’dproventhatmanytimes,nottheleastofwhichwasgettingpregnantwithLauraatseventeen.
“UncleWes.”
Shakinghimself,hefollowedthedirectionindicatedbyLaura’sgrubbyfinger—really,heneededtostartcarryingbabywipesorsomething—landingonagardengnome.He’dlearnedquicklythatnomatterwherehebroughthisniece,beitthepostofficeorawalkdownthedangstreet,shewouldfindsomethingforsaleshedesperatelyneeded.Anoutright“no”neverworked,becauseadenialwasalwaysfollowedbynolessthanseventy-fivegroansof“PLEASE,UNCLEWES.”Sohe’dstartedgettingcreativeanddistractingherwithbullshit.
“Agardengnome?”Hesnorted.“Whydoweneedafakeonewhenwe’vegottherealthing?”
Herkneejerkedandcaughthiminthechin.“What?”
Westestedhisjaw.“Youheardme.We’vegotawholecolonyofthemprotectingthehouse.Theydon’tgettorunningarounduntilyoustartsnoring,butI’vecaughttheminactionatimeortwo.”
“You’relying.”Shepausedandhecouldpictureherpursingherlips,browfurrowedinthought.“Whatweretheydoing?”
“Playingring-around-the-rosy.Chasingcats.Tryingtostealmytruck.”
Hergigglemadehimsmile.“CanwegetMcDonald’sfordinner?”
“Depends.What’sonourfoodcalendarfortonight?”
“Greenbeancasserole.”
Weswinced.“IcouldgoforaBigMac.”
“Yay!”Shefoldedherhandsonhishead.“Whatarewedoinghere?”
“I’mbeingachauvinist.You’rejustalongfortheride.”
“What’sachauvinist?”
“Inmycase,it’ssomeonewho’sbeingadamnfooloverawoman.”
Laurasighed.“Oh.”Herfingersfidgetedinhishairandhecouldalmostsenseherworkinguptosomething.“Ithinkmymomcalledmydadthatnameonce.”
“Achauvinist?”
Hervoicewasglum.“Yeah.”
Somethingpointyturnedoverinhismiddle.“Didtheycalleachothernamesalot?”
Shedidn’tanswerrightaway.“Yes.It’salotquieterwithoutthemhome.”Amomentpassed.“Doyouknowwhenmymomiscomingback?”
“Soon,kid,”helied,feelinglikeabastard.“Probablyrealsoon.”Notforthefirsttime,heattemptedtomentallyreachouttohissisterandnudgeherintocomingback,doingtherightthing,eventhoughhewasn’tcapableoftelepathy.“Hey,Iwasthinking,there’snoreasonyoucan’tgetdoubletoysatMcDonald’stonight.”
Herheelsreboundedoffhischest.“Yes!”
Crisisaverted.Fornow.Howmanymoreweeksor,hell,monthswouldpasswithoutwordfromBecky?
Tryingtofocusonthetaskathand,Wesmadeacasualpassinfrontoftheregister,onlystoppingwhenthemostItalianmanhe’deverseenproppedhismeatyforearmsonthecounter.“Helpyoufindsomething?”
“Maybe,”heanswered,stillscanningtheshop,asifaconstructioncrewmightbesittingononeoftheshelves.“I’mworkingonaflipoverinPortJeff.”
Darkbushyeyebrowswentup.“Aflip,heh?”
“That’sright.”Wesshrugged.“Iguessifyouknewsomelocalslookingforsomethingtokeepthembusy,we’vegotroomforafewmore.”
Laurapulledonhisears.“UncleWesisashow-va-vist.”
“Ishe?”themansaid,handingLauraalollipopfromunderthecounterwithoutmissingabeat,thankfullydistractingherfromembarrassinghimanymorewhilehewaspretendingnottodesperatelyneedhelp.TheItalianshruggedback.“Mightknowaguyortwo.Thejobgoingtopaywell?”
Wesinclinedhishead.“It’llpaywellfortherightcrew.”
“Myboysmightbeabletohelpout.They’reincollegeatnight—”
“Theyugly?”
Themanrearedback.“Hellno,theyain’tugly.Whatkindofquestionisthat?”
“Whoelseyougot?”
“UncleWes,canwegetthat?”
Thistimehisniecewaspointingtoaboxfulloflaserpointers.“Noway.I’mnotwakinguptomorrowwiththatthingshiningdirectlyintomyeyes.”
Shelaughed.“Howdidyouknow?CanIgetashakeatMcDonald’s?”
Thehardwarestoreritualwasnotgoingaccordingtoplan.Timetoabort.“Listen,doyouhaveanyoneelseinmind,ornot?”
AmaninoverallsmaterializedtoWes’sright,wipinghishandsonagreasyrag.Withhissalt-and-peppermustache,Wesjudgedhimtobeinhislatefifties.“Couldn’thelpbutoverhear.”
Maybetheritualwasintactafterall.
KeepingholdofLaura’skneewithonehand,Wesreachedforastackofpaintsamplepamphletsthatsatneartheregisterwiththeother,casuallythumbingthroughtheglossypages.“Overhear…?”
“Youmentionedaflip,son?”
“Mighthave.”
Overallslifteduphiscap.“Well.Thereareadozenmoreugly,retiredsonsofgunsjustlikemeinthistown.”
“It’strue.Theyliveinmyshop.Theyneverleave.”
“Wekeepyouinbusiness.”
“Youneverbuyanything!”
Ignoringtheowner’soutburst,Overallsheldouthishandforashake.“CarlKnight.Goodtomeetyou.”
“Ollie,”pipedupanothervoicebehindWes.HeturnedtofindanAfricanAmericanmanwithaWORLD’SBESTGRANDPAT-shirt,roughlythesameageasCarl.“I’mnotugly,butIknowmywayaroundsomeplumbing.”
Carlsmackedthecounter.“We’vestillgotsomejuiceleftinus,don’twe,Ollie?”
“Juicefordays.Attheveryleast,acouplehours.”
Wes’slipstuggedatthecorner.“Youtwomindtakingdirectionsfromawoman?”
“We’remarried,”bothmenrespondedinunison.
Wespickedapenupoffthecounterandwrotedowntheaddresstotheflip.“SeeyouboysonWednesday.”
BethanystoodsidebysidewithGeorgieandRosie,allthreeofthemhunchedoverwithhandsontheirknees.Atthefrontoftheworkoutroom,Kristinbouncedawaytoaremixedversionof“SweetDreams,”herblondponytailswingingrighttoleft,hereyesclosed,totallyobliviousthateveryonehadstoppedfollowingherlead.
“Startfromthebeginning,”Rosieinstructed,swipingattheperspirationonherbrow.“Youstormedtheconstructionsite…”
“Idon’tstorm.Iglide.”
“Whatwereyouwearing?”
Thisfromhersister,who’dbeencontentwithhand-me-downsuntiltheageoftwenty-threebutcouldnowtellthedifferencebetweenbusinesscasualandsmartcasual.“Anankle-lengthfloralskirtwithmywhitestraplesstop.”
Rosiepokedherintheside.“Oooh.Hair?”
“Down,wavy.Ilookedgreat.”
“Youalwaysdo,”Georgieassuredher.“Whathappenednext?”
“Ishowedhimthepaperworkandannouncedmydefection.”ShebobbedashoulderandfollowedacoupleofKristin’sdancemoves,which—ifsherecalled2008correctly—werestraightoutofBritney’s“Womanizer”video.“That’sall.Itreallywasn’tthatdramatic.”
Georgierolledhereyes.“Youknow,sis,it’sactuallymoretellingthatyou’releavingouttheZellwegermoment.”
“I’mnotleavingitout,”Bethanyrushedtosay.“It’sjust…inconsequential.”
“Idon’tknow,”Rosiesaid,deliveringahealthydoseofside-eye.“MyhusbandwaspresentduringsaidZellwegering—”
“Okay,ladies,it’snotaverb.Canitstopbeingaverb?”
“AndDominicsaiditwasquiteascene.”
“Isupposeitwasscene-ish,”Bethanyhedged,ignoringthegoosebumpsthatclimbedherskinwhenshethoughtofWesannouncinghe’dbegoingwithherandstrippingoffhisgloves.Whywasitsoannoyinglyhotthathetookoffhisgloves?“Assoonaswemetatthehouse,Imadeitperfectlyclearthatourtemporarypartnershipwouldnotincludeanyphysicalbenefits.”
“Besidesyouwatchinghimworkshirtless,youmean?”Georgiewiggledherhips.“I’dsaythatclassifiesasamajorbenefit.”
“Georgie,you’regettingmarriedonSunday.Waitatleastamonthafterthehoneymoontocommenceyourroleasahornyoldmarriedlady.”
“Aw.WhyelsewouldIgetmarried?”
Bethany’slaughwaspained.“Rosie,helpme.”
“Sorry,Beth.ShirtlessWesisadefinitebenefit.”Shebitherbottomlip.“Youthinkhe’llwearhiscowboyboots?”
GeorgiereachedacrossBethanyforahighfive.“Iwaswonderingthesamething.”
“Yourhusbandsshouldbeworried,”Bethanymuttered,thoughshedidn’treallymeanit.RosieandGeorgiewerefacedowninamudpuddleofeverlastinglovewiththeirdudesandtheywouldbeforevermore.Bethanycouldn’tbehappierforthem.Ifthereweretwowomenwhodeservedmenwithunquestionableloyaltywhoworshipedthegroundtheywalkedon,itwashersisterandRosie.
Bethanywouldbelying,however,ifherlittlesistergettingmarriedfirstdidn’tbringaboutacertain…self-reflection.SeeingGeorgieandRosiesohappymadeherdoubt,onoccasion,thatshe’dbeenbuiltforhappinessherself.ThekindofrelationshipstheyhadwithDominicandTravis,thekindwhereallthewallsweredown?Didn’tthateverterrifythem?Bethanydidn’tevenlikeherparentsknowingshedidn’thavehershittogether,letalonesomeonesheexpectedtobedevoted,faithful,andsexuallyattractedtoher.Howcouldonejustbethemselves,becompletelyhonest,andtrustthatitwouldn’teventuallysendthepersononhismerryway?
Yes,whileBethanywastotallythrilledforhersisterandbestfriend,shecouldadmittobeingalittlebaffledbyhowtheblindtrust/unconditionallovethingworked.Shemighthavepurportedonoccasiontobeingsomewhatwellversedintheworldofmen,buttruthfully?Shedidn’tknowadamnthingabouttheoppositesex—andithadtakenheruntilexactlythissecondtoadmitit.Toherself,anyway.
Inhighschoolandcollege,she’ddatedliberallyandwithoutmajorcommitments,morefocusedongettingherdegreeindesignandcarvingoutalong-termwaytopracticewhatsheloved.Whenshe’dsettledbackinPortJeffersonafterfouryearsatColumbia,she’dstartedseeingmeninamorepermanentlight.HerfirstseriousboyfriendwasabondtradernamedRivers.They’ddatedexclusivelyforsixmonthsbeforeshefoundouthe’dbeenbacktogetherwithhisoldgirlfriendforfive.Andthushadbegunasteadystreamofhandsome,exciting,successfulmenwhowouldlaterprovetobelesssubstantialthandust
She’dbeenonamightytearthenighttheyformedtheJustUsLeague,inthisveryroom,asthetheaterdirectorboyfriendshe’dbeenseeinghadmadeforgreenerpastures,claimingherworkscheduledidn’tleaveenoughtimeforhim.Alotofherboyfriendshadmadethissamecomplaint.Alotofthemhadpursuedotherfemalecompanybecauseofit,whenintruth,herworkinghoursweren’tthatdemanding.
Butthemoretimeshespentaroundsomeone,thehigherthechancethattheywouldseeherfaults.Theymightforcehertoacceptthatshewasn’tthewarm,fuzzyrelationshiptype,andinreality,shewaskindof…coldwhenitcametomen.Whenitcametoalotofthings,really.Shedidn’tseemcapableofrelaxationorcontentment.Heragendaalwaysseemedtoincludemovingandplanning.Ifshestoppedandletherselftrytoenjoylife,enjoymen…maybeshewouldn’t.Couldn’t,even.Maybesomeofherpastboyfriends’claimsthatBethanywascoldwerecorrect.
So,simplesolution,right?Avoidmen.
Sheavoidedherownboyfriends.
“Bethany?”Georgiehip-checkedher.“You’rethinkingaboutWes’snipplescoveredinsweat,aren’tyou?”
“What?”Well,nowIam.“No.”
“Isanyonefollowingthemoves?”Kristindemandedfromthefrontoftheclass,scanningtheroomasiftherewereahundredpeoplepresentinsteadofthree.“I’mnotjustuphereformyhealth,youknow.”
“Youdon’texerciseforyourhealth?”Georgieasked.
“Oh,hush,smartass.YouknowwhatImean,”theirsister-in-lawscolded,cradlinghernonexistentbabybumpwithascowl.SheturnedbackaroundwithanelaborateshoulderrollandfellintorhythmwithKatyPerry.
“Pregnancyismakinghermean,”Rosieremarkedwithashiver.
“Yeah,maybewebetterdance,”Georgiemuttered,beginningthemostbasicoffootshuffles.“Keeptalking,though.”
“Yeah,”Rosiewhispered,cautiouseyesonKristin,likeshemightturnandspewvenomatanymoment.“WhatdidWessaywhenyoutoldhimtherewouldn’tbeanybenefits?”
“Nothing.Hesaidnothing,”Bethanyanswered,tooquickly.
“Comeon,”Georgiesaid.“Thatmanneversaysnothing.”
Bethanysighed.“Hemighthavesaid”—sheflutteredahandaroundherhighbun—“sexisnolongeranoption,anyway.”
Georgiestoppeddancing.SodidRosie.Theystaredather.
Andpromptlyburstintolaughter.
Bethanyspokeoverthem.“I,ofcourse,toldhimitwasnevergoingtohappeninthefirstplace,sohispointismoot.”Shesearchedforawaytodistractthem.“Andthenaratscurriedovermyfoot.”
“Oh,ew,”Rosiesaid,consolingherwithapatontheshoulder.
“Yeah.”Sobernow,Georgiereachedforherthroat.“I’msosorry.”
“Ibetyoufeelbadaboutlaughingnow.”
“Notreally,”Georgiesaidwithastraightface.
Rosieshookherhead.“Sorry,no.”
“Youtwoaretheworst,”Bethanygrumbled.“ThereisnothinggoingonwithWes.NothingwillevergoonwithWes.Ifwemakeitthroughthiswithoutclubbingeachothertodeath,I’llbegrateful.”
Butafewminuteslater,whenKristinbrowbeatthemintosilence,Bethanythoughtofhowherlegsfeltwrappedaroundhishipsandwonderedifclubbingeachothertodeathwaswhatsheshouldbeworriedabout.ChapterFive
WescheckedhisreflectioninBuenaOnda’sglassdoor,givinghimselfamomenttocollecthisthoughtsbeforeheadinginside.Hewasstillgettingusedtohaving…people.MakingfriendsduringhistemporarystayinPortJeffersonwassomethinghedefinitelyhadn’texpected.Casualacquaintancesweremorehisstride.Butafewbeerswiththeguysafterworkhadledtoastandinghappyhourhangout…andeventuallytransitionedintothis.AninvitationtoGeorgieandTravis’srehearsaldinner.
TheremighthavealsobeenthebondingexperienceoftravelingintoManhattanlikeapackofscornedidiotstodraghomethewomenfolkwhenthey’dhadtheutternervetotakealadies’nightout,buthedigressed.
Apparentlyhehadfriendsnow,buthewasstillgettingusedtothatfact
AndknowingBethanywouldbetheretonighthadgoneadamnlongwaytowardhisdecisiontoputonniceclothesandcallthebabysitter.
HisgazefoundherthesecondhewalkedintoBuenaOnda.
Sinceshewasbusyfussingwithaflowerarrangementandpayinghimnoattention,hestoppedjustinsidethedoorandallowedhimselfafewmomentstoappreciateher.GoodLord.Thewomanhadnorighttobesofine.Noright.
ItwasFridaynightandtherestaurantwaspacked.Waitersandwaitressesinblack,white,andredmovedwithseamlesschoreographythroughthemazeoftables,droppingoffdrinksandclearingdishes.Sconcesflickered,highlightingthegoldwallsandframedphotos.ColorfulscenesstraightoutofArgentina.Snippetsofconversationsreachedhisearsfromnearbytables,emergingandweavingbackintotheoveralldroneofthecrowd.
Wesonlyregisteredhissurroundingsinpassing,becauseBethanyhadhisattentionandthat’swhereitwouldstay,mainlytogetherallworkedupandflushed.Itreallywasn’tfairofhimtotakethesepreciousmomentstopreparehimselffortheirupcomingbattle.Itgavehimanadvantage.
Thenagain,maybeheneededanedge.Continuingtheirwarofwordswouldn’tbeeasywhenshelookedlikeafuckingqueentonight.BethanyCastleneverhadahairoutofplace,buttherewassomethingextrahappeningwithherthiseveninganditdamnnearmadehisbloodrunbackward.
Herhairwasinaperfectponytail—andheknewaperfectponytailwhenhesawone.LaurapointedthemoutontheDisneyChannelstarsconstantly.See,UncleWes.That’swhataponytaillookslike.Notwhatyoudo.
Allright,sohistechniquewasaworkinprogress.
Bethany’ssmoothwaterfallofblondhairbrushedthecenterofherbareback,drawingWes’sattentiontoherdelicateshoulders,onlyaslimstrapoficebluedecoratingthem.Silk.ShewaswearingsilkandWescouldhearthesoundofitbrushingherglowingskin.Thehemofthedressmetherknees,butthemodestlengthdidnothingtocurtailhishungrythoughts.Howmanynightshadhelainawakeinbed,imagininghimselfstandingbehindBethany,gatheringherdressinhishandswhileexploringthecurveofherneckwithhistongue?
Asifhisthoughtshadbeenbroadcastaloud,Bethanystraightenedfromherleanacrossthelongbanquettableandpinnedhimwithalookthatcouldonlybedescribedashaughty—andWesbarelyknewwhatthehellthatwordmeant.
Wecanstillpretendtohateeachother,ifitmakesyoufeelbetteraboutacceptingmyhelp.Hadn’tWesgivenherthatassurance?
Lookedlikeshe’dtakenittoheart
Bethanyturnedfullyandcockedahip,sweepinghimwithaconcernedglance.“Wow,getaloadofyou.Didyougetlostonthewaytoacattleauctionorsomething?”
Wes’slipstriedtheirdamndesttocurlintoasmile,butsheerwillandalotofpracticekepthisexpressionbland.“Nope,I’mintherightplace,”Wessaid,saunteringtowardBethany.“ThedirectionssaidifIpassedRestingBitchFace,I’vegonetoofar.”
Hersmilewassweet.“Feelfreetokeepgoinguntilyoufalloffacliff.”
Hetuckedhistongueintohischeekandleanedintospeaknearherear—andifshethoughthedidn’tnoticethegoosebumpsthatappearedonherneck,shewassorelymistaken.“Yousmelldifferent.Where’veyoubeenallday?”
Herquickintakeofbreathturnedintoascoff.“Noneofyourbusiness,knockoffLoneRanger.”Withasinglefingerplantedinthecenterofhischest,shepushedhimbackseveralinches.“Butifyoumustknow,we’vebeenatthespa.Massages,facials,andwaxing.”Sheusedthatsamefingertotaphisupperlip.“Somedaywhenyou’reoldenoughtogrowfacialhair,I’llmakeyouanappointment.”
Wescouldonlylaughattheridiculousnessofthatinsult.“AndI’llbookaspecialisttosawdownyourclovenhooves.”
“Ilikethemsharp.”
“Yeah?”Hesteppedbackintoherpersonalspace,justenoughtofeelthetipsofherbreastsagainsthischest.“Well,comeon,then,darlin’.Digthemin.”
Pinkcoastedoverhercomplexionandsatisfactionfistedinhisgut.SparringwithBethanywasbetterthansex.Whatwasitaboutthiswomanthatmadehimfeellikehisskinwaselastic?Hecouldstillrememberthefirsttimeshe’dsteppedoutofherMercedesontheconstructionsite,allsleekcomposure,gorgeouslegs,andattitude.Beforeshe’dtakentwosteps,he’dmadeuphismindtosleepwithher.She’dhadotherideas.
“Ithoughtweonlyhiredcollegekidsinthesummertime,”she’dsaidtoherbrother,eyeingWeswithdistaste.
Weshadcrossedhisarms.“Thatmustbehard,consideringyouprobablycreatewinterwhereveryougo.”
She’dgasped.“Areyoucallingmeaniceprincess?”
“Ifthetiarafits.”
“I’lltakeatiaraoveryourClintEastwoodhand-me-downs.”
“Remindmewhothatis?Hemightbebetterknownamongyourgeneration.”
Funny,thememorydidn’tgivehimthesamekickofsatisfactionitusedto.Maybeithadsomethingtodowiththatpeekbeneathherperfecttopcoatwhenhe’dquitBrick&MortytohelpherontheDoomsdayFlip?Wasaglimpseunderneathherexteriorhisobjectiveallalong,withalltheteasingandname-calling?Nowthathe’dgottenthatpreviewoftherealBethanyCastle,hesurelywouldn’tmindseeingmore.
Although,hadhealreadyscrewedhimselfbybecomingthemanwhobitback?
Wessteppedback.“Whereiseveryone?”
“Idroppedtheladiesoffatmyplacetochange.Myparentsarepickingthemupontheway.”Shestraightenedanapkin,buthenoticedherflushwasstillintact.“Icameearlytomakesureeverythingwasjustright.”
Althoughhisknowledgewasslimtononewhenitcametotabletopdesign—ordesignofanykind,really—Weshadtoadmitshe’dkilledit.Therewerelittlefreshwhiteflowerscutshortandarrangedinmasonjarsfilledwithfairylights.TastefulstandsspacedevenlyapartonthetableheldcandidpicturesofGeorgieandTravis.Notecardswitheveryone’snameswrittenontheminscriptsatinthecenterofeachplate.Hedidn’thavetodoanysleuthingtoknowshe’dplacedhimasfarawayfromheraspossible.
Hepointedtowardthefarendofthetable.“Thatwineglasshasasmudge.”
“What?”
AssoonasBethanyturnedtohandlethephantomsmudge,WespilferedStephen’snamecardandswitcheditwithhis,puttinghimonBethany’sright.
“Idon’tseeanything,”Bethanysaid,liftingtheglasstoinspectit.Theireyesmetthroughthegoblet,magnifyinghersexypout.“Veryfunny.”
“Noonewouldhavenoticedasmudge.”
“Iwouldhave.”
“Younoticeeverything.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Wessmiled.
Shenarrowedhereyesathimsuspiciously,buthewassavedfromherfindingoutaboutthename-cardswitchwhentherestoftheirpartyappearedattherestaurant’sentrance.
Wessalutedthenewarrivals.Dominickepthisheaddownandstucktothesidelines,scoutingforRosie.StephenrolledinlikeaballofnervousenergyandTravisstruttedthroughtheawestruckpatronslikethegoddamnmayor.IfWesdidn’tlikethesonofabitchsomuch,he’dhatehim.
TheCastleparentswalkedinbehindTravis,theirentrancecausingarippleofcomfortingenergyinthesmallroom.EveryoneintownreveredMortyandadoredVivian.Intheshorttimehe’dlivedinPortJefferson,he’dlearnedtheywereaninstitution.HalfthetownhadeithersoldtheirhomestotheCastlesorpurchasedonefromthem—andtherestwouldgetthereallingoodtime.
WeshungbackandwatchedBethany,aswasbecominghisunbreakablehabit.Howshekissedherparents,guidingherfathertohisseatwithonehand,takinghermother’scoatwiththeother.ShenailedTraviswithawell-placedquip,softeningitwithagrudgingsmile.ThenshemouthedDominichiswife’sETA.
Bethanywasagraceful,flawlessone-womanwelcomingcommittee,andshewasridiculouslyoutofWes’sleague.Thatunfortunatefactdidn’tkeephimfromthinkingabouthernonstop,now,didit?
Sheturnedandcaughthiseyeoverhershoulder,thecandlelightgivinghercomplexionarosyglow,andsomethingheavyclenchedinhisgut.Notsureifhewantedtoexplorethegrowingfrequencyofthatreaction,Wespulledouthischairandsatdown.Bethany’smouthformedanO,herattentiondroppingtotheswappednamecard.“Wes,”shesaidthroughherteeth.
Hewinked.“Howdy,neighbor.”
LuckyforWes,thefemalecontingencyjoinedthepartyatthatmoment,orBethanymighthavestabbedhimwithabutterknife.Instead,shewasrenderedspeechlessbyherlittlesister.Georgiewasdressedinanoff-white,form-fittingdresswithlongsleevesandanabbreviatedhemandherlegslookedaboutfifteenmileslonginthesilverpumpsshe’dborrowedfromBethany’scloset.Howcouldthisbethesamepersonwho’doncegottenherbracesstucktoaradiatorvalve?
BethanyhadalmostmissedthechancetoknowGeorgiebetter.Whatiftheyhadn’tendedupinthatstupidZumbaclassallthosemonthsago?They’dopeneduptoeachotherbyaccidentthatnight,sprawledonthefloorintheirworkoutgear.Sure,Bethanywouldstillhaveplannedthisparty.Theywouldstillbesisters,breakbreadontheoccasionalSunday,buyeachotherChristmaspresents.Buttheywerefriendsnow,too.
God,shewassogratefulforthat.Andnow,injusttwoshortdays,thescruffytomboywasgettingmarried.Bethany’ssightstartedtoblurand,withvisionsofrunningmascarainmind,shetippedherfaceuptowardtheceiling,beggingthetearstoebb.Shecouldn’tverywellhostthisdinnerwithraccooneyes.Pullittogether.
SomethingsoftpressedintoBethany’shandandshelookeddowntofindWespassingheraclothnapkin.“Oh,butit’llruinthetable’sflow,”shemumbled,fanninghereyes.“You’rebehindme.HowdidyouknowIwascrying?”
“Maybeyou’renottheonlyonewhonoticesthings,darlin’.”
Evenashislowtoneblewanunwantedshiverdownherspine,Bethanyturnedslightlytoslidehimsomeside-eye.ItwasherdefaultwhereWeswasconcerned.Sighinginthefaceofherskepticism,Westookoffhiscowboyhatanddroppeditonthetable.“Fine.Yourasswasclenched.”
AsurpriselaughrocketeditswayoutofBethany.ShethrewthenapkinatWesandhecaughtitinmidair.“Idiot.”
AsBethanywenttogreethersister,shecouldn’thelpbutnoticethetearsnolongerthreatenedtoeruptfromhereyeballs.Weshadsaidtheexactrightthing.Byaccident,ofcourse.Andwow.Herstandardsmustbedroppingatanexponentialrateifthatjackassadmittinghe’dbeenstaringatherasswasnowtherightthingtosay.
HermanhiatuswasresponsibleforthisattractiontoWes.Ithadtobe.Maybeitwastimetoconsidergettingbackonthemarket.Becauseifshecontinuedatthisrate,shemightactuallystartconsideringoneofWes’snot-so-subtleinvitationstojumpeachother’sbones—andthatsurmountedtotheworstideainlife.Inhistory.
Nothappening.Neverhappening.
Evenifshedidn’thatehim,evenifhewasn’tsevenyearsherjunior,Weswasmessy.Notliterally.Guntoherhead,shecouldadmitheactuallycleanedupprettywell.Verywell,infact.Theremovalofhiscowboyhathadrevealedhisshockofdirty-blondhairthatneverseemedtofallinthesamedirection,ambereyesthatheldaperpetualhumoroustwinkle,andrichlysun-lovedskinthatcalledtomindfarmertansandTexasbackroadsand—whatwasshedoing?Writinglyricsforacountry-westernsongnow?
Theman’sattractivenesswasneitherherenorthere.
Therealproblemwas,Wesknewshewasn’tperfectandputtogetherandeffortless.Shehadn’tfooledhim,notforasecond—andthatwasunacceptable.HisawarenessofherfaultswasoneofthemainreasonsBethanyhadsuchahardtimebelievinghewasactuallyinterestedandnotjustamusinghimselfwithanolderwomanwhocouldplayadecentgameofhardtoget.Butdidheactuallywanttocatchher?Hisirreverencemadeitsohardtotell.
Okay,sohehadgottenhardforherwhenshe’djumpedhimtoavoidtherat.
Wouldn’tastiffbreezemakeatwenty-three-year-oldhard?
Stopthinkingabouterectionsatyoursister’srehearsaldinner.
“Georgie,”Bethanybreathed,finallyhavingreachedhersister.AtthesightofGeorgiedressedtothenines,hotmoisturecrowdedthebacksofhereyelidsagainandshealmostwishedforanotherinappropriatecommentfromWesbeforeshecaughtherself.“Youlookmagical.”
“Didyouhavesomethingtodowiththis?”Travisaskedatherelbow,soundingasifhe’dslippedintoadaze.“HowamIsupposedtositthroughathree-hourdinnerwithherlookinglikethat?”
Georgiepokedherfiancé.“You’retalkingaboutmelikeI’mnothere.”
“You’renothere.You’reahologram.Thatbeliefistheonlythingthat’sgoingtokeepmyhandsoffyou.”Travisdraggedahanddownhisface.“Canwemovethisdinneralong,please?”
Unabletokeepthesmugnessoffherface,Bethanywedgedherselfinbetweenthebride-andgroom-to-beandguidedthemtowardthetable,standingbehindtheirplacesettings.“Everyone,pleasetakeyourseats.”Shesnappedalookatthecollege-studentwaiterandhelurchedforward,pouringchampagneintoeveryone’sglasses,onebyone.WhenthefinalflutewasbubblingwithDomPérignon,shepickedupherownandheldithigh.“Stephengetstosayhispieceasthebestmanatthereception,soit’sonlyfairthatIgettoputinmytwocentsnow.”
Shesniffed,shootingplayfuldaggereyesatherolderbrother,whomostlylookedconfusedastowhyhe’dbeenseatedthreespotsawayfromhiswife.
“It’snosecretthatittookmeawhiletowarmuptoTravis.Decades.I’mstillreservingthetiniestbitofjudgment.We’re,like,ninetypercentthere.”Shepattedherfuturebrother-in-lawontheshoulder.“However.Iamonehundredpercentpositivethatnooneelsecouldmakemysisterthishappy.Orgether,quitelikeTravis.They’reamatchmadeinheavenandI’mdefinitelynotbitteraboutbeingthelastsingleCastle.Paynoattentiontomymile-longtherapybill.”Bethanysqueezedthemclose,emotioncatchingherinthethroat.“Onaseriousnote,I’msohappyforyouboth.Imeanthat.Thisiswhattherealthinglookslike.”Sheraisedherglassatouchhigher.“ToTravisandGeorgie.”
“ToTravisandGeorgie,”repeatedeveryone.
Bethanyeasedoutfrombetweenthefuturenewlywedsandtookherseat,enjoyingthewayconversationunfoldedaroundhernaturally,drinksbeingrefilledbeforetheywerefullyempty.Theeveninghadbeensetintomotionwithoutahitch.Secondbysecond,thetensioninherchesteaseduntilshewasonceagainalltooawareofthemansittingbesideher.
“Nicespeech,”Wesdrawled.“IfIdidn’tknowbetter,I’dalmostbefooledintothinkingyouhaveaheart.”
“Oh,butIdo.Inthesameplaceasyours.”Shesippedherchampagne.“It’slocatedaboutnineinchesbelowwhereyourbrainshouldbe.”Heopenedhismouthtorespond,butBethanycuthimoff.“Ifyoumakea‘nineinches’joke,I’lldumpcandlewaxonyourhead.”
“Damn,girl,that’skinkyashell.”Hewinked.“Ilikeit.”
Shegroundherbackteeth.“Isthiswhyyouwantedtositnexttome?Soyoucouldpokemeallnight?”
Hebithislip.
Bethanypinchedhereyesshut.“Sayitanddie.”
Wesleanedbackinhischair,wiselyrefrainingfromanotherinnuendo.Yetshestillcouldn’tkeepherkneefrombouncingbeneaththetable.Whydidthismanthwarthercomposurelikethis?Nooneelsecouldgetunderherskinwithsuchefficiency.Orscrambleherbrainwithawell-placedgrin.
Agrinthatsaid,Iseeyourflaws.Iseethemall.
God,shecouldn’tstandhim.
Asifitwasn’tbadenoughthatWesseemedtoseestraightthroughher,itwasimpossibletoreconcileallofhismovingparts(thankgoodnessshehadn’tsaidthatoutloud).AccordingtoStephen…andperhapssomeWebsleuthing,Weswasagoodol’boywithawildstreak.She’dconfirmedthatoneeveningaftertoomuchwineviahislong-neglectedInstagramaccount,whichwasessentiallyjustphotouponphotoofhimridingbulls,beingtreatedforinjuriesintheER—usuallywithathumbs-upandasmile—orpoundingapintwhilehisbuddieseggedhimoninthebackground.
SuchevidenceshouldvalidateherutterdislikeofWes.She’ddatedirreverentpartyguyswhocouldbecomethecenterofheruniversesimplybybeingthemostinterestingdudeatthebar.Shewaspastmenlikethat.Theyneverfailedtoturnintobitterdouchebagswhentheyweren’tthecenterofattention.
Andyet.
He’dcometoPortJeffersontoraisehisniece.
Hedidn’tseemtowantacookieforit,either.
Curious.
BethanyrealizedsheandWesweresittingalittletoonear,scrutinizingeachotherwaytooclosely.Sheabruptlyleanedaway.
“Didyoumanagetofindsomecapablesoulstohelpusontheflip?”
Wesremainedfocusedonhermouthforafewbeats.“Ohyeah,”hesaid,nodding.“Theyare…somethingelse.”
Shelethersuspicionoverthatvagueresponseshow,butchosenottocomment.“I’mgoingshoppingtomorrowforbathroommaterials—”
“Great.Whenandwhere?I’llmeetyou.”
Shewasalreadyshakingherhead.SpendingtimewithWeswhenitwasn’tabsolutelynecessary?Notagoodidea.Theyweregoingtobeincloseenoughproximityonthejobsite.Theydidn’tneedtobecomeshoppingbuddies.Besides…shedidn’texactlyknowwhattobuyforthebathroomandshedidn’tneedawitnesstheretowatchhermuddlingthrougheverypurchase.“That’snotnecessary.”
“Asforeman,I’dreallyliketobeawareofalldetails,bigandsmall.”
Bethanyrearedback.“Foreman?Whogaveyouthattitle?”
Heeyedhercuriously.“Whichtitlewouldyousuggestforme?”
“Idon’tknow.Headclown?”
Humorrippledacrosshisfeatures.“Ifitmakesyoufeelbetter,Iwasmentallyreferringtoyouasmanager.”
“Oh.”Feelingsillyforbeingsodefensive,sheshiftedinherseat.“Then…Isupposethosetitleswork.”
Hewinked.“Justtryingtopleasetheboss.”
Theguiltoverherdefensivenessspunlikeastupidleadballinherbelly.“I’lltextyoutheaddressofthebathroomsupplyplace.We’llmeetthereinthemorning.Just…”
“What?”
Theirritatedskinonherneckglowedhot,soshesqueezedherhandstogetherinherlap.“Idon’tknowexactlywhatweneed.”
SomeofWes’samusementfaded.“Igotyou.”
Exposed,Bethanypushedbackfromthetableandstoodsofast,shealmostknockedoverherchair,butWescaughtitintime.Withamumbledthank-you,shewenttomakesureeveryonehadfreshglassesfortheswitchfromchampagnetoredwine,veryawareofWescataloguinghereverymove.
Tomorrowmorningsuddenlyloomedmuchcloserthanbefore.ChapterSix
He’dbeenacompleteidiotfortellingBethanysexwasoffthetable.
ThatwasWes’sfirstthoughtwhenshestrolledintothebathroomsupplyshowroominhigh-waistedjeansthatlookedlikesomeonepaintedthemonwithabrushandalooseT-shirttuckedintothefront—justthefront.Whywasthathot?Andheels.He’dneverpaidmuchattentiontoclothingwomenwore,definitelynotthefinerdetails,buttherewassomuchthoughtputintoeverygarmentthatBethanychosetoputonherbody,itfeltlikeasinnottocataloguethem.
Therewasapencilholdingherbuntogetheronthetopofherhead,almostlikeshewantedpeopletobelieveshehadn’tspentactualtimemakingherselflookdelicious.Whatwouldshelooklikefirstthinginthemorning?Withoutascrapofclothingon,fucked-uphairandnomakeup?That’swhathewantedtoknow.Shelookedbeautifulputtogetherlikethis,buthehadafeelingshe’dbesomethingelsealtogetherifhetookherapart.Laidheroutbare.
Bethanystoppedinfrontofhimwithasmile.“Nope.”
“Sorry,wasItalkingoutloud?”
“Yourhorndogexpressionwasspeakingonyourbehalf.”
“It’syourfault.Thankstothatrat,nowI’vehadthoselegswrappedaroundme.”
Shetookoffhersunglassesandsnappedthemclosed,slidingthemintoahiddencompartmentinherpurse.“Well,Ihopeyouenjoyedthefirstandlasttime.”
“Comeon,now.You’vestillgotafewgoodyearsleftinyou.”
Wesfrownedwhenshefalteredalittle,arejoinderseemingtodieonherlips.Insteadofcuttinghimoffatthekneeslikeshenormallywould,shemovedpasthimandbeckonedtooneofthesalesclerks.“Hello!”Ofcoursehersmilewasonehundredwattsforthethirty-somethingdudeinill-fittingkhakisandcompanypoloshirt.“Kirk,”shesaidwarmly,readinghisnameoffthetagfastenedtohisshirt.“Weneedtoplaceanorderforbathroomsupplies.Wouldyoumindsettingusupwithsomecataloguesandaplacetosit?”
Kirkalmostsprainedananklescramblingofftodoherbidding.“Surething.”
Wesfollowedhertothebackoftheshowroom,buthestillhadanitchunderthecollaroverherreactiontohisstupidjokeaboutherage.Sheknewheneedledheraboutbeingolderinthenameofsarcasm,right?Thesevenyearsbetweenthemwasnothingbutapuddlejump.Thirtywasyoung.Hell,shecouldbeforty-fiveandhe’dstillbepantingafterit.Sowhyhadsheclammeduponhim?
Hetookaseatbesideastraight-backedBethanyataclutteredtableandstudiedherprofile.Somethingtoldhimheneededtosmoothoutthisonemisconception—thatheactuallythoughtshewasreadyforpasture—orhe’dregretit.Beforehecouldsayanything,though,Kirkcamebackwithastackofbooksuptohischin,droppingthemonthetablewithaslap.“Hereyougo,MissCastle.”
“Oh.”Shebeamedupathim.“Youknowmyname.”
“Sure.You’reStephenCastle’ssister.”
SomeofthesparkfadedfromhereyesandWeswantedtothrottlethedumbass.“Right,”Bethanysaid,openingoneofthebooks.“We’llletyouknowwhenwe’rereadytoputintheorder.”
CaptainFootinMouthtookhisexitandWesleanedbackinhischair,wonderingwhythehellhefeltsojumpyallofasudden.LustwasaninevitabilitywhenhewasinthesameroomwithBethany,butrightnow,hewasmoreinterestedinholdingherhand.Orcuppingthenapeofherneckandrunningathumbupintoherhairlinetocomforther.Andthatrattledhimalittle.
Maybetherewasawaytocomfortherwithoutbeingtooobvious.She’dadmittedatlastnight’srehearsaldinnerthatshewasnervousaboutpickingoutbathroomsupplieswhenshedidn’tknowwheretostart,hadn’tshe?
Wesclearedhisthroathardandslippedhiscelloutofhispocket,pullingupthepictureappandthumbingthroughacouplepicturesofLauradancingonthefrontporchbeforefindingwhathewanted.“Wentbackintothehouselastnightandgrabbedsomepicturesofthebathroom.Tookmeasurements.”
BethanyblinkedathimandWescouldseeherplayingbacktheirconversationfromlastnight,too.ItoldyouIgotyou.That’swhathewantedtosay,but…itwasn’tgratitudehewasafter.Whatwasit?Hertrust?
“Oh.Oh…good,”shebreathedfinally,squaringhershoulders.“Thankyou.Myplanwastoorderextratileandreturnwhatwedidn’tuse,butthisisbetter.”Shesnuckanotherglanceathimbeforeresolutelyfocusingonhisphone.“Didyourunintotheratagain?”
“No,butIhadthepleasureofmakingtheacquaintanceofhischildren.”Wesshivered.“Severalofthem.”
Bethanymadeasound.“Iwishyouhadn’ttoldmethat.NowIfeelguiltyaboutcallingtheexterminator.”
“Theyweresquealers.”
“Maytheyburninhell,”shedeadpanned,goingbacktotradingglancesbetweenhiscellphoneandthebook.“ShouldIbeworriedaboutinappropriatetextmessagespoppinguponyourscreenandscarringmeforlife?”
Wesreachedoverandstoppedherfromturningapage,tappingasquareoftilethatwasmoderatelypricedandontrend.“Inappropriatetextsfromwho?”
Bethanyslappedhishandawayfromthebookandflippedtothenextpage.“Idon’tknow,”shemuttered,distractedly.“Women.”
Asmileproddedhim.“I’lladmitIreceiveaprettyhighvolumeoftextsfromwomen.”
Hershrugwasjerky.“Well,youcanputitawaynow.Iknowwhatthebathroomlookslike—”
Casually,Wespickedupthephoneandnavigatedovertohistextmessages,readingaloud.“Threeforty-sevenP.M.,yesterday.‘Laurawon’teathergranolabar.’Myreply:‘Tellhershecandipitinpudding.’”WescaughtahintofasmilecurvingBethany’smouthbeforeshereinvestedherselfinthesamplebook.“Adayearlier:‘LauraclaimsyouletherwatchJudgeJudy.’Myreply:‘You’redamnrightIdo.’Realscandalousstuffhere,Bethany.”
“ThoseareLaura’sbabysitters.”
“Callthemwhattheyare.Heroes.”
Sheflickedhimasurprisedglance.“It’sniceofyoutoacknowledgethemlikethat.”
“Beforeyougogivingmecredit,pleaseknowIhavethemlistedinmyphoneas”—hescrolledthroughhismostrecenttexts—“GreenBeanCasserole,OutlanderRingtone—”
“HowdidyourecognizetheOutlanderringtone?”
“ShetoldmewhenIasked.AndnowIknowwaytoomuchaboutaredheadnamedJamie.”Heshookhishead.“FadedCalfTattoo—she’smyfavorite—andLet’sColor.She’salwaysgotafreshpackofCrayonsholsteredlikesomekindofblue-hairedgunslinger.”
BethanywashavingahardertimenotsmilingnowandWeswasenjoyingthehelloutofwatchingherfighttheamusement.“Ifearyou’vemadetheclassicmaleerrorofassumingwomenaren’tinaconstantstateofevolution.WhathappensifOutlanderRingtoneswitchestoTheCrownthemesong,orFadedCalfTattoostartswearingherwinterjeans?”
Nowhehadn’treallyconsideredthat,butBethanyhadapoint.He’dneverbeenaroundawomanlongenoughtowatchoneevolve,buthereckonedtheymust.Hell,he’dbeenabullrideruntilearlythisfallandnowhewasasubstitutedad.Ifthatwasn’tanevolution,hedidn’tknowthemeaningoftheword.
HadBethanyevolved?
Wouldsheevolveafterheleft?
Wesshooedawaytheweirdtighteninginhisthroat.“AndhereIthoughtmynicknamesystemwasfoolproof.”
“Goodthingyoudon’thavemynumber.”Sheflippedthepagealittlequickly.“I’dhatetofindoutwhatI’dbelistedunder.”
“WhosaysIdon’thaveyournumber?”
Herbluegazeslowlymethisandhewasmomentarilyhypnotizedbythelighterflecksjustaroundherpupil.“Excuseme?Youdohavemynumber?”
“FadedCalfTattoocougheditup.”Hewinked.“Toldyoushewasmyfavorite.”
“Marjorie?”Shegasped.“She’saretiredhumanresourcesmanager.”
Wesstretchedhislegsout.“Ethicsarenomatchforcharm,darlin’.”
“Oh,shutup.”Sheeyedhisphone,lookedaway,cameback.“HowamIlisted?”
“Don’tworryaboutit.”
“Showme.”
“Uh-uh.”
Shedrummedhernailsonthetilesamplesforseveralseconds.“Fine.”Herspineironedout.“Doesn’tmattertomeanyway.”
“Icanseethat,”hedrawled.
CaptainFootinMouthmaterializedinfrontofthem.“Areyoufindingeverythingokay?CanIhelpormakesuggestions?”
“We’regood,”WesandBethanysaidatthesametime.
Offhewentagain.
WeswatchedBethanypetasquareofgray-and-whitespeckledtilewhileheplayedbacktheirconversation.Byaskingwhohadbeentextinghim,she’ddefinitelybeenfishingtofindoutifhewasdating,althoughshe’dprobablygowithanorange-and-lime-greenthemeinthebathroombeforeadmittingevenaremoteinterest.Still,itwasprogress.Maybehecouldmakesomemore.
“MarjorieiscomingtotheweddingonSunday,”Bethanymurmured,almosttoherself.“I’lllookforwardtoteasingheraboutbeingsusceptibletocowboys.”
“Allmybabysittersaregoingtothewedding.HadtotakeLauraoutshoppingforafancydresssoIcouldbringheralong.”
Bethanyturnedthosesparklingeyesonhimagainandhisstomachrippled.“Whatkindofdressdidshepick?”
Hefoughtoffawaveofuncertaintyoverhisstylingabilities—ofwhichhehadfew.“Idon’tknow.”Hisshrugwasjerky.“Weboughtsomepinkdeal.”
“Pink.That’sallyou’vegot?”
“Ithassleeves.”
“Oh.Well.”SheshookherheadatWesandhecursedhimselffornotspendingmoretimeonGooglebeforetakingLaurashopping.Suehimforbeingoverwhelmedbytheastronomicalnumberofwebsitesdedicatedtochildren’sfashion.Bethanydidn’tseeminclinedtotakehimtotaskoverhisineptitude,buthewassurprisedwhensheasked,“DoyouhaveanyideawhenLaura’smotheriscomingbacktoPortJefferson?”
“No.Soon,probably,”hesaidtooquickly.
Shestudiedhimamoment.“Youdon’tsoundconfidentinthat.”
Heswallowed.“Thatmightbebecause…I’mnot.”Weswasn’tusedtothesoftwayBethanywaslookingathimandhecaughthimselfleaningcloserbeforeshecouldnotice.“Ijustwishshe’dgivemeacall.ForLaura’ssake.”
TherewasaslightscratchtoBethany’svoicewhensheresponded.“Ofcourseyoudo,”shesaid,shiftinginherseat.“Inthemeantime,mymomwillmakeahugedealoutofLauraatthewedding.Shemissesusbeingminiature.”
Whenhewouldhavemadeacrackaboutherbeingold,thistimehezippedit
“SoI’vegotmydateforSunday,”Wessaidslowly,atrulyhideousthoughtoccurringtohim.“Whataboutyou,Bethany?Youbringingsomechumpinadesignersuit?”
“Maybe.”Shehoistedablondeyebrow.“Howwillyoupayhimbackformydrinksthistime?It’sanopenbar.”
Wesgroundhisbackteeth.
“Relax,cowboy.I’mstillonmymanhiatus.”Sheturnedanotherpage.“Notthatit’sanyofyourbusiness.”
Hebeggedtodiffer.“Whatexactlypromptedthishiatus?”
“TherealizationthatmenaresosimplistictheykeepwomenlistedintheirphonesundernameslikeLet’sColor.”
“Jesus,Bethany.IknowhernameisDonna.Suemeforcheatingalittlewithremindersafteryouintroducedmetofortywomenofroughlythesameageandphysicaldescriptioninonenight.”
HewasreferringtotheeveningtheJustUsLeaguegotwindofhim,asingletwenty-three-year-oldmantakingcareofachildonhisown,andthey’darrivedonhisdoorsteplikePortJefferson’sversionofFEMA.He’dwokenupthenextdaywonderingifhe’ddreamedmiddle-agedwomenorganizinghisunderweardrawer,butno.Hisjockswerenowrolledupinballsaccordingtocolor.
Shepursedherlipsandcuthimalook.“I’m…sorry.Forthatonelittleassumption,nothingelse.”
“Well,shit.”Hekickeduphisboot,crossingitovertheoppositeknee.“Arepigsflyingoutside?”
Bethanydidn’trespondrightaway.“I’monhiatusbecausemylastboyfriendcheatedonme.WhenIcaughthimtextingoneofhistheaterstudents,hetoldmeIwasdistantandcold.Basicallyitwasmyfault.Itwasn’tthefirsttimethathadhappenedwithaboyfriend,either.Infact,itwasbecomingsomethingofapattern.AndIguessIneedalittletimetorecoverbeforetryingagain.IfItryagain.Areweevennow?”
Fireantscrawleduphisthroat.Howbadlyhadshebeenhurttoswearoffmen?Hadshebeeninlovewiththesepiecesofshit?“Ididn’tneedyoutocutyourselfdowntosizeforme.I’dneveraskthatorenjoyit.”
“You’dratherdoitforme?”
“I’mjustgivingasgoodasIget,darlin’.Soundslikeyoupickedmenwhocouldn’tkeepuplikeIdo.”Apinkblushstainedhercheeksandthereitwas,thatsamewayshe’dlookedathimMondaymorning,whenshe’dfelthiscockbetweenherlegs.Herlipspartedandsheappearedtobecontrollingherbreathingwithahard-foughteffort.Thoseblueeyesswamwithawarenessandcaution—acombinationthatmadehisjeansallthemoreconfining.“I’llshowyouhowI’vegotyoulistedinmyphoneifyoudancewithmeattheweddingonSunday.”
Shesnappedoutofhertrancewithascoff.“Forgetit.”
Hewavedhisphone.“Sureaboutthat?”
Afewbeatspassed.“Onedance?”
“Ifyoucanpryyourselfoffmeafterward.”
“IthinkI’llmanage.”Shepluckedthephoneoutofhishandbetweenherfingerandthumb,lookingallprimandsexyasshescrolled.“BethanyMotherfuckingCastle,”sheread,wrinklinghernose.“Isthatmeanttobeanegativeconnotationorapositiveone?”
“IsaidI’dletyoulook.Didn’tsayI’dexplain.”
Cogsturnedbehindhereyes.“Well,Isupposesinceyouhavemynumberandwe’reflippingahousetogether,Ishouldprobablyhaveyournumber,too.”
Shesiftedthroughherpurseandextricatedherphone,trailingherfingerinzigzagsoverthescreenbeforearrivingathercontacts.Shepunchedinafewlettersbeforeslidingitinfrontofhim.
“Cute,”saidWes,typinginhisnumberundertheheadingSendtoVoicemail.
Leaninginclose,hestoppedjustshortofbrushingherhairwithhislips,noticingthewayherfingerscurledonthetilesamples.“Ipickthedance.Thinkyoucankeepfromclimbingme?”
“Therewasarat.”
“Keeptellingyourselfthat’sallitwas.”
HeheardBethanyswallow.“Canwepicksometilenow?”
“You’reincharge.I’mjusthereformoralsupport.”
“Yourmoralsareinneedofmoresupportthanmine.”
Hecouldn’thelpbutbreathealaughathercleverwordplay,hissmilewideningwhenshelaughedreluctantly,too.Hergazestrayedtohismouthforasplitsecondbeforeitshotbacktothesamplebook.
Progress?
Hardtotell.ButhewasdamnwellcountingtheminutestoSunday.ChapterSeven
BethanypoppedthecorkonabottleofMo?t,pouringthefizzingchampagneintoaneatlineofcrystalflutes.She’dwokenupearlythatmorningandturnedhermother’sbedroomintoaglamorouschangingroom,stringingupwhitelightsalongtheedgesoftheceiling,lightingcandles,arrangingseating.Georgiehadbalkedatabiggerweddingvenue,optingtomarryTravisintheirparents’backyard,butthatdidn’tmeanluxuryhadtobeforgoneentirely.
Champagneinhand,Bethanyturnedtoofferhersisteraglassonlytofindhersprawledoutfaceupontheirparents’bed.“Ijustspenttwohoursonyourhair,woman.”Bethanynudgedherfoot.“Situp.”
“Sorry,thisistheonlywayIcanbreatheinthisbustier.”
“You’llthankmewhenTravisgetsaloadofyourtits.”
“He’sgottenmanyaloadonthem.That’swhyhe’swifingme.”
“GeorgieCastle,”theirmotheradmonished,sashayingintotheroominhernewbluemother-of-the-bridedress.“Youcan’tstandbeforeGodwiththatmouth.”
“He’sawareofhermouthbynow,Mother.”BethanyhandedVivianaglassofchampagne.“Healsoknowswhereshegotit.”
“Ibegyourpardon.”Viviantookalongsipofbubbly.“Damn.That’sgood.”
“Onlythebest,”Bethanysaidbriskly,thoughexcitementwasmakingherfingertipssizzle.“Upwithyou,Georgie.It’stimetoputonyourdress.”
Georgierolledontoherstomach,pushedup,andslidbackwardoffthebed,gainingherfeet.“IsTravishere?Areguestsarriving?”
Bethanydrewbackthebedroomcurtainandcranedhernecktogeteyesonthestreet.“Yes,he’schanginginthepoolhouse.Anditwouldappearwehavesomearrivals.Whoisthatslick-lookingfellowwiththeequallyslick-lookingladyonhisarm?”
Georgiesidleduptothewindow.“That’sTravis’sagent,Donny—andhisdate,Iguess?”Shesmiled.“Donnyreallyiseveryinchthewheeler-dealersportsagent,butIsecretlylovehim.Ifhehadn’ttoldTravistospruceuphisimagetoscorethecommentatorgig,weneverwouldhavepretendedtodate,and,well…”Stillblushingfromearlier,shegesturedtoherfancyweddinghair.“Youknowhowthatturnedout.”
“Youwouldhaveendeduptogethernomatterwhat,”Viviansaid,drainingherchampagneandsettingitdownonthedresser.“Isawitcomingamileaway.”
Thesisterstradedasmirk.“Let’sgetthisdresson.”
“Ooh,”Georgiesaid.“Let’swaitforRosie—”
“I’mhere!”Thethirdmemberoftheirtrioslippedinthroughthedoorandcloseditbehindherwithoutasound.“SorryI’mlate.Dominicalwaysconvenientlyforgetshowtotieatiewhenwehaveonedamnminutetoleavethehouse.”
Bethanyhummed.“Andthensaidtieendeduponthefloor…”
“Girls,”Vivianhuffed,smoothingherupdo.“Knowingthosetwo,thetieprobablyendeduparoundherwrists.”
“Mom!”BethanyandGeorgiesquawked.
“What?I’macard-carryingmemberoftheJustUsLeague.It’snotmyfaultyouovershareatmeetingsaftertoomuchtequila.”
Bethanytookamomenttorecover,thencrossedtoRosie,whosebronzeskinwasglowinginadeep-greensilkdressidenticaltoBethany’s.“Youlookamazing.”
“Likewise.I’msogladwewentwiththeshorterlength.Iplanondancing.”Rosietwistedherhips,causingthedress’shemtobrushmid-thigh.“ButI’mmoreinterestedinseeingGeorgieinwhite.”ShesteppedtowardGeorgieandpulledherintoasqueezingembrace.“Let’smakeyouabride.”
Therewasn’tanunusedtissuetobefoundduringtheceremony.TravisandGeorgieexchangedvowsbeneaththetreesintheCastlebackyard—thesametreeswhereGeorgieusedtohidetospyonTraviswhilepretendingtoreadTigerBeat.Smokepracticallycameoutoftheman’searswhenhisbrideproceededdowntheaisleinherclingysilkgownwithembellishedbodice,escortedbyMorty.Travisdidn’ttakehiseyesoffherforasinglesecond,asifshemightturntail,speedoffinataxi,andjointhecircus.
RosieandBethanystoodtoGeorgie’sleft.StephenandDominicwerepositionedatTravis’sright.AllthetensionbetweenBethanyandherbrotherwereforgotteninthosemomentsbeneaththetwinkling,ethereallightsandtwilightsky.Therewerenohousesbeingflipped,onlytheirsistermarryingamanwhobelievedshe’dhungthemoon.
Feelingeyesonherinthecrowd,however,andknowingWeswatchedher,Bethanycouldn’thelpbutremembershe’dagreedtoadance.
Itwasjustonelittledance.
Only,wasit?Fromhermaidofhonorpositionatthefrontofthecrowd,Bethanycouldn’tstopherselffromsearchingtheseaoffacesforWes.Undertheguiseofwelcomingguestswithhersmile,ofcourse.Atfirstshedidn’tseehim.Evenwhilelisteningtotheministerexpoundonthevirtuesoflove,shedespairedoverherdisappointmentthathe’dmissedthewedding—
Hisheadpoppedupinoneofthecenterrows,cowboyhatandall.
Thecornerofhermouthtuggedupwhensherealizedhe’dbeenhuntinginabagforGoldfishcrackerstohandhisfidgetingniece.Honestly.Wheredidhegetoffserving“JamesBondmeetsDaddyoftheYear”vibestonight?
Slowly,hisgazeliftedtomeetBethany’sandhewinked,givingherablatantonce-overthatmadehergratefulshewasshieldingherexcitednippleswithabouquetofroses.
Itcostheranefforttofocusbackinontheceremony,butshemanagedit,wellawareofWes’sraptattentiononherfromstarttofinish.Oncethebridehadbeenkissed,therewasarushtochangeGeorgieintoherreceptiondressandmakesurethemusicforherandTravis’sentrancewascuedup.
Intheromantic,starlight-dappledsetting,with“TheWayYouLookTonight”playingsoftlyfromastringquartet,thedanceshe’dpromisedWesfeltthefurthestthingfrominconsequential.
Bethanywatchedhimoutofthecornerofhereyeasshespokewithoneofthecatererwaiters.NowthatshecouldseeWesbetter,shenotedhe’dtradedinhiscowboybootsforshinyblackloafers.Still,everytimeStephenintroducedhimtosomeonenew,hesweptoffhiscowboyhatandpressedittohischest,likeBuffalogoddamnBill,thecollegeyears.ThatflashofwhiteteethandaccentuatedjawlineeverytimehesmiledwassodistractingthatBethanyalmostwalkedstraightintotheicesculpture.
“Pullyourselftogether,”shemuttered,battinganonexistentwrinkleoutofherbridesmaid’sdress.“Youarematureenoughtoknowbetter—”
“Areyoutalkingtoyourselfortheicesculpture,darlin’?”Hisshouldersshookwithsilentlaughter.“Whatthehellisthatsupposedtobeanyway?”
Bethany’schinwentupanotch.“It’stwoswanswiththeirheadsbenttogether,thuscreatingaheart.Obviously.”
Weswinked.“Didtheymodelitafteryourfrigidheart?”
“Yes.Didn’ttheydoanamazingjob?”Bethanyerectedhermiddlefingeronthefarsideofthesculpture,makingitvisiblethroughtheice.“Ifyoulookcloselyyoucanseewhichpartofmyheartyouoccupy.”
“Letmeguess.Thatwouldbethefuck-offzone?”
“Bravo,Wes.Youcan’tdiscernthebasicshapesofanimals,butyouknowyourgeography.”
Bethanyhadthestrong,stupidurgetolaugh.Notameanlaugh,either.Agood,long,bellylaugh.SparringwithWeshadalwaysbeenkindofafunpastime,butitwasalarminghowmuchshe’dbeenenjoyingitlately.Forthemostpart.Everyonceinawhile,hemadeherstomachjoltwithabarbabouttheiragedifference.Likeyesterdayafternoonwhenthey’dmettopickouttilesandhe’djokedthatshehadafewgoodyearsleftinher.Thosecommentsdidn’trolloffherbackquiteaseasilyastheothers.Asmuchasshewantedtodisregardthem…theysmarted.
Butwhy?Shouldn’tshebegratefulforthereminderthatthey’dbeenbornsevenyearsapartandweretotallyunsuitableforeachother?
Yes.Yes,sheshouldbe.Totallygrateful.
“So.Iwasthinkingofsquaringoffthosearchwaysinthehouse—”
“UncleWes!”
AblondstreakoflightningsplittheatomsbetweenWesandBethany.Asecondlater,thelaughingchildwastosseduponhiswideshoulders,knockingWes’scowboyhattothegroundandleavinghishairinsomekindof…mesmerizingmess.Needingadistractionfromhiswarmchuckleandhaphazardhair,Bethanystoopeddownandpickedupthehat,holdingitawkwardly.
“Hi,Laura,”shegreetedthechild.“Areyouenjoyingtheparty—”
“Elsa!”Laura’seyeslitup.“Howcomeyoudon’tbabysitme?”
IttookBethanyamomenttorecoverfromtheoddrushofpleasuresheexperiencedoverthechildrecallingher.EvenifsherememberedherbythewrongnameandasaDisneycharacterwhomsheapparentlyresembled.“I…well,Ileavethatinmorecapablehands.”
Laura’sforeheadwrinkled.“What?”
Wespattedthechild’sknee.“WhatElsaistryingtosay,kid,isthatsheain’tthebabysittingtype.”
“Whattypeisshe?”
“Lessmake-believe,moremake-miserable.”
BethanyandWestradedtoothysmiles
“Didyoumakethatice,Elsa?”Laurapointedpasthershoulderatthefrozenswans.“Withyourpowers?”
Notwantingtodisappoint,Bethanyleanedinandwhisperedinherear,“Yes,butyoucan’ttellanyone.Oursecret,okay?”
“Okay,”sherespondedinahushedtone,thoughherfeetwerekickingintandemagainstWes’sshoulders.“UncleWes,makeherbabysit.Please?”
Weswaslookingatherinaquietwaythatmadeherdumbstomachflutter.“Ican’tmakeherdoanything,kid.”
Bethanyopenedhermouth,thencloseditjustasfast.Wasshereallyabouttooffertobabysit?Shedidn’tknowthefirstthingaboutentertainingachild.No,itwasdefinitelybettertohaveLaurabelievehertobeafictionalprincessthantobringthatillusioncrashingdown.Anditwould.“Um.”Sheclaspedherhandstogetheratherwaist.“Thecakeiscomingsoon.Youdon’tlikecake,doyou?”
“Iloveit!”
HavingdistractedLaura,Bethanyletoutarelievedbreath,butitcaughtwhenshesawWeswasstillwatchingherinthatknowingmanner.Likehewastryingtonavigatethelandscapeofhermindandwasmakingheadway.
Orthoughthewas.
Goodluck,buddy.Ican’tevenfindmyownfootinginthere.
“Bethany!”
SheturnedtofindStephenapproachingwithabottleofSamAdamsinhishand—andshebracedherself.Herbrotherdrinkingalcoholwasneveragoodthing.Heseldomimbibed,usuallystickingtoenergydrinksandsmoothies.Hecouldn’tholdhisliquortosavehislife,eitherbecomingcompetitiveorsosentimentalaboutthepastitmadeeveryoneuncomfortable.HewaswellwithinhisrightstodrinkonGeorgieandTravis’sweddingday,butshecouldn’thelpbutthink,Herecomessomethingstupid
“Heythere,Stephen,”Bethanysaid,lookingpointedlyatthelittlegirlsittingonWes’sshoulderssoherbrotherwouldremembernottocurse.
“Heythere,”herepeated,snickering.“IwanttointroduceyoutoTravis’sagent,Donny,andhisgirlfriend.”Heturnedinacircle.“Hey,where’dtheygo?”Hewavedatsomeoneinthedistance,whoindeedturnedouttobetheslickcoupleBethanyhadseenarrivingearlier.TheywereflashyManhattantypes,comfortableintheirformalwear,andtheyextendedtheirhandstoBethanywithpracticedease.
“DonnyLynch,”startedtheagent,bringingthewomanforwardwithahandonthesmallofherback.“ThisisJustine,mygirlfriend.”
“Thankyouforcoming,”Bethanysaid,shakingbothoftheirhands.“Sonicetomeetyou.”
Stephentippedhisbeerbottletowardthedark-hairedwoman.“Justineisatelevisionproducer.”
Justineliftedashoulder.“Guilty.”
“I’vebeentellingherBrickandMortyisprimereality-showmaterial.”
Bethanysighed.Didn’tshehaveenoughonhermindtonight?Thecaterersweremakingpasseswithhorsd’oeuvretrays,butshe’donlyspottedasinglecocktailwaiterandthesit-downdinnercourseswouldstartsoon.Oneofathousandthingscouldgowrongatanysecond.“Um.Whyisitreality-showmaterial?Becauseofthefamilydrama?”
Justineperkedup.“Familydrama?”
“No,”Stephensaidfirmly,loweringhisbeerbottle.“Becauseofourunrivaledcraftsmanship.WeblowthoseHGTVhacksoutofthewater.”
“Nowthat’sastretch,”Wessaidoutofthesideofhismouth.
“Isee,”Bethanysaid,sippingherchampagne.
“I’mstillinterestedinthefamilydrama,”Justinepressedwithawidesmile.“I’msureit’sunavoidable,right?”
“Wemanagedtoavoiditforalongtime,”StephenansweredbeforeBethanycouldconfirmthatyes,familydramaranintheirveins.Apparentlythedramaonlyaffectedthosewhodidn’tgettomaketherules.“We’dstillbeavoidingitifBethanydidn’tditchthedreamteamforavanityproject.”
Bethany’smouthfellopenathiscasualdescriptionofsomethingthatcouldmakeorbreakher.Proveshewasasperfectaseveryoneassumed…orfallible.“Vanityproject?Really?”
Weswhistledunderhisbreath.“That’snothowI’dhaveputit.”
“You’vebrokenrank,haveyou,Bethany?”Justinepromptedcasually.
Herlaughsoundedunnatural.“Iamleadingmyownflip,yes,but—”
“You’reflippinghousesatthesametime.Inthesametown.”
“Yes,”BethanyandStephenrespondedatthesametime.
Justinewhippedouthercellphoneandpressedthebuttononwhatlookedlikeavoicememoapp.“Brotherandsister,duelingflips,onlyonewillemergevictorious.We’llcallitFlipOff.”
“I’msorry,what?”Bethanybrokein,hernervesbeginningtocrackle.“There’snocompetition.”
“Isn’tthere?”Justineraisedabrow.“Evenunspoken?”
“Imean”—Stephenshrugged—“Iwascertainlyplanningonkickingyourbutt.”
BethanyshotapleadinglookinWes’sdirection,butheseemedalittlepreoccupiedglaringatStephen.Howweird.Shereturnedherattentiontoherbrother.“Wearenotdoingthisatoursister’swedding.”
“WhatamIdoing?”Stephenasked,slappingahandtohischest—great,he’ddecidedtogowithcompetitiveanddefensive.Whenitcametobeingannoying,drunkmenwererightuptherewithtelemarketersandthirty-secondadvertisementsinthemiddleofaninternetvideo.
“I’lltellyouwhatyou’redoing—”WesstartedinonStephen,butBethanylaidahandonhisarmtowaylaywhateverhewasgoingtosay.
“Look.”BethanygaveJustineherbestsmile,notingabsentlythatDonnywasscrollingthroughhisemails.“There’sreallynothinginterestinggoingon.Justadifferenceofopinionbetweensiblings.Happenseveryday.”
“Right.”Justinenodded.“Stephenthinkshe’stheonlygameintownandyourflipcouldn’tpossiblycompete…”
“AndIknowthat’sbull—”ShewincedinLaura’sdirection.“Baloney.”
“Youthinkyourflipwillearnahigherappraisal.”
Bethanyknewshewasbeingmanipulated,butthatknowledgedidn’tstopherhacklesfromrising.Maybeitwasbeingintheirparents’backyard,thesceneofcountlessracesandrivalrieswithherbrother.Maybeitwasthedesperateneedtobelieveinherselfoutloud,sinceshecouldn’tdoitontheinside.Butwithalleyesonherandtheproducer’squestionhangingintheair,Bethanyheardherselfsay,“Iknowitwill.”
Stephensputtered.“You’reon.”
Wesdraggedahanddownhisface.
Lauramimickedhim.
“Let’ssee.TodayisSunday.IfImanagetomoveafewmountains,IcanhavecamerasatbothpropertiesonWednesdaymorning.I’lljustneedyourcontactinformationsomyassistantcansendyouthedetails.”Justinetappednotesintohercellphone.“Therewillbesomewaiversandinsurance,blahblah,butIknowmybossisgoingtogonutsforthis.”
“FlipOffisagreattitle,”Donnymurmuredwithoutlookingupfromhisphone.“Edgy.Cool.Goodwork,babe.”
“Thisisallhappeningsofast,”Bethanybreathed.
“Yeah,”Wesspokeup.“Maybeweshouldtalkaboutthis?”
“Whoishe?”Justine’sgazericochetedbetweenWesandBethany.“Isthistheboyfriend?Husband?What’stheconnection?”
“That’swhatI’dliketoknow,”Stephenthundered.“Actually,nevermind.Pleasedon’ttellme.Mylittlesisterliterallyjustmarriedmybestfriend.”
“He’smyforeman,”Bethanystated,handingWeshishatbackfinally.Howlonghadshebeenholdingit?“That’sall.”
“He’sbeingadamnfooloverher,”Laurasaidbrightly,interceptingthehatandploppingitonherhead.
Justinefannedherself.“Oh,thisisgold.”
Bethanysnorted,mentallysidetrackedbywhatLaurahadsaid.WasthatsomethingWeshadsaidoutloud?Didhetalktohisnieceabouther?Whydidthatmakeherinsidesfeellikethey’dbeencoatedinwarmwax?“I-it’sjustrun-of-the-millfamilypolitics—”
“Iassureyouit’snot.You’reinteresting,nottomentionveryattractive.Viewerslikewatchinggood-lookingpeoplesweat.”Justinepausedthemillion-miles-an-hourtypingonherphone.“Therewillbeaprize,too,ofcourse.”
Stephencrossedhisarms.“Whataboutatitle?”
“Why,whoeverwinswillbetheFlippingKingorQueenofPortJefferson.Crownedontelevisionandeverything.”
Oh,dammit.Justinehadthem.
Theywerewaytooimmaturetoturndownashotatthosebraggingrights.
Bethanyshouldnotdothis.Thehousetheywereflippingwasacertifiedwreckwithafuckingratcolony,infarworseconditionthatStephen’s,andherlackofexperiencealreadyhadthematadisadvantage.Shewasonshakygroundwhenitcametoherabilitiestoturnthehouseintoalivablehome,letaloneanaward-winningone.Ahomethatpeoplewouldseedissectedontelevision.
Shewouldbedissectedontelevision,alongwithhertalentforconstruction.
Orlackthereof.
StephenandBethanytradedmeasuringlooks.
Scared?mouthedherbrother.
Thedaretwistedinthesideofhernecklikeacorkscrew.“Nope,”shedrawled,soundingalittlelikeWes.“We’regoingtoputyoutoshame.”
Stephenrearedbackwithaharshlaugh.“It’son.”
“Bringit,bozo.”
Bethanyturnedonaheelandleftheraudiencegapingafterher.
Shemadeitaroundthecornerofthehousebeforeshesuccumbedtotheinundationofsheer,utterpanic.ChapterEight
WeshadnotroublefindingsomeonetokeepaneyeonLauraforafewminutes,sinceallfourofherrotatingbabysitterswerepresentattheweddingreception.Assoonashisniecedisappearedintoaflurryoffloralperfumeandchiffon,hestalkedoffintothedarknesswherehe’dseenBethanydisappear.
Hewasgoingtogiveherhell.
WhatinGod’snamewasshethinkingsigningthemuptobeguineapigsforanewrealityshow?Theyhadtwosenior-citizencrewmembers,noblueprints,andadecayingshellofahousetomakepresentable.Theywerelookingatmonthsofworkandashittonofsetbacks.He’dbeenpreparedtotackleallofithead-on,butnotwithacamerainhisface.
Orherface.
That’swhatannoyedhimthemost—thethoughtofafilmcrewfollowingBethanyaroundandcatchingallherlittleidiosyncrasieslikefirefliesinajar.Sendingoutherimagetothousandsuponthousandsoftelevisions.Hisbackteethgroundtogetherattheideaofherbeingconsumedbyanyonebuthim.
Wesstoppedshortandranahandthroughhishair,realizinghe’dlefthishatonLaura’shead.BeforeheconfrontedBethanyandaskedherifshe’dlostherever-lovingmind,heneededtogethisshittogetherandstopthinkinglikeajealousboyfriend.
Sure,hewasprotectiveofher.Possessive,too.HeputitdowntoacombinationofrespectingBethanyandbeingattractedtoher,morethanhe’deverbeenattractedtoanyone.Buthisheartwasnotinvolved.Itcouldn’tbe.Ifshechosetobroadcastherselftohouseholdsallacrossthecountry,therewasnothinghecoulddoaboutit—andfurthermore,hedidn’thaveasayinthatdecision.
Soreinitthefuckin,man.
Wesstartedtowardthebackofthehouseagain,towardwherehe’dwatchedBethanyvanish.Allright,hewouldn’tbitchatheraboutthecamerasandmakeherbelievehimanevenbiggerchauvinistthanshealreadydid,butshewassureashellgoingtohearaboutenteringthecontest,period.Theyweren’tpreparedand—
Wasthatwheezing?
Wesspurredintoajogandturnedthecornerintomostlydarkness,buttherewasjustenoughlightfromthefestivitiestoseeBethany’sdoubled-overformleaningagainstthehouse.Hisnextstepcrunchedsomeleavesandshestraightenedwithagasp,herhandsimmediatelyflutteringuptosmoothherhair.
“Sorry.”Hervoicewashoarse.“Sorry,issomeonelookingforme?”
ShetriedtobreezepastWes,buthecaughtheraroundthewaist,bringingherclosesohecouldstudyherface.Nosignoftears,butherskinwasflushed,eyesbright.Toobright.“Hey.What’swrong?”
“Nothing.I’mfine.”Sheblewoutabreath.“I’mgoingtoheadback.”
Sherestedahesitanthandonhisshoulder,contradictingherwords.
Wes’sthroattightened.Justwhatexactlyhadhestumbleduponhere?BethanyCastlewassupposedtobecoolasacucumber,incharge,infallible.Nothyperventilatinginprivate.“See,Iwasthinkingofcollectingthatdance.”
“Rightnow?”
“Rightnow.”
DisbelieftackledhimwhenBethanyseemedalmostrelieved,herotherhandslidingupontohisothershoulder,meetingitsmatebehindWes’sneck.Ifhebreathedthewrongway,themomentwasgoingtoblowawaylikepiecesofadandelion,soWesoh-so-carefullyplacedhishandsonBethany’shipsandeasedhercloser.Shelethim,herstill-shallowbreathsbathinghisthroat.“IknowitlookedlikeIwasupset,butIwasn’t.Iwasjust…”
Hegrazedthetopofherheadwithhischeek.“Youdon’thavetosayanything.Notunlessyouwantto.”
“You’relearning,cowboy.”
“I’mlearninghowtosaytherightthing.Notnecessarilythinkit.”
“Babysteps.”
OhJesus,didheloveholdingherlikethis.Allofherweightleanedonhim,hermouthnearhisneck,bellycushioninghislap.Hewasgettingahard-onandknewshecouldfeelit,butsheseemedinclinedtoexcusewhathisbodycouldn’thelp.Notwithhersoclose,sopliant.Watchingherwalkdowntheaisleearlierinhershortgreensilkdress,Weshadn’ttakensomuchasabreath.Nevermindwhatthewholegetupdidforherbody,cuppinganddrapinginplacesheshouldn’tbethinkingaboutduringareligiousceremony.Withlightshiningdownonhersmilingface,she’dbeen…angelic.
Forasplitsecond,justasplitsecond,he’dpicturedherwalkingthatsameaisleinaweddinggown,and,hourslater,hewasstillconfusedbythepressurearoundhiswindpipe.Hecouldn’taccountforit.Marriagewasn’tforhim.Hislifewasaseriesoftemporarysituationsandhadbeensincehecouldremember.This—hislifeinPortJefferson—wasdefinitelytemporary.Bethany’slifeherewaspermanent,however,whichmeantshemightverywellwalkdowntheaisleinwhiteoneday.Andthatthoughtkeptreplayinginhisheadlikeanaggravatingpopsongonrepeat.
Wesbrushedhisthumbacrossherbareshoulderandshesighed,drawinghisbrowstogether.Morethananything,hewantedtocontinuedancingwithherlikethis,inthequietprivacy,savoringtheirtruce,butsomethingwasbotheringher.Enoughtosendherrunningfromtheweddingintohiding.Hecouldn’tforcehertotellhimwhatexactlywaswrong,butmaybehecouldmakeherfeelbetter.
Yeah,hewantedthatmorethananything.
“Youknow,wecanstillturndownthiswholereality-shownonsense.”
Bethanylaughedintohisshoulderandheclosedhiseyes,tuggingherjustalittlecloserandprayinghegotawaywithit.“Thankyoufortoningdownwhatyouactuallywanttosay.”Shelookedupathim.“Youwerecomingbackheretoyellatmeforbeinganimpulsiveidiot,weren’tyou?”
“Yes.”
Herlowlaughwreakedhavocinhischest.“Goahead.Noone’sstoppingyou.”
“I’dratherknowwhyyouacceptedtheofferifitstressesyouout.”
“I…”Sheseemedtobesearchingforananswerwhilestaringathisthroat.“I’mnotsurethereisonethingthatdoesn’tstressmeout.”
Hecontinuedtoturntheminaslowcircle.“Groceryshopping?”
“Sure.Agoodhostessalwayshastherightitemsonhandatalltimes.TheJustUsLeaguemeetingsareheldatmyhouse,anddairyallergies,gluten-freediets,veganregimes…allofthemhavetobeaccountedfor.”
“Allright.Howaboutbaths?Thosecan’tstressyouout.”
“NotifIaddtherightamountofessentialoil.”
“Christ.Sex?”
“Sex?Areyoukiddingme?”Shewetherlips.“Howismylighting,isthemanpresent,canhetellI’mnotpresent,amIreallyascoldasmensaybecauseIcan’tlosemyselfinthesemoments,isthiscreatinganexpectation,howdoesmybuttlook,whereishisdog?Icouldgoon.”Abeatpassed.“Ishouldn’tbetellingyouanyofthis.You’rejustgoingtouseitagainstme.”
Damn.Howdidshemakeeveryonethinkshehadtheworldonastringwhen,inactuality,theworldwasholdingherbyone?Wesputhissurpriseasideandtippedherchinup.“Iherebysolemnlysweartousenothingyousaidtonightagainstyou.”Hisfingersspreadouttospanherjaw,histhumbslidingacrossherbottomlip.“I’lljustsaythis.Ifyou’vehadtimetothinkofallthatbullshitduringsexinthepast,Icompletelyunderstandthemanhiatusyou’reon.”
OneofherhandssmootheddownWes’schestandheheldinagroan.“Areyouimplyingyou’dwipemymindclean”—sheliftedonhertoesandbroughtherlipswithinabreathofhis—“ofallthosedistractingthoughts?”
“I’mflat-outtellingyou,Bethany…”Heghostedhismouthoverhers,tastingherunevenexhaleonhistongue.“I’dkeepyoutoobusytothink.”
Shepressedherbellymoresecurelytohislap.“Toobadsexisoffthetable.”
“Weddingsdon’tcount.”Hetiltedhishipstoletherfeelhisarousal,grazingherbottomlipwithhisteethatthesametime.“Everyoneknowsthat.”
Herheadfellbackandhedraggedhislipsslowlyupthesmoothcolumnofherneck,lettinggoofherchininfavorofdrawinghertightagainsthisbody.Fuck,hewashard.Distantly,heheardsomemicrophonefeedback,thebandhittingabadnote,andjustassumedhewassohorny,thewholedamnpartywasbeingaffected.Noonewascomingbackhere.Godwillingnoonewouldcomelookingforthem.Whoknewifhe’devergetanotherchancelikethiswithBethany?
“Wes…”
Hewasalreadywalkingthemfurtherintotheshadows.“Iknow,darlin’.”
“Wes,Ineedyou.”
“Goddamn.Beendyingtohearyousaythat.”Stillinmotion,hishandsfoundthehemofherdressandliftedittoherwaist,leavingitbunchedtheresohecouldgreedilypalmherbackside.“Hardandquick,baby?Thatwhatyouneed?”
“Hardand—what?”Sheshovedhimaway.“Jesus,Wes.Ididn’tmeanIneededyouforsex.Pullyourlifetogether.”
AfullfivecountspassedbeforeherealizedBethanywasn’tfinallygivinghimthegreenlight.Frustrationandawholelotofthrobbingbelowthebeltmadehistonesnappierthanwaswarranted.“Whatthehellelsedoyouneedmefor?”
HiswordswerestillhangingintheairwhenBethanygrabbedhiselbowandstarteddragginghimbacktowardtheparty.“Kristin.Iknewshe’dtryandpullsomethinglikethis.Youhavetohelpmestopher.”
“Stop…Stephen’swife?Dowhat?Bethany,youbringmedownthererightnow,I’mgoingtotakesomeone’seyeoutwiththiserection.”
Shewasn’thearinghim.“Mysister-in-lawisnuts.Andpregnant.She’sbeenpregnantformonthsandhasn’ttoldStephen.”Shepointedtowardwherethebandwasgatheredand,sureenough,therewasKristintryingtoprythemicrophoneoutofthebandleader’shand.“She’sgoingtoannouncethepregnancyrighthereandnow,thewacko.”
“Atsomeoneelse’swedding?”Theurgencyofthesituationfinallypuncturedhisneedforthewomanbesidehim.Kindof.Okay,barely.“That’sprettymessedup.”
“Yes,itis.Thankyou.”Shelookeddownattheswellbehindhisflyandchewedherlip.“Canyougetthatthingundercontrol?”
“It’snotapuppy,Bethany,”hesaidthroughhisteeth.
“Sorry.”Theonlysavinggraceofthissituationwasthefactthatsheseemedimpressed,hergazecontinuallyreturningtothesceneofthecrime.“CanIhelp?”
“Ithoughtthat’swhatyouweredoing.”Hedraggedahanddownhisface.“Youputtingourreputationsinthehandsofreality-showeditorswhocanmanipulatewhatevertheyfilmtomakeuslooklikejackasses.I’llthinkofthat.Itshouldtakecareoftheprobleminnotime.”
“Asifyouneedanyhelplookinglikeajackass,”sheshotback.“AndIknewyouwerecomingtoyellatme!”
Theprettyblushhe’dputonhercheekswasreplacedbyanirritatedredandhewishedhe’djustkepthismouthshut.Blametheboner.MoremicrophonefeedbackmadeitswaytowheretheystoodandWessighed.“Youwantmyhelpornot?”
“I’mnotexactlyflushwithchoices.”Shetappedherchin.“I’lltakeKristin.Youcauseadiversion.”Shepointedtohis—finally—subsidinghard-on.“Adiversionwithouttheuseofthat,please.I’dratherKristinannounceshe’shavingquadruplets.”
Weswinkedatherwhileadjustinghimself.“Nowwho’spossessiveofwho?”
Pinkclimbedherneck,hereyesfollowinghismovements.“Oh,shutup.”
Helaughedandtheystartedwalkingsidebysidetowardthedancefloor.“Isshereallyhavingquadruplets?”
“Probably.Justtoshowoff.”Shesquaredhershoulders.“Don’tletmedown,Wes.I’mcountingonyou.”
Justbeforetheypartedwaysattheedgeofthedancefloor,Wessnaggedherhandandleaneddowntospeakbesideherear.“Youlookfuckingbeautifultonight,incasenoonetoldyou.”
Heleftherstandingwithherjawonthefloorandslidseamlesslyintoahuddledgroupofwomen,whojusthappenedtobeLet’sColor,FadedCalfTattoo,GreenBeanCasserole,andOutlanderRingtone.
“Whatdidyouladiesdowithmyniece?”TheysteppedasidetogivehimaviewofLauradancingwithGeorgie.Hislaughturnedherheadandshewavedathimenthusiastically,creatingasuspicioustuginhisthroat.“Well,ladies.Arewegoingtogivethemarunfortheirmoneyornot?”
WesspunFadedCalfTattooaround,muchtoherdelight,andthentooktheopportunitytocheckonBethany’sprogressacrossthedancefloor.Lord.Shelookedreadytostranglehersister-in-lawwiththemicrophonecord,butRosiehadgotteninvolved,too,andappearedtobetalkingsomesenseintothepissed-offpregnantwoman.Tryingtoholduphisendofthebargain,WestwirledFadedCalfTattooonemoretime,thenmultitaskedwhilesheturned,droppingOutlanderRingtonebackintoadip.Theirantics,asexpected,weredrawingalotofattention,evenBethany’s—andshesenthimasmall,secret,gratefulsmilethat,dammit…hadhimthinkingaboutherwalkingdowntheaisleinaweddingdressagain.
WeswasjustabouttobringathirdladyintothedanceandreallyratchetupthediversionwhenTravis,obviouslyoblivioustothedrama,savedthedaybycasuallypluckingthemicrophoneoutofthebandleader’shand.“Excuseme,everyone.Ihaveanannouncement.”Hesmiledattheguests,seemingtonoticeforthefirsttimethatKristinwastwofeetaway,scowlingathim.“Er…didI…”
“Nope!”Bethanysaidbrightly.“Goahead.Makeyourannouncement.”
BethanywrappedanarmaroundKristin,whotriedtodiginherheels,andescortedheroutofsight.
“Okay.”Confidencerestored,Travisliftedapintofbeer.“Ijustwanttomakeatoasttomywife.”Hestopped,hiscomposureslippingagain,hiseyesdevelopingasheen.“Wow.FirsttimeI’vegottentosaythat.Mywife,GeorgetteCastle.”Therewasn’tasoundtobeheard,savethewindrustlingthetreesinthebackyard.“Youmademethehappiestmanalivetoday.AndIknowyoudon’tneedasinglething.Idon’t,either,nowthatI’vegotyou.ButIcan’thelpwantingtogiveyoueverythingintheworld,sobearwithme.Okay?Buckleup,babygirl,becausewe’regoingtoItaly.Tonight.Yourbagsarealreadypacked.”
Agaspwentup,followedbyaloudcheer.
Somewhereoutsidethelimelight,Kristinwailedmiserably.
Weslaughed.Afewminuteslater,Bethanylockedeyeswithhimacrossthedancefloor.Slowly,somemightsaygrudginglyonherend,theymadetheirwaybacktoeachother,meetinginthecenterofthecelebrants.Theyweretheonlyoneswhoweren’tdancing,buttherewerealmostenoughsparksleapinginhereyestoqualify.Afterdancingwithherbehindthehouse,feelingherletgoandbreatheupagainsthischest,itwasnearlyimpossiblenottoreachforhernow.Howcouldtouchingherbewrongwhenhishandsfeltemptywithouther?
“Thankyouforthediversion,”shestarted.
Hewinkedanditseemedtomomentarilydistracther.“Anytime.”
“Itoccurredtome”—shecrossedherarmsataverypreciseangle—“thatIneveraskedifyouwerecomfortablebeinginvolvedintherealityshow.Ifyouwantout,I’lltotallyunderstand—”
“Idon’tscarethateasy.”
Sheinclinedherhead,herbodysaggingeversoslightly.Withrelief?“ThenIguessI’llseeyouonWednesday.”
“Iguessso.”Shestartedtoturnaway,buthestoppedher.“Hey,Bethany?”
“Yes?”
Thewordsseemedtocomefromthedeadcenterofhisstomach.“MaybeIcouldbetheonethingyoudon’toverthink,allright?”
Themusicfadedalittlearoundthem.Wescouldseethepulseatthebaseofherneckgoingathousandmilesanhour,despitehercollectedexpression.Forafewmoments,theywerebackbehindthehouseandshewasbaringhervulnerabilitiestohim,butjustasquickly,shesnatchedthembackupwithaslysmile.“WhosaysIthinkaboutyouatall?”
Wes’slowlaughfollowedherbacktotheothersideofthedancefloor.Goddamn,shewassomethingelse.Hecouldn’twaitforWednesdaywhenhe’dgetthehonorofmatchingwitswithheragain.Hell,justbeingaroundher.Seeingher,thistimewiththeaddedknowledgeofhowsheticked.Theyweregoingtobeonthesameteam.Itwouldbeanunderstoodfact,ifonlyforthetimeittooktorenovatethehouse.
Although,forthefirsttime,thefinishlineattheendofhisstayinPortJeffersonwasobscuredbyafinelayerofmist.Asomedayasopposedtoasoon.Withanalarmedshakeofhishead,heclearedthemistandwenttofindhisniece,callinghimselftentimesafool.ChapterNine
BethanygottothesiteearlyonWednesdaymorningandparkedonthestreet,asthey’dbeenadvisedtodoviathefuriousroundsofemailsthathadarrivedsincethewedding.AsofSunday,she’dhadzerocluehowtelevisionproductionscametogether.
Todaysheconsideredherselfareluctantexpert.
Thoughshe’dagreedtoappearontheshow,she’dnearlyescapedherpanicbyreasoningtherewasnowaythefilmingofatelevisionshowcouldbepulledtogethersoquickly.Surelyshe’dbeletoffthehook.
Apparentlyshe’dunderestimatedamotivatedproducerwithaflexiblebudget.SinceSundaynight,afullcameracrew,completewithdirector,hadbeenpulledoffanin-progressrealityshowcalledAirBn’Ballers,whichhadbeensettofilmintheHamptons.Thatgemhavingbeenputonhold,thecrewmadetheirwaytoPortJeffersoninstead
Nowthedrivewaywasreservedforthecameras,producers,director,soundandlightingcrew,nottomentionaboutadozenproductionassistants—theimminentpresenceofwhommadeherwanttopukeherbreakfastintotheratty-asslawn.
Shewasequalpartsthrilledforhersister’sItalianhoneymoonandsadthatshedidn’thaveGeorgie’sirreverentbanterinherear.Itdefinitelywouldhavehelpedhergetthroughdemoday
Itwasn’tasthoughshe’dneverbeenpresentduringthedemolitionofahome’sinterior.Askids,theirfatherhadbroughtthemalongtowitnesstheguttingofhousesmanytimes.Evenasanadult,she’dwatchedwallsbeingrippeddown,floorboardsbeingpriedup.Seendebristossedoutwindowsorcarriedtodumpsters.Therewassomethingindescribablysatisfyingaboutbreakingdowntheoldtomakewayforthenew.Thatsenseofexhilarationdisplayedbyothershadsparkedherinterestinheadingherownflipinthefirstplace.Shewantedtoexperiencethatrushofpleasure.
Sofewthingsgaveherthatreductionoftension.Wouldburyingasledgehammerinsomedrywallleaveherbonelessandtoodepletedtothinkofwhatcamenextforfiveminutes?God,shehopedso.Shewasstartingtoworryaboutherinabilitytositstill.Wasitnormal?Thistotalfailuretobehappywithanyofhereffortsorbesatisfiedwithheraccomplishments?
Shehadn’tbeenlyingwhenshetoldWeswaytoomuchatthewedding.Ithadbeenaweakmoment,nothingmore…thoughshetrustedthathewouldn’tuseherrevelationsagainsther.Shewasn’tsurewhysheheldthattrustinhim,onlythatitwasrocksolid.
Bethanycaughtsightofherthoughtfulfrownintherearviewmirrorandshookherself.
SincethefinalguesthadleftonSundaynight,she’dbeencleaningherparents’backyard,returningthecateringcompanyequipment,packingupthegiftsandleavingthemarrangedjustsoinGeorgieandTravis’slivingroom,sotheycouldopenthemuponreturningfromFlorence.
Everyonehadlefttheweddinghappyandloaded,aswasalwaysthehope.Sowhyhadshelainawakeforthelasttwonightstryingtopickeverymomentapartforsomethingthathadn’tbeenperfect?Therewasfoodleftover.Didthatmeanpeopledidn’tlikeit?Shouldshehaveprovidedacoatcheck?Whythehellhadn’tsheconsideredadamncoatcheck?Nowthosejacketsdrapedonthebacksofchairswouldbeinphotographsphotobombingforalleternity.That’showpeoplewouldrememberthewedding,wouldn’tthey?
Conversely,whenBethanythoughtofthewedding,shewouldrememberhowmuchofherasscheekcouldfitinWes’shand.Asin,thewholething.She’dneverhadherbuttgrippedwithsuchauthoritybefore—andwhycouldn’tshedredgeupsomemoreindignationaboutit?He’dliftedherdressandgrabbedtwohandfulsandshecouldonlyworkupthebarestirritation.Therewassomethingdefinitelywrongwithher.Itwasthelackofsleep.Definitely.
Shecertainlyhadn’tlikedit.
Orhumpedhervibratorthinkingaboutituntilshestrainedahamstring.
Bethanyslappedopenthedriver’s-sidevanitymirrorandsmoothedaridgeofunblendedconcealerbeneathhereyewiththepadofherpinky.Hermovementspausedwhensheheardthecrunchofgravelbehindher,excitementleapinginherbellybeforeshecouldstopit.ThatwouldbeWesarriving,butshewouldn’tgetouttogreethim.No,she’dstaylockedinhercarwhereshewassafefrombadideas.
Bethanyonlymadeittoacountoftenbeforetighteningherponytailandclimbingoutofthecar.Shedrewupshortwhen,insteadofWesandhisdinged-uptruck,shesawaveryattractivemanleaningagainstablacktowncar,completewithdriver.TheJamesMarsdenlookalikewaslaughingatsomethingonthescreenofhiscellphone,anklescrossedinacarelessway.
“CanIhelpyou?”
Themanseemeddisinclinedtolookupfromhisphone,buthefinallydid,performingadoubletake.“Oh.”Hepushedoffthetowncar.“Hellothere.Didtheybringinanotherhosttoreplaceme?”
Bethanyfrowned.“Sorry?”
“Well,youcan’tbethehomeowner.”Heputhishandoutforashake,slidingitsmoothlyintohers,holding.“Withthatface,they’dbebadattheirjobsiftheyputyouinthebackground,insteadoffrontandcenter.”
Wow.Bethanywasashamedtoadmitthatlinemighthaveworkedonherbefore.Thisguywassoherusualtype,ithurt.Shetendedtogravitatetowardmenwithimpeccablestyle.Complimentarymen.Menwhosawthebestinherandpointeditout,ratherthanbringupherworstqualitiesconstantly,likeacertainsomeonesheknew.
Youlookfuckingbeautifultonight,incasenoonetoldyou.
WarmthfloodedherstomachatthememoryofWessayingthosewordstoheratthewedding,hastyandoddlytimedasthey’dbeen.WhydidWes’scomplimentsgetaphysicalreactionoutofherwhilethisman’spraiselefthertotallycold?
Shedidn’tknow.Butthehiatustrainrolledon.
“Iamthehomeowner,actually.”Bethanyshookhishandfirmlyandletgo.“Andyouare?”
“SladeHogan.”Histeethalmostblindedherwhenhesmiled.“Can’tlie,I’mgladIpickedtodaytoshowupearly.Thatalmostneverhappens.”
“Crazy.”
Helaughedeventhoughshehadn’tmadeajoke.“YouprobablyrecognizemefromInsanePorches?Itranfortwoseasons.”
“Oh,right.”Shedidn’t.“Ithoughtyoulookedfamiliar.”
“Igetthatalot.”Hesquintedpasthertowardthehouse.“Ouch,theyreallythinkthecrewcangetthisdoneintwoandahalfweeks?”
“Excuseme?”Bethanyblinked.“Twoandahalfweeks?”
Sladeshruggedashoulder.“That’sthetermofmycontract.BeingthatI’mavitalpartoftheshow—”
“Theshowtheycreatedontheflythreedaysago?”
“Yes.”Hestoppedandconsideredher,asthoughdecidingwhetherornothe’dbeeninsulted.“Anyway,myagenttellsmethisparticularfilmcrewhastoresumeproductionofAirBn’Ballersinthreeweeks,sothereisatightdeadlinetofilmthispilot.Nottoworry,though,I’msureyou’vegotacapableteam.”
“Suredo.”
ThesoundofanapproachingengineturnedbothoftheirheadsandBethanyalmostlaughed.OfcourseWestookthatmomenttopullup.Herunlikelyforemanclimbedoutofhistruckwithalltheaplombofagunslingerdismountinghishorse.HeeyeballedBethanyandSladefrombeneaththebrimofhiscowboyhat,tuckedhisfingersintotheloopsofhisjeans,andtraversedthedrivewaywithhislong-leggedstride.“Morning.”
“Morning,”Bethanyreplied,mentallyberatingherhormonesforrespondingtothesightofhisfreshlyshavenjaw,thewetendsofhishair.Themorningbreezeplasteredhislong-sleeved,paint-splashedshirttohisbodyanditreallyshouldhaveannoyedherthathe’dshownuptobefilmedfortelevisioninanoldstainedshirt.Butitdidn’t.Itmadeher…gladtoseehim.Forsomereason.Alotgladderthanshe’dbeentoseethehotshowhost.“ThisisSladeHogan,”shesaid,introducingthemanwhenWesdreweven.“He’sgoingtohosttheshow.”
WesraisedaneyebrowatBethany.
Sheraisedoneback.Don’tyoudarelaughathisname.
Wessighed.
TherewasnomistakingSlade’swincewhenthemenshook.“Youplanningonpitchingin?”WesaskedSlade.
“Me?”Sladelaughed.“No.Ionlyholdahammerforpromotionalpurposes.”
HeseemedtobewaitingforBethanytolaugh,sosheobligedhiminthehopesofbalancingtheawkwardnessWeswasworkingtocreate.Herhostessmentalitydidn’tcomeandgoatwill,andtherewasnopointinmakingSladeuncomfortable.Especiallywhenitlookedlikethey’dbestuckwithoneanother’scompanyforovertwoweeks.
“I’msureyou’llfindsomethingtokeepyoubusy,”Wesdrawled,takingasteptowardBethany.“Somethingelse,thatis.”
Silencelanded,themenstaringhardateachother.
“I’msuretherewillbeplentyofphotoops,”Bethanysaidwithoutmissingabeat,takingholdofWes’sarmandtugginghimintothescrappysideyard.“CanItalktoyou?”
HewasstilllookingatSlade.“Sure,darlin’.”
“Noproblem.Goahead.”Slade’svoicewastighterthanbefore.“Ihaveamillioncallstomake.”
“Bettergettoit,”Wessaid,tuggingdownthebrimofhishat.“Slade.”
Withherbackturnedawayfromthehost,Bethanyrolledhereyeslikeanexasperatedtwelve-year-old.Shecastaglanceoverhershouldertomakesuretheyweren’tbeingwatched—andthenshejabbedherfingerintoWes’schest.“Iamonlygoingtosaythisonemoretime.Iamnotyourchewtoy.Wearenotinvolvedandthereforeyouarenotallowedtotellothermentobackoff.Imakethatdecision!Me!”
Wessnorted.“Ididyouafavor.Anymanwithhandsthatsoftwillonlystealyourmoisturizer.”
Theurgetolaughwasseriouslyinconvenient.“Ididn’taskyoutodomeafavor,cowboy.”
“Aha!Soyou’readmittingitwasafavor?”
“No,Iamnot,”sheenunciated.“Iamadmittingnothing.”
Wescontemplatedherquietlyforafullfiveseconds.“YoureallyinterestedinHammerPromoGuy,Bethany?”
Shewasn’t.Infact,shewaspainfullydisinterested.Whichwasalarming,tosaytheleast.Normally,shewouldstillbeworkingoveramanlikeSladewithcharm.Instead,shewasarguingwithWes.Again.Howdidshekeependinguphere?Andwhywasn’tshedoingmoretoavoidit?
“Idon’thavetoanswerthat,”shewhisper-screeched.“ButifIdecidedIwasinterested,thatwouldbeokay.I’mallowed.”
Hisjawflexed.“Let’ssaythehostwasthefemaleversionofSlade.You’djustbefinewatchingmeflipmyhairaroundandflirting?”
Bethanybattledasmile.“Actually,I’dpaygoodmoneytowatchyouflipyourhairaround.CanIfilm?”
“YouknowwhatImeant,”hegrowled.“Answerthequestion.”
SheenvisionedherselfpullinghercarintothedrivewayandfindingWesputtingthemovesonsomefacelesswoman,alltwinklingeyesandWrangler-bootyswagger.Theliningofherstomachturnedtoacid.“Iwasn’tflippingmyhair,”shecroaked,caughtoffguardbyherownreaction.
Wessteppedcloserandtheirfingersbrushed.“Admityouwouldn’tlikeit.”
Bethany’sheadshakewasalittletoovigorous.
Enoughtocarrysomewarmthintohisexpression.“Whatyoutoldmeattheweddingaboutyoursexlife…IknowIpromisedIwouldn’tuseitagainstyou,sothisistotallyunrelated.”
Shesnorted.“Iknewyouwouldn’tbeabletoresist.”
“Ah,comeon.It’sjustthetwoofusstandinghere,”hemurmured,twiningtheirindexfingerstogether.“Ifyoudateguyslikethat,itdoesn’tsurprisemeyoucan’trelaxandstopoverthinkingeverything.They’renotdoinganyofthethinkingforyou.”
Godhelpher,sheactuallywantedtohearhislogic,becausesheneededalltheadviceshecouldget.She’doncehadaperfectplantofindsomeoneasdrivenandsuccessfulasherself.Thatplanhadn’tpannedout.Now,she’dkindofjust…givenup.Sowhatwouldithurttoconsidersomeoneelse’sopinion?EvenWes’s?Notthatshewouldlethimknowshewaslisteningtohisspielwillingly.“Ihadnoideayouwereanexpertonsexandrelationships.”
“I’mnot.ButI’mguessingSladewouldbeoverthinkinginthesack,too.”HetradedtheTexasaccentforadistinctlyHollywoodmillennialone.“‘WhydidmylatestInstagrampostonlyhitfourthousandlikes?DidIremembertomakemytoewaxingappointment?ShouldItryasidepart?’”
Bethanylaughedandlightnessfilteredintoherchest.Itwas…nicelaughingatthingsthatwouldnormallystressherout,evenifshecouldn’tmakeitahabit.Wait.Howlonghadtheybeenholdinghands?Outintheopen?“Mendon’thavetoridebullstobemasculinelikeyou—”
Herearedbackalittle,amusementwrittenonhisfeatures.“HowdidyouknowIrodebulls?”
“I…”Panicking,shetuggedherhandaway,shovingitintoherpocket.“Thatwasawildstab.Amereexample.”
“No,itwasn’t.”Aslowsmilespreadacrosshisface.“SpeakingofInstagram,you’vebeendoingalittlecyberstalking,haven’tyou,baby?”
Bethanytookastepback,buthefollowed.“Hardly.Ijustwantedtomakesuremyforemanhadasavoryonlinepresence.”
“And?”Hewinked.“Didyousavorit?”
“Shutup.”
Hecaughtherwristandpulledherclose,makingherstomachfliplikeshewasonarollercoaster.“Ilookedatyours,too.”Shedidn’thaveachancetoprocessthatbeforehecontinued.“Ilikebeingreferredtoasyourforeman,”hemused.“It’sgotanicering.”
“EspeciallycomparedtowhatIusuallycallyou.”
“Truth.It’sadefiniteimprovementfromdickhead.”Histhumbbrushedoverthepulseinherwrist.“Tellmeyou’renotinterestedinhim,Bethany.”
Herholdongoodsenseslipped.“I’mnotinterestedinhim,”shemurmured,shakingherheadatthetriumphantblazeinhiseyes.“But…Wes,Idon’tget…this.You’renotintownpermanently.I’mnotinterestedinafling—andevenifIwas,you’vewiselyremovedsexfromtheequation—”
“Deepestregretofmylife.”
“Yeah,prettyshortsightedofyou.”
“I’llbringsexbackintotheequationwhenyouknowIdidn’tjusttakethisjobtoimprovemychancesofsleepingwithyou.”
“I—”She’dalmostsaidIdoknowthatnow.Likeatotalmoron.“Thatstillwouldn’tinspiremetoendmymanhiatus.”
GazelingeringonthenecklineofherT-shirt,Weslickedthecornerofhismouth.“Keeptellingyourselfthat.”Heconsideredherforabeat—abovetheneckthistime.“Idon’thaveanswerstoallofyourquestions.Ican’tdefinewhat’sgoingonbetweenus,either.Butmaybethat’sexactlywhatyouneed.”
“OhJesus.EverytimeIstarttothinkyou’reredeemable,yousaysomethingsofuckingstupid,IwishforatimemachinesoIcangobackandneverhearit.”Shewentuponhertoestogetinhisface.“Don’ttellmewhatIneed.”
“You’dlikemetodemonstrateinstead?”
Iwould.Butdon’tlethimknowit.“Imean.”Shetiltedherheadtoexposeherneck.Asin,Look,here’smyneck,byaccident.“HowcanIanswerthatwhenIhavenoideawhatademonstrationmightentail?”
Hislipspausedjustaboveherpulse.“ComecloserandI’llshowyou.”
“Fine.JustsoIcanpaintanaccuratepicture,”shemanaged,heatstartingtopumpinplacesonlyWesseemedcapableofaccessing.Cautiously,hertoespushedherupanotherinchtowardhisface.
Chuckling,Wesdroppedhismouththeremainingdistancetoherneck,trailingupthecurve—lightly,solightly—andpausingatherear.Oh,thatwasgood.Toogood.“Tookthosebullsagoodlongwhiletobuckmeoff,baby.Thinkyoucoulddoit?”
“We’renotgoingtofindout,”shebreathed,hernipplestighteninglikeboltsandmakinghersoundlikealiar.“Bytheway,thatkindoftalkdoesn’tdomuchtodampenmybeliefthatyou’reheretogetlaid.”
“Youloveitjustthesame,”heraspedagainsthermouth.“SamewayIloveitwhenyoureyesgetallunfocused,likeyou’retryingtorememberwhyI’mabadidea.”
“Hey,folks!”Acameracrewwaswalkingupthedriveway,Justineleadingthewaywithaheadsetandaclipboard.Theyappearedtobe…rolling.Asin,filmingherandWesinanearlip-lock.“Ihadafeelingthisshootwouldbeajackpot,”Justinecalled,wavingherclipboard.“Pleasecontinuetoprovemeright.”
BethanytookabackwardlungeawayfromWes.“Justdiscussingplans!”
Wessmiledwithoutsomuchasacknowledgingthecamera.“I’llsay.”ChapterTen
BethanystoodshouldertoshoulderwithWes.
They’dbothbeenpositionedbehindananimatedSlade,whowastapinghisintroductioninfrontoftwocameras,aboommicoperator,andalightingcrew.Itwascrazytowitnesshowquicklyhe’dshiftedfrommiffedprimadonnatojocularconstructionguruassoonasthecamerasstartedrolling.Itprobablyhelpedthathewasreadingoffaprompter.
“Greetings,DIYjunkies,you’vetunedintoFlipOff—anewdrama-fueledcompetitionshowwherefamilymembersfliptwodifferenthousesandviefortheultimatebraggingrights.Whoflippeditbest?We’recomingtoyoufromPortJefferson,LongIsland,andboyohboy,dowehaveatreatforyou!Althoughtheword‘treat’mightbepushingit,becauseourfirstfeaturedpropertyisquitefranklytheworsthomeI’vehadthepleasureofseeingrestoredtoitsformerglory.Andthat’sexactlywhatyouplantodohere,isn’tit,Bethany?”
ThecameraswunginherdirectionandBethany’sheartclimbeduntilitwascloggingherthroat.ShelookedtoJustine,buttheproduceronlyprovidedanencouragingfingerroll.
“Um…”Comeon.Pullittogether.She’dgottenherselfintothismess;theleastshecoulddowasfakeituntilshemadeit.AndGodknew,shefakedhavinghershittogetheroftenenoughthatsheshouldknowthedrill.
Thestakeswerealothigherthistime,though.Shewasn’tplanningapartyorstylingtheperfectoutfit.Orevengoingonadateandtryingtorepresentamuchmoretogetherversionofherselfthanreallyexisted.Ifacrackformedinherwalls—literallyandfiguratively—shewouldn’tbeabletohideit
Shesmiledbrightly.“Yes,that’stheplan!”
“Fantastic!”Sladesidledtotheright.“Andwhoareyouherewithtoday?”
“Thisismyforeman,Wes.He’s—”
“Folksathome,thisiswherethingsgetevenmorejuicy.See,Bethanyiscompetingagainstherownbrother,Stephen,whoisflippingahouseacrosstown.Weshereishisformercrewmember.Ooooh,baby,thingsaregoingtogetinteresting.Youdon’twanttomissit.StaytunedforthisfamilydramaonFlipOff.Nextup:demo.”
“Cut!”calledthedirector.“Didwegetourbeforeshots?Insideandout?”
“Stillneedtogetthemaster!”adisembodiedvoicecalledfrombehindtheblindinglights.“Backyard,too.Giveusten.”
“Great.”Justinemadesomenotesonherclipboard.“WehavetogetacrosstownforStephen’sintroduction,solet’sgetsomegooddemofootage.Afterthat,weneedsomeindividualon-camerainterviewswithWesandBethany,togetherandseparate.We’llbedoingthisfrequentlytogetyourreactions.”
“Towhat?”Weswantedtoknow.
“Toeverything.Constructionprogress,tensionamongthecrew…”Justinelookedaround.“Speakingofyourcrew,doyouhaveone?”
“Thatwouldbeus,ma’am.”
Bethanyshieldedhereyesfromthelight,duckingdownuntilshebroughttwosenior-citizenmenintoview.Onehadapairofcheaterglassestuckedintothecollarofhisshirt;theotheroneappearedtoberubbingabumleg.
CheaterGlasseswavedather,accidentallybumpinghisfriendwithastrayelbow.Whichledtothemgripingateachother.“Didn’tknowweweregoingtobeonTV,”saidCheaterGlasses.“I’mnotgoingtoberequiredtocarryanything,amI?Mybackisn’twhatitusedtobe.”
Backteethgrindingtogether,BethanylookedatWes.“Wheredidyoufindthem?”
Heavoidedmakingeyecontact.“Thehardwarestore.”
Shestared.
“There’sasystem,”hesaidcurtly.“You’renotmeanttounderstandit.”
“AndthankGodforthat.”
Justineapproachedher,headburiedinherclipboard.“Right.We’llbringinsomeinternstohelp…fleshoutyouramazingcrew.Notemysarcasm.”
HeatswampedBethany’sface.Theoperationwasalreadyshowingcracks,meaningshewasshowingthem.It’salreadyhappening.“We’dappreciatethat,thanks.”
Justinesailedaway,mutteringsomethingaboutroundingouttheGrumpyOldMenfranchiseintoatrilogy.BeforeWescouldintroducehertoCheaterGlassesandBumLeg,oneofthecollege-ageproductionassistantsapproachedherwithasledgehammer.“MissCastle,ifyoucouldcomewithme,please?Wewanttocheckthelightingonthewallyouplanondemolishingfirst.”
Sheacceptedtheheavytool.“Right.Whichwallisthat?”
Theyoungmanblinked.“Youdon’thaveastartingpoint?”
“Oh,me?Ihaveastartingpoint.Sure.”Bethanyturnedinacircle,thesledgehammerreboundingoffhercalfmuscle.“Thatone?”Shepointedatthewater-damagedlivingroomwall,consultingwithWesoutofthecornerofhereye.Whenhegaveheranimperceptiblenod,sheletoutthebreathshe’dbeenholding.“Yes,thatone.”
“Great.”
OffwentthePA,alreadythrowinghandsignalstothemobilelightingcrew.
“SoI’mjustsupposedtoburythishammerintothewall?”shewhisperedtoWes.“Just…makeamess?Noexactsciencetoit?”
“Notforthisparticularwall,no.There’snoplumbing,gaslines—Icamethroughlastweekandmarkedthem.”Heindicatedtheorangespray-paintedXsinthekitchenanddiningroomthatshe’dneglectedtonoticeuntilnow.“We’vegotthreeload-bearingwalls:oneinthelivingroom,oneinthebackbedroom,andtheotherinthehallway,butwe’llcrossthatbridgewhenwecometoit.”
Load-bearingwalls?Gaslines?IfWesweren’there,shecouldhavestartedafireorcollapsedtheroofondayone.Whathadshebeenthinkingagreeingtohavethisprocessbroadcasted?Whathadshebeenthinkingtakingonthisflipatall?Bethanywrangledherrunawaypanicandtriedtofocusonthehereandnow.“Okay.WhatifIhitthewallanditdoesn’tevencrack?”
“Bethany,youcouldprobablyflickarubberbandatthatwallanditwouldcavefasterthanmyniecewhenIaccuseherofstealingcookies.”
Still…“Maybeyoushoulddemothewall.”
Westurned,givinghisbacktotheroomfullofpeopleandblockingherfromsight.“Youwantedtogetdirty,Bethany.Leadyourownproject.That’swhywe’rehere.Nowthatit’stimetogetstartedyou’vegotstagefright?Shakeitoff.”
Easierfortherough-and-tumblecowboytosay.Nooneexpectedhimtogetthroughlifewithoutasinglemisstep.Peoplehadexpectationsforherandshecouldn’tsimplydisregardherneedtofulfillthem.“WhenImadethedecisiontodothis…I-Ididn’texpectsomanypeopletoseemedirty.”
“Lookhere,darlin’.You’retheonewhodecidedtocompetewithStephen.Thisreality-showbullshitisonyou.”
Heatwoveitswayupthebackofherneck.“Doesitreallyseemlikeagoodtimetoremindmeofthat?”
“Theperfecttime,actually,”hesaidwithouthesitation.“Itwon’thurttobealittlepissedwhenyouswingthathammer.”
Bethanytiltedherhead.“That’swhyyouriledmeup,isn’tit?”Shewaitedbuthesaidnothing.“YoudidthesamethingwhenIwasgettingemotionalatGeorgieandTravis’srehearsaldinner.IrritatedmeuntilIstoppedtearingup—”
“Iirritateyoubecauseit’sfun,”hesaid,chuckling.“Nootherreason.”
ShenarrowedhereyesatWes’soddtone.Heseemedalmostnervousoverherbelievingtherecouldbemoretothetimingofhisribbing.TherewasnotimetoanalyzeWes’sreactiontoodeeply,however,becausethedirectorwaswatchingthemimpatientlynearthewallthey’ddesignatedasthefirsttogo.“Okay,Bethany.Ourproductionscheduleistight.Let’smakethisagoodtake.”
Sledgehammerinhandandgogglesinplace,sheswallowedandsteppedintothebrightlyilluminatedspace.Throughtherefractedlens,shecouldseetwodozenpairsofeyesonher,thestillnessofthebodiesmakingherstomachflip-flop.Theywerewaiting.Watchingherdosomethingshehadn’tperfected.OhGod.Theywouldbewitnessingheremployuntestedskillsfortwoweeks.Theyweregoingtoknowshewasoutofherelement,afraud,startingnow.Shedidn’thaveentertainingskillsortheperfectoutfittofallbackon.Itwasjustherandahammer—andtwocamerascapturinghereverymove.
Whenthedirectorcoughed,sheturnedtofacethewallandorderedherarmstoliftthesledgehammer.Butnothinghappened.Herhandsstartedtoshakeonthewoodenhandle,hermouthlosingallmoisture.I’mgoingtobesick.
“Turnoffthecameras,”Wessaid.
“Excuseme?I’mnot—”
“Isaidturnthemoff.”Apresencewarmedherback.Wes.Hispalmskimmeddownherforearmandsettledonherhandwhereitgrippedthehandle.“Hey.”
“Hey,”shewhisperedback.
“What’swrong?”heaskedintoherhair.
Bethanycouldn’tcomeupwithalie.Itwasn’tmerelythewallthathadleftherstalledout—itwasthewholejob.Thewholehousethatsurroundedthemandwhatitmeant.Atestofhermettle.Abarriershewouldnormallyavoid,forfearshewouldrunintoitheadfirst.Itwasjustlikeherrelationshipswithmen.Assoonasherpastboyfriendsstartedtobecomesuspiciousthatshewasn’tMaryMakeItLookEffortless,thepersonashe’dsoldthem,shestartedpullingback.Dodgingcalls,cancelingdates,untiltheyburnedherbycheatingorbreakingupviaanimpersonaltext.
Itwasalmostareliefwhenthathappened.
Therewasnomorefearofbeingdiscovered.
Shecouldstartoveragainwithafreshslateandpretendlikethelastrelationshipneverhappened.Butahousewasdifferent.Itwasforever.Itwasvisibleproofofhereffortsandwhattheycouldyield.Itcouldn’tbeerasedbychangingherstatusonFacebookandpurgingahandfulofpictures.
“I’mreallyafraidtobebadatthis,”shesaidnow,theconfessionleavinghermouthunchecked.“Atanything.Itscaresme.Like,alot.”
“Great.Doitanyway.”
Shehuffedalaugh.
“Ifpeopleweregoodateverythingonthefirsttry,theywouldn’tappreciatethejourneytogettingbetter,”hemurmuredagainstherear,hisfingerstrailingbackandforthacrossherknuckles.“Whyareyoureallyhere?”
Shewetherlips.“BecauseIwanttoproveIcan…IwanttoknowifIcandomorethanmakethingspretty.I’mgettingtoocomfortablestayinginmylaneand…Inevergetasenseofaccomplishmentanymore.Everythingalwayscouldhavebeenbetter.Always.MaybeifIpushanddosomethingharder…I’llfeelitagain.”
Somehow,shecouldsensehisthoughtfulness.Itwasnicehavingsomeoneshoulderherinadequacyissuesforafewseconds.Eventhoughshewouldsurelyregrettellinghimthesepersonalthingsanytimenow.
“Bethany.”
“Yes?”
“Yourbrotherfucksupconstantly.”
Sheperkedup.“What?”
“Youheardme.Onourlastjob,hedidn’tmeasurethebathroomdoor’sswingcorrectly,soitsmackedoffthetoileteverytimeweopenedit.Samejob,hedamnnearelectrocutedhimselfputtinginthebasementtracklighting.Themanyelpedlikeapoodlewho’dgottenhistailsteppedon.Andhowmanyflipsdoyoureckonhe’sdone?”
“Atleastthirty.”
“Right.Stephenhasthemostexperienceoutofanyone,buthestillmessesup.Wewillmesssomethingup,baby,butanymistakeyoumakeonthishouseisonethatcanbecorrected,okay?”
Thepressureinherchestlessened,slowlybutsurely.Wasitinsanethatshe…believedhim?Hewassounflinching.Sosure.Hedidn’tseemthrownoffbyheradmissionsatall.“Okay.”
“Aimandswing.Hard.Letthesefolksgettheirshots,we’lldoourstupidinterviews,andthenit’lljustbeyou,me,andtwogeriatrics.”
Herlaughcaughtheroffguard,asdidthelooseninginhermiddle.He’ddoneitagain.Thinnedoutherworrieslikecookiedoughunderarollingpin.Themoreoftenithappened,thelessshebelievedhiscasualheroicswereamistake.Maybehewasjust…heroic.Onoccasion.“Thatsoundsgood.”
“Doesn’tit?”Hekissedhertemplesoquickly,shealmostthoughtitwasafigmentofherimagination.“Givethatwallhell,darlin’.”
“Canwerecordnow?”thedirectoraskeddrily,notwaitingforaresponse.“Andwe’rerollinginthree…two…one.”
Bethanyheavedthesledgehammerupontohershoulder,resteditasecond,thenusedeveryounceofforceinherbodytosmashthemetalintotheSheetrock.Itsplitwideopenanddebrisfleweverywhere,leavingagiantholebehind.AfewofthecrewmemberswhistledandWesboomedalaugh.Butshebarelyheardanyofitoverthewildapplauseinherownhead.Itmatchedthefast-pacedtempoofherheart.Itspedandspedlikeapropelleruntilsheworrieditmightcarryheraway.Insearchofananchor,sheturnedandfoundWesamongstthelighting.
Hewassmilingbroadlyatherwhensheturned,butwhateverhesawonherfacecausedittoslip,hisAdam’sapplerisingandfallinginhisthroat.Hisrecoverywasfarfrominstantaneous,butheeventuallygaveherajerkynod.
Therewasastrong—horriblyconceived—urgeinsidehertogotoWes,toseeifhe’dputhisarmsaroundher,butthankfullyshewasstayedbythesuddenputrescentsmellthatfilledtheroom
“Aw,shit,”calledoneofthePAs.“We’vegotadeadratinthewall.”
“We’lldotheinterviewsoutside.Someonegetaninterntobagtherat.”
Everyonegroanedandfiledoutoftheroom.
Bethanyfollowedtheflowofpeople,stilldraggingthesledgehammerbehindheruntilWestookitoutofherhandsandproppeditagainsthisshoulder.NotlookinglikeasexyPaulBunyanoranything.Definitelynot.
Justbeforesheexitedthroughthefrontdoor,Bethanyturnedandglancedbackatthehouse.She’dmadeoneholeinthewall.Onlyone.Butshewasn’tasapprehensiveasbeforetocommencetheflip—andshecouldn’tdenythatthemanwalkingbesideherscowlingatthecameramenhadalottodowithit.
Notgood.Notgoodatall.ChapterEleven
WeswatchedBethanyworkacrossthedebris-strewnfloor,woodandancientdrywalllitteringthespacebetweenthem.ThankstoRat-Gate,followedbythestartandstopofon-camerainterviewsthathadtakenoveranhouryesterday,theywerestillonlyhalfwayfinishedwithdemoonProjectDoomsday.
Bethanywasavoidinghim,asmuchasshecouldinaconfinedspacewheretheycouldheareachotherbreathing.Hesupposedhewasavoidingheralittle,too,notthathecouldstopdroolingoverherinthosedustypinkyogapants.Wherewasherpantyline?Wouldhebeabletoslidehishandsdownintothosetightlittlethingsandgetaholdofherbuttcheeks?Wouldshelikeit?
Trynottogetanerectionwhileoperatingheavydestructiveequipment,wouldyou,asshole?
Besides,hewasstillunnervedbythewayhishearthadshakenlikeamartiniwhenshe’dlaidintothatwallyesterday,thenturnedaroundwiththatuncheckedsmileonherbeautifulface.She’dlookedrighttohim,droppingthathappinessdirectlyintohislap—andthesubsequentsqueezebetweenhispecshadlandedlikeanattack.Ithadn’tgoneaway,either.Wasit…permanent?
Couldn’tbe.
Bethanygrabbedhisattentionwhenshemovedtothekitchen,attemptingtoprytileoffthewall.Whenshecouldn’tgetoneunstuckandwhackeditwithhercrowbarinfrustration,hesetdownhissledgehammer,fishedametalwedgeoutofhistoolbox,andjoinedher.“Here.”HeslidthetipofthetoolinbehindthetileandgesturedforBethanytohandhimthecrowbar,whichshedid.“Nowyoutapit.Likeso.”Thetilehitthefloor.“Thesucker’llpoprightoff.”
“Oh,uh.Thanks.”Sheacceptedthecrowbarbackandfollowedhisinstructionsonthenextone,smilingwhensheexecutedthemoveperfectly.“Ilikethat.It’sclean.”
Heleanedashoulderonthewall,bitingbackontheurgetobrushalayerofdustfromhernose.“Doyoulikeanythingmessy?”
Bethanynarrowedhereyesathimandhehelduphishandsininnocence,lettingherknowhewasn’ttryingtomaketheconversationdirty.Thoughheeasilycouldhave.Findhimatwenty-three-year-oldmanwhodidn’trelateeverythingbacktosex.
Hersuspicionsseemedtofadeandshepursedherlips.“IallowmybuntobeatadhaphazardonaSundaymorning.That’saboutit.”Shepoppedoffanothertileandgaveasatisfiedswingofherponytail.“Don’tyoulikeanythingneatandorderly?”
Damn,sheneverfailedtomakehimthink.Helikedit.Inthepast,womenwerejustanotherpartofhislifehedidn’thavetoconsidertoohard.Theywereeithercominghomewithhim,ortheyweren’t.Whatwastheretostressabout?
WithBethany,hecouldalmostseeherfilingawayeverypieceofinformationhedropped,sohewantedtosaytherightthing.Thehonestthing.Notsimplywhatevershewantedtohear.Shewastoosmartforthat,anyway.
“IdustmycowboyhatoffeverynightandI,uh…”Unbelievable.Hecouldfeelthetipsofhisgoddamnearsturningred.“Istoreitinmyclosetinahatbox.”
“Youdo?”Hereyesturneddistant,likeshewastryingtopicturehimcompletingthenightlyritual.“Whatdoestheboxlooklike?Istheretissuepaper?”
“Hell,no,thereisn’tanytissuepaper.”Helaughed,scratchingthesideofhischin.“Theremightbesomeshreddednewspaper.”
Hergaspturnedintoagiggle.“That’snotevenremotelydifferent.”
Oh,hey.She’dnevermadethatsoundbefore.Itwasadorableandfeminineandhe’dletherwatchhimdustthehatoffifshemadethatnoiseagain.“Yes,itis.It’sentirelydifferent,”hemanagedfinally.“AndJesus,lookatyou.Turnedonbytheideaofproperhatstorage.”
Hewatchedherstrugglethroughsubduingheramusementandrealizedtherewasasmilestretchingitswayacrosshisface.Hotdamn.Theywereflirtingwithoutitdevolvingintoaname-callingcompetition,andthereliefofthat,knowingtheycouldmanagethatfeat,wasenormous.
“Listen,”shesaid.“IdothesamethingwithmyLouboutins.”
Hissmiledropped.“JesusChrist.Nowyou’vegoneandcomparedmymanlyhattoaladyshoe.”
Sheburiedherfaceinthecrookofherelbow,hershouldersshakingwithmirth.Inthatmoment,hecouldpicturehimselfticklingher,maybetakingaplayfulbiteoutofherneck.Boyfriend-girlfriendbehavior.
ItbroughtWesupshort.Hedefinitelydidn’twantpermanent.Settlingdownandwalkingonestraightpathfortherestofhislifedidn’tappealtohim.Healwaysneededtobereadytomoveon,sohewouldn’tbecaughtflounderingwhenthemomentarrived.Quick,painless,easy.That’showhelived.
Amanwhogrewtoocomfortableandlefthimselfnoescapehatcheseventuallyendedupstranded.Acoupleoftimesgrowingup,he’dlethimselfgetcomfortablewithafosterfamily,onlytofindoutthey’dnevergottencomfortablewithhim.They’dbeenanglingtosteerclearofhimthewholetime.
Noonehadeverneededhim.
Noone,exceptforhishalfsister.She’dreliedonhimtogetheroutoftroublesomanytimesithadbecomedraining,disappointing,buthecouldn’thelpansweringthecall.Asmallpartofhimwantedtobedependedon.Evenbysomeonewhodidn’tappreciateitor,hell,eventhankhimmostofthetime.
Bethanycertainlydidn’tneedhim.Sureshe’dhadacoupleofweakmoments,butifhewasn’taround,she’dsimplygetencouragementfromherlocalsupportgroup.He’dmerelybeenhandy.Withinreachingdistance.
No,hedefinitelydidn’thaveanynotionsofstayinginPortJefferson.Still,everytimeBethanyglancedoverandtheireyeslocked,hisstomachwrappeditselfaroundhisfuckingspleen.Yeah,itwassafetosayhispreoccupationwithherwentfarbeyondtheaverage,casualhookup.Theword“hookup”wasn’tevenworthyofbeingmentionedinthesamebreathasBethany—andthatbecamemoreandmoretrueeverytimeshemadeWesprivytoherthoughts.
Inevergetasenseofaccomplishmentanymore.MaybeifIpushanddosomethingharder…I’llfeelitagain.
WesalwaysknewtherewereseveralleaguesbelowBethany’ssurface,butshekeptsurprisinghimwithanotherone.Hissenseofself-preservationtoldhimtostoptryingtolocateheroceanfloor,butthismorninguponarrivingatthehouse,he’dfoundhimselfvowingtoaidherinfindingthatfeeling.Accomplishment.Hewantedtohelpgivethatsatisfactiontohersogoddamnbad.
Probablysensinghisstare,Bethanylookedupfromhertaskofpryingoffaskirtingboardwiththecrowbar.“Um,hey,”shesaid.“How’sitgoingoverthere?”
“It’sgoing.Howaboutyou?”
“Themessiskillingme.”
“Figureditmightbe.”Hepressedhistonguetotheinsideofhischeektosubdueasmile.“Itmaynotlooklikeprogress,butitis.”
“Progressneedsascentedcandleandadustpan.”Bethanypaused,lookinglikeshehadsomethingelsetosay,butagruntturnedbothoftheirheadstofindCarlwipingsweatoffhisforeheadwitharagandpassingittoOllie.
“Mysciaticaisonthefritz,”Olliecomplained,leaninghissideagainstthewall.“Hurtslikehell.”
“Mylegisstillswelledupfromyesterday,”Carlsaid.
“Allyoudidyesterdaywaswipeoutthecraftservicetable,”Wespointedout.
Carlsnorted.“Iwasn’tpassingupthoselittlerolled-upcoldcuts.Mywifemadeusgovegan.Cutoutmysugarandcoffee,too.Ifyouthoughtshewasmiserablebefore,youshouldseehernow.”
“Whycan’ttheyjustletusberetired?”Ollieintoned,staringoffintospace.“It’sliketheywerewaitingforustofinallyrelaxtostartunleashinghell.”
“Minedidrunmeabathyesterday,”Carlsaid.“Helpedmylegsome.”
Ollieelbowedhim,lookinglikeacatwithacanary.“Igotamassage.”
Theirsighsfadedintogroans,bothmenrubbingattheirrespectiveinjuries.“Damn,thathurts,”Carlmoaned.
“IthinkIpinchedanerve,”Olliesaid.
“Areyousureyouguysareupforthisjob?”Bethanyasked.
“What?”Carlcalled.“We’rehavingagreattime.”
Olliesnorted.“BesttwodaysI’vehadinyears.”
SheshookherheadatWes,buttherewasasmileplayingaroundhermouth.Onethatmadethepadofhisthumbitchtosmoothoverherlowerlip.Maybeheshouldaskherout.Nothingthatwouldspookher.Justalast-minute-drink-between-coworkerskindofthing.LordknewhewentdrinkingwithStephen,Travis,andDominicdownatGrumpyTom’softenenough.Thiswouldn’tbeanydifferent.
Atleastthat’showhe’dpresentit.
Wesclearedhisthroathard.“Listen,Bethany—”
Hisphonerangnoisilyinhispocket.Withamentalcurse,heslippedoffhisworkinggloveandtookitout.FadedCalfTattoowascallinghim.Shewashisbabysitterforthatafternoon,whichmeantshewouldpickupLaurafromschool,bringherhome,andwatchherforthetwohoursthatremainedofWes’sworkday.
“Hello?”
“Oh,hello,Wes.”Hervoicewobbledwithworry.“I’msosorrytodothistoyou,butIcan’twatchLauratoday.MysisterishavinganemergencyoperationandI’malreadyonmywaytoNewJerseytobewithher.”
“I’msorrytohearthat.Ihopeit’snotserious.”
“Oh,she’slivedthroughthreedirtbaghusbands,soIdoubtagallbladderisgoingtotakeherdownnow.Butshe’llneedsomecoddling.”
Weschuckled.Dangit,hewasreallystartingtogrowfondofthesebabysitters.“LetmeknowifIcandoanythingforyou.”
“Willdo.Sorryagain.”
“Don’tbe.Seeyousoon.”
Hehungupandcheckedtheclockonhisphone.Toolatetocallforareplacement,andevenifitwasn’t,hedidn’tlikebeingabother,especiallywhenthesewomenwerealreadydoingenough.Toomuchtobesentrunningtotheschoolatthelastminuteontheirdayoff.Itwouldhavetobehim.
“Thatdidn’tsoundgood,”Bethanysaid,havingcomecloserduringhisconversation.“What’swrong?”
Ittookhimasecondtocollecthisthoughts,thankstothecutesmudgeofdirtonhernose.“I’msorry,butIhavetoknockoffearlytopickupLaurafromschool.Marjoriehadafamilyemergency.”
“Oh.Sure.”Shetriedtohideherpanic,butdidn’tquitesucceed.“Sure,ofcourse.Youhavetogo.”
“I’llmakeupforlosttimetomorrow.”
Hershouldersrelaxedbyapproximatelyonedegree.“Wewill.”
“Right.”
“Wereyougoingtoaskmesomething?”
Yeah.Outforafriendlydrink,whenhereallywantedtokisshersenseless.Righthereandnow,theiraudienceoftwobedamned.Shewaslookingathimdifferentlytoday,hereyesmorecuriousthandisdainful.Afterthatdayshe’dstormedthejobsiteandhe’dunexpectedlyseenbelowhersurface,he’dstartedwishingshe’dchangeherattitudetowardhim.Nowthatshehad,rightontheheelsofhimacknowledgingthetemptationtotryandbemoretoher,somethinginsidehimscreamedtolightenthemoment.Whetheritwasoutoffearoftheunfamiliarorsimplynotknowinghowtobearoundsomeoneheneeded—howcouldhewhenhe’dneverexperienceditbefore?—Wesgaveheraslowonce-overandspokeforherearsalone.
“Whydon’tyougivemesomemotivationandtellmeyou’regoingtowearthoseextra-thinpinkpantsagaintomorrow,darlin’?”
Shecrackedadisbelievinglaugh.“Wearthesamepantstwodaysinarow?”
Wesfoughtalaugh.“That’sthepartyoutookoffenseto?”
“I-I…no.”Herfacecolored.“I’llwearthepinkpantsifyouwearyourfleacollar.”
“FirstyoutalkaboutpeggingandnowI’mwearingacollar.”Herockedbackonhisheels.“Theplotthickens.”
“It’llneverbeasthickasyourskull.”Shedismissedhimwithasniff,crunchingthroughconstructionrubbleonherwaytoherpost.“Gohome.”
“Seeyoutomorrow,Bethany.”
“IfonlyIhadachoice,Wes,”shesangsweetly.
HisencounterswithBethanyusedtoleavehimfeelingchargedup.Ifnotsatisfied,he’ddamnwellgottenpleasureoutofit.Whiletherewasadefinitesparkinhisbellyaftertheirexchange,itnowfeltunfinished.Theirbarbsweresupposedtoleadsomewhere,weren’tthey?Yeah.Andhewantedtogothere.Crazyenough,hewasn’tsuretherewasjustsex.Insteadofwalkingawayandleavingherfrowning,hewantedtokeepgoinguntilitbecameagrudgingsmile.
Thatwouldsatisfyhimalmostasmuchassex.
Jesus.Whatthehellwaswrongwithhim?
WesfeltBethany’squestioninggazeonhisbackasheleftthehouse.Hegotintohistruckanddrovetotheschool,arrivinginthepick-uplinejustintimeforLauratobeginherjourneydownthewalkway.Hehadn’tpickedherupmanytimesthisyear,butbasedonhercomplaintsthatshedidn’thaveanyfriends,Wesdidn’texpecthertobeflankedbytwogirlsherage.Theywerelostinananimatedconversationcompletewithhandsignalsandgiggles,whilehisnieceappearedtobefloatingoncloudninebetweenthem.
Heloweredthepassenger-sidewindowattheexactmomentLauradidherScooby-Dooimpression,makingtheothergirlslaugh,andanoddsoundpuffedoutofhim.
Lauraspottedhimidlingatthecurbandwavedenthusiastically.
Warmthspreaddownwardfromhiscollarbone.“Hey,kid,”hecalled.“Hopin.”
“Wait.UncleWes,UncleWes,canMeganandDaniellecomeover?”Hisnieceliterallyshriekedthequestionathimfromfifteenyardsaway.“Please?Iftheirmomsaysit’sallright?Please?”
No.Noway.He’djustfiguredouthowtobepassablydecentattakingcareofLaura.Throwingtwomorechildrenintothemixcouldbedisastrous.Hesearchedforadistraction.Distractionsalwaysworked.“Maybenottoday.IwasplanningonrentingTangledforus—”
“IloveTangled,”DanielleorMegansquealed.“Iwanttowatchit,too.”
Rookiemove,idiot.“I’msuretheirmotherhasplans—”
Awoman’sfacefilledhispassengerwindow.“Hi,I’mJudy.DanielleandMegan’smom.You’reWes,right?Laura’suncle?”
Shestuckoutherhandforashake.Hehelduphisgrimyoneapologetically.“Sorry,Ijustcamefromaconstructionsite.Mightwanttosteerclear.”
Judy’sexpressionwasamused,butmostlydistracted.“So,you’retakingthegirlstoday?”
“Oh.”Hescratchedathisfiveo’clockshadow.“I…AmI?”
“Idon’tthinkthesesassyladiesaregoingtotakenoforananswer!”Whatstartedoffasajoviallaughturneddark,Judy’sexpressionbecominginfinitelymoreintense.Sheleanedintohistruck,knucklesturningwhiteontheframe.“Please,takethem.Evenifit’sjustanhour.”
Wesforcedhimselfnottojerkback.“Thinktheycanallfitinmytruck?”
“We’llmakethemfit.”Hersmilereturned,brighterthanever.“Girls,”shecalledoverhershoulder.“Goodnews.Laura’suncleistakingyouforafewhours.”
“Wait.Afew?”
Ignoringhim,Judypriedopenthepassengerdoorandusheredthecelebratinggirlsintothecab,throwingoneseatbeltaroundallthreeofthem.“Pickyouupafterdinner.”
Dinner?
ShelookedacrossatWes.“Mycellnumberisontheclasscontactlist,ifyouneedanything—alongwithyours.Yougotthatemail,right?”saidJudy,closingthedoorwithoutwaitingforaresponse.Throughtheglass,shecalled,“Byenow!”
Wespulledawayfromthecurbinastateofshockandstayedparkedataredlightuntilitturnedgreenandthepersonbehindhimlaidonthehorn.ApeekintherearviewtoldhimitwasJudy.Tohisright,thethreegirlsweresingingasongaboutrainingtacosatthetopoftheirlungs.Whatthehellwashesupposedtodowiththem?
Nothing.Hehadtobringthemhome.Hedidnotsignupforthis.
Hewasn’tadad.Hewasadrifter,aformerorphan,amanwithoutties,andthat’showhelikedit.That’showithadalwaysbeen.
WeswasonthevergeofaskingDanielleorMeganfortheiraddresssohecoulddropthemoff,buthisniececaughthiseye.Itwasobviousshewasreadinghismindandknewhewasalreadythrowinginthetowel.Hereyespleadedwithhimsilentlytoreconsiderandsomethingunfurledinthecenterofhischest.Somethingthathadbeenwrappeduptightforaslongashecouldremember.He’dkeptthisboxsealedshutforsafety’ssake,buthisniececlimbedinsideandmadeherselfathome.
Beforeheregisteredtheturnsandavenues,Wesfoundhimselfonhisporch,unlockingthedoorandmakingwayforthreetinypeopletoboundinside.WhilethenewbiessprintedtowardLaura’sbedroom,hisniecestoppedandputherarmsaroundhiswaist,squeezingwithallhermight.
“Idon’tknowwhathappened,butIthinkIhavefriendsnowandtheywantedtocomeoverandwhatarewegoingtodo,UncleWes?”
“You’reaskingme?”
“Please!Ihavefriends!”
SheranafterherpalsbeforehecouldaskwhatonGod’sgreenearthshewantedfromhim.“Please,what?”hemutteredunderhisbreath,goingtothefridgeandstartingtotakeoutabeerbeforestoppinghimself.Withoutoverthinkingtoomuch,hepulledouthiscellandcalledBethany.Becauseitfeltright.
Sheansweredonthesecondring,hertoneindicatingshewasstillsoreoverhisrequestthatshewearthepinkpantstomorrow.“Yes?”
“Istheadultsupervisionallowedtohaveabeerwhilehostingaplaydate?”
“HowshouldIknow?”Therewassomebackgroundshuffling.“Areyouinchargeofmultiplechildrenrightnow?”
“Itallhappenedsofast.”
Acouplesecondstickedby.Whatthehellhadhebeenthinkingcallingher?Hehadn’treliedonanyoneelsetosolveevenhismostinsignificantproblemssincehewasachild.Ifthiswasn’tdangerousproofthathe’dstartedtoaskhimselfwhatif,hedidn’tknowwhatwas.“Whyareyoucallingme?”sheasked.
“TofindoutifIcanhaveabeer,”heanswered,strivinglikehelltomakethecallcasual,insteadoflettinghimselfneedher.“Listen,nevermind—”
“Myfatherdrankduringourplaydates,”sheblurted.“Pouritintoamugandpopinabreathmintbeforetheirparentsshowup.”Amomentpassed.“You’regoingtodofine.EasilybetterthanIcould.”
Thereshewentagain.Hintingatherowninsecuritiesandmakingitimpossiblenottobeonehundredpercenthonest.Wesstaredhardatthereflectivesurfaceoftherefrigerator.“Laurahasbeenkindofdownlately,sayingshedoesn’thaveanyfriends.Which…IguessIbrusheditoffbecauseofcourseshemusthavethem.She’scoolandfunny,right?ButIthinkthisiskindofimportantandIdon’tknowhowtocomethroughforher.”Heturnedandleanedbackagainsttheappliance.“Wedon’thavealotoftoys.Idon’tevenknowifthey’restillyoungenoughtoplaywithtoys.”
“IplayedwithmyBarbiesuntilIwasnine.”
“Comeover.”Therequestwasoutbeforehecouldlassoit,buthe’dpicturedBethanythrowingfancydinnerpartieswithdollsandhe’djust…wantedtoseeher.Wantedherthere.“Imean,comeover?”
Silence.Then,“Imean…Iguesstwopartiallyineptgrown-upsequalonedecentadult.”
Wespushedoffthefridge.“You’llcome?”
“Itwouldn’tbeabigdeal,”Bethanysaidquickly.
“No,definitelynot.Notabigdeal.”
Itwasahugedeal.He’daskedforhelpandhewasgettingit.
Relyingonsomeoneelsewhoseemedtohavethepowertomakehimhappy,horny,frustrated,introspective,orpissedashell.He’dkickedtherodeogateopen.
“I’dbedoingittohelpoutLaura,ofcourse.Soshecanmakeagoodimpressiononhernewfriends.”
“Ofcourse.”
“Doyouhavesnacks?”
Westurnedonadimeandstartedtorummagethroughhiscabinets.“Somestalepretzelgoldfish…”
“Keeplooking.”
Hislipsquirkedup.“Abagofmicrowavepopcorn.”
“Bingo.Firethatupandgivethemjuiceboxes.”
Helistenedtoherfootstepsontheotherendofthephoneandpicturedhergorgeousasstwitchingthroughtheconstructionzone.Didhereallyaskhertowearthosepinkthingsagaintomorrow?Whenthecameraswouldbebackwithallthatlightingandzoomability?“Ichangedmymindaboutthepants.Burnthem.”
“I’mstillexpectingthefleacollar.”Heheardadoorclose.“I’lljustswingbymyhousetogetoutoftheseclothes—”
“Byallmeans,getoutofthemhere.”
“I’mnotcomingoverifyou’regoingtoactlikeapervert.”
“It’soutofmysystemnow.Promise.”
“Good.I’mhangingupnow.”
“Bethany?”
“What?”
“Thanks.”
Abeatpassed.“It’sforLaura.”
“Ofcourse.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”ChapterTwelve
Bethanykickedoffhernastyworkbootsontheporchandstumbledintoherhouse,alreadystrippingoffhersmellyT-shirtandyogapants.Shestartedtoleavetheminaheapintheentryway,onlymakingittwostepsbeforegoingback,gatheringthemup,andputtingthemneatlyinthelaundrybasket.
“Whatareyouthinking?”shewhisperedtoherselfonthewayupthestairs.Bythetimeshefinishedscrubbinghergrimyskinandrinsingoff,afullfiveminuteshadpassedandshestillhadn’tansweredherownquestion.AlreadyshewasspendingentirelytoomuchtimewithWes;nowshewasgoingovertohelphimbabysit?Multiplekids?Whatsheknewaboutchildrencouldfitinsideofashotglass.Sheknewevenlessaboutthemthansheknewaboutrenovatingahouse.Whathadpossessedhertotakebothofthesenewchallengesoninthesameweek?
Carefulnottosliponthetilefloor,Bethanywrappedatowelaroundherbodyandstoodinfrontofthebathroommirror.Notimetofixherhairandthatwasashame.Clean,straightenedhairalwaysboostedherconfidence.Hershotglassofchildrenknowledgeconsistedofonefact—theypreyedontheweak.Shecouldrememberherowngleeasathirdgraderwhenasubstituteteacherwaltzedin,thinkingtheyweregoingtofollowthelessonplan.Sorry,sucker.Nottoday.
Nowshewasgoingtobethesucker.
She’dvolunteeredtobeone.
“Okay,okay,”shebreathed,moisturizingquicklyandapplyingthebarestlayeroffoundation,followedbyaswipeofmascara.“Youentertaindozensofwomeneveryweek.Youcanhandlesomekindergartners.”
Itwastrue,shedidentertaintheJustUsLeaguememberseverySaturdaynight,butsheonlymadeitlookeasywhenintruthshewasoverthinkingeverywordoutofhermouth,analyzingherfriends’commentstodeath,lookingforsomeprooftheywereawareofherflaws.Shelovedtheclub.Lovedthespiritandhonestyandthewomen.Butsomepartofherhadalwaysseenitastemporary.Howlongcouldshemakethembelieveshewasgracefulandfunnyanddazzlinglycarefree?Whathappenedwhentheystartedtoseethroughher?
Notwantingtoexaminethosefearstoodeeply,Bethanyhungupthetowel,hunkeringdowntomakesurethecornerslinedup,thenmarchedthroughherbedroomtothecloset.Onthedrivehome,she’dmentallysetasideanoutfitandshereachedfortheruffleddenimrompernow,puttingitonandthenslidingherfeetintoapairofpointedwhiteflats.Sheranabrushthroughherhairandputitbackinahighponytailand,afterstoppingatthefridgetograbaslabofleftoverweddingcake,thensailedoutofthehousewithfarmoreconfidencethanshefelt.
Inamatterofminutes,shewaspullingintoWes’sdriveway,parkingbehindhistruck.“Youcandothis,”shesaidbrightlytoherreflection.“Youcanhelpbabysitthreelittlegirlsandleavethemnonethewiserthatyou’reashockingmess.”
Cakeinhand,sheclimbedthestepstoWes’sfrontdoor.
She’dbarelyraisedherhandtoknockwhenitflewopen.
“Whattookyousolong?They’redowntokernels,woman.”
Shecameveryclosetosmashingthecakeinhisface.Andseriously,whydidherbrainforcehertoregisterhowsexyhelookedevenwhenhismouthwaslettingoutrudeshit?Hehadn’tevenbotheredtochange,stilldeckedoutinhisworksitefinest,hairmussedwithdust,T-shirtwrinkledwithdrysweatandplasterflakes.Whenheleanedaforearmonthedoorjambandmadeasoundofapprovalwhilelookingherover,toptobottom,sherefusedtoacknowledgethesliveroftightstomachrevealedbyhiselevatedT-shirt.
Orthefactthatshe’dgonehometochangejustsohe’dlookatherlikethis.
Dammit,though.Shehad,hadn’tshe?
SomeonereallyneededtooverthrowherasleaderoftheJustUsLeague.Shewasatotalfraud.ItwasjustthatnoonehadeverseenherinthestatesofdishevelmenttowhichWeshadbornewitness.He’dhadtheaudacitytoseeherangry,crying,rackedwithstress,dirty.Theutternerveofhim.Wasitsomuchtoaskthatshebeallowedtocastherusualspellforoneafternoon?
“Stepaside,cowboy.Ibroughtcake.”
“AndhereIthoughtyouweredessert.”
Sheheldupasinglefinger.“Yougetonepass.Thatwasit.”
Hissmileflashedwhiteinhisstubbledfaceandforafew,valuableseconds,shealmostforgothewastwenty-damn-three.“I’vebeensuitablywarned.”Hepushedthedooropenwiderandeasedoutofherway.“Isthatweddingcake?”
“Yes.”Shestoppedshortintheentryway,herfingersdancingovertheplasticwrap.“Didyou…likethecakeatthewedding?”
Hecrossedhisarmsoverhisbigchest.“NevermetoneIdidn’tlike.”
Shehummed.“Andwhataboutthefood?”
“BeforeImovedtoPortJeff,IwasexistingonSubwayandwhiskey.”
“Well,thatwaspredictablyunhelpful,”shemuttered,startingtowalkaway.
“Holdup.”Wesceasedhermovementsbywrappingawarmhandaroundherelbow.“Someonesaytheydidn’tlikethefood?”
Herstomachpitched.“Didsomeonesaythattoyou?”
“No.Thefoodwasgreat.Myfive-year-oldhadtoremindmeit’srudetotakehomeshrimpinmypockets.”Hestumbledoverthelastword,frowningtohimself.“Imean,notmyfive-year-old—”
“Iknowwhatyoumean,”shebreathedsoftly,alarmedbythescratchinherthroat.“So,um…youlikedit,then?Therewassomuchleftover…”
Heraisedabrow.“Andyou’vebeenworriedallthistimetheguestshatedthefood.Foodyoudidn’tevencook?”
“Iarrangedit.”
“DidImentiontheopenbar?”
“Okay,you’vemadeyourpoint.”Sheturnedandstruttedintothelivingspace,alltooawarethatshedefinitelyfeltbetterabouttheleftoverweddingfood.Like,completelybetter.Absolved.SomuchsothatshewasbreathingeasierthanshehadsinceSundaynight.“Wherearethegirls?”
“ELSA!”
Threelittlegirlsbarreledintothelivingroomfromthehallwayandproceededtojumpupanddowninfrontofher.Expectantly.“Oh,um.Ihavecake,”sherasped,apprehensionstartingtosneakintoherbelly.
“Cakeandpopcorn!Don’ttellourmom.”
“Yoursecretissafe,”Bethanysaidquickly,searchinghermemorybankforsomehintastowhatfive-year-oldswereinto.Wait.Rewind.Thereitwas.Inspirationhadstruckandnotamomenttoosoon.LaurawaslookingupatherwithbigroundeyesasifBethanyheldthesecretstopre-pre-pre-teenhappiness.“And…youknow,thebestwaytoeatcakeiswithtea.”
Allthreechildrengrewverystillandunnervinglyquiet.
Hadsheflubbedit?
Sheadjustedtheplasticwrap,eventhoughitwasperfect.Notasinglebubbleoroverlap.“T-teaparty?”
Aneruptionofhappy,ear-splittingshriekssentBethanybackastep,herrelieffollowedbyalaugh.ShebitherbottomliptokeephersmilefromdominatingherwholefaceandmetWes’sgazewherehestoodinthekitchen,acoffeemugpoisedhalfwaytohismouth.Andoh.Justohhh.Hedidn’thidethewayhewaslookingatherfastenoughandBethanyknewshe’dwakeuptonightthinkingaboutthemixtureofadmiration,gratitude,andpure,bottomlesslonginginhiseyes.
Herbodyreactedlikeshewassittingonadryerduringthespincycle,heatingandtighteninginkindofanembarrassingwaythatdefinitelywasn’tappropriateforachildren’steaparty.“Well,”shemanaged.“Youneedguests,don’tyou?GoroundupsomedollsorstuffedanimalsandI’llsetupthetable.”
Theymoveddownthehallinacommotionofflailinglimbs,speakingoveroneanother.Bethanycrossedtothekitchentableandsetdownthecake,tuckingaloosehairbackintoherponytail.
“Shedoeshavesomestuffedanimals,right?”BethanywhisperedtoWes,whonoddedslowlywhilesippingfromhismug,eyessteadyonherovertherim.“Good.”
“WhatIdon’thaveistea.I’mguessingthat’smandatoryforateaparty.”
Bethanywinced.“Wholivesnextdoor?”
“TheSantangelos.”
“Ah!Theywenttoschoolwithmyparents.I’llberightback.”
Fiveminuteslater,afterpersuadingMrs.Santangelointogivingthemanassortmentofdecaftea,Bethanyreenteredthehousetofindthegirlsarrangingteddybearsandafamilyofstuffedpenguinsaroundthetable,talkinganimatedly.WhileWescontinuedtohideinthedeeprecessesofthekitchen.
“Youlookterrified.Gositdown.”
Weshesitated.“I’veseenthismovie.AssoonasIpullmychairout,oneofthemisgoingtoaskwherebabiescomefrom.”
Asnort-laughflewoutofBethanywithoutwarningandshesmackedahandoverhermouth,toolatetostopthecringeworthysound.“Pretendyoudidn’thearthat,”shesaidbriskly,droppingherhandaway.
“Why?Ilikedit.”
“YoulovewhenIgiveyounewreasonstomakefunofme.”
WesdippedhischinandgaveheralookthatsaidOh,comeon.“Allright,let’sclearthisupnow,sinceyou’reheresavingmybiscuit.”Hecrossedthekitcheninherdirection.“AmIactuallymakingfunofyou,Bethany?OramIjustrilingyouupbecauseit’stheonlywayyou’llgivemethetimeofday?”
Hisquestionthwartedherconcentration,andshepausedinthemiddleofsearchingforateakettleinthepantry,finallyspyingoneneartheback.“What?That’snottrue.”
“Itis.Youdecidedyouwantednothingtodowithmethefirsttimewemet.”
Shefrownedwhileputtingthekettleunderthesinktapandturningonthewater.“Youtriedtorungameonmeinfrontofmybrother.”
“Idid,didn’tI?”Hegaveheraslowwink.“ReckonIcouldn’thelpit.”
Bethanyignoredtheweightthatcontinuedtosinklowerandlowerinherbelly.“Yes,you’refallingalloveryourselftosleepwithawomanyoufindsoancientyoucan’tevencomprehendhermoviereferences.”Shemovedtothestoveandsituatedthekettleoveraburner.“That’sprobablywhywhenyouhitonme,itfeelslikeatrap.”
Weswassilentsolong,shehadtolookovertomakesurehehadn’tlefttheroom.Butno,therehewas,frowningatherfromtheshadows.“Atrap?”hesaid,finally,hisvoicehard.“Explainthat.”
Therewasanervousflutterinherthroatshecouldn’texplain.“Idon’tknow.Whyarewetalkingaboutthis?”
“Becauseweare.”
Sherolledhereyes.“Iguessitfeelslike…whenyoupropositionme,it’sjustanotherwayofpokingfun.Atme.Okay?Fine,you’reattractedtome,butmaybeit’sjustthechasemakingyouthatway.You’veonlypointedouthowmuchfreakingolderIamninehundredtimes,soyoudon’treally…wantmelikethat.”Withahardswallow,sheremovedthelukewarmwaterfromovertheflame.“You’rewaitingformetoacceptsoyoucanhavetheultimatelaughatthisoldwitch’sexpense.Iactuallyadmirethislonggameyou’replaying.”
Hewasstaringatherlikeshe’djustrisenfromthefloorinaplumeofsmoke.“JesusChrist,youreallybelievethatbullshit,don’tyou?”
Yes.Untilthatverysecond,Bethanydidn’trealizehowdeepshe’dshovedtheinsecuritiesregardingtheiragedifference.Couldanyoneblameherforthinkinghisintentionstowardherwerelessthansincere?Everymanshe’deverdatedhadbeenaflatterer.Complimentswereanindicationthatamanwantedtosleepwithawoman,wasn’tit?Notoutrightvitriol,likethekindshesharedwithWes.Ifthereweresomelinesshewassupposedtoreadbetween,shedidn’thavetherightdecoderring—andthatwasaChristmasStoryreferencehewouldprobablylaughatherover.
Bethanystartedopeningcabinets.“Couldyouhelpmesetthetable?Ineedplates,cups,napkins—”
“Imadeamistake.”
“What?”
Hetookherwristsandturnedhertofacehim.“Hey,Imadeamistake.”Hischestroseandfell.“Ishouldhaveleftouragedifferencealone.”
Bethanylookedeverywherebutathim,becausehisintensitywasdoingweirdthingstohermidsection.“Wes.You’remakingabigdealoutofnothing.”
“Outofnothing?You’vebeendoubtinghowIfeelaboutyouthiswholetime—”
“Howyoufeelaboutme?”Inarushofpanic,shetriedtopryherwristsfree,butheheldon.“Backthetruckup.”
Heclosedhiseyes,appearingtocounttoten.“Fine.I’llbackup.You’vebeendoubtinghowbadIwantyoubecauseImadesomestupidjokes.”
“I…”Sheattemptedacasuallaugh.“Iguess?Sure.”
“How?”Hewasvisiblybewildered.“Bethany,youknowyou’reafuckingmasterpiece,right?”
Herlegsturnedtogelatin,aforeignemotionswellinginsideher.Abig,heavyfeelingwithuntappedpower.“I…um.Um.”
Wesletgoofherwristsandfellbackastep.“MyGod,youdon’t,”hesaiddazedly.“Youdon’tknow.”
Bethany’shandsremainedsuspendedinmidair,alotlikethebreathinherlungsthatrefusedtocomeinorout.Partofherwantedtorunfromthekitchen,buttheotherpartkeptherplanted.InfrontofWes.Youknowyou’reafuckingmasterpiece,right?Hecouldn’treallymeanthat,couldhe?Shewasatherworstinfrontofhim.Thishadtobeasimplecaseoflustingforsomethinghecouldn’thave.
Yes.Obviously.Hewasagorgeousmanwho’dbeencontinuallyturneddownbyawoman.Gettinghertocavemightbenothingmorethanapointofpride.
Westurnedheruntilhecouldpressheragainstthecounter…andhernoodlelegswentfromaldentetolimp.“Don’tkissme,”shewhispered.
Hissighwarmedhermouth.“Ihaveto,baby.You’reridiculous.”
“Andthatmakesyouwanttokissme?”
Blueeyessearchedhers.“Idon’tunderstandit,either.Justknowonceyou’vegotmytongueinyourmouth,you’regoingtofeelmylackoffucksthatyou’rethirtyandI’mtwenty-three.Thosesevenyearsdon’tmeanadamnthingtome…”Hetrailedhisopenlipsalongherjaw.“Ifanything,they’llmakeusmoanalittlelouder,won’tthey,darlin’?”
Theirmouthsweresoclose,hisbreathwasleavingthemostdeliciouscondensationonherlips.OhGod.Thiswasit,hewasgoingtokissher.Righthere,rightnow.Shewasn’tgoingtobeabletohidebehindsharpwordsorsnappycomebackswithhermouthoccupiedandshitshitshitthiswasgoingtobebad.He’dknowbythetimethiskisswasoverthatheaffectedher.Physically…andmore.Dammit,therewasmore,wasn’tthere?
Howwasshesupposedtobearoundhimandlikehimatthesametime?
Ughhhhhhhh.
“Elsa!”
“UncleWes!Elsa!Canwehaveourteapartynow?”
Recordscratch.
Hepushedhisfaceintothecurveofherneck,latchingontoapatchofsensitivefleshwithhisteeth,groaninginawaythatsentathrillscreamingdowntohertoes.“Godhelpme,Iwon’tsurvivetheseblueballs.”
Laughtershiveredthroughher,butshewastoostupefiedbythestateofherbodyandthethingshe’dsaidtorespond.
“Youthinkit’sfunny?Icomehomeonmylunchbreakswhileshe’sinschoolandsometimesIjustsitinthequiet,staringatthewall.”Hemadeapainedsound,dippinghismouthtothehollowofherneckandlicking,allthewayaroundtoherearlobe.“That’salie.Ithinkaboutyou.”
“Wes.”
“Youthinkaboutme,too.”
Hernodwassubtleandgrudgingandshecouldn’ttakeitback.AnotherimpatientpleafromthediningroomhadherslidingoutfromunderneathWes’srigidbody.“RemindmewhatIwasdoing.”
Hegroundtheheelofhishandintooneeye.“Plates,cups…”
“Forks.Tea.Okay.”
Theybothtookfortifyingbreaths,thenbrokefortheteaparty.
Ohmama.
Assoonasthisteapartyended,sheneededtogettheheckoutofDodge.
Whatwasthatsayingaboutthebest-laidplans?ChapterThirteen
FromhisreclinedpositioninabeanbagchairinthecornerofLaura’sbedroom,WeswatchedBethanypauseinthedoorway.Hisintentionhadbeentoobservetheteapartyfromthesafetyofthekitchen,butdamn,washeevergladhe’dletLauradraghimtoherbedroomtoawaitBethany’sofficialescorttothediningroomtable—andthus,thestartofthegame.
Shesweptinwithanairofdrama,pausingforseveralbeatswithoutsayingaword,heighteningtheanticipation.“Attention!Attention,please,”shecalledtothethreelittlegirlswhowerealreadysquealingandessentiallylosingtheirminds,simplybecauseBethanywastakingtheirmake-believeseriously,Britishaccentandall.“MayIspeaktotheladyofthehouse?IhaveaformalinvitationfromHerMajesty,theQueen.”
“Me!”LauraalmostlandedfacefirstonthecarpetdivingfortheletterBethanyheldinherhands.“I’mtheladyofthehouse!”
“Brilliant.”BethanyhandedLauraafolded-uppagethey’dtornoutofhislatestSportsIllustrated.“TheQueenrequiresyourpresenceatafternoontea.”
Laurapretendedtoreadtheroyalinvitation.“Itsayswe’reallinvited.”
MeganandDaniellecheeredandhoppedtotheirfeet,joiningLaurainastampedethatalmostknockedBethanyonhergorgeousass.ShetradedadazedlookwithWes.“Theyalmostknockedmedowntogettothedrinks.Thisisn’tthatdifferentfromaJustUsLeaguemeeting.”
Wesheavedhimselfoutofthebeanbagchairwithachuckle.“Hopefullythesimilaritiesendthere.Thelastthingweneedisthesekidsgoinghomechantingaboutladyballs.”
Bethany’smouthformedanO.“I’mgoingtostarthavingthememberssignanNDA.Allofthisleakingofimportantproceduresisgettingoutofhand.”
“AfterMarjoriesangthesongforme,itgotstuckinmyhead,ifthathelps.”
“Itdoes,actually,”shesaid,lettinghimseejustahintofhersmile,beforesheturnedtowalkdownthehallwayandjointheteaparty.“Now,ladies,”Bethanysaid,claspingherhandstogether.“IfIcouldhaveyourattention,please,Iwouldliketointroduceyourbutlerforthisafternoon,WesDorkingham.He’stakingabreakfromhisdutiesascourtjestertoservethetea.”
Thepoliteapplausefromthethreegirlslastedallofthreeseconds,beforetheystartedwavingtheirteacupsintheairanderuptedwithchorusesof“Tea!Where’smytea,Dorkingham?”
WithnarrowedeyesinBethany’sdirection,Wespickeduptheplasticpitchertheywereusingasateapotandpouredlukewarmliquidintoeachofthecups.WhenhereachedLauraandfilledhercup,hedidn’teventhink,hejustleaneddownandkissedheronthecrownofthehead.Hehoveredthereforafewseconds,wonderingwhatthehellhadpossessedhimtodosomethingso…fatherly.She’donlycuddleduptohimonceonthecouch—nowhewaskissingheronthehead?
Lauratiltedherheadbackslowlyandsmiledathim.Itwasn’tthegoing-through-the-motionssmileshe’dpaintedonalotwhenhefirstgottoPortJefferson.Nowthathethoughtaboutit,hehadn’tseenthatoneinaboutaweek.Thisonewasburstingwithsomethinghecouldn’treallyname.Itwasdefinitelyonthehappyendofthespectrum,though,wasn’tit?
Yeah.Hisniecewashappy.
Wasitcrazytothinkhe’dhelpedhergetthere?
Pressurestartedinhisthroatandcascadeddownward.Healmosthadtosetdownthepitchersohecouldfeelaroundinhischestforthetwistingsensation.
“Whataboutdinner?”Daniellesingsonged,breakingthespell.“Wecan’thavecakewithoutdinnerfirst.”
Wesclearedhisthroat.NoticingBethanywaswatchinghimthoughtfully,hemadehisvoicelight.“Dang,girl.Youhaven’teventriedtheteayet.Areyouoneofthosedifficultcustomers?”Onhissecondpassaroundthetable,hespokefromthesideofhismouthtoBethany.“Seriously,though.It’salmostdinnertimeandIseriouslydoubttheywantgreenbeancasserole.”
“OhGod.”Bethanyhidbehindthefallofherhair,butnotbeforehesawherwatchinghimandLaurawithacurioussheeninhereyes.“Um.WhichJustUsLeaguemembermadeyouthat?”
“Comeon,now.”Desperatetolightenthemood,hegaveBethanyalighthip-check.“YouknowIcallherGreenBeanCasserole.”
Thankfullybacktonormal,shesnorted.“You’reimpossible.”Shechewedherlipforamoment.“GoordersomepizzasandI’llstall.”
“Onit.”
Wessetdowntheteapitcherwithaclunkandwhippedouthiscell,which,ofcourse,hadtheclosestpizzaplaceonspeeddial.Theyputhimonholdand,withthemusicplayinginhisear,hewatchedBethanyfurtherworkhermagic—andthat’sexactlywhatitwas.
“Allright,ladies,ifwe’veallhadourfilloftea,thetimehascomefortheprincessceremony.”
“Thewhat?”Lauraasked,inatrance.
“Theprincessceremony,ofcourse.”Bethanyclappedherhandstogether.“TheQueenhasbroughtyouallheretodaytomakeyouallofficialprincesses.”
Weswassurprisedwhentheroarofexcitementdidn’tshatterawindow.
Bethanywaskillingit.Andthecraziestpartofthewholesituationwas…sheonlyseemedcapableofenjoyingtheirreactionsforapproximatelytwosecondsbeforeshevisiblystartedworryingaboutwhatcamenext.Didn’tsheknowhowfaroutoftheparkshewashittingthis?Sheclaimedtoknownothingaboutkids,butshe’dwonthemoverfasterthanaseasonedbabysittercouldeverhopetodo.He’dputmoneyonit.
Whatthehellhadmadehersounsureofherself?Hisearlierepiphanythathe’dcontributedtoherinsecuritiessatinhisgutlikealumpoflead.
Hewasn’tdonemakingituptoher.Notbyalongshot.
Wasitwishfulthinking,ordidLauraseem…happy?Veryhappy.She’dseemedthatwayallthroughtheteapartyanddinner.Afterward,MeganandDaniellehadbeenpickedupbytheirmother,butLauradidn’tseemtowantBethanytoleaveyet,askinghertoreadastory.Andseeminglyenjoyingit.Bethanywasstruckbyhowsatisfyingthatwas.
She’dfeltthesamewaywhensheswungthesledgehammerintothewallandturnedtolookatWes—
Shereally,reallyneededtogohome
“AndthatisthestoryofhowFancyNancytriumphedinherquesttofindtheunicorn,”Bethanyfinished,closingthebook.“Goodnight,Laura.”
Lauraputherarmsup.“Hug.”
“Fromme?”
Thelittlegirlnodded.
“Oh.”BethanyleaneddownandletLaurawrapherinahugthatpulledherhairandputatwingeinherneck,butwassomehowtheloveliesthugshe’deverreceived.“WouldyoulikemetosendinyourUncleWes?”
“Wayaheadofyou,”saidthemanasheenteredtheroom.“DidNancygetthatunicorn?”
Lauragrinned.“Yes.”
“Ohgood.I’malwaysworried.”WeswentdownonhiskneesontheoppositesideofthebedfromBethanyanddroppedakissonLaura’scheek,chucklingwhenshestrangledhimwithafiercehug.
“Ican’twaitforschooltomorrow,”shesaid.
AsmilewasbloomingonWes’sfacewhenhepulledback.“That’sgreat,kid.”
Laurasnuggledintothesheets,turningontoherside.Almostasanafterthought,shesaid,“Iloveyou.”
BethanyheldherbreathasshewatchedWes’seasygoingexpressionbereplacedwithdumbstruckawe.“Iloveyou,too,”hesaid,gruffly.“Seeyouinthemorning.”
Bothadultslefttheroom.Beforethey’devenreachedthedoor,softsnoreswerecomingfromthebed.Quietly,theysteppedintothehallwayandWesclosedthedoorbehindthem.Thenhejustkindofstoodthere,staringintospace
“Isthatthefirsttimeshe’ssaidthattoyou?”Bethanyasked.
“Yeah.”Hescrubbedatthebackofhisneck.“Shit.”
“Shit,what?”
“Shit…noone’seversaidthattomebefore,”hesaid,dazedly.“Haveabeerwithme?”
“Ireallyshouldgo,”Bethanysaid,tooquickly.NoonehadeversaidIloveyoutothisman?ShewasalreadyhavingaveryhardtimeremainingdetachedafterwatchingsuchapersonalexchangebetweenWesandhisniece.Nowherfingertipswerenumbfromhisadmission.Helookedlikehe’dbeensmackedinthefacewithatwo-by-fourandherowndumbheartwaspumpinglikearevvedmotorinresponse.
Thiswholeeveninghadalreadybeenanout-of-bodyexperience,butshe’dmanagedtoretainascrapofobjectivity.Afterall,shecouldn’tverywellmakeitaregularoccurrence.Readingbedtimestoriestotheadorablenieceandspinningteapartynarratives.Honestly,Bethany.Shouldn’tshebehomeupdatingherprofessionalsocialmediaortacklingadesignplanfortheflip?Somethingproductive?
Asifhehadn’theardherresponse,Wesherdedherdownthehallway—andshewent,feelingalittlelikeapirateprisonerwalkingtheplank.Theysteppedoverstuffedanimalsandcrayonsuntiltheyreachedthekitchen.BethanyhuggedherelbowsuntilWeshandedheranopenbottleofbeer,clinkinghisglassneckwithhers.
“Comeon.”Hepaddedonbarefeettothebackdoor,flippedthelock,andopenedit,summoningherintothebackyardwithaninvitingchinjerk.Ifshe’dsensedshewaswalkingtoherdoombefore,she’dbeenwrong.Therealtroublelayintheromanticoutdoorsetting.
Neitheroneofthemwaswearingshoesandthedampfallgrassthreadedthroughhertoes.Thebeerwascoldinherhand,themoonwasbright,andthewindheldjusttherightamountofchill.Plushestillhadthatkindofdelightedshockonhisfacethatwassosweet,shealmostwishedshe’dneverseenit.Howwasshesupposedtogobacktodislikinghim?
Westiltedhisfaceupatthemoonandtookseveralsipsofhisbeer.Shewashelplesstodoanythingbutwatchthesilhouetteofhisstrongthroatgulpingdowntheliquid.
Hesquintedoverather.“Doyouthinkshemeantit?”
“Yes,”sheansweredhonestly,pressingherbeerbottletotheunusualtuginherchest.“Didyoumeanit?”
Abeatpassed.“Yeah.”
Sheswallowed.“Willyouleaverightawaywhenhermothercomesback?”
“That’stheplan.MoveonandhopeImadeasmalldifference.”Heblewoutabreath.“Therewerepeoplealongthewaythatdidthatforme,whenIwasmovinginandoutofnewhomes.Teachersoragoodfosterparentwhoturnedmetowardacertainpathandkickedmeintheasstogetmemoving.Itdoesn’tseemlikemuchatthetimeandmaybeitwasnothingtothem,butitwassomethingtome.Maybe…forher,it’llbemewhodoesthat.”
Herstomachjolted.“Ididn’tknowyouwereinfostercare.”
Henoddedonce,butdidn’trespond.Inthegloryofthemoonlight,helookedolder,moreworldlyandweathered.Ormaybeitwasthewordscomingoutofhismouth.Shedidn’tknowwhatitwas,butallofit,everything,drewhercloser.
“SoLaura’smotherisn’tyourrealsister?”
“Sheis.Half.Wehavethesamemother.”Heseemedtogatherhisthoughts.“Beckyhaditalotharderthanmegrowingup.Icouldgethiredtodomanuallaborandthatmadeiteasiertostayoutofourfosterhome.Outoftheway.Therearegoodfamiliesouttherehelpingkids,buttheonewherewewereplacedtogether…weweren’tasfortunate.Ourfosterparentshadanissuewithliquorandfighting.Moneytroubles,ontopofit.”Hesquintedintothedarkness.“Beckyuseddrugstocope.ShestayedoffthemwhenshegotpregnantwithLauraandIthoughtshe’dcarvedthisnewlifeoutforherselfinNewYork.ButIdon’tknow.Itworriesmethatshe’srunofflikethis.”
Bethanycouldn’thelpbutglancebacktowardthehouse,whereLauralaysleeping.Whatwouldthislittlegirlhavedonewithoutheruncle?Asfarasshecouldtell,nooneinPortJeffersonhadbeenawareofanydiscordbetweenLaura’sparents.Definitelynoonehadspottedanydruguseorshe’dhaveheard.“ThankGodyou’rehere,Wes,”shewhispered.“Youreallysteppedup.”
Herpraiseearnedherasharplook.Asurprisedone?“Yeah,well.I’mfarfromasaint.There’vebeenalotoftimesI’vewantedtoignoreBecky’scalls.I’vejustlearnedit’seasier…lettingpeoplepassinandoutwithouttryingtoholdonortheyjustslipthroughanyway.ButI’mgladIdidn’tthistime.”Hemadeajerkymovementandtookanotherpullofhisbeer.“Thiswasoneofthosegoodstopsalongtheway.”
“Alongthewaytowhat?”
Hewinkedatherinthemoonlight.“Grayhairandsciatica,Iguess.”
Shepuffedalaugh,thoughshehadaweightonherchest.“Thisisn’tjustanotherstopalongthewayforyou.”
Hesobered.“Itdoesn’tfeellikeI’msupposedto…leavehere.ButI’vethoughtthatbefore.”
“Becauseofawoman?”
Nowwhydidsheaskthat?Bethanymentallykickedherself.Butbeforeshecouldtakebackthequestion,Weslookedawayfromthemoonandoverather,acombinationofhumorandheatsnappinginhiseyes.“No,notbecauseofawoman.”Hesethisbeerdownonthebackwindowsillandcametowardherslowly.“Ispenteighteenyearsinandoutoffostercare.Livedinsingle-parenthomes,stayedwithmarriedcouples,retirees.WhenIwasseven,theKolkerstookmein.Theywerewarmandwelcominginthebeginning.Happy.Iletmyselffeelsecure.ButtheyeventuallysplitovermoneytroublesandIwasspitrightbackintothesystem.”Histhroatworked.“I’vefoundsituationsthatfeltright.Friends,ajob,afosterfamily.Ithoughtthatwasit.I’dstick.ButitturnedoutIwasjustastopalongthewayforsomeoneelse.”
Bethanycouldonlypartiallyrelatetothat.Herrelationshipshadneverbeenanythingbutpitstops,butatleastshehadafamilyandfriends.Theywereconstantsforher.ConstantsWesneverhad.“I’msorry.”
Withoutsacrificingtheircementedeyecontact,hetookoutherponytailandworkedhisfingersthroughherhair.“Idon’twantsorrysfromyou.”
“No,”shewhispered,wettingherlips.“Youjustwantmetomakethisstopalongthewaymoreinteresting.”
Conflicttightenedhisfeatures.“Neverliedaboutthat.”
“No,youhaven’t.”
Hismouthwasclosernow,hoveringjustabovehers.“Goddamn.”Hisgazetrailedovereveryinchofherface.“IftherewaseverawomanI’dstickfor,darlin’—”
Bethanysurgeduponhertoesandlockedtheirmouthstogether.Whatwasherotheroption?Hearingtherestofthatsentence?No.No,sir…
OhgoodGod,hismouthfeltgreat.
Hedidn’tleadherintosomeperfecteddanceorimposehiswillonher.Hejustletthekisshappen,letitunfoldlikeanunwrittenstory.Hisunevenexhalefilledhermouthandhisbodypressedclose,slowly,swayingwiththebreezeastheirlipspartedandthetipsoftheirtonguesmetonce,twice.Itwastheexactoppositeofwhatshewouldhaveexpectedfromkissingatwenty-three-year-oldman.Itwasuniquetothemandthemomentandshecouldbarelyfeelherfingertips.
Keepyourhead.Keepyourbalance.
Wessippedatherupperlipandshequitehelplesslymeltedagainsthim,stillonhertoes,lettinghimguidehistongueintohermouth,sweepingitacrosshers.Hisfingersweregentleandreverentinherhair,hisoppositearmfindingaplacewrappedaroundherhips,urginghercloseuntiltheirlowerbodiespressedandtheymoanedintoeachother’smouths.
That’swhenBethanyexpectedhimtoturniton,toimpresshismasculinityuponher,buthecontinuedtoslanthismouthoverhersinsavoringslides,rubbingthebaseofherspinewithhisthumbandbrushingherhairsweetly.Hisworshipofherwastoomuch,toounexpectedlyperfectthatshestartedtopanic,buthepulledawaybeforeshecouldstopthekiss.“Iknowyoudidn’twanttoheartheendofwhatIwastellingyou,”herasped,brushingtheirmouthstogether.“ButIjusttoldyouanyway.”
I’mintrouble.
Hedidn’tallowhertoacknowledgemorethanthatsinglecoherentthoughtbeforehesweptherbackintothetornado.TheirlusthadgonefromaslowleaktoabrokendamandBethanyhadnochoicebuttoridethetide.Histongueplayedwithhersalmosttauntinglyandwhenshetriedtogetasatisfyingtaste,hetuggedawayandsnappedatherlowerlipinstead.“Gotsomethingelsetotellyounow.”
“No,”shebreathed.“Shutup.”
Weslaughedlowandhuskywhilewalkingherbackwardintotheshadowsandsteadyinghimselfwithahandonthesideofthehouse.“WhatdidIsaywouldhappenwhenIgotmytongueinyourmouth?”
Hishipspinnedhersandshegasped.“ThatIwouldfeelyour,uhhm…”
“Mylackoffucksaboutouragedifference.”Hecapturedherchinandtilteditup,hishipscinchingforwardsoshecouldfeelthethickjutofhiserection.“Someoneisfinallypayingattention.”
Herpantiesgrewdamp.Ordamper,rather.“Don’ttalktomelikethat—”
Wes’smouthstampeddownoverhersandmadelovetoit.Shecouldn’tdescribeitanyotherway.Heownedhertonguewithpossessivestrokes,hisholdfirmonherchintokeephermouthpriedopen.Itwasnothingliketheirfirstkissandallthebetterforthecontrast.Knowinghecoulddoboth,begentleanddemanding,wassuchaturn-on,herheadwasgoingtopoplikeaballoon.
Afterme!calledherovaries.
Wesbrokeoffwithagrowlandpressedhisopenmouthtoherforehead.“Youfeelmylackoffucksyet?”
Wait,what?Howwasshesupposedtoconcentrateonanythingwhenhekissedherlikethat?
“GuessIbetterspeakalittlelouder,”hesaidgruffly,oneofhishandsleavingthewall,fingersslidingunderthestrapofherromper.“Thatwhatyouwant,Bethany?”
“Whatareyouaskingme?”
Hebenthiskneesandrose,grindingtheirsexestogether.Thefrictionwassorawandwelcomeandunexpected,shewhimperedattheresultingflexofherfemininemuscles.“I’maskingtosuckyourtits,”hesaid,hishoteyesdroppingtoherneckline.“ClimbonupheresoIcanplaywiththem.Betthey’resofuckingpretty.”
“Theyare,”sheasserted,tryingtoregainsomeofthecontrolthatwasquicklyslippingthroughherfingers.“Wes,I…Thisis…”
Hisfingersslippedbackandforthbeneathherstrap,hishipsrockingbetweenherlegs.“Thisiswhat?”
ThefirsttimeI’veeverbeendesperate.
ThefirsttimeI’vebeensoneedyI’mnotsureIcouldstop.
WeslookeddownattheirlowerbodiesandBethanyrealizedshe’dwrappedherrightlegaroundhimandwasmeetinghisslowbumpsandgrinds.“Lookslikeyou’retheonetellingmesomethingnow,baby.”
“Shutup,”shebreathed.
Thecornerofhislipslifted.“Words.Ineedtohearthem.YouwantmelickingalloverthosenippleslikeIlickedinsidethatsmartmouth?”
Hernodwasvigorousandtotallyinvoluntary.
Right.
“ThankGod,”hegrowled,boostingherupandsmackingherbackagainstthehouse.Hisbigshafthitherinanewspotbetweenherthighs,butWesgavehernotimetorecoverfromtheamazingfriction.No,hewasalreadyyankingdownonestrapofherromper,usinghisteethtodrawdowntheother.“Show’emoffnow.Showmehowmuchyoudon’tcarethatI’myounger.”Bethanyarchedoffthehousewithamoan,heranglecausingthetopofherdenimrompertofalltoherwaist,revealingtwothingstohim.Herlackofabraandhowhardhe’dmadehernipples.“Fuckinghell,Bethany.”
“T-toldyoutheywerepretty,”shemurmured,evenasshecheckedhiseyesforsignsthathewasdisappointed.
Hisscofffilledthedarkbackyard.“Prettydoesn’tdothemjustice.Notsurethere’sawordthatwould.”Heleaneddownandbrushedhislipagainsthernipples,onebyone,groaningwhenthetightbudspuckeredallthemore.“I’vefinallygotyouwhereIwantyou,baby.Can’tbelieveit.”Hedraggedthelengthofhistonguesidetosideontopofherrightnipple.“Fuckthat,it’swhereIneedyou,isn’tit?”
“Yes,”shesaid,hereyesclosing,legstighteningaroundhiships.“Please.”
She’dalwaysrushedmenthroughusingtheirmouthsonherbreasts—andthatwaswhentheydeignedtotry.Mostofthem…okay,allofthemlackedWes’sfinesse.Althoughcouldshecallitfinessewhenhisenjoymentwassoauthentic?Ashetookherleftbudintohismouthanddrewonithungrily,shecouldfeelhimpulseagainsttheseamofherromper,couldfeelthevibrationofhisgroansstraightthroughtohercore.Hishandswereeverywhere.Inherhair,squeezingherwaist,moldingheroppositebreastinhispalmwhilehetooklibertieswiththefirst.
Iwanthiminsideme.
Badly.Notonceinherentirelifehadshebeenthiswet,thiseager,thishungrytofeelthatfirstpumpofaman’sthicknessbetweenherlegs,theroughnessthatcameafter.Shewanteditall.
Whatifhelostinterestafterthat?
WhendidshestartcaringifWeswasinterested?
Didshecarenow?
Whatwashethinkingrightnow?
Wassheexceedingexpectationsormerelymeetingthem—
“Bethany.”SheopenedhereyestofindWeslookingatherfrombeneathheavyeyelids,hisbreathcominginshortspurts.“Whathappened?Ilostyou.”
“Idon’tknow.”Honestycametoherlipswithoutevenasmidgenofcoaxingorconsideration.“IstartedthinkingIwantsexandthenIspiraled.”
“Intowhat?”
“Wonderingifyou’d…”
Henarrowedoneeye.“IfI’d…”
“Hititandquitit.”
Weswassilentamoment,pensiveeven,whichwaskindoffunnyconsideringhewasstillskillfullykneadingherrightbreast.Which,inturn,wasstillmakingherfleshcontractandslicken.“Thosekindofdoubtsaboutmearewhysexain’thappeningyet.”Bethanyopenedhermouthtospeak,buthebeathertoit.“Yourtrustmatters.ItmatterswhetherI’mleavingorstaying.Itjustmatters.Youmatter.”Hisforeheadpressedagainsthers.“NowletmegetyouofflikeI’vebeendreamingaboutforweeks.”
ShewasacanofPepsiandsomeonehadshakenherandflippedopenthetab.Herfearsandfollow-upquestionswentinninetymessydirectionsandcanceledeachotherout.Allshecoulddowasholdonandfeel.Hismouthcapturedherrightnippleandhecircledhistonguearoundit,grazingitwithhisteethandmakingherthighsjerk.Acryshotfromhermouth.Hishandspusheddownthesaggingbackofherromperandlandedonbarebottomcheeks,separatedbywhateverthongshe’dputonafterhershower.Shecouldn’tevenrememberthecolor.
“Onethingatatime,”herasped,seeminglytohimself,rubbinghisscruffoveroneofherpuckerednipples.“Rightnow,Iwanttohearouragesdon’tmeanshit.Sayoutloudthattheydon’tmeanadamnthingtoeitherofus.”
“Theydon’t,”shemanaged,thepulsebetweenherlegsthickeningandgrowingmoreurgent.“Theydon’tmeananything.”
Hesuckedanippleintohismouthandletitgowithapop.“Mymouthwillalwaysbetheperfectagetomakeyoucome.”Hishipsthrustupintothenotchofherthighsandbouncedherthreetimes.“That’swhatcounts,baby.”
Heatdidn’tjustpermeateherloins,itbitinandtwisted—andshewascoming.Rightthereagainstthehouse,withhertopdownandthismanshethoughtshehatedprovidingherwithfrictionfordays.ShesobbedthroughitwithtremblinglegsandWesstaringherrightintheeye.Thatwasthepartthatrobbedherofbreath,ofboundaries.Shestaredbackandlethimseehowthoroughlyhemilkedherorgasm.Continuedtoprolongitwithsharprollsofhislowerbodyasifhe’dreadafreakingdossieronherpreferences.Shebitherlipandwhinedforhim,tellinghimwithoutcoherentsentencesthatherpussywasspasminginhisname.Theconnectionshesharedwithhiminthoseextendedsecondswasalmostassatisfyingasherclimax.Itwentbeyondintimacy—anditwasmakingherpainfullyawarethatshe’dneverreallysharedintimacywithanyone.
Neverbeforehadshegivenherselfovertoamancompletely.She’dbeenfaking,onlylettingthemseewhatshechosetoshowthem.WithWes,shehadnochoicebuttolethimindeeper.Tostopthinkingandfeel.Withoutheroverlyanalyticalmindholdingherback,herbodylethimtakewithoutreservation.
“Thereyouare,darlin’,”hegroundoutagainsthermouth,hishandsstillexploringherbottom,usinghisgriptorideherupanddown.“Therethehellyouare,leavingtheproofofwhatIdidtoyoualloverme.RightwhereIwantit.Goodgirl.”
ThestrainofreliefleftBethanyandsheslumped,depleted,overhisshoulder.Westurnedandwalkedthemintothehouse,herlegsdanglingaroundhiships.Allthewaythroughthekitchen,thelivingroom,andthehallway,shetoldherselftoputherdamnfeetonthegroundandgohome,butshekeptsilencingherselfinfavorofonemoreminuteinhisarms.Shehadamillionquestions,like…mainly,didn’thewantanorgasm?Thaterectionpointedtowardanenthusiasticyes.Butalso,whathappenednow?Weretheycompletelydonebeingenemies?Didheexpecttohookupwithheragain?Likeonaregularbasis?Wassheokaywiththat?
Wesslappedherontheass.“Stopthinkingsohard.”
Bethany’smouthfellopenandshestartedtosputteraprotest.Whatcameoutinsteadwas,“Whataboutyou?”Allbreathy-likeandsimpering.“Don’tyouwantmetotakecareof,um…that?”
Amalegrunt.“I’mgood.”Heletherdowninfrontofthedoorandlaidafinalfirmkissonhermouth.“It’sgoingtodriveyounutsleavingsomethingundoneandthatguaranteesmeanexttimewithyou.”Hewinked.“Goodnight,Bethany.”
ShewalkedtohercaronRubbermaidlegs,wonderingifthewholeafternoonhadbeenadream.Andrefusingtoacknowledgehowmuchshewantedtostayasleep.ChapterFourteen
ItwasstilldarkthefollowingmorningwhenWeswalkedintoGrinders,thecoffeeshoponMainStreet.Hewasgritty-eyedandmorethanalittlecranky,totellthetruth.SendingBethanyonhermerrywaywhenshe’dbeeninclinedtoreturnsexualfavorshadseemedliketheonlyoptionatthetime,butaroundtwointhemorning,he’dstartedwonderingifhe’dfallenoutoftheStupidTreeandsmackedhisheadonacoupleofbranches.
Thereinthedarkness,he’denvisionedhimselfputtingdownrootsinPortJefferson,maybeeventryingforsomethingrealandlastingwithBethany.Somethingmorethansex.Orthewantingofit,rather.
He’dbeenupandpacingbeforetheinkdriedonthatthought.
ItwasgettingharderandhardertodenythatBethanymadehimwonderifmorethanavagabondexistencewaspossible.IfmaybehispresenceinLaura’slifewaspositiveandcouldcontinuetobethatway.
Indefinitely.
Butwhataboutthehardlessonshe’dlearnedinfostercare?Washegoingtocompletelydisregardthemnow?Lifecouldseemstableoneminuteandgetshakenuplikeamartiniinthenext.Withoutwarningorasatisfyingreason.Washesettinghimselfupfordisappointment?Loss?
Needingtoclearhisheadwithsomemanuallabor,WeshaddroppedoffLauraatOutlanderRingtone’shouseearlythismorningsohecouldmakeupforthetimehe’dlostontheflipyesterday.Demowascomplete,thankstoOllieandCarlprovingtheirsalt(andpepper),andthismorninghewasgettingtoworkonframingoutthewallsthey’dknockeddownduetowaterdamage.Bethany’sbudgethadallowedhimtohiresomegarbageremoverstohauloffthedebris,includingthemangledfloorboards,ancientappliances,andoldinsulation.
Wescouldonlyhopeafulldayofwoodworkwouldkeephismindoffhisownwood.Buthewasn’tholdinghisbreath.NotwhenhewasalreadycountingtheminutesuntilBethanyshoweduponthesite.Godhelphim,hecouldn’twaittoseehowshe’dactaroundhimnowthathe’drungherbellalittlebit.
Hadshebeeneverythinghe’dfantasizedabout?
Notevenclose.
She’declipsedanythinghisbraincouldhaveconjuredupbyagoodthousandmilesorso.Allthosetimeshe’dgonehometohisemptyhouseduringlunchbreaksandbeatoffinBethany’shonor,he’dimaginedangrysex.Hate-fucking,tobeexact.Thatwasn’twhathe’dgotten.Youdidn’thavesex,Wes’sdickremindedhim.
“Noshit,”hemuttered,sidlinguptothecounterofthesleepycoffeeshopandwaitingfortheownertomoseyoutofthebackroom.Oldiesplayedfromaradioonacornershelf,justbelowasignthatreadPILATES?ITHOUGHTYOUSAIDPIEANDLATTES
Damn,thatusuallygotalaughoutofhim.
Wesleanedontohiselbowsandburiedhisfaceinhishands,memoriesfromthenightbeforeinfiltratinglikeninjas.No,therehadn’tbeenanythingangryaboutlastnight.Thewholeevening,evenbeforehe’dbroughtBethanyoutintothebackyard,hadbeenso…nice.Theteaparty,stealingtoucheswithBethanyinthekitchen,puttingLauratobedandgettingtheLworddroppedonhimlikeasackofstones.Forthefirsttimeinalongtime,he’djustlivedinthemomentwithoutremindinghimselfitwouldend.
He’dlethimselfbelong
Bethanyhadahellofalottodowiththat.Yesterday,they’dbothbeenfeelingtheirwayinthedark.Together.Learningastheywent.
Theirrelationshipwassupposedtobesimple.Theyweregoingtoswipeateachotheruntiloneofthemgaveinandpounced.Butwhenitcametimetopouncelastnight,he’dbeenmoreconcernedwithtrust.Buildingafoundation.Hismindkepttellinghimthingsweren’tpossible,buthis…hearthadcottonstuffedintoitsears.
Twocollege-agedkids,aguyandagirl,stumbledoutofthebackroom,tanglingankles,bothoftheirfacesinchingtowardfuchsia.“Sorryforthewait,”saidthegirl.“WhatcanIgetyou?”
Westriednottolethistheorythatthey’dbeenmakingoutshowonhisface.“Largecoffee,please.Black.”
Beforehe’dfinishedplacinghisorder,thebellrangoverthedoorandinwalkedStephen.Bethany’sbrotherhadafrownonhisunshavenface,distractedbyanoteinhishand,soittookhimamomenttoregisterWesstandingatthecounter.Westippedhishat.“Morning.”
Stephenrolledbackhisshoulders.“Well,well.Ifitisn’tthecompetition.”Hesaunteredhiswaythroughafewtables,thenoteathisside.“IseeI’mnottheonlyonegettinganearlystart.Where’syourpartnerincrime?Powderinghernose?”
Abugofirritationcrawleduphisneck.“Womendon’tpowdertheirnosesanymore,man.Thisisn’tthefifties.”
TheeldestCastleslowedhisgait.“Whatdotheydo?”
“Idon’tknow,butit’sliquidanditlastsallday.That’swhatthecommercialstellme.”Westookouthiswalletanddroppedtheappropriateamountofsinglesonthecounter.“Andanyway,Bethanyhasbeengettingherhandsdirty,justlikeshesaidshewould.Don’tunderestimateher.”
“Ah,Jesus.Iknowthattoneyou’rethrowingatme.IknowitbecauseIhearditfromTraviswhenheinnocentlystartedhangingoutwithGeorgie.”Heputairquotesaroundtheword“innocently,”causinghimtodropthenoteinhishand.Withacurse,hestoopeddowntopickitbackup.“Allofasudden,hewasanexpertonmykidsisterandnowyou’redoingit,too.Well,Ihatetobethebearerofbadnews,butthistimeit’snotgoingtoendinanItalianhoneymoon.”
“Whatthehellisthatsupposedtomean—”Wesreeledhiscuriositybackinlikeaten-poundtrout.“Youknowwhat?Keepittoyourself.”
Stephencrossedhisarms,leanedbackagainstatable,andwaited.
Westookhistimewithhisfirstsipofcoffee.“Imeanit.Idon’twanttoknow.”
“Uh-huh.”
“CanIgetyousomething?”calledtheguybehindthecounter.
Stephenpushedoffthetable.“I’llhaveafreshsqueezedorangejuice,please.”HesniffedatWes’scoffee.“Someofuswanttolivelong,healthylives.”
“ThenI’dstoptryingtopisseveryoneoff.”
Hisoldbossbarkedalaugh.“You’reinamood.”Hedrummedcasualfingersonthecounter.“Maybeyouwanttotalkthroughyourrenovationplans?”
Westiltedhishead.“Now,Stephen.Youwouldn’tbeaskingmeforinsideinformationonthecompetition,wouldyou?”
“Please.LikeIneedhelpwinning.”Stephenunwrappedastrawandattemptedtopopitintohisorangejuicecup,missingtheholeseveraltimes.Hestoppedtryingwithawitheringsigh.“Idoneedhelpwithsomething,though.”
“What’sthat?”
“Whatelse?Kristin.She’sbeenleavingmethesenotesaroundthehouse.”Hewavedthepieceofpaperstillwedgedbetweenhisknuckles.“There’ssomekindofsignificancetothem,butIcan’tfigureitout.”
Wesheldouthishand.“Wantmetogiveitaread?”
Stephenhesitated.“Aslongasyoudon’ttellanyonethecontents.Especiallymysister,”hestressed.“NotthatIcanevendecipherthecontents,butstill.”
“Notsurprised.Youstillthinkwomenpowdertheirnoses.”Westookthenoteandreadthehandwrittenlines.
Thingsaregoingtochange.Yes,sir.Youcancountonthat.
Signed,yoursteadfastwife
Weskepthisfeaturesschooled.HewasseriouslyregrettinghispromisenottotellBethanythecontentsofthenote,becauseheknewshe’dgetakickoutofthem.Hersister-in-lawwasdefinitelyascrazyasBethanyclaimed.Shewasobviouslyhintingatthefactthatshewaspregnant,butinsteadofoutrighttellingStephen,she’ddecidedtoterrorizehimfirst.AfterthatsnidecommentaboutBethany,Wescouldn’tresistgettinginonthefun.
HehandedthenotebacktoStephenonablown-outbreath.“Idon’tknow,man.Soundslikeshe’smightyunhappy.Youbeengivingherproblems?”
Stephenpaled.“No.I-I…Imean,Idon’tthinkso.YouneverknowwithKristin.Oneminuteshe’ssmilingatmelikeIhungthemoon.Thenext,she’swatchingmeandchoppingonionsinthiskindoffocused,bone-chillingway…”
“Sure.Sure.”
“Youdon’tthinkshemeansthingsaregoingtochangeforthebetter?”
HewasnowJimfromTheOfficemessingwithDwight.Ifonlytherewasacameralenshecouldshrugatsheepishly.“Idon’tknow,man.IfIknowonethingaboutwomen,it’sthatyoucanalwaystellwhenthey’rehappy,”hesaid,pullingfromhistotallackofexperience.“Butwhenthey’resufferinginsilence?Thatshitcreepsupandbitesyou.”
Stephen’sheadbobbed.“You’rerightaboutthat,myfriend.”Hecarefullyfoldedthenoteandtuckeditintohispocket.“Ihavesomeworktodo.”
“Soundslikeit.”
WescontainedhischuckleuntilStephenleftthecoffeeshop.Hestartedtofollow,butwentbackandboughtabrowniewithpinksprinklesforBethany,rollinghiseyesatthesappygesture.Whichwasexactlythereactionshewouldprobablygivehim,too.Ifhewastryingtoscareheroff,tokensofhisadmirationoughttodoit.
Fifteenminuteslater,hearrivedatthejobsite.HeleftBethany’sbrowniewrappedinapaperbagonthesawhorseandbroughthiscoffeeoutsidetogetstartedontheframework.Forthenexttwohours,hewentbackandforth,insideandout,usingthetablesawinsidesinceconstructioncouldn’tlegallybeginuntileighto’clockinthemorningandhedidn’twanttheneighborscomplaining.Hewassofocusedonhistaskthathebarelynoticedwhenpeoplestartedtoarrive,glancingaroundfrombehindhisworkgogglestofindthefilmcrewsettingup.
OllieandCarlwerethere,too,cartingintheinsulationandSheetrockhe’daskedthemtopickup.Theystillhadacoupleofdaysbeforetheycouldutilizethosematerials,sincetheplumberandelectricianweresettoarrivetoday.Iftheygottheall-clear—andthatwasaprettyhugeif—they’dkeeponschedule,butWeswasprettysuretheelectricalwouldneedtobeupgraded,tosaynothingoftheleakypipes.
ThesoundofBethany’svoiceinthedistancebrokeintohisthoughts.Eagertolayeyesonher,Wespushedhisgogglesbackonhisheadandcrunchedthroughleavesandbroken-upconcreteonhiswayaroundthesideofthehouse.Familiarvoicesreachedhimbeforehegottothedriveway,onebelongingtoBethany.TheowneroftheotheronewasSlade.
Somethingsharpdrilledintohisgut.Insteadofmakinghimselfknownandtellingthecheesyhosttogetlost,heforcedhimselftowaitandlisten.
“Youlookbeautifultoday,Bethany,”Sladesaid.
Wesgroundhisteeth.
“Thanks.Youlooknice,too.”
Hegroundthemharder.
“Solisten,Iwasthinking…”Hereitcame.Sladewasmakingamove.“I’mstayingintownwhilewefilmandIdon’tknowanyofthelocalspots.Wouldyoubeinterestedinshowingmethebestplacetogetdinner?Mytreat.”
Westurnedandbracedhishandsonthehouse,hisgutalakeoffire,anditwasinthatmomentherealizedtherewasnoturningback.HewasinvestedinthisthingbetweenhimandBethany.Like,send-a-motherfucker-to-the-hospital-for-looking-at-her-twiceinvested.Theirmouthsandbodieshadbeeninperfectsynclastnight,buttherewasmorehere.Hedidn’tjustlikeher.Orlustafterher.
Hewasfallingforher.
Thisfeelingwasn’tafleetingone;itwasstickingaround.
Didthatmean…hewasconsideringstickingaround?
HisthroatgrewtighterwhilehewaitedforBethany’sanswer.
Itfinallycame.“That’sagreatoffer,but…”
“But?”
Don’tpushher,Slade.
“Areyouinvolvedwithyourforeman?Thatmighthavebeeninsinuated,butIjustcouldn’tseethefit.IfI’mbeingbrutallyhonest.”
Wesgroundhisfistintothewallofthehouse.
“Um…”Bethanyagain.“‘Involved’isastrongword.Butit’sdefinitelycomplicated,Iguessyoucouldsay.WithWes.”
Hethrewupavictoriousfist.It’scomplicated.She’dsaiditwascomplicated.
He’dfuckingtakeit.
“Isee,”Sladesaid.“Well,ifsomethingchanges,IhopeI’llbethefirsttoknow.”
“Sure,”shesaidwithasmileinhervoice.
FootstepsmovedinWes’sdirectionandhearrangedhimselfinacasualleanagainstthesideofthehouse,anklesandarmscrossed.Bethanyenteredhislineofvisionwithtwoto-gocoffeecupsinherhandsandstoppeddead,flushingtotherootsofherhair.“Howmuchdidyouhear?”
Wesrubbedhisjawwiththebacksofhisknuckles,unabletosubduehisgrin.“Exactlyhowcomplicatedisit,darlin’?”
Sheputhercutenoseintheairandbreezedpasthim.“Ihateyou.”
“Youdonot,”hesaid,hotonherheels.“Whoisthatsecondcoffeefor,becauseitsureashellain’tforSlade.He’soffsomewhererightnowtryingtopiecehisballsbacktogether,baby.Thatwaspoetic.”
“YourepitaphisgoingtobepoeticonceIstrangleyou.”
“Havingyourhandsonmeistheidealwaytogo.”
Shestoppedonadime,gavehimaprimlookthatmadehisflyfeeltight…andthenshestartedtodumponeofthecoffeesontheground.
“You’regoingtofeelrealguiltywhenyoufindoutIbroughtyouabrowniewithpinksprinkles.”
Herwristtwisted,savingacoupleinchesofcoffeefromspillingout.“Youdid?”
Weshummedanaffirmation.“Tomatchthosepantsthatmakeyourbunslookalltightandsexy.”
Withaslowshakeofherhead,shefinisheddumpingthecontentsofthecupontheground.“Ican’tbelieveIletyoukissme.”
“Wedidmorethankissandyouwanttodoitagain.”
Continuingherjourneytowardthebackofthehouse,shethrewhimasnortoverhershoulder.“It’ssadhowdelusionalyouare.”
“Icouldsaythesametoyou.”
“Notunlessyouwantthiscoffeeonyourhead.”Sheslowedtoahaltinfrontoftheframeshe’dspentthemorningbuilding.“Whendidthishappen?”
Wescameupbesideherandlettheirshouldersbrush.Lethimselftakeawhiffofhermagnoliascent.“ToldyouI’dmakeupforthetimeIlostyesterday.Ikeepmyword.”
“Soyoudo.”Herlightbrowspulledtogether.“WhotookLauratoschool?”
Herconcernforhisnieceandherroutinebledwarmthintohischest.“OutlanderRingtoneisanearlyriser.Shewasexcitedforthecompany.”
“Oh.Good.”Bethanyfirmedhershoulders,hergazedancinguptomeethisandflittingawayjustasfast.Butnotbeforehesawthatsherememberedlastnight,everybeatofit.Thewayhe’dnibbledonherdelicioustitsuntilshecame,thewaytheirmouthsfeltlikethey’dbeenreunitedafteralongabsence.Sherememberedandwasinthemiddleofbeingthrownforaloop,sameashim.“Well,um…thewindowguyisheretotakemeasurements.IguessIbettergettowork.”
Wesnodded,reluctanttopartwayswithher.“Okay.”
Sheturnedtowardthehouse,butmadenomovetogoinside.“Wes?”
Hefollowedherlineofvisiontowhereacameramanwastakingapanningshotofthebackyard,includingtheminit.“Yes?”
“Isthisgoingallright?”Shegesturedtothehouse.“Everything?”
Bysheerforceofwill,hestoppedhimselffromreachingforher.Buryingherfaceinhisneckandtalkingawayherworry.Jesus,helovedthiswomanaskinghimforreassurance.“It’sgoingjustfine,Bethany.”
Sheturnedtohimwithherlipcaughtbetweenherteeth.“Fine?”
“Renovationsaremessyrightupuntilthelaststrokeofpaint,baby.That’sjusthowitgoes,”hesaid.“That’s…hardforyou?”
Hernodwasslight.“Ithastobeperfect.”
Tellmeeverything.Layitonme.“Why?”
“Whywhat?”sheasked,confused.“Whydoesithavetobeperfect?Becausethat’swhatpeopleexpectfromme.It’swhatIexpectfrommyself.”
“Well,don’t.Expectingperfectcanonlyleadtodisappointment.Besides,it’stheflawsthatgiveapersoncharacter.That’swherethebeautyhides.”
Sheseemedtochewthatoveranddisregardit.“We’retalkingaboutthehouse,notaperson.”
“Right.”Hecaughtherhandtremblingandfrowned.Uponstudyinghercloser,henoticedthelittleredpatchofskinonherneck.Withoutthinking,hereachedupandbrusheditwiththepadsofhisfingers.“What’sthis?”
Quickly,shesteppedoutofhisreach.“Nothing.Justsomeirritation.”
“Itwasn’ttherelastnight.Iremembereveryinchyoushowedme.”
“It’snothing.”
“Thenletmeseeit.”Sherolledhereyesathimandcockedasassyhip,butwentstillasastatuewhenhecamecloser,easingdownthecollarofherwhitecottonT-shirt.Outwardly,hegavenoreaction,butatractorplowedthroughhismiddle,turningoversoil.“Youdothistoyourself,darlin’?”
“It’snotabigdeal.It’sjustastressthing.”
“Whenthingsaren’tgoingperfect.”
“Yes.Sometimes.”Heheardherswallow.“Allthetime.”
Theplowdugdeeper.Itkilledhimtoknowhe’doncebelievedshehaditalltogether,wheninactuality,she’dneededsomeonetoconfidein.Shewasn’tcoolandunflappablethewaypeopleassumed.Notbyadamnstretch.“I’vegotafirst-aidkitinmytruck.Letmeputsomethingonitandthenyou’llleaveitthehellalonefortheday.”
“Don’tbossmearound.”
Honestymadehisvoiceraw.“Idon’tlikeseeingthismarkonyou.”
Herlipspartedonapuffofbreath.“Youcan’tseeitunlessyougetreallyclose,butpeoplewillbeabletoseeabandageifyouputoneon.It’llpeekout.”
“Whocares?”
“Ido,”shemuttered.“Ido.”
Therewasalotgoingonhere.Weswantedtoknoweverydoubtandinsecurityinherhead,buthesuspectedifhepushedanymore,she’ddiginherheels.Infact,hewasgoingtobegratefulforasmuchasshe’drevealedthismorning.Hewaswillingtobetshedidn’tdothatwithmanypeople,ifanyone.Butshe’ddoneitforthemanshe’donceclaimedtohate.
It’scomplicated,indeed.
“Justsomesalve,then,allright?”
ShegavehimagrudgingnodandWesledhertohistruck,ahandonthesmallofherback.Hekeptaneyeonherwhileretrievingthekit,incaseshetriedtomakeabreakforit.Shesettledfordrinkingcoffeeandlookingimpatientinstead,buthecouldseethroughher.Givinghimaccesstotheredblemishprobablyhadn’tbeeneasyforherandhewas…humbled.
Alotlikehe’dbeenlastnightwhenLaurasaidIloveyou
ThesefemaleswerecarvinghimuplikeaThanksgivingturkey.
Hewantedtokissthisoneintheworstway,though,andtheresultingknotsinhisstomachmadehisfingersunsteadyasheappliedthesalvetothesmoothbaseofherneck.Buthe’dneverbeenacoward.Notasingledayinhislife.Plusshe’dgivenhimastripofpridebylettinghimfixupherneck.Nowitwashisturn.“Attheriskofcomplicatingthismore,Bethany,Iwanttotakeyouout.”
“What?”
“Don’tactlikeit’ssomecrazy-assnotion.You’dhaveletmetakeyoutobedlastnightifIhadn’tsentyouhome.”
Shegapedathim,butWescouldseegratitudeinhereyes.Thiswomanpreferredsparringovercoddlingandhe’dgivenherawaytostomachthelatter.“Iwenthomevoluntarily,thankyouverymuch.ButevenifI’dstayed,it’sahugeleap—huge—tolandondating.”
“Ididn’tsaydating.Isaidadate.Butifyouinsistwe’redating,I’mnotgoingtocontradictyou.”
“Wereyouworkingwithpolyurethanethismorning?Didyousniffit?”
Weslaughed.“Soyou’retellingmeyouneedsomeconvincing.”
Bethanymovedoutofhisreach.“Iamnotencouragingthat.”
“Yousaidit’scomplicated,baby.Hearditplainasday.”
“Imeantyougivemeindigestion.”
Thiswoman.Shewassuchafuckingworkofart,itwastorturousstandingthisclosewithoutholdingher,kissingher,ticklingher.Something.“Onedrink.Thinkaboutit.Wealreadyhadabeerinmybackyard.It’snotsuchastretch.”
“Inthistown,itwouldbe.Onedrinkandpeoplewouldstartaskingmeifwe’replanningonhavingoneortwokidsandifwe’vedecidedonacolorschemeforthenursery.”
“Aneutralyellowsoundsaboutright.”
Shedismissedhimwithagroan,leavinghimstandingathistruck.Rightbeforesheturnedaway,though,WescaughtsightofherbloomingsmileandheheldontothatmemoryforthenexthalfhourwhileSladeinterviewedhimonwhatwouldeventuallybetheporch.Hewasforcedtopretendlikethesonofabitchhadn’ttriedtoaskouthiswomanwhileansweringquestionslike“Areyouworriedaboutlosing?Howworried?Doyouwishyou’dstayedwithyouroriginalteam?Wouldyouliketoknowwhichteamisfartherahead?”
Wesanswerednotoeverythinganddidn’telaborate,nomatterhowvigorouslythedirectorrolledhisfinger,beggingWestokeepgoing.Outofthecornerofhiseye,hewatchedBethanyandthewindowguymovingfromroomtoroom,themiddle-agedmantakingnotesonaclipboarduntiltheywerefinished.Finally,theproducersletWesgetbacktoworkandcalledBethanyoverforthesameinterrogation.
Itwasn’teasyworkingwiththecamerasinhisfaceallday,buttheymadeahellofalotofprogresswhilelisteningtoSladedothesamepun-tastictakestwentytimes.Bethanyworkedonsandingdownthesalvageablewallsinthebackbedrooms.Wes,Ollie,andCarlstartedframingthenewfloorplan,whichwouldtransformthediningandlivingroomintotheopenconceptspaceBethanywanted.
Thefilmcrewstartedpackingitinforthedayaroundthreeo’clock,thankChrist.IfsomeoneapproachedWeswithaboommiconemoretimeandaskedhowhefeltabouttheirprogress,hewasgoingtosnapthatthingoverhisknee.Thankfulforthechancetoworkafewhoursinpeacebeforeheadinghome,Weswasgettingreadytostapleinsulationintotheframehe’djustinstalledwhenhisphonerang.
Hisheadfellbackandheissuedaprayerattheceilingthatitwasn’tthebabysittercancelingagain.Ifhekeptcuttingoutearly,theyweren’tgoingtofinishthisjobintime.Butwhenhelookedatthescreen,iceprickledalonghisskin.Itwasn’tOutlanderRingtonecalling,itwashissister.
“Hello?”
“Wes.Hey.”
Hearingtheanxiousnoteinhervoice,heslowlysetdownhisstaplegun.“Becky.What’sup?Whereareyou?”
“I’mback.I’mintown.”Trafficbuzzedpastinthebackground.“I’matthetrainstation.Canyoucomepickmeup?”
Bethanyappearedintheroomtohisleft,butstoppedmovingwhenshesawwhateverexpressionwasonhisface.Shock?Dread?Both?“Whereisyourcar?”
“Hadtosellit.Canyoucomeornot?”
Heragitationwaslikewormsburrowinginhisbones.Wassheusingagain?He’dhavetoseehertobesure,butthedefensivenessshewasalreadyemployinghadhimleaningtowardyes.Andthatmeanthedidn’twantheraroundLaura.Protectivenesslappedathisnecklikearisingcurrent,surprisinghimwithitsintensity.Whenhe’darrivedinPortJefferson,he’dbeendeterminedtodohisbest,buthe’dneverconsideredhimselfabetteroptionthananyone,evenhissister.He’djustbeentheonlyoption.Now,though?Hecouldn’thelpfeelinglikethegatekeeperbetweenhisnieceandanythingremotelynegative.Nothappening.
Beckywasn’tabadperson.She’djustgrownupwithverylittleguidanceandithadn’tbeenenoughtoovercomethechallengesthatcamewithbeingorphanedandmovedaroundsooftenshecouldn’tfindstability.Itwasnowondershedidn’tknowhowtoprovideitnow.Buthissympathyforherdidn’toverridehisneedtodowhatwasbestforhisniece
“Yeah,staywhereyouare.I’llcomegetyouandwe’lltalk,allright?”
Silencepassed.“Fine.”
“Seeyousoon,”Wessaid,hangingupthephone.Hesmackedthedeviceagainsthispalmafewtimes,butdidn’tfeeltheimpact.“Thatwasmysister.I’msorry,Ihavetogopickherup.She’satthetrainstation.”Hishandswereunsteadywhenhetriedtodialthebabysitter.“IshouldletthebabysitterknowI’mgoingtobelate.Idon’tknowwhatBecky’llbelike…”
Bethanyappearedfrozen,butrecoveredtosay,“Cancelthebabysitter.IcangogetLaura.Idon’tmindstayingaslateasyouneed.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.Yes.Iknowhowtoorderapizza.”Shefussedwithherponytail.“Go.”
Wesdidn’tthink.Hejustdidwhatfeltright,leaninginandkissingBethanyhardonthemouth.“Thankyou.”Heslippedhiskeyringoutofhispocketanddetachedthehousekey,tuckingitintothefrontpocketofherjeans.“I’llcalltheschoolonthewayandletthemknowyou’recoming.”
Heonlyallowedhimselfafewsecondstowatchtheflushspreadacrosshercheeksbeforeheturnedandleft.Onthewaytothetrainstation,onephraserepeateditselfoverandoverinhishead.
I’mnotreadytogo.ChapterFifteen
Bethany’slifewasalandscapethatneverstoppedchanging.
Lastweek,she’dthoughttheflipwouldshakethingsup.Thatitwouldriddleherwithanxietyandforcehertoconfrontthewomanshe’dbecomeatagethirty.Apparentlyshe’donlybeenhalfright.
ShewasnowamemberofanIt’sComplicatedarrangement.
Thosewordshadcomeoutofherveryownmouth,despiteherbetterjudgment,andthey’dneverbeentruerthanrightnow,withafive-year-oldeatinganicecreamconeinthebackseatofherimmaculateMercedes,singingalongtoKatyPerryinbetweenlicks.Whatinthesweethellwasgoingon?
Andwhydidn’tshemindit?
DrivingLaurahomewasexactlywheresheneededtobe,butmorethanthat,she’dprobablybeenjoyingherself,ifitweren’tfortheharbingerofWes’simminentdeparturehangingoverthesunrooflikeathunderhead.Weren’ttheysupposedtolockhornsforatleastanotheryear?Washegoingtoleavenowthathissisterhadcomebackonthescene?Whydidthatpossibilitymakehershortofbreath?
Whatsheshouldbewasrelievedthatthemanwhoseemedawareofhereveryflaw—anddidn’thesitatetopointthemout—wasleaving.Nomorecracksaboutherclovenhooves.Nomoreinappropriatecommentsabouthowherasslookedinyogapants.
Nomorebreathlesskisses,either.Orthoseunexpectedmomentswhenshecouldn’thelpbutunburdenherselftoWesand,oddly,hedidn’tmakeherfeeljudged.Nomoreofhisamusedsmile.Nomoreofhimrilingherupattheexacttimessheneededtoberiled.
Bethanyrealizedthey’dbeensittinginthedrivewayofhishouseforagoodminuteandcutofftheengine.HergazestrayedtoLauraintherearviewmirror,thendippedtowheretheredspothadbeenonherneck.Hissalvehaddonethetrick,hadn’tit?Butithadn’tjustbeenthemedicine.Afterthey’dbickeredinfrontofhistruck,she’dsimplylostthedesiretoattacktheareawithhernails.Herstresshaddippedtononexistent,becauseWeshadawayoftalkingherthroughhertensionwithoutherevenrealizingit.
Expectingperfectcanonlyleadtodisappointment.Besides,it’stheflawsthatgiveapersoncharacter.That’swherethebeautyhides.
OhGod.
Idon’tthinkIwanthimtogo.
“Elsa,canwegoinside?”
“Yes.”Bethanyshookherselfandexitedthecar,roundingthebumpertoletLauraoutofherboosterseat.Whenshe’darrivedattheschoolandrealizedsheneededacertainkindofchildseattolegallytransportLaura,she’dpanicked,butJudywaskindenoughtoletherborrowanextra.Bethanywasn’tevengoingtodeductpointsforthefossilizedCheeriosinsidethecupholder.“How’sthestrawberry?Iwouldhavepeggedyouforachocolategirl.”
“UncleWeslikesstrawberry,”saidthelittlegirl,hoppingoutontotheground,asifthatexplainedeverything.UncleWeslikedsomethingsoshelikedit,too.“Whereishe?”
WouldWeswanthisniecetoknowhermotherwasintown?Shewasn’tsure.Theyhadn’tspokenaboutit,soshesettledonalie,eventhoughitmadeherfeelyucky.“He’sworkingalittlelate,”shesaidbreezily,usingtheloosekeytoletthemintothehouse.“Whatdoyouusuallydoafterschool?”
“Ummm.IfLet’sColoriswatchingme,wecolor.”
“IseeUncleWeshasyouusingtheirillustriousnicknames.”
Lauragiggled.“Youtalkweird.Canwewatchinfomercials?”
“Um,sure.”Bethany’slipstwitched.“Isthatthenorminthishousehold?”
“Thewhat?”Lauraasked,crunchingintoherwafflecone.“UncleWeswatchesthemwithmewhenIwakeuptooearly.”
“Oh.”Somewhereintheregionofherthroat,herstupidheartwashavinganofficialsummitwithherovaries.Translatorsandminute-takerswerepresentandeverything.Abageltrayhadbeenordered.Itwasallveryalarming.“I’msurewecanfindsomeinfomercials.Myfavoritesarethejewelryones.”
Thelittlegirl’seyeswidened.“Likenecklaces?”
“Youlikenecklaces?”
“Yes!Idon’thaveany.”
“Well,wecertainlycan’thavethat.NexttimeIcomeover,I’llbringmycostumejewelryandyoucanpickone.”
Laura’sresultingsmilewasadisplayofpinkteethandconecrumbles.“AreyoumyUncleWes’sgirlfriend?”
“No!No,we’rejustfriends.”Bethanysetherpurseonthebackofthecouchandplayedwiththestraps.“Why?Didhecallmehisgirlfriend?”
“No,MeganandDanielle’smomdid.”
“Oh,didshe?”Bethanysmiled,filingawaythatinformation.“Isn’tthatswell.”
LaurafloppedontothecouchlengthwaysinanapparenticecreamcomaandBethanyscrolledthechannelsuntilshelandedonQVC,wheretheywereshowingoffanexquisitesolitaireperidotpendantinawhite-goldsetting.“Doyouhaveoneofthose?”Laurausedhertoetopointatthetelevisionscreen.“Iwantthatone.”
“Wehavesomuchincommon,”Bethanysaid,sinkingdownintothecouchandpromptlyfindingherselfwithapairoflittlegirlfeetinherlap.Itwasnice.
Verynice.
They’dbeenwatchingQVCforfifteenminutes,discardingtheirpreviousfavoritesforwhateverblingwasonthescreenseveraltimes,whenBethanyheardacarstopatthecurboutside.Itdidn’tsoundlikeWes’struck.Maybeitwasoneoftheneighbors?Withaprickleonthebackofherneck,BethanycarefullysetLaura’sfeetbackontothecushionandcrossedtothefrontwindow.
TherewasawomanclimbingoutofthebackofwhatappearedtobeanUber.Herhairwasunbrushedandsheworeaman’sflannel.Thoughhereyeswereshadowed,therewasnomistakingtheresemblancetoLaura.
Beckytrippedalittleonthepathonherwaytowardthefrontdoor,andBethanyknewsomethingwasoff.Wayoff.Bethanydidn’tknowalotaboutthiswoman,exceptthatshe’dbeenafosterchildlikeWesandhadn’tbeenabletocopewithraisingachildalone,atleastforthetimebeing.ShealsoknewthatBeckyhaduseddrugsbefore—andthatmeantshecouldbeusingthemnow.Inotherwords,sheneededtointerceptBeckybeforeshecameintothehouse.Noquestion.AtleastuntilWescouldgetthere.
Asquicklyasshecould,BethanyshotoffatexttoWesandopenedthefrontdoorwithoutmakingasound,slippingoutontothestoop.Shedescendedwiththebrightestsmileshecouldmuster,highlyawarethatthiswoman’sreceptionofhercouldrangefromfriendlytohostile.EspeciallyifshesuspectedBethanywasbarringherentrancetothehouse.Comeon,Wes.Gethere.
“Hi,”shesaid,tryingtokeephervoicelow,soLaurawouldn’thearthemfrominsidethehouse.“I’mBethany.”
Theotherwoman’sgaitslowed,suspicionblanketingherfeatures.“Thisismyhouse.Whatareyoudoinghere?”
“I’maguest.OfWes.”
“Oh.”Beckyrubbedhertonguealonghergums.“He’snothere,ishe?”
“No,hewenttopickyouup.”
SheavoidedBethany’sgaze,herhandsdisappearingandtwistinginthecuffsofherflannel.“I’mjustheretogetmykid.”
Thebiggerpicturecleared.“Youdidn’twantWestobeherewhenyoucame.”
“Idon’tneedtotalktoyou.Idon’tevenknowyou.”
“No,youdon’t,”Bethanysaidcalmly.“ButWesisonhisway.Whydon’twejustwaituntilhegetshere?”
Shecoughedintothecrookofherelbow.“Igotaplacetotakeher.”
Bethanycouldn’thelptheflameofangerignitinginherchest.BeckywasjustgoingtotakeLauraandgowithouttellingWes.Shewastryingherbesttohaveempathyforthiswomanwhowasobviouslygoingthroughsomething,possiblyaddiction,butshecouldn’thelpbutwanttorageonWes’sbehalf.Hewouldhavebeendevastated.
“Wesiscoming.Let’sjustwait.”
“Idon’thavetowaittogointomyownhouse.Toseemyownkid.”
“Ifyoudidn’twantWeshere,youknowthere’sareasonyoushouldn’t.”
Thatlogictookamomenttoinfiltrate,butwhenitdid,Becky’seyesfilledwithtears.Shestartedtoissuearejoinder,butWes’struckcameflyingaroundtheendoftheblock,brakinghardwheretheUberhadbeenmomentsbefore.
Hisattentionwaslockedonthewindowofthehousewhenheclimbedfromthetruck,reliefcrossinghisfeatureswhenhedidn’tseeLaura.HemusthaveputonhishatafterleavingProjectDoomsday,buthetookitoffnowandslappeditagainsthisthighrestlessly,asifunawareofthenervousgesture.“Whydidyouhavetodothat?”Wessaidfinally,addressinghissisterwithathickvoice.“You’reunfittoseeherifyou’replayingthesekindsofgames,Becky.Youleftmeinchargeuntilyousortedyourselfout.YoumademepromiseIwouldn’tleaveuntilyouhad.Youhaven’t.SowhatthehellamIsupposedtodo?”
“Idohavemyshittogether,Wes.”Shesniffedhard.“I’mlivingwithmyboyfriendinLinden.Igotajob.”
“Boyfriend,”heechoedindisbelief.“You’renotevendivorcedyet.”
“IfIcouldtrackhisassdown,Iwouldbe!”
“Keepyourvoicequiet,”hegrowled.“Shedoesn’tneedtoseeyoulikethis.”
“I’mfine.”
Laughingwithouthumor,hepacedinacircleandcameback.“YougotaroomforherinLinden?Babysitters?Haveyouenrolledherinschool?”
Becky’sexpressionwastheverypictureofawomantreadingwater.“I’m…I’mgoingtotakecareofallthat.Jesus.Givemefiveseconds.”
“Takecareofitfirstandthenwe’lltalk.”
“Youcan’tstopmefromseeingher.”
StrainappearedatthecornersofWes’seyes.“No,Ican’t.Butdoyoureallywanthertoseeyoulikethis?Ordoyouthinkyoucandobetter?”WessentBethanyapleadinglook.“Couldyougoinsideanddistracther?Please?”
“Yes,ofcourse.”Bethanywheeledaroundandstartedtowalkupthepath,butthenstoppedandlookedback.“Wes,couldyougivehermynumber?”shesaidforhisearsalone.“Nopressure.Ijustwanttohelp.”
Afteramoment,henodded,temporarywarmthmovinginhisface.“Yeah,darlin’.Iwill.”
Wesstaredintothesunkeneyesofhishalfsisterandhecouldseeherasshe’dbeenatseventeen.Lonely,unsureofherself,justwaitingfortheothershoetodrop.
Likehe’dtoldBethany,Beckyhadahardertimethanhim.Hesuspectedheonlyknewthehalfofwhatshe’dgonethroughwhilebeingwrungoutbythesystem.Bythetimehe’dmether,thedamagehadalreadybeendone.Tobothofthem.He’dbeentoojadedbyhisexperiencetoloveherthewayabrothershould.Theguilthe’dharboredoverthatmightevenbepartofthereasonhe’dgottenontheplanetoNewYork—andthankChristhehad.
NeverinhislifehadWesfeltlikehewasstandingintherightspot.Untilnow.
NotonlywithLaura.OrBethany.Orthefriendshe’dmadeinPortJefferson.
No,hewasmeanttobetherestandinginfrontofBeckyatthiscrossroadsinherlife.Thiswasn’tabouthim.Orhispain.Orlackofbelonging.Itwasbiggerthananyofthosethings.Andforonce,hewasn’tthinkingaboutskatingawayandavoidingentanglements.Thiswasit.Hewasgoingtolethimselfgettangledup.
Thecoolsweepofreliefinhischestonlyreinforcedhisdecision.
“Hey.”Whenhisvoiceemergedunsteady,hetookalongbreathandcenteredhimself.“Lookatmeandlistengood.”
Shecrossedherarmsandwaited,herstancebelligerentbuthereyesfulloftears.Damn,hehadn’tdoneenoughforher.Notbyadamnsight.Buthecouldchangethatnow.Hecouldstopusinghispasttoexcusehiscommitmentissuesanddigthehellin.
“You’remysisterandIcareaboutyou.”
Herarmsdroppedslowlytohersides
“You’reasurvivorandafighter,allright?You’regoingtocomeoutcleanontheothersideofthisandseeyourdaughteragain.Youdon’thaveachoice.Lauraneedshermother.Sheneedsyou,Becky.”
“That’swhyI’mhere,”shecroaked.
“You’reherebecauseyouloveher.Ofcourseyoudo.”Hesteppedcloserandputahandonhershoulder,visiblystunningher.Hadheeverevenhuggedhissister?“Look,thereisnotimelimitonmebeinghere.I’vegotLaurawhileyoufigureeverythingout.She’shappyhere.”
Hisniecewashappy…withhim.Itwasstillalmostimpossibletobelievethathe’dcomeheretotallyineptinallthingsfamily.Allthingschildren,love,and…permanence.Buthe’dcreatedstabilitywherenonehadexistedbefore.NotonlyforLaura,butforhimself.Jesus,hereallywasn’tgoinganywhere.Hewasinthis.Anditfeltright.
“Look.”WessqueezedBecky’sshoulder.“IfIcanfigurethisshitout,Becky,anyonecan.”
Thatgotawaterylaughoutofher.“Whoareyouanymore?”
“Yourbrother.”Heswallowedhard.“IknowIwasn’tagoodoneinthepast.Butyoucancountonmenow,allright?”
Emotioncloudedoverherfeatures.“IknewIshouldn’ttakeher.Ijustthought…it’sbeensolong.WhatkindofamotheramI,leavingherkidforoveramonth?”
“Youmadesureshe’dhavesomeonetocareforher.That’smoreconsiderationthanweweregivenalotofthetime.”
“Godknowsthat’strue.”Sheswipedcuriouseyes.“Whowasthatwoman?”
Wesconsideredthequestion.“Let’scallhermyreluctantgirlfriend.”
Theysharedanotherbittersweetlaughandforthefirsttime,heacknowledgedthebondthatlaybetweenthem.Anacknowledgmentthatwasalongtimecoming.Maybeitwouldchangethings.Hedidn’tknow,buthehadhope,andhewasprettysurethetwopeoplewaitingforhiminsidethehousehadalottodowithit.
Havingthatsafetynetgavehimthecouragetosaywhatcamenext.“Idon’tknowhowthesethingswork,butIcanfindoutaboutbecomingLaura’stemporaryguardian.Ifyou’reopentothat.Itwon’tbeforever,butIwanthertohavesomeproofI’mstayingaslongassheneedsme.IwouldhavekilledforthatwhenIwasakid,youknow?”
Hissistercastawistfulglancetowardthehouse,notspeakingforseveralmoments.“Ithinkthatcouldbeagoodidea.I’llthinkaboutit.”
Wesletoutthebreathhewasn’tawarehe’dbeenholding.“Becky…”Hehesitatedforamoment,thenpulledherintoahug.“It’sgoingtobeallright.”
Weswalkedthroughthefrontdoorofthehouse,sendingBethany’sheartintoamarathon.HewasaloneandBethanydidn’tknowwhethertoberelievedorsadaboutthat.ForLaura’spart,sheboundedoffthecouchlikeashot,squealingandskiddingtoahaltinfrontofheruncle.Withoutmissingabeat,hetossedherupintheairlikepizzadough,catchingheronthewaydowninahug.“Hey,kid.”
Shepattedhisbackwithstickyicecreamhands.“Hey.”
Therewasasmileonhisface,butwhenhemetBethany’seyesoverhisniece’sback,therewasunrestspinningintheirdepths.“Iwasn’tsurewhattodoaboutdinner,soIorderedpizza.Again.It’sontheway,”shesaid,herstomachfullofhelium.“Ishouldgo,”shebreathed,stuffinghercellintoherpurse.
“Wait.”WessetLauradownandruffledherhair.“Canyougowashyourhandsfordinnerandpickoutabedtimebookforlater?IneedtotalktoBethany.”
LauragapedatBethany.“Issheintrouble?”
“Naw,she’snotintrouble.”Hetappedhernose.“Goahead.”
“Okay.”
Thelittlegirlspedfromtheroom,slidinginhersocksassheroundedfirstintothehallway.BethanyremainedrootedtothespotbesidethecouchwatchingWesenterthekitchenandreturnwithtwobottledbeers.Heofferedheroneandshedeclinedwithaheadshake,waitingashedrainedhalfofhisown.Twiceheopenedhismouthtosaysomething,butcloseditandshookhisheadinstead.
Bethany’sfeetweremovingbeforeherheadissuedthecommand.ShestoppedinfrontofWes,pluckedthebeeroutofhishand,andsetitdownonthetable.Andsheputherarmsaroundhim.
Weswrappedherinsuchatightembrace,thebreathinherlungswasexpelledinagiantwhoosh.
“Ican’tleaveLaura,”hemutteredintothecrookofherneck.“Ican’t.”
Herfingersthreadedintohishair.“No,ofcoursenot.”
“Imeanever.”Heliftedhishead,emotionripplingalonghisjawline.“IputBeckyinanotherUberbacktoJersey.She’snotgoingtopushseeingherdaughterfornow,butevenifmysistergetsherlifeontrack,Ithink…”Self-doubtflickeredinhiseyes.“Lauraneedsme,right?”
“Yes.”
Heletoutahardbreath.“Ihavetostick,Bethany.”
Therewassomethingfamiliarinthewayhesaidthosewords.Theysoundedlikeeverysingletimeshe’dquestionedherowncapabilities.Ordonesomethingthatscaredher,likeflipahouse,planawedding,leadaJustUsLeaguemeeting,orbabysitachild.Sheknewthatrushoffearfortheunknownverywell,andshesuddenlyfeltconnectedtohiminawayshedidn’tthinkcouldbeseveredeasily,tothismanshe’donceloathed.Orthoughtsheloathed,anyway.Hadanyofhervitrioltowardhimeverbeenrealtobeginwith?
Bethanydidn’tknow.Sheonlyknewshewantedtosmooththejaggednessinsideofhimnow,thewayshe’dwishedwaspossibleforherselfsomanytimes.
“Wes,”shewhispered,leveringherselfuponhertoesuntilherlipslandedagainsthissurprisedones…andtheytrippedslowlyintoakissthatwasequalpartsvoraciousandpure.Honest.Helethimselfbekissed,letBethanyhumcomfortinherthroatwhilematingtheirtongues,letherfingerstwistinhishairanddraghimdown,beforehegruntedandtriedtoyankherupintohisbodyatthesametime.Hisarmswerestillaroundherasfarastheycouldgoandtheembracewassointimate,shecouldfeelhisentirebodypulse,hisinhalesandexhales,thethickswellsandsensualdipsofhismuscle.Couldsmellhissweatanddeodorant.
Thetempoturneddesperate,butherneedtogivesolaceneverabated,andshecouldfeelhimbeingundonebyit.AnditgratifiedherwhenWesreachedoutformore,attackinghermouthandtakingpossessionoftheunderstandingsheoffered.
Hisrighthanddoveintoherhair,grippingandanglingherfordeepertastes,hisbodybowingoverhersuntilshewasalmostbentbackward.God,itwasglorious,beingneededthisbadly.Needinginreturn.Beinginwordlessagreementandnothavingtoguesswhatamanwasthinking.Shekneweverythoughtinhisheadbecausehewasexpressingitwithhistongue,lips,andteeth.
Itgottobetoomuch,thepulsepointsthroughoutherbodyhammering,hermindreeling,herbalanceobliterated.Somuchfeelingdirectedatonepersonandshewasafraidofdefiningit,sosheforcedherselftoputanendtothekissandtheretheystood,stillwrappedineachother’sarms,franticbreathsfillingthescantspacebetweenthem.
“Isthatayestodrinks?”hesaid,finally.
Bethanypuffedalaugh.“Oh,nowit’sdrinks,plural?”
Hebrushedahandoverherhair.“Oneofanythingcouldneverbeenoughwithyou.”
Therewasavicioustuginhermiddle.“Isthatafact?”
“Damnstraight.”Henippedatherbottomlip.“I’llaskyouagain,isthatayes?”
Shedrewacircleonhischest,finishingwithaplayfulfingershove.“It’sanI’llthinkaboutit.”
Wesgrowled.“God,youmakemefuckingcrazy,Bethany.”Hepickedupapieceofherhairandtwisteditaroundhisfinger.“WhenIwalkedbackinhere,Ididn’tknowupfromdown.NowI’mhalfwaytosolid.How’dyoudoit?”
“Youshouldknow,”shewhispered,unabletolookhimintheeye.“You’vedoneitforme,morethanoncenow.”
Admittingthatwassoexposing,herbodybrokehisholdinvoluntarily.Thoughsheimmediatelywishedtobebackinhisarms,sheallbutdoveforherpurse,slingingitoverhershoulder.WhenshechancedalookatWes,hewastrackinghermovementswithsingle-mindedintensity.“Stay.”
“I…haveplans,”sheblurted.
Hiseyebrowtickedup.“Comeagain?”
“WithRosie.”Notthatherfriendknewaboutsaidplans,butBethanywasinsuddenneedoftequilaandgirltalk
Hegrunted,butdidn’trelax.Infact,therewerethoughtschurningbehindhisgaze.Amultitudeofthem.“IaskedBeckytothinkaboutgivingmeguardianship.OfLaura.”Shewasgivennotimetoprocessthatrevelation,becauseWesadvancedonher,notstoppinguntilherheadwastiltedbackandtheirfingertipswerebrushing,hisbreathfeatheringherlips.“I’mnotgoinganywhere.I’mheretostay,sowhenyougetinbedtonightandthinkofme,remembertochangethewayyoudoit.Insteadofthatonesweatysessionwherewebreaktheheadboard,I’dbeinyourbednightafternightafterfuckingnight,learningwhatmakesyourthighsshake.We’dhavetolosetheheadboardaltogether.”
Herearsturnedintowindtunnels.“Youdon’tmakethedesignchoicesinthisrelation—”
“Relationship?”hepromptedwhenshecutherselfoff,histonetriumphant.“Whenyou’rereadytosayitoutloud,I’llbewaitingrighthere.”
Catchyourbreath.“Withyourblueballs?”
“They’remoreofablackishpurpleatthispoint.”
“Ouch.”Thedoorbellrangandshetooktheopportunitytoescapehismagnetism.“Goodnight,Wes.”
Hegroaned.“Goodnight,Bethany.”
Bethanyopenedthedoortothepizzadeliveryguyandaskedhimtowait,unabletoresistafinalglancebackatWesoverhershoulder.Shefoundhispowerfularmscrossed,hairstillmussedfromherfingers.Somasculineinhisdirtyworkclothes,itshouldbeacrime.“Yourpizzaishere,”shesaid,hertonemoresuitedtoapoetryreading.
Hereachedforthewalletinhispocket.“Thanks.”
“Wes?”
“Yeah?”
Sheswallowedhard.“IfBeckysaysyes,you’regoingtodoanamazingjob.”
Amusclepoppedinhischeek.“Thankyou.”
Getoutofherewhileyoustillhavethewillpower.
Herreserveofthestuffwasrunningdangerouslylow.ChapterSixteen
EverytimeBethanywalkedintoBuenaOnda,somethingnewhadbeenwovenseamlesslyintotheatmosphere.Rosiewantedtherestauranttobeanexperience,andBethanycouldsafelysayshe’daccomplishedthattask.
Tonight,therewasastringoflights,anangledrughuggingthefloorboards,anewpictureonthewall.Onlyadecorator’seyewouldpickoutthechanges,theyweresosubtle,andtheambianceneverchanged.Itwasalwaysawarmhustle-bustle.Anoisywelcomethatshecouldsinkintoanddecidewhatjourneytoletthemenutakeheron.
She’dbeenrighttocomeheretonight.BethanyweavedthroughthetablestowardthebackoftherestaurantwhereRosiewouldbeputtingtogethertakeoutordersandsupervisingthekitchen,andthesparklingdepthswallowedherupinahug.ShewavedatDominicwherehesatathisreservedtable,sippingabeerandreadingtheeveningeditionoftheDailyNews.Severalpatronscalledouttoherorliftedtheirglass,not-too-discreetlywhisperinginherwake.
Nothingmalicious,justPortJeffgossip.Wellearned,too.She’dgiventhemquiteafewtopicstochoosefrombydefectingfromBrick&Morty,signingonforareality-showcompetition,andbeingcaughtaftersunsetatWes’shouse.Nottomentionpickinghisnieceupfromschool,adistinctlydomesticactivity.
RememberingthewayLaura’sfeetfeltinherlap,sheexperiencedsomehollownessinherthroat.WhatwereWesandLauradoingrightnow?Eatingpizzaandwatchinginfomercials?Itscaredheralittlehowbadlyshesuddenlywantedtoturnaround,leaveBuenaOnda,andgoback.
Inotherwords,shedefinitelyneededthebreak.She’dbeenaroundWessomuchduringtheflip,shewasduesomedistanceandperspective.Hewasgettingtoherinwaysshedidn’tanticipate.Fine,she’dalwaysbeenannoyinglyattractedtohimphysically,evenaftershe’ddecreedhimalow-downasshole.Whatwasshegoingtodonowthatthetruthhadsurfaced?Weshadmorelayersthanshe’dgivenhimcreditfor.Hewasslightlydamagedfromanunstablepast,funny,observant,andJesus,hecouldkiss.She’dnever,everexperiencedkissesliketheoneshe’dlaidonher.
Mostimportantofall,hewasastand-upman.MyGod.He’daskedforguardianshipofhisniecetonight,takingonachallengethatwouldscareeventhemostindependentadult.
Yes,Weswasbraveandfullofheartand…shereallyneededarealitycheckbeforeshedidsomethingstupidlikefallfortheman.
Afewyardsaway,Rosiepassedthroughtheswingingdooroutofthekitchenandintothestaffstation,anookbuiltbyherhusbandthatcontainedshelvesladenwithcutlery,coffeeparaphernalia,hotsauces,andothercondiments.ShedidadoubletakewhenshesawBethany.“Hey,stranger!Ihaven’tseenyousincethewedding,”Rosiesaid,stackingandorganizingwhatlookedlikecreditcardreceipts.“Howistheflipgoing?”
Bethanyclaspedherhandsbeneathherchin.“Amazing,ofcourse.I’mincharge.”
EventhoughBethanymadeherfriendlaugh,shedidn’tgetasmuchpleasureoutofitasusual.Becauseshewasn’tbeinghonest.Intruth,shelikenedthefliptoflyingdownrailroadtrackswithoutbrakes.Thatwouldshattertheillusionshe’dworkedsohardtocreate,though,wouldn’tit?Evenwithherbestfriend?
Inthespaceofseconds,she’dgonebacktobeingthewomanwhonevershowedasingleweakness.Thewomanwhohidbehindstyleandbravado,whowouldneveradmitshedidn’tknowhowthehelltheflipwasgoing.Westoldheritwasgoingfineandthey’dbeenseeingdailyprogress,butarrivingatthehazardousmesseverymorningmadeherstressandself-doubtflareup.Eachday,sheputherheaddownandfocusedonwhateverprojectshe’dchosen.Ithelpedtoputonblindersanddoonething,butsteppingbackandrealizingwhatamassiveundertakingshe’dshouldered?Itwashard.Shewasn’tcopingthewayshepresentedtothecameras.Shewantedeverythingperfectnow.Untilthen,theunfinishedmesswasareflectionofher.
Herfingerscrepttowardherneck,itchingtoattackthespotWeshadputsalveonearlierthismorning,butsheforceditdowntoherside.“Icanseeyou’reswamped,”shesaidtoRosie,wagglinghereyebrows.“Definitelyagoodproblemtohave,right?I’lljustgrabatableandifyouhavetimeforadrink,comejoinme.Nopressure!”
Rosiesmiled.“Okay.”ShecranedhernecktolookpastBethany.“Takethetwo-topbythewindow.I’llsendoverthewaitress.”
“Two-top.Lookatyouwiththerestaurantlingo.”
Withalittleshimmy,BethanyheadedbacktowardthefrontofBuenaOnda,winkingatthepeoplewhomshesuspectedwerewhisperingabouther.Hersmileremainedintact,butontheinside,amillionthoughtspingedaroundherskull.WeretheylayingoddsthatherbrotherwasgoingtowinFlipOff?Weretheycallingheracougarformakingtimewithatwenty-three-year-oldman?Couldtheyseeherlackofamanicure,thankstohergruelingnewgig?
Bethanycurledhernailsintoherpalmandtookaseatatthetableinfront,thankingthewaitresswhohandedheramenu.Thoughshewaspositiveherappearancewasserene,shewaskindofsweatingsittingalone,especiallywithallthewhispers,soshetookoutherphone—andfoundatextfromWes.Alaughtumbledoutofherbeforeshecouldstopit.
ItwasapictureofhimblowingonhiscreditcardwhileQVCadvertisedadiamondbroachinthebackground.ButthebestpartwasLauramid-cheeronthecouch,herdelightobvious.
Bethanypressedhersmilinglipstogetherandtextedback.
BETHANY:Alwaysholdoutfordiamonds.Thekidknowsherstuff.
WES:Thisisbad.She’snolongeracceptingCheeriosasbribes.IfIenduppromisingherjewelrytogetfivemoreminutesofsleeptomorrowmorning,you’reintrouble.
BETHANY:AmI?That’snotmycreditcard.
WES:You’llhaveacrankyforemanonyourhands.
BETHANY:Awww.Don’tbecranky.
WES:Howareyougoingtocheermeup?
Bethanycoughedquietlyandscannedhersurroundings,wonderingifanyonenoticedthewayshewaspressingherthighstogether.Thesetextmessagesweren’tevennaughty.Notreally,eveniftheyseemedtobeveeringinthatdirection.ButshecouldhearWes’sgruffTexasdrawlinherearandimaginehishandsmoldingherhips,cheatinglowertoherbutt,squeezing.
Seriously?Herpantieswerewetafterabrieftextexchange?
She’djustshoweredandputonfreshclothes.
I’mnotgoingtoanswer.
Bethanysmackedthephoneontothetable,facedown,butsnatcheditbackupbeforefivesecondshadpassed.
BETHANY:I’dtakecareofthosenastyblueballs,ofcourse.
WES:
BETHANY:Withallthatpaintlyingaround,Icantotallypaintthemanewcolor.
WES:Ifyouwerehere,I’dhavetospankyouforthat.
Herfingershesitatedoverthescreen,trembling.Shecouldn’treplyorshe’dsendbackgibberish.Thatwasallherbrainwascapableofproducingwiththatimageinherhead.Weslayingherfacedownoverhislapandwallopingherbottomwiththatwarm,callousedpalm
WES:Whyaren’tyouhere,Bethany?
Thatmessage,sodifferentintonefromthelast,struckatotallydifferentchord.Nowapangofyearningjoinedherdesireforphysicalcontact.WithWes.
Shemissedhim.Afteramatterofhours.
Bad.Thisissobad.
“Hey!”
RosiebouncedintotheseatacrossfromBethanyandsheyipped,fumblingherphoneandknockingovertheredroseflowerarrangementinthecenterofthetable.“OhmyGod,”shebreathed,rightingthevasebeforewatercouldleakoutandscanningtherestaurantforsignsthatanyonehadwitnessedherclumsiness.“Sorry.Ijustdidn’texpect
“HereIam,”Rosiesaid,watchingBethanywithabemusedexpression.“Youlookeddeepinthoughtoverhere.”
“Huh.”Shesnuckthephoneintoherpocket.“DidI?”
“Uh-huh.”RosiekeptaneyetrainedonBethanywhileorderingforthem.“Solet’stalkaboutSladeHogan.HecameinforlunchyesterdayandIthoughtthewaitressesweregoingtohyperventilate.”
“Ohyeah.”Bethanynoddedenthusiasticallyandtried,withoutsuccess,torecallthehost’sface.“He’sadish.”
“Worthyofendingyourmanhiatus?”
Bethanykeptrightonnodding.Untilshestartedshakingherhead.“No.”
Rosiearchedadarkbrowandleanedbackwithherjust-deliveredglassofwine.“Oh?”
“Hedidaskmeout.Ipassed.”
Herfriendgasped.Alittletootheatrically.“Whywouldyoudothat?”
“Icanseewhereyou’regoingwiththis.”
“Canyou?”
“Isthisthingwhereyouansweraquestionwithaquestionaproductofcouple’stherapy?”
Rosielaughedintohersipofwine.“Sorry.It’sjustthatIhearsomuchgossipbeinginthisplacealldayandyouandacertaincowboyhavecomeunderheavyspeculation.Iwantedtohearitfromyourmouth.”Sheshruggedanelegantshoulder.“Thatwasn’tgoingtohappenwithoutalittlegoading.”
Bethanysubduedhersmile.“You’vebeenspendingtoomuchtimewithmyfamily.”Shetappedhertragicallyunfiledfingernailsonthetable.“I’mneithergoingtoconfirmnordenythatthereissomethingworthspeculatingover.”
“Okay.”
Sheloweredhervoice.“Butiftherewas,IwouldneedassurancesthatthephraseItoldyousowouldnotbeuttered.”
“You’donlyhaveyoursistertoworryabout.Butsinceshe’sgoingtoreturnfromItalyinasexualstupor,you’vegotadecentshotatherlettingyouoffwithaloftysniffortwo.”
Bethanyhummed.“IguessIcandealwiththat.”
“Great.I’llinterceptGeorgiewhenshegetshome.”Rosierubbedherhandstogetherandleanedforward.“Tellthishornymarriedladyeverything.”
ThesuspensebuiltwhileBethanyunnecessarilystraightenedherfork.“Therehasbeensomekissing.I’mthinkingofsleepingwithhim.”
Rosiepickedupherclothnapkinandhidherfaceinit,butnotbeforeBethanycaughthergrinning.Whenshedroppedit,hercomposurewasbackinplace.“Oh?”
“Yes.I’mjustnotsureyet.”
“YouweretextingwithhimwhenIwalkedoverhere,weren’tyou?”
“Abouttheflip.”
“Constructiontalkreallygetsyougoing,huh?”
Bethanyclearedherthroat.“WasIthatobvious?”
Rosie’sgazemeanderedthroughtherestaurantandlandedonherhusband,who—predictably—wasalreadyhardatworkwatchinghiswife.“Onlytosomeonewho’sspentalotoftimetryingtorepresstheirsexualneeds.”
“There’sthattherapytalkagain,”Bethanysaidabsently,drawingapatternonthetable.“Let’ssay…andthisistotallyhypothetical…WesstayedinPortJefferson.”Shelaughedalittletoobrightly.“Andwanteda”—shemadeairquotes—“relationship.Wouldn’tthatbecrazy?Imean,woooo.Comeon.”
Rosiesetdownherdrink.“Whywoulditbecrazy?”
Bethanytriedtobeascasualaspossibletickingoffherfingers.“He’ssevenyearsyoungerthanme,hedoesn’thaveanycareerfocus—constructionisjustwhathe’sdoingnow.Imean,hewasabullrider.Andwefightallthetime.Itwouldbeacompletedisaster,starttofinish.”
Herfriendsaidnothing,simplywaitingforhertoelaborate.
“And…youknow,he’sjustnotthinkingthisallthewaythrough.”Hershoulderjerked.“Whywouldhewantarelationship—hypothetically—withsomeonewhocan’trelaxuntileverythingisexactlyperfect,butitneveris.Ever.Itwouldjustgetexhaustingforhim,beingaroundthatanxiousness.YouknowhowIam.”Shewavedahand.“Ilikethingsacertainway.”
“Yes,”Rosiesaidslowly.“ButIneverknewyousecond-guessedyourself.Youalwaysseemsoconfident.”
“Iam!”Shepickedupherwineglass,ignoringthedropsthatsloshedoverthesideontoherhand.“No,Itotallyam.Idon’tknowwhatI’mtalkingabout.Justthinkingoutloud.”Herthroatachedwiththeforcedlie.“So,tellme.Didyouaddanewstringoflightstotheceiling?It’sanamazingtouch.”
Rosiewasobviouslyhesitanttoletherchangethesubject,butrelented.TheywereabletostealafewmoreminutesbeforeRosiewentbacktowork,butlongafterherfriendleft,Bethany’swordshoveredoverthetable.Untiltonight,she’dneverrealizedhowfirmlyshekepthermaskinplace,evenaroundherbestfriend.Evenaroundhersister.Shehadn’trealizedituntilshe’dstartedallowingherselftobelessthanperfectaroundWes.
Ofcourse,he’dkindofrippedthemaskoff,butthatwassplittinghairs.
Thepointwas,she’dbeenadishonestversionofherselftonightandithadneverbeenmoreobvious.She’dneveractuallyconsideredarelationshipwithWes.Untilthey’dstartedworkingtogether,theveryideawouldhavebeenlaughable.Butnow?WhenBethanytriedtopicturethemtogether,asacouple,thevisionmadeher…warm.Hopeful.
Happy.
Butthosepositiveemotionsdidn’tkeepheroldfearsfromcomingbacktoroost.Wasn’tthereareasonshe’dgoneonamanhiatusinthefirstplace?
She’dpushedherpastboyfriendsawayforwantingtogettooclose.
Fordaringtoexpectmorefromher.
KnowingWeswouldwantmore,totalaccesstoherheart,mind,andbody—accessshe’dalwaysbeenafraidtogiveanyone—madeherwanttobackpedalbeforethingsgottoocomfortable.Toooptimistic.
Beforeexpectationswereformedforanormal,healthyrelationshipthatshehadnoearthlyideahowshecouldfulfill.Shedefinitelyneverhadbefore.
HowcouldWesbehappywithherwhenshedidn’tknowhowtobehappywithherself?DespitewhatBethany’sheartwastellinghertodo,shecouldfeelherselfshiftingbacktoheroldpatternswithmen.Ifshedidn’tletthingsgettooserious,hecouldn’tgetsickofher,right?
Alittletime,alittlespace,andWeswouldprobablythankherforkeepingthingscasual.Andthedisappointmentshefeltinherself?
Itwouldfadewithtime.Wouldn’tit?
Bethanyhopedthatonceshe’dhadaWes-freeweekendofrepeatingthemantrathatthedistancebetweenthemwouldgeteasierandshe’dstopsecond-guessingherselfthatshe’dactuallybeclosertobelievingit.Shedoubtedshewould,butnoonehadeveraccusedheroflackingastrongwill…ChapterSeventeen
Okay,folks,itisdayfourofthefamily-flipcompetitionFlipOff,andthebattleiscertainlyheatingup!We’reonthejobsitethathasbeenlovinglydubbedProjectDoomsday.”Wes’sthumbandforefingerdidtheirbesttocrushthebridgeofhisnose.Atleastifheendedupintheemergencyroom,hewouldn’thavetolistentoSladefuckingHogan’smade-for-televisionvoiceforawhile.
Outsidethewindow,Sladewalkedbackward,thecameramanandlightingandsoundguysfollowinghimtowhereBethanywas…Wait,wasshecarryingaladder?
Why?
Wesdidn’thaveaclue.
Asamatteroffact,hedidn’tknowadamnthinggoingoninherheadbecausetodaywasMondayandshe’dbeendistantwithhimsinceFriday.Everythinghadbeencominguproseswhenshelefthishouse.They’deventradedsomeflirtytextmessagesandhe’dthoughtthey’dwellandtrulyturnedacornerinto…coupletown.Oratleastapproachingit.Butallweekend,she’dbeenbusywiththeJustUsLeagueandantiqueshoppingforwhensheeventuallystagedtheflip.
He’dmissedher,buthehadn’tpanickeduntilcomingface-to-facewithheronthesitethismorning.Everytimehemoseyedinherdirectiontomakesmalltalkormaybegethimselfanotheroneofthoselife-alteringkisses,shesuddenlyhadtogopickupmaterialsormakeacoffeerun.He’djokedwithheraboutbeingacrankyforeman,butithadbecomerealityandhestill—still—hadfuckingblueballs.
WesthrewdownthepairofpliersinhishandandstompedoutsidetoseewherethehellBethanythoughtshewasgoingwithaladder.Unlessshewasplanningoncreatingsomekindofavant-gardelawnsculptureoutofit,hewasn’tsurewhysheneededone.Shewasscheduledtoworkonthecrownmoldingtoday,wasn’tshe?
ItwasaterribleideatoapproachBethanyinthisblackmood,especiallywhilethecameraswererolling,butamancouldonlytakesomuch.She’dkissedhimlikeamanoughttobekissedtheothernight.Thesweetnessofit,thewayithadfeltlikeapromise…well,ithadrockedhim.Rockedhimrealhard.Itdidn’tmakeanydamnsensethatsheshouldbeavoidinghimnow.Unlesssomethinghadhappenedbetweenthetimeshe’dtextedhimFridaynightandnow.Butwhat?
“Bethany,Iheardyou’vedecidedtoretiletheroof?”
AtthesoundofthatquestioncomingfromSlade’smouth,thecoffeeWesdrankthatmorningturnedtobitteracidinhisstomach.Bethanyontheroof?Shewasn’ttrainedforthat.Hadn’tgonethroughasafetycourseorevenacasualtutorialwithhimorsomeonewithconstructionexperience.Morethanonce,he’dworkedwithmenwho’dbeeninjuredinfallsfromroofsandladdersontheconstructionsite.ThethoughtofBethanyshatteringafemurorbreakingherbackbrokehimoutinacoldsweat.
“Yeah,”hesaidslowlyand,fine,maybeatouchsarcastically.“Mindifweputapininthatgeniusideafornow?”
Bethanyverycarefullysetdowntheladderandcrossedherarms.“I’msorry.Doesmyforemanhaveacomplainttovoice?”
“Yourforeman,”hesaidwitheringly.“Sure,we’llgowiththat.”
Twinsparksshotoffinhereyes.“Good.”
Wesreinedinhisfrustration.Whatthehellhadhappenedbetweenthemthathewasn’tawareof?Shealmostseemedrelievedtokickoffthisargument.“Let’sturnoffthecameraandtakeacoupleofhourstomakesureyouknowwhatthehellyou’redoing,allright?Idon’twantyoufallingoffthefuckingroof.”
“We’llhavetobleepthat,”calledtheproducer.
“Bleepit,then,”Wesspat.
“I’vewatchedplentyofroofsbeingtiled,”Bethanysaid.
WesclosedsomeofthedistancebetweenhimandBethany.Theyweresurroundedbyatleastthirtyothers,buttheymightaswellhavebeentheonlypeoplethere,foralltheattentionhepaidthem.“Watchinganddoingaretwodifferentthings.Eitherwedosometrainingoryoukeepyourfeetonthegroundwheretheybelong.”
Shesquaredhershoulders.“Youdon’tmakedecisionsforme.”
“Now,thereissometruthtothat,buddy,”Sladehadthestonestopipein.“Bethanyistheofficialhomeowner—”
“Jesus,Slade,”Wesinterrupted,massaginghisrighteyewithenoughforcetoblindhimself.“Youaretrulygettingonmylastfuckingnerve.”
“Bleep!”
“Wes,”Bethanygasped.
“It’sbadenoughI’vegottoworkwithcameracordsandspotlightsandSladeinmyway”—hisshoutlostsomesteam—“butIcandealwithallofthatifyou’reokay.”Itcametohimatoncethathe’djustrevealedalotinfrontofalargecrowdofpeople,nottomentiontwocameras.“It’salongfall,”hefinished,tryingtorecapturesomeofhisangrytone,butitdidn’twork.Bethany’sjawhaddroppedopenandsilence—foronce—hadfallenamongthecrew.
Bethanyrecovered,visiblyshakingherself.“I’llbecareful.Ollieisgoingtoshowmewhattodo.”
“Lord.Don’tdragmeintothis,”Olliesaidfromhishidingplacebehindthelightingguy.“Ididn’tthinkitwouldbeabigdeal.”
“It’snotabigdeal,”Bethanyenunciated.“Thankyouforyourconcern,butIcanmanagenottoplummettomydeath.”
Shehadtogoputtingdeathinhishead,sendinghisbloodpressuresky-high.“YougouponthatroofandI’llcarryyoudownovermyshoulder,Bethany.Youhearme?Tilingtheroofisnotajobforyou.”
Yet.Heshouldhavesaidyet.
HerreactionhadWesregrettinghiswordsimmediately.Thestubbornnessfledfromherbeautifuleyes,replacedwithbetrayal.Itwastoolateforapologiesortake-backs,though,wasn’tit?He’droyallyscrewedhimselfnow.ThehardheadedwomanwasbackedintoacornerinfrontofGodandeveryone.Shehadnochoicebuttocallhisbluff.
“Well…youknow.”Hervoicecracked,butshepatcheditfast.“Youwon’thaveasayifIfireyou.”
Asharpobjectgotstuckinhisthroat.“Isthatwhatyou’redoing?”
Fearcreptintohereyes,butsheblinkeditaway.“Yes,”shesaid,liftingherchin.
TheyspentagoodtensecondsinastaredownthatWeseventuallywon.
Butashestormedtohiscar,theacheinthecenterofhischestinsistedhe’ddefinitelylost.
Wesdidwhatanyself-respectingcowboydidwhenhehadwomantroubles.
Hedrownedhissorrowsinabottleofbrew.
OutlanderRingtonehadofferedtogivehimthenightoffsinceshe’dhadanafternoonreprievefrompickingLauraupfromschoolyesterday.He’djumpedonitimmediately.Hismoodwasblackandhedidn’twantitaffectinghisniece.
“Wantanother?”askedthebartenderonhiswaytoringuparound.
WeseyeballedhisemptybottleofBud,weighingtheprosofoblivionversustheconsofgettingasixo’clockinthemorningwake-upcallwhilenursingahangover.Wasthisparenthood?Constantlyhavingtodecideifahangoverwasworthit?Notonlythat,therewasthisicky,stickyguiltoverbeingoutinthefirstplaceurginghimtoturndownanotherbeer.Whydidhefeelguiltywhenthiswashisfirstnightoutinamonth?
Hell,itwasn’tevenninethirty.
“Yeah,”hemuttered,pushinghisemptybottletowardthebartender.“Thanks.”
Truthfully,he’dratherbeathomereadingLauraabedtimestoryinsteadoftakingupspaceinGrumpyTom’s,butsometimesamanneededroomtothink.Thatwenttripletonight.
Howhadeverythinggonetoshitsofast?
Hestillcouldn’tmakesenseofit.
ThreedayspriortobeingfiredbyBethany,they’dbeenrightthereontheedgeofsomethingmore.God,he’dbeeneagertogetthere,too.She’dbeensoclosetogivinginandsayingyestotheirdate.Hewasgoingtotakeherout,opendoorsforher,treatherlikeaqueen,andfuckhertohighheaven.
Nowhe’dlosthisshotandhisjob.
Hisworldhadturnedupsidedownfasterthanabullbuckinghimontohisass—andrightatthetimeheneededtohavehislifetogether.HewasseriousabouttakingguardianshipofLauraifhecouldgethissistertoagreetothearrangement.Wesdidn’thaveanynotionsofkeepingBeckyfromherdaughterforever,butwhilehewashercaretaker,hewantedtogiveherstability.Hedidn’twantherwakingupeverymorningwonderingiftodaywouldbethedayhelitoutofPortJefferson.
Whichbroughthimtohismostimmediateproblem.StabilityforLaurameantasteadyincome—andasofthisafternoon,henolongerhadthat.
Hecouldn’tblameBethany,either.Alldayhe’dbeenreplayingthesceneoutsidethehouse.God,he’dbeenanidiot.Bethany’swholereasonforwantingtoheadthisflipwastoproveherselfcapable.He’dtriedtorobherofanopportunitytofurtherherconfidenceinherself.Shit,hewasasbadasStephen.
AsifhisthoughtshadputupaStephenBat-Signal,themaninquestionwalkedintothebarafewminuteslater,holdinganothernoteinhishand.Deepinconcentration,Bethany’sbrotheralmostwalkedrightpastWes,buttrippedtoahaltbeforehecouldgettoofar.
“Wes.Whatareyoudoinghere?”
“What’sitlooklike?”
StephensettledintothestoolbesideWesandorderedaCoke,smoothinghiscrinklednoteoutonthebarwhilehewaited.“Ismysistergivingyouheadaches?”
Wesheldupahand.“Letmestopyourightthere.I’mnotheretogossiplikeamiddleschooler.”
“Ah,you’renofun.”
“Saysthemanwhoorderedasodainabar,”Wesdrawled,bottletohislips.“Iseeyou’vegotanothercrypticnotefromKristin.Whatdoesthisonesay?”
“‘Aftereverystorm,thereisarainbow.’”
Lord,thewomanwascertifiable.“Letmeaskyouaquestion,man.Haveyoujustcomerightoutandaskedherwhatthenotesmean?”
“Ican’tdothat.”Stephengapedathimlikehe’djustsuggestedtheystealacopcaranddodonutsinthetownsquare.“She’llbedisappointedinmeifIcan’tfigureitoutonmyown.”
“Butyoucan’t.”
StephenfacedWesonhisstool.“Oneyear,KristinknittedmesomesocksforChristmasandIdidn’treactwithenoughappreciation.Imean,theyweresocks.ButshegavemethesilenttreatmentstraightthroughNewYear’s.”HepoppedastrawintohisCoke.“Ifinallyfiguredoutwhatwaswrong.Turnsout,theywereexactreplicasofmychristeningsocks,rightdowntothelittleredcrossesontheankles.”
Wesknewhemustlookstupefied.Hewas.“Howthehelldidyoufigurethatout?”
“Mymothercameoverfordinnerandsawthem.Kristinhadleftthemoutonthemantel,butIwastoonaivetorealizeshewastryingtogivemeahint.”Henoddedasifthatexplanationwascompletelynormal.“Anyway,mymotherknewrightawayandcommentedontheresemblanceofthesocks.SoKristinthrewtheminthefire.”
“What?”
Stephenleanedin.“Shewantedmetofigureitout.”
WasthisLongIslandorMars?“Thatsoundedlikeahorrorfilm,butthankyou,Iguess.”
“Thankyou?”
“Yeah,”Wessaid,sippinghisdrink.“Myownladytroublesdon’tseemquiteasdauntingnow.”
“Iknewit.”Stephenwrappedsmuglipsaroundhisstraw.“Bethanyghostedyou,didn’tshe?Wasn’tsurehowshe’dmanageitsinceyou’reworkingtogether,butmysisterisresourceful.”
Goddammit.Whyhadbementionedtrouble?ThelastthinghewantedtodowaslistentoStephentalkabunchofnonsenseaboutBethany.Buthewasalsoonebeerdeep,heartsick,andconfusedaboutwhathadactuallyhappenedbetweenthem.He’dbeencaughtinaweakmoment.“Whatdoyoumean,sheghostedme?”
“That’sherthing.Shecastsherlineoutintothewater.”StephenmovedhisCokeasidesohecouldmimicfishing.“Themanbites.Andthenshethrowsthewholedamnrodbackintotheoceanwhilethepoorsuckerisstillattached.”
Thebackofhisneckprickledominously,buthescoffed.“Howlonghaveyoubeenworkingonthatmetaphor?”
“It’smymother’s,actually,andthere’smore,”Stephenresponded,squintingbackdownathisnote.“Sothere’stherodfloatingontheocean,themanishookedattheend,andBethanystandsontheboatblamingthefish.”
Wes’sentirelife,he’davoidedanykindoflong-termrelationships.Thisrightherewaswhy.Stephenhadclearlylosthisfuckingmindandwhatwastoblame?
Love.
Marriage.
Sure,Stephen’swifewasacompleteloonytoon,butWeswouldhavebeenstandingontheoutsidelaughingatthismannerofconversationafewmonthsago.He’dhaveridiculedStephenforlettinghimselfgetplayedlikeafiddle.Nowitwasn’tsofunny.Becausehewasthehookedfishandifheclosedhiseyes,hecouldseeBethanystandingatthebowofaship,watchinghimsink.
Yeah,she’dcaughthim,thatwasfordamnsure.He’dneverimaginedhowmuchhewouldlovehavingahookthroughhislip,either.Butthiswoman.Thiswomanhadmadehimearnhertrust,herrespect,herlaughter.Eachofthoseaccomplishmentsmadehimfeelmorecapableasaman.Apotentialpartnerforher.Someonewhocouldnotonlybeinalastingrelationship,butmaybeevenbegoodatit.
Washejustgoingtoswimoffnowwhenthey’dcomesofar?
No.Hewasgoingtojumpbackintothegoddamnboatandthrowtheroddownatherfeet.Letherknowhewasn’tgoinganywhere.She’dcaughtherselfaTexasmanandherefusedtosinklikethechumpsshe’ddatedbefore.Moreimportant,hewasgoingtofigureoutwhyshecontinuedtothrowthefishoutwiththerod.
Acrackofthundersoundedoutside,asiftheheavensapprovedofhisnewcourseofaction,andrainbegantopeltthewindowsofGrumpyTom’s.Thedownpoursentthesmokersscurryinginsideusingtheirjacketsasshelter.
Damn.
Theforecastdidn’tcallforrain.He’dcheckedasrecentlyasthismorning,tomakesuretherewouldbenobadweathercausingthemdelays.Backwhenhe’dbeentheforemanandhewaspaidtohavecontingencyplansinplace,anyway.He’dneedtodriveovertothejobsiteandputsometarpsontheroof.
Withasigh,hetookouthiswalletandsignaledthebartendersohecouldsettleup.“Ineedtogettothesite,”hetoldStephen.“Firedornot,Ican’tletallthathardworkgotowaste.”
StephenspitCokeontothebar,earningastonylookfromthesleepybarman.“Shefiredyou?”
“Yup.”
“Firstofall,welcomebacktothewinningteam,”Stephensaidmagnanimously.“Second,Idon’tknowwhyI’msurprised.ThisisclassicBethany.”
Wesflickedanirritatedwrist,sendingatwentyflutteringdownontothebar.“HaveyoueveraskedBethanywhyshepushespeopleawayordoyoujustbitchandmoanaboutitbehindherback?Maybethere’sagoodreasonshedoesit.Youeverthoughtofthat?”
“You’redefendingher?”Stephensputtered.“Shefiredyou!”
“Ipushedhertoit.It’sonme.AndIdon’twantbackonyourteam.”
Stephenstayedsilentamoment.“There’sobviouslysomethinggoingonbetweenyoutwoorshewouldn’thavepulledherparachute.”
Irepinchedhisnerveendings.“Oh,fuckoffwithyourmetaphors.Whatiswrongwitheveryoneinthistown?Noonecanjustsaywhat’sontheirminds?”Wespluckedthenoteupoffthebarandtosseditintotheair.“Yourwifeispregnant,youmoron.”
“Sheis?”
“Yes.AndI’msureheorshewillgrowupcompletelystable.”
ToWes’sshockandhorror,StephenlaunchedoffthestoolandthrewhisarmsaroundWes’sshoulders,cry-laughingnoisily.“I’mgoingtobeadad.”
Wessighedandpattedhimontheback.“Congratulations.”
Finally,Stephenpulledbackwithmoisture-filledeyes.AloudbeephadBethany’sbrotherdisengagingtopullhiscellfromhisfrontpocket,hisrapturousexpressionturningtoexasperation.“JustgotatextfromBethany.Shewantstoknowifastapleguniswaterproof.”HeflickedaglanceatWes.“Soundslikeshe’swayaheadofyouontheroofsituation.Youbettergo.”
Wes’shearttookanelevatoruptohisthroat.“What?Textherback.Tellhertowaitforme—”
Thephonebeepedagain.“Nevermind,”Stephenreadaloud.“Igoogledit.”
Wespropelledhimselfoutofthebarintotherain,visionsofBethanyslippingandfallingchillinghisblood.
Apparentlyonemorefightwasinorderbeforehewonherback.
Although,hadheeverhadherinthefirstplace?ChapterEighteen
Bethanyspitrainwateroutofhermouthanddidherbesttounfoldthetarpblind.Nomatterhowshepositionedherselfontheroof,therainseemedtoslantdirectlyintoherface,sosheplantedherfeetshoulder-widthapartandsarcasticallythankedMotherNatureforthisgloriouspieceoftiming.
Shewasnottooproudtoadmitsheshouldbeanywherebutarain-slickedroofduringastorm.Infact,shewouldevenhavegiventhejobtoWes,ifshehadn’tfiredhimintheboneheadmoveofthecentury.Butshe’dspentsixhoursonthatroofthisafternoon,herhandsweretorntoshit,herbackwassore,andsomethingfeltbrokeninsideofher.Soshewasgoingtosalvageherhardwork,dammit,andeverythinginthelineoffirebeneaththeleakswhileshewasatit.
Herrightbootslidalittlebit,butsherightedherstanceintimetogetthetarpopen.Goingdownonherhandsandknees,shespreadthebluecoveringandstapleditintoplaceasclosetotheroof’sedgeaspossible.Thewindandneedlelikeraindropsmadeitalmostimpossibletoseewhatshewasdoing,butsurelytheworstofitwouldbeoveranysecond?Theforecastsaidovercastthroughtomorrow.They’dallbeenliedto!Whowouldbeheldaccountable?
Shewasbeingdramatic,butwhatever.Shewassoakingwetonaroofbeneathafullmoonandthere’dbeenarockyturbulenceinsidehersincethatafternoon.Evenbeforetherainstarted,she’dbeenpacinginherlivingroom,unabletositstill.Thiswasn’tright.Sheshouldn’thavethisawfulforebodinginherstomachbecauseofaman.
Itwasneverlikethis.
Atworst,whenshedecidedherassociationwithamanhadrunitscourse,shefeltmildlypeevedwhentheydidn’ttryandgetbackinhergoodgraces.Notthatsheeverletthem.ButthechanceofWesdecidingshewastoomuchtrouble…itreallytrulyscaredher.
He’dhungintherethroughcountlesstradedinsultsandarguments.He’dwitnessedanearpanicattackatGeorgie’swedding.Hehadn’tevenflinchedattheuglymarkonherneck.Wouldtheblowshe’ddealttohispridebethefinalstraw?
Shehadn’twantedtofirehim.
HewastheZellwegertoherCruise.
Therewerefeelings.Shehadfeelings.
Bethanyadjustedthehoodofherjacketsotherainwouldstopdrippinginhereyesandsetaboutlayingoutthesecondtarp.Shesecuredonecorner,thencrawledslowlytowardtheoppositeendoftheroofasthebluetarpflappedinthewind.Thecoarsematerialoftheshinglesbitintoherkneesthroughherjeans,butshewelcomedthedistractingpain.
WhatwasitthatreallyscaredheraboutWesleavingthisafternoonandnotevenlookingbackonce?Theslamofhistruckdoorreverberatedwithsuchfinality.Itwasthesumofherfears,wasn’tit?Thataguywouldfinallyknowallthenegativethingsaboutherandleave.Isn’tthiswhatshe’dbeenavoidingforsolong?
Theproofthatshewasimperfect.
Bethanyswallowedhardandpickedupthepaceofhercrawl.Makingitacrosstheroof,sheappliedthefinalstaple.There.Done.
Still…maybesheshouldcheckforunsecuredopenings.She’dlostWestoday.Shewasn’tgoingtosacrificeallthehardworkthey’daccomplishedtogetheronthehouse,too.Theaddedblowwouldbeunbearable.Justafewmoreminutesanditwouldbeperfect—
“Goddammit,Bethany!”
Wes?
Shetwistedtowardthesoundofhisvoice,thoughshecouldn’tbesurewhereitwascomingfrombecausethewindwassostrong.Assoonasherheadturned,therainlashedherinthefaceandsheflinched,droppingthenailgun.Shetriedtosnatchforitblindly,butmissedandlostherbalance.
Bethanyslidonthepartoftheroofthathadn’tyetbeentiled,ascreamrippingfromherthroat.Therewasanunnervingmomentofclaritywheresherealizeddeathwasimminent,rightbeforeherbodywentsailingovertheedge.Inasuddenburstofself-preservation,herfingerscaughtontheancientraingutterandclung,butjustlikeeverythingelseattachedtothehouse,itwastoooldtobeviableandasnappingsoundwasheronlywarningbeforeitgave,leavingBethanydanglingfromtheedgeofthebrokengutter.
“Wes!”
“I’mhere.I’vegotyou,baby.Letgo.”
“Ican’t.Areyouinsane?”
“Iwon’tletyouhittheground,youknowthat.”Hisvoicewasstrongerthanthestorm,tunnelinginsideherandputtingdownroots.“Comeon.I’vegotyou.”
Itwasthebiggestleapoffaithshe’devertaken.Perhapssheneverwouldhaverealizedthatshedid,infact,trustWes—maybemorethananyone—ifshewasn’tdanglingfromtherooflikeasoddenmonkey.Butshewholeheartedlytrustedthathewouldcatchherandsheletgowithasqueak.Hisarmsbandedaroundherasplitsecondlater,herbodycollidingwithhishardone,andWesstumbledbackapace.Hepositionedhermoresecurelyagainsthischestandthenhewasmoving.
Bethany’sviewofWes’sfacewasobscuredbythehoodofherrainjacket,butshesawhislegstrikeoutandkickopenthedoortothehouse.Hestompedthembothinsideandsetherdowncarefullyinthepitchblack,leavinghertoshiveranddripontothefloor.Amomentlater,oneofthehanginglightscameonacrosstheroom,illuminatingWes—andwow,hewaspissed.
Themasculineplanesofhisfacewerehighlightedononeside,blanketedbythedarknessontheother.Hisbreathswereharshanduneven,joiningthepeltingrainastheonlytwosoundsintheroom.Besidesherheartbeat,thatwas.Thesightofhimwassowelcome,herheartseemedtobebeatingevenharderthanithadbeenwhilesuspendedfromthegutter.Sheopenedhermouthtosaysomething,butnothingwouldcomeout.Whatcouldshesay?Thisbuildupinsideofherwassounusualanditached.Shehadnoideawhatkindofwordsitwouldproduce.
Weshadnosuchproblemfindingsomethingtosay.
Hetookoffhisdrenchedhatandthrewitacrosstheroom,whereitslappedoffoneoftheonlyfinishedwallsinthehouse.“Goddammit,Bethany.Ofallthestupid—”Hepressedafisttothecenterofhisforehead,slowinghisbreathing.“I’mrehired.Simpleasthat.Ifonlytokeepyoufromkillingyourselfbybeingstubbornasshit.Andit’spermanent.Youcanhauloffandfiremeasmanytimesasyouwant,baby,butI’mgoingtoshowupeverymorninglikeitneverhappened.Dealwithit.”
Awarmcloakofrelieflandedonhershoulders,wrappingtight.Theassurancethathewouldkeepcomingback,eveniftheyfought,evenifshefreakedoutanddidsomethingsheregretted…God,shewasalreadybreathingeasier.Likeshe’dhadasandbagonherlungsuntilnow.Herkneesstartedtoshake,notfromweakness,butwiththeneedtogotoWes.Shedidn’tquestiontheimpulse;shedidn’thavethewillpowertoquellitthistime.Notafterhe’dshownuphere,notafterhe’dcaughthermidair,notaftershe’dmissedhimsomuch.
BethanywalkedstraightintoWes’sbristlingframeandwrappedherarmsaroundhisneck.Shewasgratefulfortherainstilldecoratingherfacebecauseitcamouflagedthewarm,saltytearsthatfellfromhereyes.
Hisarmswrappedaroundhertightlyandherkneesstoppedshaking.
“Whydidyoucome?”sheasked,layinghercheekonhisrightpec.
“Toputtarpdown,sameasyou,”heansweredgruffly.
“EventhoughIfiredyou?”
Hegruntedandheldhertighter.“Youdidn’twanttofireme.”
Bethanyshookherhead,afewmoretearsescaping.“No.”
“It’sbehindusnow,”hesaid,swayinghersidetoside.“Andifyougetpissedatmeagaininacoupleofdaysandweargueorstormofftolickourwounds,we’llputitbehindusthen,too.”
“Howmanytimescanyouputsomethingbehindyou…beforeallthoseincidentscrowdyououtthedoor?”
“We’reinconstruction,darlin’.We’lljustbuildanadditiontomakethemfit.”
Atthat,BethanyteeteredandfellmessilyintolovewithWes.Notonlybecauseshebelievedwhathesaidandthesentimentmadeherfeelsecure,possiblyforthefirsttimeever.Butalsobecausehe’dsaidwe
We’reinconstruction.
Wesliftedherchinandwasvisiblyguttedbythesightofhertears.“Aw,Bethany.”Hebrushedthemaway.“Noneofthat,please.Ican’ttakeit.”
“It’sjustrain,”shesaid,unevenly.
“Sure,I’llplayalong.”HisfingerstracedtheirwaydowntoBethany’slipsandhungerdarkenedhiseyes.“We’regoingtomakeagoofthis,youandme.”
“Areyouaskingortellingme?”
Humorreshapedhismouth.“Allright,I’masking.”
Bethanyhesitatedinthefaceoftheunknown.She’dneverbeeninarelationshipwithsomeoneforwhomshe’dfeltthismuch.Asmuchasshe’dstartedtrustinghim,theproblemwasshedidn’tknowifshetrustedherself.HerpatternswithmenhadneverbeensoobviousaswhensheemployedthemwithWes.Someoneshe…ohGod,loved?Ifshemessedthisup—andtheoddswere,shewould—itwouldfeelliketodayhad,butinperpetuity.
Worstofall,sheriskedhurtingWes.Rightnow,thatseemedsomuchworsethanactingasherownworstenemy.
Wessawherhesitationandvisiblyregrouped.“Wecantakeitslow,allright?”Henoddedonherbehalfanddroppedhismouth,leavingitaninchabovehers.“Butyou’renotgoingtoavoidme.I’mnotgoingtostaywhereyouputmeandwaitforattention.”
“No?”shemanaged,wettingherlipsforthekissthatwouldsurelycomeanysecondnow.Sheneededitsobadly.
“Uh-uh.WhenIwantattention,I’mgoingtoletyouknow.”
“How?”
Oneofhishandshadbeenslowlyundoingthebuttonsofherrainjacket.Hepushedthesidesopennowandyankedherdrybodyupagainsthissoakedone,tiltinghishipsandbreathingintohermouthatthesametime.“How’sthis?”
Abarrageofarousal-tippedarrowshittheirtargetbeneathherbellybutton,piercingherwithblissandsexualfrustration.God,she’dtriedtoignorehowmuchthismanturnedheronforsolong.Nowthatshe’dgivenherselfpermissiontoembracewhathedidtoherbody,herneedwasevenmorepotentthansherealized.BethanywiggledherhipsagainstWes’sdistendedfly,bitingherlipoverthewayhegroaned.“Thisisyourwayofshowingmeyou’rewillingtogoslow?”
“Imeantit,”herasped,cradlingherhipsindesperatehands.“BethanyCastle,mydickhasbeenhardforyousincethatfirstmorningyouclimbedoutofyourMercedesatthatjobsite.Allbusiness,notimeforanyonetostepoutofline,especiallyme.”Helickedintohermouth,butdidn’tkissher,thesmoothfrictionofhistonguecausingamelting-buttersensationbetweenherthighs.“Beenwantingtoproveyouwrongeversince.You’lllovemakingtimeforthewayIstepoutofline.ButI’msmartenoughtoknowwaitingwillbeworththepayoffoffinallyhavingyounakedwithyourthighsopenunderneathme.”
Oh,brother.Onasurgeoflustlikeshe’dneverknown,shepresseduponhertoesandkissedhim.Hercoreclencheddramaticallyoverthewayhejerkedherhigherwithonearm,shovingthejacketoffhershoulderswithhisfreehandbeforebringingittoherassandkneading,kneading,histouchslowandpossessive.
“Howfarcanwetakethisandstillgoslow?”shegasped,lettingherheadfallbacksohecouldsuckandnibbleonherneck.
“Longasyouletmegivethisbodywhatitneeds,Icanremembertheboundariestomorrow,”hemutteredintoherhair.
Whatifmybodyneedseverything?Rightnow?
Anditdid.Herfemininefleshwasthrobbinganditwastakingallherself-controlnottowrapherlegsaroundhishipsandgrindonhimuntilshehitherpeak.Unbelievably,though…shewantedtogivehimfulfillmentevenmore.Thewayhe’ddoneforherinhisbackyard,withouttakinganythinginreturn.Knowinghowlonghe’dspentwantingherfromadistancemadeherdesperatetogivehimrelief.TheremightevenhavebeenapartofBethanythatwantedtoapologizeforscaringhimwhileupontheroof.Whetherthatmentalitywasrightorwrong,itstokedtheflamealreadyflickeringwildlyinsideofher.
Beforeshecouldsecond-guessherself,BethanytookholdofthewetlapelofWes’sbutton-downflannelandwalkedhimbackward.Hebroketheirravenouskiss,anticipationlightinghiseyes.Hecouldn’tquitebelievehisluckandletherseehishumblegratitude.Hisawe.Hiseagerness.
Whentheyreachedastackoffullcementbags,BethanyteasedWes’smouthwhileunbucklinghisbeltandloweringhiszipper.Hisfastbreathscouldbeheardoverthestormnowandtheyfilledherearswithasexysoundtrack.Shereachedintohisbriefsandcircledahandaroundhisthickerection,lovingthechokedsoundhemadewhileshestrokedithard,nippingathisstubbledjawline.“You’retoohugeforthesefittedcowboyjeans,Wes.”
Hewatchedherhandmove,amusclepoppinginhischeek.“YoureckonIshouldswitchtosomethingelse?”
“No.”Bethanyjackedhimfaster.“Ididn’tsayIdidn’tlikethem.”
“Baby,baby,baby.”Hecaughtherwrist,pushingthroughclenchedteeth,“I’veonlygotabouttensecondsleftofthat.”
Apulseboomedinherears.Shewascompletelyandutterlyabsorbedbythismoment,theoutsideworldandherusualinsecuritiesbedamned.Hermakeuphadbeenwashedawaybytherain,herhairwasacatastrophe—andshedidn’tevencare.Noneofitmatteredwhenshewasbeingtouchedbythisman.Howwassuchahugereversalpossible?Theremighthavebeenatrickleofnervesthatshewasn’tgoingtoliveuptohisprolongedexpectations,butitwasawhispercomparedtowhatwasusuallyaroar.
SheeasedherwristfreeofWes’sgripandworkedhisjeansdownpasthiships,leavingthemgatheredathisknees.Oh.Holyhell,thethighs.She’dneverseenhisthighsoutintheopenlikethisandtheywererugged,muscular.Theybelongedoneithersideofahorse’sbackorinoneofthosedustyWranglerads.Forgetcrushingawalnutbetweenthem,hecouldsnapaloginhalf.Therewasenoughhaironthemtomakeherblush,tomakeherweak-kneedforthechancetofeelthetickleofitonhercheeks.Andwiththatwickedvisioninherhead,Bethanywentdownonherknees.
“Ah,Jesus,you’rereallydoingthis,”Wesgrittedout,wrappingthehemofhisT-shirtinhisfisttogiveheraccesstohisstrainingmanhood—whywasthatsohot?“Ishouldn’tletthishappen,butthatmouthofyours,Bethany.Thatfuckingmouth.Icoulddrawitfrommemory.I’ddietowatchittastemycock.”
HiswordsheapedcoalintothealreadywildfireinsideofBethany,hisadmissionstealinganyremainingtrepidation.Howcouldshebeself-consciouswhenhewantedhersobadly,helookedlikehewasinpain?
Thosethighscalledtoherandshetookhertimekissingtheroughinsidesofthem,grazinghimwithherteethandsoothingthestingwithlong,thoroughlicks.Assheswitchedtotheotherleg,shefistedhiserectioninherhandandpulledhimoffloosely,needinghimtosavortheexperience,thewayshewasdoing.
Finally,shereachedthetopofhernibblinghikeuphissinewythighs,treatinghimtoamomentofblisteringeyecontactbeforewrappinghertonguearoundthebaseofhisshaftasfarasitwouldgo,dragginghermouthtohisengorgedhead.
Wesfellbackonthestackofbaggedconcrete,thefingersofhisrighthandburrowingintoherhair.“Bethany.SweetChrist.Whatareyoudoingtomewiththatprettymouth?”Sheperformedthemoveagainandhisabdomenplummetedandflexed.“Ahhh,fuck.Tryingtoholdon,baby,butI’mhurting.”
Talkaboutapowertrip.Whoknewitwaspossibletofeelworshippedwhileonherownknees?Butthat’sexactlyhowitfelt.Insteadofdoinghimafavor,Weswaspayinghomagetohermouth.She’donlygottenstarted,too.
Bethanyclosedhergriparoundhishardsexandpumpedherfist,trailinghertonguethroughhissensitiveslit.Whenhishipsshotupofftheconcretebags,hisstrangledshoutechoingthroughtheemptyhouse,Bethanysunkhermouthdownasfaraspossible,untilshecouldfeelherthroatrejectinghisamplesize,thensuckedherwayuptothetip—hard.
Wesraspedhernameonce,twice,hischestshuddering,andhelosthimselfinhermouth.Lord,itwasthesexiestmomentofherlife,thewaytheheelsofhisbootsscrapedonthefloortryingtofindpurchase,thefervorwithwhichheclutchedthestrandsofherhair,hisstrainingthighs.Ifevertherewasamomenttobelieveshecouldorgasmwithouttouchingherself,thiswasit.Weswastheorgasm.
“OhmyGod,”hesaidinbetweenheavedbreaths.“OhmyGod.”BethanyyelpedwhenWeshauledherupontohislapsideways.“Allthistime,I’vebeensosmugknowingI’mgoingtorockyourworldandthenyoujustgoaheadandrockmine.Notevenapolitewarning.”
Alittlebutterflydancedaroundinherbelly.“Areyouwaitingforanapology?”
“Hellno.”HebrushedahandoverBethany’sheadandcuppedhercheek,anunfamiliarlightinthoseeyesthatconsumedherface.“I’mwaitingtowakeup.”
Intimacy,thekindwhereshelookedintosomeone’seyesandexperiencedunfilteredgenuineness,wasterrainshe’dneverwalkedbefore.Itwasn’taskillshe’dmastered,soshestartedtoflounder.“Well.”Shestraightenedandlaidahardkissonhischeekandthenstartedtorise.“Don’tthinkyou’regoingtogetspecialtreatmentatworktomorrow—”
Wespulledherbackdownontohislap.“Wheredoyouthinkyou’regoing?”
“I’m—Home,”shesputtered.
“Isthatso?”hedrawled.
“Hmmm.”
“No.”
“No?”
Hispalmcoastedupherinnerthigh,slowingwhenhereachedhercenter,placingtwofingersoverthesoakedseamofherjeansandrubbing.Firmly.Confidently.EveryiotaofoxygeninBethany’slungswhooshedoutofher,lustturningthecornerontwowheelsandroaringdowntheavenue.ShecouldonlyclosehereyesandletWesunzipherjeans,slidinghishandsinsidethedenim,aswellasherpanties.
Whenhisfingersmadecontactwithherwetness,herhipshitchedonamoanandheatflaredinWes’sexpression.“Stillwanttoleave?”
“No.”
Heshookhishead.“No,youdon’t.Youdon’twanttoleavemysightwhenyou’rethisrevvedup.”Hismiddleandindexfingerpartedherlipsandteasedherclitwithatightcircle.“NotwhenIcanmakeitsomuchbetter.”
Herneckblewafuse,headfallingback.Wes’stouchleftherbrieflytostripherjeansandpantiesoff,andthenshewasnakedfromthewaistdown,drapedacrosshislap,inthemiddleoftheirjobsite.Notthatshecouldfindthebraincellstocareatthatparticularmoment.Thethingshewasdoingtoherwithhisfingers…itwasasthoughWescouldactuallyreadherreactionsandinterprettheminawaythataffordedhermorepleasure.Kindofliketheobjectofsex,butthismanactuallydidit,andhisperceptivenessontopofheralreadymonstrousattractiontohimhadBethanysohot,herskinwouldsurelysingeiftouched.
“Bethany…Jesus,lookatyou.Howareyousofuckingbeautiful?”
Wesworkedherswollenbuttonoffleshbetweenhisknuckles,chucklingwhenherbackarched.Hecutoffhisownlaughterbybendinghisheaddownandlickingthetipsofherbreaststhroughhershirt—andthen.Oh,thenhebitdownonanippleandtwistedhismiddlefingerupinsideofher.Atthesametime.
Deep.
“Wes,keepdoingthat,”shesaidhoarsely.“Keepd-doingthat.”
“I’lldoanydamnthingyouneed,”hegroaned,addingasecondfingerandrakinghisteethsidetosideoverhersensitivenipple.“Youwanttofuckmyfingers,darlin’?Moveyourhips.Movethemaroundonmylapandfeelhowhardyou’vealreadymademydickagain.”
Herbodyfollowedhisinstructionsbeforehermindgotthechance,herbacksidewrithingonhislapandenjoyingtheplumpridgeofhisarousal.Easy.Decadent.Untilitbecameurgentthathisfingersstrokeherdeeper.Withherpulsepointsgoingofflikelittlealarms,Bethanyworkedherhipsintimewithhisbigfingers.Theyslidinandoutofher,fasterandfasteruntilshealmostcouldn’tstandtheoncomingpressureofimminentrelease.Itbuiltaroundher,thewayanorchestramightduringapieceofmusic’screscendo.
“Wes,”shecriedout,clutchingatthefrontofhisshirt.“I’m…yes.Yes.”
Theclimaxrippledthroughhermiddleandsqueezedhermuscles,blewembersathernervesuntilshesworeshewasonfire.Wespressedthepadofhisfingertoasecretspotinsideofherandrubbedtherewithquick,suremovements,brewingascreaminthebackofherthroat.
“Goon,doit.YoufuckingscreamifImakeyouscream.”
Shedidandthefreedomofitmadeherorgasmluminousandexpansive,likeshecoulddivethroughitanddisappear.Maybeshedidforafewmoments,becausewhensheopenedhereyesagain,therewasonlythesmellofWes’sneck,thefeelofhisarmsaroundher,thoughshehadnomemoryofhimpullingherclose.
“Okay,so…”hebegan,hisvoicescratchy.“We’lltakeitslowstartingnow.”
Bethanylaughed,afull,spontaneoussoundthatwasnothinglikeherusualone.Itwasn’ttemperedormoldedintowhatshethoughtaprettylaughshouldsoundlikeandasaresult,itloosenedsomethingthathadbeenunknowinglystuckinsideofher.Wes’sfacesoftenedatthesoundandshefelt…lighter.
Withoutwarning,WessurgedtohisfeetwithBethanystillinhisarms.“It’syourfaultforbeingsoirresistible,”hesaid—andpromptlyblewaraspberryintoherneck.Bethanywasstillslack-jawedwhenhesettledherontoherfeetandgaveherbareassaplayfulsmack.“You’veconvincedmetoforgiveyouforfallingofftheroof.”
BethanyscrambledtogetdressedandnotogleWes’srock-solidbunsbeforetheywinkedoutofsight,backinsidetheirhouseholdofdenim.“Soweshouldmaybe,um…figureoutsomegroundrules.”
“Nope.”
Sheblinked.“Excuseme?”
“Nogroundrules.I’lltrynottomaulyouonthejobsite,butafterhours…”Heregardedherforafewseconds.“Justdowhatcomesnatural.”
“Ihavenoideawhatcomesnatural,”shewhispered,herfingerstingling.
Hecameforwardandkissedhersoftlyonthemouth.“Figureitoutwithme.”ChapterNineteen
Balancingatrayofnachos,popcorn,andcottoncandy,WesandLauramadetheirwaydowntheconcretetunneltowardthesoundsofTravis’samplifiedvoice.ItboomedovertheloudspeakerinBombersStadiumandifWeswasn’tmistaken,therewasanextralayerofsmugnessintheex–professionalbaseballplayer’stonethisbriskWednesdayevening.Understandable,sincethemanwasfreshoffhishoneymooninItaly.
UntiltheremindercameuponWes’sphonethismorning,he’dforgottenaboutthecomplimentaryticketsTravishadgivenhimfortonight’sgame.SinceneitherWesnorLaurahadeverbeentoabaseballgameandtheflipwasonschedule,he’dpoppedahatonherhead,bundledherup,andheadedtotheBronx
Theysidesteppedtheirwaydownthepackedrowandtookseatsoverlookingthethirdbaseline.Outontheexpansivegreenfield,thegamewasalreadyinfullswing,theBombersinnavypinstripes,theiropponentinteal.Abaseballgamewasnothinglikearodeo,buttheenergyofthecrowd,theswelloftheirperiodiccheers,broughtWesbacktothebull-ridingarenasofthenot-so-distantpast.
Didhemissit?
HeglancedoveratLaura,whowasdevouringacloudofpinkcottoncandy,andlaughedunderhisbreath.No,hedidn’tmissthepast.Therewasadefinitebittersweetsparkinsideofhimknowingthosedaysmightnevercometopassagain.Thelackofresponsibility,thespontaneity.Thecut-and-runmentalitythatkepthimclearofanyhurtordisappointment.He’dlookbackonthatwildexistencewithfondness.Butwhenhethoughtaboutbandagingupinjurieswroughtbybeingthrownfromthebackofabull,heonlyappreciatedwherehesatnowallthemore.
Takingcareofthiskidcouldbethebiggestadventureofall.
Diditscarehim?Fuckyes.
Hell,ifhewasn’tnervousaboutpotentiallyraisingadaughter,he’dneedtogethisheadchecked.
Hisniecehadbecomeapartofhislifethatcouldn’tbecarvedout—andshewasn’ttheonlyone.NowtherewasBethany.
Yes.TherecertainlywasBethany.
WesslippedhisfountainPepsioutofthecupholderandtookanicy-coldswallow,orderinghimselfnottothinkaboutMondaynight.Notinpublicsittingbesidehisniece.He’dhavetowaituntiltonighttorememberthewayBethanyhadlookedupathimfromherknees.
Heremovedhishatandswipedahandthroughhishair,mutteringtohimselfaboutwaywardthoughtsandrecklessblondeswhofelloffroofs.Christ,she’ddamnnearsenthimintocardiacarrestwhenshe’dlostherbalanceandslidovertheedge.He’dstillbeinthathouseyellinghimselfhoarseifshehadn’tshockedhimintosilencewiththathug.Ifshehadn’tlookedupathimwithherhugeblueeyesfulloftearsandreliefthathe’dcomeback.
Ohmama,hewasindeep.
Deepastheoceanfloor.
Sodeepitscaredhim.Buthecouldnot,underanycircumstances,letitshow.Becausetheycouldn’tbothbeterrified.Oneofthemhadtobepositivetherelationshipwasgoingtowork,despitetheirdifferencesandtendenciestoavoidlastingcommitments.Oneofthemhadtobetheweightontopofthestackofpapersblowinginthewind.SoitwouldbeWes.
Hewouldnotletherdoubt.
Asforhimself,hewaswalkingunfamiliarterrainandwasn’ttotallyconfidentinhisabilitytocatchasnaginthelinebeforeitturnedintoanissue.He’dneverfeltthiswayforsomeone.Nothinghadevercomeclosetothistightsensationinhischest.Urgencytohavehernearby.Thedrivetoseeher,talktoher,holdher.Therewasnooutletorrelief—itonlybuilt.
Wasn’tlovesupposedtobeaeuphoricrushofmoonbeamsanddandelions?HisrelationshipwithBethanywaskindoflikewalkingthroughaminefield,butontheothersidewasthethinghewantedmost.Her.Hertrust.Herlove.
Yeah,helovedher,allright.
Otherwisehewouldn’tbeopeninghimselfuptowhathe’davoidedhiswholelife.Beingaquickstoponthewaytosomeone’srealforever.He’dgonethroughitmanytimesgrowingupandhewasonlystartingtoacknowledgethetollithadtaken.Bethanywasdamnwellworthfacinghisfears,though.Thefaithshe’dslowlybutsurelyputinhimmadeWesfeelmoreequippedtofightforLaura,too.Soshe’dneverhavetoexperiencethesamehollownesshe’dgrownupwith.
Wessighedathisniece’sstickyhandsandsatforwardtopullaZiplocbaggieofwetwipesoutofhispocket,handingherone.“How’sthecottoncandy?”
Herwidesmilerevealedarowofpinkteeth.“Good.”
Helaughedandtookouthisphonetosnapapicture,noticingforthefirsttimethathehadavoicemailfromanunknownnumber.Intuitionblewashiveruphisspine,buthekepthisfeaturesschooled.Afterall,hehadaveryperceptivekidwatchinghim.Westookapicture,savedit,andwaiteduntilLaurawaspreoccupiedbythehappeningsonthefieldagainbeforeheputthephonetohisearandlistenedtothevoicemail
“Hey,it’sme.”Hissister’svoicewasthinandquiet.“IthoughtaboutwhatyousaidandIthink…Ithinkyou’reright.I’mnotsurewhenIcangiveLaurathekindofroutinesheneeds.Notwithmeworkin’nights.AndIdon’twanttoripheroutofschoolwhenshe’sonlystartedkindergarten.Ifyoustillwanttobeherguardian,Ithinkweshouldlookintoit.Notforever,youknow?Butfornow.JustuntilIcanfiguresomethingsout.”TherewasalongpauseduringwhichWescouldonlyheartherapidthumpingofhisheart,thesoundsofthegamefadedaway.“Problemis,I’mgoingtoneedthemoneyfromthehouse.Iknowyou’vebeenmakingthemortgagepayments,butIneedtosellitnow.So…you’dhavetofindanewplacewithLaura.Look,justgivemeacallwhenyouhavetime,okay?”
Wesdroppedthecelltohisthighandstaredintonothing.
Jesus.Howhadheoverlookedthefacthedidn’townthehousewhereheandLaurawereliving?He’dmovedinandtakenoverthemonthlypaymentsandforgottenallaboutthefactthathisnamewasn’tevenonthedeed.Nowhissisterwasgoingtoputthehouseonthemarketandthatlefthim—andherdaughter—withoutaplacetolive.Howthehellwashesupposedtoobtainguardianshipwhenthesandbeneathhisfeetwasconstantlyshifting?Ifhewaslookingathislifeonpaper,hewouldneverdeemhimselfasuitablecaretaker.
“UncleWes,canIhaveasipofyoursoda?”
Heswallowedhard.“Nope,you’reonwater,kid.Youneedtodilutethehalfpoundofsugaryoujustconsumed.”
Shethrewbackherheaddramatically.“Waterhasnoflavor.”
“Sureitdoes.”Herreluctantinterestwouldhavebroughtasmiletohisfaceifhisgutshadn’tjustbeenstompedonbyanelephant.“Here,”hesaid,uncappingthebottleandputtingitinherhand.“Onlythemostrefinedtastebudscanpickuponit.It’sveryhardtodetect.”
Lauranoddedgravelyandtookalongsip.“Oh!”Hereyesflewwide.“Igotit.Igottheflavor.”
“Noway.”Heslappedahandacrosshischest.“Almostnoonetastesit.You’reinaveryexclusiveclub.”
Shesatupalittlestraighter.“Iknow.”
Theytradedaseriousnodandwentbacktowatchingthegame,butWes’smindwasfuriouslytryingtocomeupwithasolutiontothenewproblemthathadbeendroppedintohislap.
Briefly,hethoughtofaskingBethanyforhelp,butquicklydiscardedtheidea.Theirrelationshipwastoonew,toofragiletostartheapingmoreontotheirplate.Ifacknowledgingthatmadetheearthunevenbetweenhisfeet,he’djusthavetodeal.
WessettledthehardhatonLaura’sheadandhunkereddowninfrontofher.HewasgoingagainsthiswiserjudgmentbringinghisniecetotheProjectDoomsdaysite,butshe’dbeenbeggingtocomeseewhereheandBethanyworkedeveryday.She’dhadahalfdayatschoolandthecameracrewwasfilmingatStephen’sfliptoday,sohe’dleftatlunchtimetobringheroverforaquickvisitbeforehedroppedheroffwiththebabysitter.
“Nowremember,don’ttouchanything.Everythingisdangerous.”
Laurabouncedaroundontheballsofherfeet.“IsBethanyinthere?”
“Yes.”
Asmilespreadacrossherface.Yeah,hecouldrelate.
HesmiledeverytimehethoughtofBethany,too.Unfortunately,itwasnowFriday,andmostofthetimethey’dspenttogethersinceMondaynightwasinsidethisveryhouse—working,notkissing.Evenwiththeadditionofahalfdozeninternsprovidedbythenetwork,theyweregoingtocomeinunderthetwo-and-a-half-weekdeadlinebytheskinoftheirteeth.Bethany’snightshadbeenspentpullingfavorswithdécorcompaniestogetfurnishingsshippedontime,andhisnightshadbeenspentresearchingguardianship.
Hersmileswereallhewasprivytolately—andhewasn’tcomplainingaboutit.
Matteroffact,whenheguidedLaurathroughthefrontdoor,Bethanyturnedfromherpositionatthetopofasteppingstoolandoneofthoseverysmilesbloomedacrossherface.God,helovedherlikethis,coveredindrywallandpaintspeckles,hairinwhathe’dstartedreferringtoasherSundayBun.Hewascountingthedaysuntilthisflipwasoversohecouldstealmorethantheoddkissbetweensandinganddrilling.
“Hey,Laura!”Bethanycalled,climbingdownoffthesteppingstool.“Youlooksoofficialinyourhardhat.”
Laurabeamed,showingoffhermissingbottomtooth.“Whyaren’tyouwearingone?”
“Myheadishardenough.Askyouruncle.”
“IpleadtheFifth.”
Bethanystuckhertongueoutathimandifhisniecewasn’tthere,shewouldhavebeenintrouble.Thegoodkind.Sheseemedtoknowit,too.Howlonghadtheybeenstaringateachotherliketherewasn’tanunholyracketgoingonaroundthem?
Bethanyshookherself.“SohowareMeganandDanielle?Ibetyou’vebeenplanningyournextteaparty.”
“Yup.”Thelittlegirlleaptinplace,landinginacloudofsawdust.“Allthegirlsinmyclassarecomingtothenextone!”
“Theyare?”WesandBethanychokedoutatthesametime.
Lauranoddedvigorously.“Uh-huh.ItoldthemtheycanrideinthebackofUncleWes’struckandthey’regoingtoasktheirmoms.”Hisnieceshuffledinacircleandstoopeddownunexpectedly.“What’sthis?”
Wessidesteppedtodeterminewhatshewasaskingabout—anditwasalreadytoolate.She’dclosedhergrubbykidhandaroundasmallchunkofplywoodwithawaywardstaplestickingoutoftheend.LaurayankedherhandbackandletoutahowlthatalmoststruckWesdeadonthespot.“Ow!”
“Why’dyoutouchthat?”Hetookherwristandturneditover,hiswindpipeclosingatthesightofbloodwellingonherpointerfinger.“OhmyGod.OhmyGod,she’sbleeding.”
“What?”Bethanyscreechedandbumpedbackintohersteppingstool,sendingitskitteringbackontheunfinishedfloor.“OhmyGod.Whatdowedo?”
“Idon’tknow.”Wasthathishystericalvoice?“She’sneverbledbefore.”Hisvisionwinkedbrightlyattheedges.“It’sdrippingnow.It’sdripping!”
Laurawailed,tearsliterallysquirtingfromhereyes.Wasthatnormal?Orwasthatasignthatshewasgoingintoshock.Washegoingintoshock?
“Okay.Okay.”BethanyslidinfrontofLauraonherkneesandrippedoffthehemofherownT-shirt,wrappingitaroundthecutsomanytimesitlookedlikeLaurahadagolfballperchedonherfinger.“I…maybe…Ithinkwejusttreatherlikewe’dtreatanadultwithacut?”
“Idon’tknow.Theymusthaveseparatemedicineaislesforchildrenandadultsinthedrugstoreforareason,right?”
Bethanychewedonherlip.“Idon’tknowhowlongthatbandagewillhold.”
“Jesus.”WespickedupLaurainhisarmsandturnedineverydirection,noideawheretosetherdown.Weretheythesamebloodtypeifsheneededatransfusion?Couldhegiveatransfusionifhewaspassedoutcold?“Whatdowedo?”
“ThisismyiPadfinger,”Laurasobbed.
“Yourtruck.There’safirst-aidkitinyourtruck.”
“Okay,yes.Okay.”WescarriedLauraoutthefrontdoorwithBethanyrightbehindhim.Amomentlater,hehadLaurasettledinthedriver’sseatofthetruck,Bethanyhavingsprintedaroundtothepassengersidetoretrievethekit.Shetossedittohimacrosstheconsole,neitheroneofthemregisteringthefactthatLaurawasnowmakingvroom-vroomnoisesandtryingtosteerthestationarytruck.
Holdinghisbreath,WesslowlyunwoundthescrapoffabricfromLaura’sfingerandwaitedforthegoretoshowitself.
Therewasnothing.
Hecouldbarelymakeoutthefaintwhitelinewherethecuthadbeeninflicted.
SlowlyWesliftedhisgazetoBethany,whowasequallydumbstruckoverthelackofboneprotrusionsandcarnage.Sheletoutapuffoflaughterandslumpedagainstthedoorframe.
“Yourippedyourshirt,”hesaiddazedly,reliefmakinghimdizzy.
“It’sjustashirt.”ShelookedatLauraforseveralbeatsbeforegivingWesherattentionagain,andsomethingimportantseemedtobeoccurringinthoseblueeyes.“It’sjustashirt.”
Somethinghappenedbetweentheminthatmoment.Sure,herwordsweren’tintendedtohaveadeepmeaning,butassoonassheutteredthem,thefinallinetyinghimtothepastfrayedalittlemore.WhatcamebeforewouldalwaysbeapartofWes,butthesepeopleandtheirwell-beingwaswhatmattered.Havingthemclosesohecouldcareforthemwhentheywerehurt.Whywouldheeverwanttorunawayfromthat?Frombeingneededbythiswomanandthischild?
“UncleWes.”LauraevadedWeswhenhetriedtoapplyNeosporintohercut.“Canwetakethisthingoutforaspin?”
HegaveupontheNeosporinandpulledhisnieceintoahuginstead.WhenhegesturedforBethanytojointhem,sheseemedataloss,buteventuallyclimbedintothecarandwrappedherarmsaroundthetwoofthem.Anditwasnewandscaryandhecouldn’timaginehimselfbeinganywhereelseinthatmoment.
Bethanydroppedthefreshlycutbouquetofrosesintoherfavoriterose-goldProunavaseandfluffedthestems.Theyfellintoaless-than-perfectorderandshewassurprisedtofindherselfokaywithleavingthemthatway.Usually,shespentagoodsixtosevenminutesorganizingeachflowerjustsoinpreparationfortheSaturdaynightJustUsLeaguemeeting.
Hadshereallychangedsomuchintheweekandahalfsincestartingtheflip?
Sheproppedahipagainstthekitchencounterandreviewedthelastelevendays.She’dgottenmessy.Dirt-under-her-fingernails,hair-in-a-sagging-bun,clothes-covered-in-construction-falloutmessy.
Somewhereinthemiddle,she’dgivenablowjobwithherkneesburiedinsawdust.
Yes,thatlastonemadeflowerarrangingseemalittlelesspressing.
Thankfulforherremainingfewmomentsaloneinthehouse,BethanyclosedhereyesandrememberedthetasteofWes’srain-slickedmouth,howsurehisfingershadbeenmovinginandoutofher.God,hadthatbeenalmostanentireweekago?Howhadshesurvivedwithoutmoreofhistouchsincethen?Hadhebeenemployingreversepsychologybydecidingtomoveslow?BecausethesuggestionofaprolongedtimelinewasmakingherHorny.WithacapitalH
Longasyouletmegivethisbodywhatitneeds,Icanremembertheboundariestomorrow.
Sure,sure.Boundaries.
Theyneededtohavethose.
Butlike,howsolidwerethoseboundariesactually?Whatdidtheyconsistof?
Thelackofgroundruleswasmakingheredgierthananunstyledbouquetofrosescouldeverhopetodo.MaybeshewouldpayWesavisitafterthemeeting.Justtoclarifyexactlywhatboundariesmeant.Nootherreason.
Bethanyrealizedshewasfanningherselfandpushedoffthecounter,flickingopenanotherbuttononherblousewhilemakingherfinalroundsofthehouse.Throwpillowswereallaligned,snackswereplacedstrategicallythroughoutthespace,candleswerelit,andthetemperaturewascomfortable.
Standinginfrontofhercouch,shedrummedherfingersagainsthermouth.Thenshereachedforoneofthewhitethrowpillows,turningitenoughtoletthesmalltagshow.Thatitchonherneckwokeup,demandingattention,butsheignoreditandwalkedawayintriumph.Lookatyou.Arebelwithoutacause.
Today?Pillowtagsandmessyflowerarrangements.
Tomorrow?Whoknew?Maybeshewouldforgomakeupatthenextmeeting.
Whatwasresponsibleforthesesubtlechangesinher?WasProjectDoomsdayactingasaradicalimmersiontherapyforperfectionists?OrwasitWes?
Despitetheattractionshe’dnursedforhimsincehearrivedinPortJeff,she’dmadeWestheenemybecausehewastheonlyonewhosawherflaws.Now…nowshewantedtobearoundhimmorefortheverysamereason.Itmadenosense.
NoneofwhatwashappeningwithWesmadesense.
Foronce,though…shewasconsideringleavingarelationshipunarranged.
Messy.
Ifshecouldmanagetoletfatetakeitscourse,wouldsheregretit?
AchorusofexcitedvoicesreachedBethanythroughthedoorbeforethedoorbellstartedtoring.Shesmoothedherhairandmadesureherbrastrapsweren’tpeekingoutofhersilvermetallicwrapdress.Heroutfittonightwasfancyevenbyherstandards,butshe’dchosenitmostlybecauseshefeltsexyandlessbecauseshewantedtoimpresseveryone.Ithadbeenareallynicechange,slippingthethinmaterialupherfreshlyshowered,bareskinandnotbeinginundatedwithworriesthatitwouldn’tbetheperfectbalanceofunderstatedandclassy.
She’dgottendressedforherself.
Withasecretsmile,whichwasalsojustforher,sheopenedthedoorandletinthemillinggroupofwomen,greetingeachofthemwithakissonthecheekandaninquiryabouttheirjoborfamily.Andthistime,shewasreallylistening.Theirwordsweren’tdulledbytheconstantbuzzinginherbrainorpressuretocomeupwithawittyresponse.Shewasactuallyenjoyingherself.Morethanshehadinalongtime.
Rosiearrivedontheheelsofeveryone,glowingasshealwaysdidnowthathermarriagehadbeenrepaired,carryingfogged-upTupperwarecontainersonherhip.Withafallbiteintheair,theeveninghadacozyambiance.TalkofHalloweencostumesandThanksgivingplanscirculatedinthebreezewhileBethanypassedoutwineandchampagne.
Foronce,Bethanytookamomenttosavorwhatshe’dbuiltwithhersisterandRosie.Thisclubofwomenthathadcometogetherwiththesolemissionofbeingsupportiveofoneanother.Celebratingaccomplishmentsandconsolingeachotherwhentheydidn’tsucceed.BethanyhadbeentheonetocomeupwiththeinitialideafortheJustUsLeague,butwithanewfoundclarity,shewonderedifshe’ddoneitfortherightreasons.Hadshehopedeveryoneelse’sproblemswoulddistractfromwhatwaswronginherownlife?
Startingnow,shewouldbemorepresent.Shewouldleadthisclubwithunselfishgoals.Exceptmaybeforone.Shewantedtobekindertoherself.Itwouldtaketime.Anditmighteventakelongerbeforeshecouldvoicethathopeoutloudtoanyone,buttherewasaseedgerminatingandthatwasmorethanshehadlastweek.
Wes’ssmiledriftedthroughBethany’smindandshefoundherselfsighingdreamilyintoherglassofchilledchampagne.Howhadhespenthisday?She’dpickedupherphonetotexthimseveraltimes,butwhenevershe’dtappedoutamessage,heroldruleshadpreventedherfromhittingsend.Ifshedidn’tkeepmenatarm’slength,they’dthinkshewasneedy.Butifsheshowedtoomuchinterest,theymightlatchontootight.Andaroundandaroundshewent.
“Romewasn’tbuiltinaday,”Bethanymuttered,drainingherglassandsettingitonaleathercoaster.Shewoveherwaythroughthewomenstandinginherlivingroomandtookherplaceatthewhiteboard.“Everyonegetcomfortable,”shechirped,uncappingherfavoritemarker.“Somebodytellmesomethinggoodthathappenedthisweek!”
AlocallawyerandlongtimeJustUsLeaguernamedTrinishaputherhandup,sendingherbraceletsjanglingdownherumberskin.“Imadepartnerthisweek.Itwasatotalsurpriseandquiteafewofmycolleagueswerenothappyaboutbeingpassedover.Istartedtofeelguilty,likeIalwaysdo,but”—sheflickedawrist—“Iearnedit.”
Theapplausewasenthusiastic,everyonetoastingtheaccomplishmentinaseriesofclinksandcongratulations.
Oneoftheirnewermembers,asinglemotherwithashortblackbob,raisedherhand.“Ijoinedadatingsite,”shesaid,blushing.“Ihaven’tbeenonadateinnineyears,but…I’mmeetingsomeoneforcoffeeonMondaynight.”
Oncue,everyonelaunchedfourhundredquestionsinherdirection,wantingtoknowhisname,profession,eyecolor,andastrologicalsign.Withamusementcurvingherlips,Bethanywrote“hotdate”onthewhiteboardandwaitedforthehubbubtodiedown.“That’samazing.Congratulations.”Shewinkedatthesinglemom.“Letmeknowifyouwanttoborrowshoes.”
“I’mnotturningdownthatoffer,”thewomanreplied,stillbeautifullyrosyfromalltheattentionshewasgetting.“I’llbetheenvyoftheclub.We’realldyingtogetapeekatthatcollection.”
Whatifit’snotasamazingastheyhoped?
Whatiftheymovesomethingoutofplace?
“Really?”Bethanytuckedsomehairbehindherearandleanedintotherisingtensioninhermidsection.“Well,gohavealook,everyone.I-ifyouwant.”
Theentireroomwenteerilystill,beforetheyallscrambledatonce.TheywereupthestairsbeforeBethanycoulddescendintoapanicfunnel.Shewaitedwiththemarkerclutchedinherhand,tellingherselfitwasstupidtoworrywhatpeoplethoughtabouthershoecollection.Butitwasn’treallyabouttheshoecollection,wasit?Itwasanyextensionofherself.ProjectDoomsday,ateaparty,herwallofshoes.Howlonghadshebeenbasinghervalueonhowperfectshecouldmakethingsappear?
ThelacesinBethany’schestloosenedwhenawedgaspstraveleddownthestairs.HershouldersslumpedinreliefandonlythendidsherealizeRosiewaswatchingherwithconcernfromthekitchen.OfcourseRosiehadn’tgoneupstairsbecauseshe’dalreadyseenBethany’scollectionseveraltimes.Andwow,therewasnothingquiteaseffectiveasseeingyourselfreflectedbackinafriend’seyes.
Shecouldn’tallowherselftobelikethisforever.Nowthatshe’dmadealittleprogress,shewasdesperateformore.
Timetocutherselfsomeslack.
Timetostarttakingmoreleapswithoutknowingwhereshewouldland.
Startingtonight.
WithWes.
BethanyopenedhermouthtocallouttoRosie,butwascutoffwhenherfrontdoorshotwideopen.FramedinthedoorwaywasGeorgie.
Inagondoliercostumeandamustache.
“Buongiorno!”
WithBethany’sandRosie’slaughterbouncingoffthewallsofthelivingroom,theJustUsLeaguememberscamecareeningbackdownthestairsatapacethathadBethanymentallyreviewingthedetailsofherhomeowner’sinsurance.Georgiewaswrappedinhugsfrommembers,onebyone,asifshe’dbeengoneforayear,insteadoftwoweeks.Georgiewasn’tquitefinishedwithhergondolierrole-playing,however.
WithathickItalianaccent,shewavedadismissivehandatBethany,demandinganAperolSpritzandaselectionofcheese,dissolvingtheroomintolaughter.
“Getoverhere,”Bethanysaid,pullinghersisterintoahug.“Howdareyoumakememissyousomuch.”
“Imissedyou,too,”Georgieresponded,squeezinghertightforafewsecondsandthensteppingback,asuspiciousglimmerinhereyes.“There’ssomethingdifferentaboutyou,butIcan’tquiteputmyfingeronit.Hassomeoneelsebeenputtingtheirfingeronit?”
“GeorgetteCastle.”BethanygaveRosieasternlookoverhersister’sshoulder.“Yousaidyouwouldintercepther.”
“Idid!”
“Comeon.MeandRodidn’tgetanounceofprivacywhileweweredealingwithourmanwoes.It’syourturn,sisterfriend.”
“Whatisshetalkingabout?”Trinishawantedtoknow.“Isitthecowboy?”
“Ofcourseit’sthecowboy,”someonecalled.“Hewon’tletitbeanyoneelse.”
Acollectivechantwentup.“Details!Details!Details!”
Bethany’sinstinctwastoshutdowntheinterest.She’donlyjustallowedherselftoboardtherelationshiptrain,but…shewantedtosharethesillyflip-flopinherstomach.Shewantedtobetheonemakingablushingconfessionbecauseitwouldbeanhonestone.Ararityforher,buthopefullynotforlong.
Leaps.Theywerea-coming.
Sheshruggedandstudiedherfingernails.“Themanhiatusisover.”
Thecrowdwentwild.ChapterTwenty
Westriedtorubtheblurredvisionfromhiseyesandfocusbackonthelaptopscreen,onwhichhehadapproximatelyfiftybrowsertabsopen.He’dgonefromsittingatthekitchentabletolyingagainsttheheadboardofhisbed,hopingcomfortmightmakesenseofthelegalterminologycrowdinghisbrain.InbetweenboutsofreadingthroughNewYorkState’slegalrequirementsforguardianship,hewasapartmenthunting.
Hehadadecentamountofmoneyinthebank,butheneededaplacefastanddidn’twanttorushintoahouse.Apartmentitwas.AlthoughtherewerepreciouslittleoftheminPortJefferson.Mostoftheapartmentswereinsidelargerprivateresidencesorlocatedovercommercialstores.Iftheywerenearertothebeginningofsummer,hemighthavehadbetterluck,butapartmentswereinshortsupplyrightnow.He’dhavetocallStepheninthemorningontheoffchanceheknewofsomethingthatwasn’tlistedonthemarketyet.
Orderinghimselftofocus,Wespickedupthelaptopandcradleditonhisforearm,gettinguptopacebackandforthatthefootofhisbed.Ifheunderstoodthelegalesecorrectly,heandBeckywouldneedtofileaPetitionforGuardianshipthatcouldbeapprovedordenied.Ifapproved,someonewouldbeappointedtoinspecttheirlivingsituationbeforetheyeverwentbeforeajudgeforfinalapproval,soheneededtogetaplaceforthemfast.AndhowthehellwashegoingtoexplainthesuddenmovetoLaura?Orthefactthathermotherwouldn’tbecomingback…indefinitely?Distractionwasn’tgoingtoworkthistimearound.
AsoftknockonthewindowbroughtWes’srapid-firethoughtstoascreechinghalt.Bethanystaredbackathimfromtheotherside.
Hisfeetmovedoftheirownaccord,carryinghimtowardthegorgeousimageshemadeinabillowingsilverdress,herlighthairblowinginthewind.
Hi,shemouthed,hergazerakinghisshirtlesstorsowithinterest.
Move,idiot.
Westurnedonlylongenoughtodrophisopenlaptoponthebedandlungedtoopenthewindow.GoodLord,withoutthepaneofglassbetweenthem,shestolehisdamnbreathfasterthangettingtossedoffabuckingmustang.Hiscockturnedfullandhardbehindthezipperofhisjeanssoquicklyhealmostgotlightheaded.“Heythere,darlin’,”Wessaid,stickinghisheadoutthewindow.“Youforgethowtofindthefrontdoor?”
“No,IjustsawthelightonandIwasworriedknockingwouldwakeupLaura.”Shelookeddownatherfeet.Herbarefeet.“Isthisabadtime?”
“It’sneverabadtimeforyou.I’mjusttryingtowrapmyheadaroundBethanyCastleshowingupatmywindowforabootycall.”
Shesnorted.“Thisisnotabootycall.”
Itwasdefinitelyabootycall,buthe’dplayhergame.“Fine,then.Youwanttocomeinhereandtalkawhile?”
“Sure,”shesaidprimly,reachinguptotakehishand.Azingofelectricityracedfromwristtoelbowwhentheirskinmetandheld,givingbothofthemamomentofbreathlesspause.Lordhavemercy.
ItwasoneofthegreatestunexpectedpleasuresofhislifetowrapanarmaroundBethanyandhaulherthroughhiswindow,carryingherintotheroomwiththecoldnightairstillclingingtoherskinandclothes.Thetipsofherbaretoesbrushedthetopsofhisfeetandtheysunkintothefeelofeachotherwithdrawn-outsighshummingintheirthroats.
“Youhaveafewsipsatyourmeetingtonight,baby?”
Hernoseandmouthnuzzledtheskinbehindhisearandhepulledherhigher,tighter,soshe’dgivehimmore.“Notenoughtoimpairmyjudgment.”
Wescaughttheirreflectioninthetophalfofthemirror,watchedhimselfbreathinginthiswoman,andknewhislifewashere.Inthisroom.Inthistown.Allroadshadledhere—andtoher.“Howdidyougethere?Don’ttellmeyouwalkedinthedark.”
“Rosiedroppedmeoff.”Sheseemedtobraceherself,tensionstiffeningherback.“I,um…toldtheclubaboutus.”
Hisheartgrewtensizesthatday.
Couldn’tshefeelittestingtheconfinesofhisribcage?
“Ifthatbothersyou,I’lltellthemIhadtoomuchchampagne,”shesaidquickly.“Peoplesaysillythingsallthetimeatmeetings—”
“Whatexactlydidyousay?”
Herswallowwasaudible.“Thatmymanhiatuswasover.”
“Idon’tlikethesoundofthat.”
“Youdon’t?”shewheezed,lookingupathim.
“ItmakesmesoundliketheopeningceremoniestothemanOlympics.”Hesnuckhishandupthebackofherdressandpalmedhertightass.“ButI’llbetheonlyonecompetingintheeventsfromhereonout.”
Shetuckedherfingersintothewaistbandofhisjeans,tuggingjustenoughtomakehislifeflashinfrontofhiseyes.“Well.Your…javelinisdefinitelyready.”Shetrailedasinglefingerdownhisdistendedflyandthendancedaway.“ButlikeIsaid,thisisn’tabootycall.”
Hefollowedinhertrackslikeahungrydog,tuggingherhipsbackupagainsthislapandgrowlingintoherneck.“Ifthat’strue,itwaseviltoshowupherelookingsobeautiful.”
“Don’tblameme,”shemurmured,rubbingherbuttsidetosideagainsthisgroin.“Youhaven’tevenputsexbackonthetableyet.”
Wait.What?Huh?Surelythey’dmovedpastthatinitialagreementthey’dmadeoutsideProjectDoomsday.Feltlikehe’dlaiddownthatregrettablegauntletadecadeago.“Whatweremyconditionsforputtingitbackonthetable?”
“WhenIstoppeddoubtingyourhonorableintentions.”
“Right.”Hetraveledhisopenmouthupthesideofherexposedneck.“YouthoughtIZellweger’dsowecouldsleeptogether.”
“Yes,”sherasped.“Idid.”
“Andnow?”
“I…don’t.”
Victorytunnelingthroughhisbloodstream—shetrustsme—Wesbunchedthehemofherdressinhishandsandgroanedoverthearousingpictureshemade,herthong-bedeckedasspressedtohisbulge.“It’sbackonthetable,Bethany.”
Shewiggledaway.“Goodtoknow.”Hislowgrowloffrustrationwasfollowedbyhertinklinglaugh.Andhell,thelightnessinhertonightwaskindofworththepain,wasn’tit?Whowouldhaveeverthoughthe’dhavethisincrediblewomanshowingupathiswindowwithoutshoesinthemiddleofthenight,primedtoteasehimintobegging?Nothim.Hesureasshitwasn’tgoingtoletalittle—okay,alot—ofsexualfrustrationtakeawayfromhowfarthey’dcome.Howfar…she’dcome.
Wesadjustedhiserectionandtookaseatonthecornerofthebed.“Whatelsehappenedatyourmeetingtonight?”
Shesaunteredpast,slowlyplowingherfingersintohishairandtakingthemout.Fuck,Bethanywasaqueeneverydayofherlife,buttonightshe’dbeentransformedintoagoddess,almostdefyingdescriptionwithhersexualconfidence.Thelasttimethey’dbeenintimate,she’dtriedtorunoffbeforehecouldsatisfyher.Hecouldn’tseethiswomantryingtodothesame.Naw,shelookedreadytorelishwhatevercameherway.“Iletthetagonmythrowpillowshow.And…Ijustlettheflowersfallhowevertheywanted.Ileteveryonegointomyclosetwithoutmetheretomakesuretheygottheoptimaleffect.Thisprobablyallsoundstotallyridiculoustoyou.”
Hisheartturnedover.“Itdoesn’t,”hesaidfirmly.“ButIwanttoknowwherethisstarted,baby.Whatmadeyouthinkeverythingyoutouchedhadtoturntogold?”
Bethanyletabreathout.“It’shardtorememberatimewhenIdidn’toperatethisway.Stephenwasthecarrierofthelegacy,buthemademistakes.Normalkidmistakes.IguessIthoughtthatinthesesmallways,likedressingimpeccably,gettingstraightAs,orhavingmyroomorganized,Icouldexcelwherehecouldn’t.Hewastopdogofeverythingelse.Dad’saffection.Mom’sfirst-born.”Shepaused,handswringingatherwaist.“Itwasalwaysacompetition,butIcouldn’twinatsports—Idon’tdosports.Orconstruction,becausehewasalwayslearningatDad’skneeandIwasneverincluded.Ijustovercompensatedmoreandmoreovertimeanditgotoutofcontrol.Itspreadtoeverything.”
Hecouldseeherasayounggirl,studyinglateintothenight,hopingagoodgradewouldbuyhermoreattention.Stressinguntilshegotthetestback.Howeasilythatmighthavebecomeapatternifitwasn’tcorrected.“Ididtheopposite.EverythingIdidwasanattempttoproveIdidn’tcareifIgotattentionfrommyfosterparents.Oranyone.Icouldgooutandgetitonthebackofabull.Itonlyeverleftmeempty,though.OrlandedmeintheER.”
Shedroppedherhands.“Ihavegreatparents.Iwassofortunate.I’msureIsoundsowhinytoyou—”
“Bethany,stopworryinghowyousoundorhowyou’recomingacrosstome.Ifyou’rebeinghonest,it’salwaysgood.”
“Thatsoundssonice.Someonejustknowingyoumeanwellatalltimes.”
“Youcanalwaysassumethatwithme.”Heletthatsinkin.“AndI’mproudofyouforfuckingwithyourpillows.”
Shehuffedabemusedlaugh.“Inoticeyoudidn’tdenymywhininess.”
“You’renotwhiny,baby.”
Pinkstainedhercheeks,herattentionslidingtowardtheopenlaptop.“Ifyouwerewatchingporn,it’sseriouslygoingtodetractfromthepoignancyofthisconversation.”
Wesreachedforthecomputerandclosedthelid,knowingfullwellhewouldn’tbeabletoconcentrateonanythingbutherfortherestofthenight.Hesliditunderthebed,assuredhisbrowsertabswouldbereadyandwaitingforhimtomorrow.“Beckycalledmeduringtheweek.She’sagreedtoletmebecomeLaura’sguardian.”
Herhandsflewtoherface.“Wes.OhmyGod.That’swonderful.”
Henodded,alittleflusteredbythewringingsensationinhissternum.“It’sgoingtobeaprocess.Idon’tevenknowifIcanmakeithappen.She’ssellingthehouserightwhenIneedtoproveIcanprovideastableenvironment.It’s—”Hecuthimselfoffwithablown-outbreath.“She’sworththetrouble.”
“Ofcoursesheis.”Alineformedbetweenherbrows.“Whydidn’tyoutellmeBeckyhadagreedtotheguardianship?”
Truthwas,hedidn’twanttooverloadhernow,wheneverythingbetweenthemwassonew.Buthekeptthattohimself,worriedhisreasonsmighthurtherfeelings.“IjustwantedtosoundlikeIknewwhatthehellIwastalkingaboutfirst.”
Bethanyseemedhappybutnotquiteconvincedbyhisexplanation.“I’llhelp.I’llhelpanywayIcan.”
Hislipstickedupatthecorner.“You’regoingtobemyZellwegernow?”
“It’smyturn.”Sheswayedcloseruntilshewasstandingbetweenhisoutstretchedthighs,herfingernailsscratchingslowpathsintohishair.“You’reagoodman,Wes.EverytimeIthinkI’mfinallygivingyouenoughcredit,yougobeyondit.”
Thiswasheaven.Righthere.Thiswomanplayingwithhishair,hismouthonlevelwithherlushtits.Listeningtohersaywordshe’dbeentotallyunawareofcraving.Evenwithsomuchhanginginthebalance,he’dneverbeenmorewholeinhislife.Heleanedinandkissedtheslopesofhercleavage,whispering,“HowdoImakeyoustaythenightwithme,Bethany?”
Ashuddertraveledthroughherbody.“Oh,Idon’tthinkI’llneedthatmuchconvincing.”
Wesmassagedhiswayupthebacksofherthighsuntiltheydisappearedbeneathherdressandclutchedherbutt,urginghercloseruntilsheclimbedontothebed.Straddlinghim.Theirmouthsclungduringthewholemaneuver,notkissing,justacceptingandgiftingbreathstoeachotheruntilherpussypresseddowninagonizingdegreesontohiserectionandtheymoanedbrokenly.
“Wes?”
Hedrewherintoabreathlesskiss,rockingheronhislapwithshakinghands.“Anything,baby.”
“Iwantyoutomakehard,messylovetome.Idon’twanttothink.”
She’dhardlyfinishedissuingtherequestwhenWesturnedandthrewherdownontothebedwithenoughforcetomakehergasp.Washeforcefulbecauseshe’daskedhimtobe?OrbecausehearingtheLwordonherlipshadbeenlikeshockpaddlestohisentirebeing?Hedidn’tknow.Butherexcitedeyesstoppedhimfromaskingifshewasallright.Shewasmorethanallrightandwantedmore.
“Ourfirsttimewasalwaysgoingtobehardandmessy,darlin’.”Hereachedupunderherdressandrippedthethongdownherlegs,leavingtheskirtbuncheduparoundherwaist—andGodhelphim,healmostcameseeingherpussyforthefirsttime.Itwasblondandgroomedliketherestofher,likehe’dknownitwouldbe.Butherobviouswetnesswaswhatmadehimhot.“Kindofassumedwhenwefinallygothere,itwouldbehate-fuckingatitsfinest,butthat’snotwhatthisisatall,isit,baby?”Hegrippedhersexandsqueezed,makingherbackarch.“WhatIfeelforyouisthefurthestthingfromhate.ButyoumighthaveahardtimebelievingthatwhenI’mholdingyoudownpumpinglikeIblameyouforthishurtingdick.”
Weswhippedthebeltoutofhisjeansandtosseditonthefloor,theresultingclangcreatinganarmyofgoosebumpsalongherinnerthighs,herneck.Therewasapartofhimthatwantedtomakeslow,sweetlovetothisperfectcreature,butsheneededtobeoverwhelmedintoblankinghermind.Heneededtogiveherthat.Neededhertoknowitwaspossible.Thenhe’dprovetoherhecoulddoiteverytime,nomatterhowfast,slow,orroughtheygot.
Heflippedopenthesnapofhisjeans,loweredthezippertogivehimselfsomebreathingroomandgotdownonhisbelly,appeasinghisgreedbypressingherthighsopenwide.“Allthoseeyerollsandinsults.Allthosefights.Iwouldhavegottendownonmykneestolickthispussyinthemiddleofthemall.OnewordoutofyoursmartmouthandI’dhavebeenpantingandlappingbetweenyourthighs.”
“Wes.”Shepulleddownthebodiceofherdressandpalmedhertits,pinchinghernipples,herhipswrithinginfrontofhimonthemattress.“Thewayyoutalk.Ishouldsmackyou,butIloveit.Iloveit.”
Histhumbtracedtheslitofherpussyandhewatcheditblossomopen.“Iknow,baby.”
Herlaughwasacombinationofincredulityandarousal.“Please.Please,j-just—”
Ahard,thoroughlickofhistonguestemmedtheflowofherwords,herwhimperfuelinghisdrivetopleaseher.SweetLord.Theflavorofthiswoman.He’dhavechasedherforfiftymoredecadesjustfortheknowledgethatshetastedlikewarmvanillaandturned-onwoman.He’donlyjustburiedhistongueinthosefoldsandhewasalreadyworriedaboutwhenhe’dgetthechanceagain.Fuck,hersmoothtexturewasgoingtohaunthimuntilthenexttimeshelethimgetinsidethosedesignerpanties.
Inhisperiphery,hecouldseeherhandssettleonthecomforterforpurchase.Hisgoalwastomakehergriptwist.That’swhenhe’dknowhe’dfoundtherightspot,therightspeed,therightpressure.Jesus,though.Itwasachallengetokeephiseyesopenandwatchforthosesignals,becausethetasteofherdruggedhim.
WesusedtheVofhisfingerstokeepheropenforhisministrations,occasionallyteasingherentrancewithhisthumb.Ohyeah,shelikedthat.Thosehissedbreathsconfirmedit.Sohetrailedhistonguelowerandtuckeditinsideherentrance,twistinghismouthtohiteveryoneofhernerveendings.There.Herhandsturnedtoclawsinthebedclothes,morewetnessslickingherpussy
“Yes.Theretherethere.Please.”
Hehummedtoletherknowtheywereonthesamepage,bringinghisthumbtoherclitanddeliveringlight,massagingcircleswhilehistonguecontinuedtotwistinsideofher.That’sit,baby.Shecouldn’tstaystill.Herthighsalternatedbetweenhuggingthesidesofhisfaceanddroppingopen,littlespasmsagainsthistonguetellinghimshewasalreadyclose.Whereherwordshadbeenintelligiblebefore,nowtheywerenothingbutsyllablesinbetweenwailsofhisname.
Hisgazedevouredthesightofherheavingbody,thefactthatshewasstillwearingherdresswhileheateherpussymakinghimsohorny,hecouldonlyfollowtheurgesofhisbody,humpingthebed,slamminghishipsagainsttheedgerepeatedly,rubbingwhenhefoundadecentangle.Don’tcome.Don’tcome.
Easiersaidthandonewhenshewasthehottestthinghe’deverseen.Thefactthatheknewthiswoman,thatsheknewhim,andthey’dbothcontinuedtogravitatetowardeachotherdespitefights,flaws,andfirings,onlymadegivingherpleasuremoreofaprivilege.Throwintheobscenelydelicioustasteofhercuntandhewaspushingthelimitsofhiscontrol.Shehadhimontheedgewithhisjeansstillon.
“I’mcoming,”shewhisperedchoppily,thenlouder.“OhmyGod,I’mcoming.”
Wespushedhistonguedeeperinsideofherandworkedherclitwithhisthumb,groaningwhenheencounteredanewflavor.Thebestone.Hersatisfaction.Itmadehistongueandlipsslipperywhileshethrashedonthebed,herfingersrippingathiscomforter.
Shewaslimpandshakingwhenhemanagedtotearhimselfawayfromtheplacebetweenherlegs.Standingattheedgeofthebedmomentarily,heretrievedacondomfromthenightstandbeforekickingoffhispantsandmovingoverher.Heplantedhiskneesonthebedbetweenherlegsandslidthemwide.Openingheragain,butthistimeforhiscock.
TherewasalightsheenofsweatonBethany’sbody,givinghertheappearanceofaglowinggoddess.Itrockedhim.Humbledhim.Somuchsothathealmostfellonherlikeastarvingmanwithoutputtingonprotection.Herfingersdancedupthefrontsofhisthighs,herbreathstillcomingingusts,watchinghimwithdazedeyes.“Wes,”shemurmured,shiftinglikeatemptation.“Takemehard.Takememessy.”
ThankGodhe’dgottenthecondominplacewhensheissuedthatreminder,becausehewasreasonablysurehe’dhavethrustinbare.Asitwas,hedroppeddownontopofBethanyatthespeedofsound,latchingontoherneckwithhisteethandenteringherforthefirsttimewithabrutaldrive.
Hecaughtherscreamatthelastsecondwithhisleftpalm,butthatwashislastsensibleaction.Animalinstincttookoverandhewasallfeeling,allurgency.Theviselikegripofherpussymadehimthankfulforthecondom,becausehewouldhavebustedimmediatelywithoutit.Shewasslick,hot,andpulsingaroundhim,makinghisballsfillwithunbearablepressure.Bestofhislife.Bestofthenextlifeandtheoneafteritandhehadn’tevenproperlyfuckedheryet.
Timetofixthat.
Bethany’snailsrakeduphisass,yankinghimintomovementandhewent.Furiously.“It’sagoodthingthishousehasthickwalls,”hegratedagainsthermouth,slap-slap-slappinghiscockintoher.“Youalittlescreamer,baby?”
“No,”shegasped.
Hepositionedherlegsoverhisshouldersandboredownhard.“Youarenow.”Jesus.Thewayshefithimwascriminal.Hecontinuedtogrinddownintoherhard,searchingforsparespacetogethiswholecockinsideofher,buttherewasnonetobehad.Didn’tstophimfromfoldingherinhalf,tryingtofindit—andthere.There.Shewastakingallofhimnow,sowetandwelcomingandsnug.“FeelslikeI’vewaitedmywholelifetowreckthispussy,baby,”heraspedthicklyintoherneck.“Youhavenoidea.Knewitwouldfeellikemine.”
“Itis.”Theirmouthscollidedinaseriesofhard,moaningkisses.“It’syours.”
“Ifeellikeyours,too?”
“Yes.OhmyGod,yes.”
Possessivenesshadhisteethsnappingatthepulseinherneck,hadhimthrowingherlegsbackdownandopenonthemattress,hislowerbodypistoning,hismoutheverywherehecouldreach.Rakingherneck,suckingathernipples,onhermouth.
“Whatwasthatshityouusedtoworryabout?”Helickedapathbetweenherbouncingtits.“Istheguypresentduringsex?FuckyesIam.Soareyou.Yourlightingmakesmewanttoeatyoualive.AndIdon’thaveadog.”
Atthewayherepeatedbackthewordsshe’dspokentohimatthewedding,hereyesflaredandhesawloveinthem.Hesawit,goddammit,andhereeleditintohischest,braidingitwiththelovehefeltforher.TheamazingweightofitmadehimweakforasplitsecondandBethanyusedittoheradvantage,rollinghimontohisbackwithoutbreakingtheirconnection.
“YoureallydolistenwhenIspeak,”shesaidbreathily.“Nowyou’reintrouble.”
HeliftedhishipsandwatchedinaweasBethanystrippedoffherdress,givinghimtheviewofthefuckingcentury.BethanyCastle,beautifullynaked,sittingonhisdick.Nottomentionlookingathimasifhe’dbeenaverygoodboy.Someoneupinheavenlovedhim.“Idon’tmindthiskindoftrouble.”Herolledhislowerback,lurchingherupandback.“Rideit,darlin’.Makeuscome.”
Usinghisshouldersforbalance,sheslidhersexupanddownhisshaft,testingthepressure,once,twice,oh…fuck.Andthenshefellontohischestandstartedbuckingherhips,stirringupthatfinalkindofpressureatthebaseofhisspine.“Ah,Christ.I’mnotlongforthisworld.”Heslappedhishandsdownonherasscheeksandaidedhermovementsroughly.“Don’tstop.Don’tstop.”
Bethany,evertheoverachiever,didthatthinghe’donlyeverseeninporn.Shecurvedthetopsofherfeetaroundhiskneesandworkedhimlikeafuckingpogostick—andhecouldn’tlastlongerthantenseconds.Notwithhermouthopenwithpleasure,herbreastsshaking,andherpussyquickeningaroundhim,likeshewasgoingtocomeagai—
Thereshewent,herfingernailsscoringhischest,herbodydroppingdowntorubandgrinditswaythroughherclimax.Itwastoomuch,seeinghergetoutsideofherheadandtake.Takefromhim.
Hewenthurtlingthroughthesky,thoughhecouldn’tseeanyofhissurroundingswithblindeyes.Onlyknewhewaswrappedinnever-endingvastnessandhisbodywasaslavetorelief.Fuck.Fuck.God.Thedrainingofhisneedseemedtogoonforever,rippingathismusclesandthroat.Wasthathimgrowlinglikeananimal?
Yes.AndthatwasBethanymoaningbrokenlyintohisneck,hersweatybodydepletedontopofhim.Hewasbackdownonearthagain,buthewassomehowstillinheaven,too.Becauseshewasthere.
Theylaytherelikethatforlongminutes,theirbreathingandheartbeatssynced,bodiesreshapingtofiteachother.Finally,responsibilityknockedandWeseasedBethanyontoherside,kissinghershoulderbeforedisposingofthecondom.
Momentslater,hereturnedtothebedroomtojoinBethany,wonderinghowfastshe’dclimbedbackintoherheadandalreadyeagertohelphercrawlbackout.
Shewasonherside,watchinghimwithwide,unblinkingeyes.“Hey.”
Wesgotintobed,pulledthewomanintohischest,andkissedherhardontheforehead.“Hey.Youwereincredible.I’maruinedman.I’venevercomethathardinmygoddamnlife.Andyoucangobacktooverthinkingeverythinginthemorning.”
Hertensionremainedforanothersixseconds,thenshewrappedherselfupinWes,likehewasherfavoriteblanket,andpassedoutcold.
Afraidtoshattertheperfectionofthemoment,thenight,hewhispered,“Iloveyou,”intothedarkness.ChapterTwenty-One
Forthefirsttimeinheradultlife,Bethanywoketothesoundofachild’svoice.Itwasdistantatfirst,kindofmuffled—andthenitwasveryloudandrightinherear.
“Elsa!”shriekedthechild.“UncleWes,didyouhaveasleepover?”
OhmyGod.
OhmyGod.
Bethany’seyesflewopen,determiningfromtheshaftsofsunlightpaintingthewallthatitwaswellpastherusualwake-uptimeofsixA.M.Morningyoga:missed.She’dfallenasleeplastnightinWes’sbed.No,wait.Whatwasthat?Anarmdrapedoverherhip.Hernakedhip?ThosefingertipsweredangerouslyclosetothePromisedLandandtherewasachildintheroom.Hisniece.Howweretheygoingtoexplainthistoher?Howwasshegoingtoexplainthistoherself?
Wessetlooseasmokylaughinherear,andabruptly,thebuildingfunnelcloudinsideofherdisintegrated.Sheletherselffeeltheflannelsheets—suchamalechoice—againstherskin.Sheletherselfenjoytheprotectivewayhischestpressedtoherbackandthewaftofpleasurethattraveledupherspinewhenhisfingertipsbrushedhertummy.Onebyone,hermusclesrelaxedandherpulseslowed.
“Beforeyouturnover,”hewhisperedintoherear,“Idon’tcareaboutyoursmearedmascaraandmorningbreath.”
AsmilehadonlybeguntocurvehermouthwhenLaurademandedherpresencebeacknowledged—byjumpingontheedgeofthebed.
“UncleWes,canwegetacat?MeganandDaniellehavetwocatsandwedon’thaveany.Whatarewedoingtoday?Whatdidyoudoatthesleepover?”
Wes’sbodyvibratedagainstBethany’s,hislow,scratchymorninglaughterinstantlybecomingoneofherfavoritethingsabouthim.Athingsheneverwouldhaveknownaboutunlessshe’dtakenaleap.“Kid,canyoudomeafavor?There’salollipopinthekitchenjunkdrawer.Ifyoucanfindit,youcanhaveit.”
Shewasalreadysprintingdownthehallway.
Bethanyrolledoverontoherbackandgotherfirstglimpseofsleep-mussedWes.Wowza.Definitelyworthmissingyoga.Talkaboutafeastforherfemininesenses.Hisstrong,rangybodywasoutlinedbysunlight,leavinghisfaceshadowedbuthighlightingthepopofhisshouldermusclesandtriceps,theout-of-placehair.Inaword,hewasglorious.PerhapsthebestpartofallwasWescataloguingthesightofher,thesamewayshewasdoingwithhim.“Lollipopsforbreakfast?”shemanaged.
Hekissedhershoulderwithadeliciousscrapeofmorningbeard.“Idon’twanttorushyou,darlin’,butwehaveaboutforty-fivesecondstogetdressedbeforeshecomesback.”
Theybothsprungoutofbedinaflurryofsingle-footedhoppingandlimbsthrownthroughopeningsintheirclothes.TheylaughedwhentheireyesmetacrossthebedandtheywerestilllaughingwhenLaurawalkedbackintotheroomwithaDumDumsstickpokingoutofhermouth.“What?”
Wessighed.“Bethanytooted.”
Shesputtered.“Ididnot!”
“What’stherule,Laura?”
“Ifyoudeniedit,yousuppliedit,”shesaid,gigglingaroundhersucker.“Elsatooted.”Thelittlegirlsobered,whispering,“Didicecomeout?”
Wescollapsedbackwardontothebedinstitchesandhisniecetookthatashercuetoclimbontohisshakingform.Heimmediatelyturnedthetables,tossingthechildsidewaysandticklingherribsuntilshescreamed.
WasBethanyseriouslysmilingoverbeingaccusedofanicefart?Growingup,beingaccusedofafartwasgroundsforassaultamonghersiblings.Beingaccusedasanadultwasunheardof.Butshewasgigglinguncontrollablynowandshecouldn’tstop.Hervanitywasonthecouchrequestingsmellingsalts,butshecouldn’treallyfinditinherselftocare.
“Shouldweletherhavepancakes,anyway?”WesaskedLaura.
“Pancakes,”Laurahollered,flyingbackdownthehallwaytowardthekitchen.Assoonastheywerealoneagain,Wesrosefromthebedandpaddedtowardherinnothingbutjeansandsunlight—andallsortsofvisionsfromthenightbeforerolledinlikesexyhotrods.Bestsexofherlife?Um,puttingitmildly,maybe.Ifhernotionsaboutsexwerebaseballs,Weswouldhavesmackedthemoutoftheparklastnight,intothelotwherethey’dshatteredseveralwindshields.
She’ddefinitelyneverhadanorgasmfromcunnilingus.Untillastnight,shedidn’tevenlikeit.Notforme,sheusedtosaywithamentalshrug.Sowhat?
Thewayhe’dgoneaboutitwithsuchconfidenceandrelish,likehe’dbeendyingfortheopportunitytopayherthesexualfavor…thatalonearousedhertoafeverpitch.Butthen.God.Whathe’ddonewithhistongue.Insideofher.
“Bethany.”
Andthenhispenis.
“Bethany,”Wespromptedagain,stoopingdownuntiltheywereeyelevel.“Don’tknowifyou’venoticed,butwe’vegotafive-year-oldontheloose.PutthatblushawaybeforeIstartcrying.”
“Gotit,”sherasped,acceptingasweetkissonthemouth,theforehead,thesideofherchin.“Doyouhavechocolatechipsforthosepancakes?”
“DamnrightIdo.”Hesnaggedherhandandpulledherfromthebedroom,likethey’ddoneitamilliontimes.“Butbepreparedforthefallout.”
Therewasindeedfallout,notonlyfromthesugar-high-inducingbreakfast,butalsofromtheirnightspenttogether.Andthatfalloutwas…happiness.Itwaskindofliketryingonabrand-newpairofshoesatthestore.Shewaswalkingaroundinthemandtheylookedfabulous,buttherewasalittlebuzzofworryinthebackofhermindthatassoonassheworethemtowork,they’dgiveherablisterinaplaceshewasn’texpecting.Thenwherewouldshebe?Hobblingaroundinapairofdeceptiveshoeswithbloodoozingfromanastycut.
Still,beingwithWesinhiskitchenfeltsogood.Theylaughedoutofsheersillinessandcameupwithnewideasforthenextteaparty.WhenLauraeventuallypassedoutonthecouchfromhersugar-inducedhysteria,BethanysatonWes’slapinthebackyard,wrappedinablanket,andtalkedaboutthefinal-stageideasforProjectDoomsday.
Nowthatthelayoutandstructureofthehousehadtakenshape,shewantedabuilt-inbanquetjustoffthekitchenandaskylightinthedarkhallway.ShewasconfidentandtalkingtoWesaboutherideaswassoeasy.Hedidn’tdiscountanythingshesaid,buthedidn’tyeshertodeath,either.Hewasgenuineandinsightfulandtheyweredating.
That’swhatthiswas.
Herformerenemywasnowkindofonthewaytobeingherboyfriend.
Actually,itseemedlikemorethanthat,somehow.“Boyfriend”soundedtrivialcomparedtothewayBethanyfeltsnuggledtohischestinthebackyardoracceptingaforkfulofpancakesfromhimwhileleaningagainstthekitchencounter.Thewayhe’dkissedherwhentheysaidgood-byeonSundayafternoonhadbeenastampofdefiniteownershipfromwhichshewasstillreeling.
Now,onMondaymorning,Bethanystoodinthebackyard,watchingSladefilmpromosthroughthegiantspacethatwouldeventuallycontainaslidingglassdoorleadingdirectlyoutside.Aroundher,thelandscaperswerehardatwork,sectioningoffflowerbedsandlayingdownsod.They’darrivedovertheweekendtocartoffaforest’sworthofdeadfoliageandtheresultswereamazing.Whoknewthey’dfindanactualyardunderallthatexcessnature?
Tokeepthejobcosteffective,Bethanyhadchosenstampedconcreteforthebackpatioandithadjustbeenpoured.Twomenwereonthefarsideofthefreshlydumpedconcretesmoothingitoutwithmetaltools.Olliewaswalkingaroundtheyard,shadowingoneofthelandscapers,withhiswifeonspeakerphonegivingwhatsoundedlikeawholelotofunsolicitedadviceaboutplantingazaleas.Carl,asusual,waspickingthroughthecraftservicetable.
Thejobwascomingalongatabreakneckpace.SaturdaytheywouldannouncethewinnerofFlipOff.ShehadnoideaifitwouldbeherandWes.Nonewhatsoever.Butlittlebylittle,shewasnolongerfeelinglikeafraud.
“Hey,darlin’,”Wesmurmured,approachingfromthesideofthehousewherehe’dbeensawinglumberforherbanquet.Hegaveheralong,hardonce-overthatmadehernipplespuckerinsidehertanktop.“GodAlmighty,Ialmostforgotforasecondhowbeautifulyouare.What’syourpolicyonkissinginfrontofthecameras?”
“Ialreadytoldyou,”shebreathed,backingup.
Hekeptcominguntilthetipsofhisworkbootsbumpedhers.“Iforgot.”
“Myparentsaregoingtowatchthis.Everyoneis.They’renotgoingtotakemeseriouslyifyou’remaulingmewhenweshouldbeworking.Icanhearthemallnowifwelost.‘Well,maybeiftheyweren’tsodistracted,they’dhavewon.’”
“We’dwinregardless,”hesaidquietly,seeminglymemorizingherfeatures.“Whatareyoudoingstandingouthere,anyway?”
Shepointedatoeatthehouse.“TheykickedmeoutsoSladecouldfilmhisupdate.Hopefullyhe’llbedonesoon;Ireallyneedtogetbacktosandingthemasterbedroomwalls.”
Wesgrumbledalittlewithmockirritationuntilshepokedhimintheribstomakehimstop.
Turninghisbacktothehouse,heleaneddowntospeakdirectlyaboveherear.“Ineedtobealonewithyou,Bethany,”hesaidgruffly.“Needyoubackunderneathmesobad.Ican’tbelieveI’veonlybeeninsideyouonce.”
Thestringattachedtoallofhererogenouszonespulledtautinawayshe’dneverexperienced.She’dbeenturnedonplentyoftimesinherlife.Godknewshe’dfoundtheverybottomofinternetpornduringherself-imposedmanhiatus.Thiswasdifferent.Herbodywassoawakeandgreedy,shedidn’tthinkitwouldbepossibletodenythismaneveragain.
Herskinlongedtosoakinhisheat,tobeavictimtohisteethandweightandangst.Withhimstandingsoclosetoher,whisperinghernerveendingsintoaflurry,shewantedthismanshetrustedtoloveherbodywithoutconstraintsorrulesspokenaloudortimelimits.
Notimelimits.Thatwouldhaveterrifiedherbefore.
Evennow,afingerofapprehensiontracedupherspine,tellingBethanyherworstflawswouldshowthroughoverthepassageoftime,butsheignoredit.
Wesstudiedherfaceandlookedasifhewantedtosaysomethingelse,butSlade’svoicecarriedcloserandhesnappedhismouthshut.Aplayfultwinkleenteredhiseye,thoughitdidn’tfullyeradicatethelust.“Wanttomesswithhim?”
Lightnessblewthroughherchest.“How?”
Hewinkedandcroucheddown,pickingupasmallstickfromthelawn.Hecheckedtomakesurethepatioguy’sbackwasturned.
Andthenhedrewagiantpenisinthewetconcrete,completewithsmileyface.
“Wes,”Bethanyhissed.“Ican’tbelieveyoudidthat.”
Wesroseandtossedawaythestick,thenquicklywrappedanarmaroundherwaisttopullherupagainsthisbody.Hewalkedaroundtothesideofthehouseandpositionedthembehindapinetree.“Oh,comeon.Yes,youcan.”
Tryingnottolaugh,shehidherfaceinhisshoulder.Sladeandthecameracrewwereslowlymakingtheirwaytothebackyard.TheyhadamatterofsecondsbeforeWes’shandiworkwasdiscovered.Tops.“OhGod.OhGod.They’regoingtoseeit.Smoothitbackout.Dosomething—”
“Ifyou’llrecall,whenwefirstarrivedatProjectDoomsday,thebackyardwasmorelikeajungle,”cameSlade’svoice,hisbootsscrapingtoastopattheveryedgeofthebedroomentrance.BethanyclutchedthefrontofWes’sT-shirtandwaited,aburstoflaughterstuckinherthroat.“ThankstosomeextremelandscapingandBethany’sexecutivedecisiontosavesomecashwithstampedconcrete,thebackyardlivingspaceisreallystartingtocometogethernow.Icanseethenewhomeownersenjoyingmanyamargarita—”Sladecuthimselfoff.“Oh.Uhhh.That’s…notpartofthedesign.”
Bethanysnort-giggledandWesshushedherthroughhisownshoulder-shakinglaughter.
“Allright,”shoutedthedirector.“Whodrewthedick?”
Shelostit,stumblingintoWesandknockinghimbackwardintothesideofthehouse.Hecaughther,bothofthemunabletoholdbacktheiramusement.Atsomepoint,theystoppedlaughingandjuststaredateachother,smilesfading.Needwashedoverherlikefoamyoceanwaterwarmedbythesun—anditwasn’tthekindofdesirethatcouldbedelayedortempered.No.Itwasbigandoverwhelmingandglorious.
“Ineedyou,”shebreathed.“Rightnow.”
Hislidshidhiseyesmomentarily.“ThankGod.”Hechewedhislip,seemingtoconsidertheiroptions.“Youtrustme?”
“Yes,”shesaidwithouthesitation
Acornerofhislipswentup,hiswarmhandcaressingthesideofherface.“Good.”HistouchdroppedtoBethany’swristandhetuggedherintothebackyard,rightintothethrongofinternsandcameramen—andSlade—whoweregapingatthecementdick.“Wow,”Wessaid,steppingoverthewetcementontothesetofstairsthatledintothebedroom,helpingBethanyupbehindhim.“Youpeoplewilldoanythingforratings.”
Thedirectorglared.“Everyonetakelunch,”hemuttered.“Canwegetthisdickcleanedup,please?”
Theyjoggedsidebysidedownthehallwayofthehouse,bothofthemburstingattheseamswithpent-uplaughter.Whentheyreachedthebathroom,Weshustledherinsideandlockedthedoorbehindthem.Thenewfixtureshadn’tbeeninstalledyet,sotheonlylightinthesmallroomcamefromasliverbeneaththedoor.Andthatwasashame,becauseBethanywantedtoseehim.Shedidn’twanttoclosehereyesandjustgetthroughit,shewantedtorevelinthembeingtogetherlikethis.Breathlessandhornyandlackinganyshame.
Weswastedzerotimepinninghertothefarwall,theirhandsknockingtogetherintheirhastetogethispantsunzipped.Judgingthathehadthatvitalpartundercontrol,Bethanyscrubbedherpalmsalloverhisabs,goinglowerandfondlinghisbeefyerectionthroughhisjeans.“OhmyGod.”
“What?”herasped,stoopingdownlongenoughtoyankoffheryogapantsandpanties,castingthemasideintothedarkness.Afoilpacketripped,followedbythesoundoflatexunrolling.Thiswashappening.Theywerereallydoingthis.Havingsexinahousefullofpeople.
Theillicitnessofitonlydroveherurgencyhigher.
Whowassheanymore?
“Youjust…”Sherespondedtohispressingmouth,voicethreadywithunabashedhonesty.“Yougetsohardsofast.”
Onamuffledgroan,WesboostedBethanyupagainstthewall.Nosoonerhadsheslungherlegsaroundhishipsdidheclapahandoverhermouthanddrivehisthickshaftinsideofher.Withoutanounceofgentleness.Hereyesfilledwithtearsfromthesheerpleasureoftheroughinvasion.Oh,itfeltsogood.Incredible.She’dbeenmorethanreadyforhimandshelovedthathehadn’tmadeherwait.Nogamesbetweenthem.Justgivingandtaking.
“Saythatagain,”Wesdemandedatherear,slowlyremovinghishandfromitspositionoverhermouth.
“Yougetsohardsofast,”shesaidinarush,bitingdownonherbottomliptotrapamoan,becausehewasmoving,moving,hishipsrollinglikeawell-oiledmachine.
“That’sright.”HewedgedhishandsbetweenBethanyandthewall,takingtightholdofherbarebutt,grindingintoherandholdinghimselfdeep.“You’renotcomplainingaboutmyageanymore,areyou,darlin’?”
“No,”shegasped.
“No,”heechoedonagroan,pumpinghissexintohersslowly,snagginghertoplipwithhisteeth.“Thebettertoserveyouwith,Bethany.”
Aspasmcaughtheroffguard,herintimatemusclessqueezingaroundhim.Withenoughforcetomakehersuckinashakingbreath.“Don’tstop.”Shewrappedherlegstighteraroundhismovinghips.“Please.Please.I’veneverbeenthiswetinmylife.”
Wesgrowledintothecrookofherneckandhisdrivesturnedfrenzied.“Fuck.Youdidnotjustsaythattome.I’mgoingtoblowsofast,baby.Youhavetocome.Youhavetocome.”
KnowingWeswasteeteringontheedgejustlikeherwasintoxicating.Shealmostcouldn’twithstandthepressurebuildingbetweenherlegs,hissizeincreasingeverytimeheenteredher.Preparingforrelease.Theyweretwostraining,nakedbodiesinthedark,desperateasbeggars.
Sheclawedathisneck,pulledhishair,dugherheelsintohisthrustingass.Therewasnostayingstillwhenthehugestalkofhissexwasrubbingherclitrelentlesslyandhisfingerwasbrushingtheuntouchedringofherbackentrance,teasingit,jigglingit.God.God.
Voicespassedinthehallway,thefloorcreaking.EventhebathroomdoorhandlesqueakedlikesomeonewastryingtoturnitandWesdidn’tstop.Hefittheirmouthstogetherandkissedherlikethey’dnevergetanotherchance.Histonguemovedintimewithhislowerbodyanditwastoomuch.Sensoryoverload.
Wes’stempoturnedbruisingandBethany’sthighstrembleduncontrollablyfromtheirperchonhiships.“I’mgoingto,”shewhispered,clingingtohisshoulderslikeastarfishtoarock.“I’m…ohhhhhh.Nownownow.”
“AhJesus,thankfuck,”heconfidedhoarsely,slammingintoher,relentlessly.“Thepussyistoogood,baby.Ican’tholditback.”
“Hard,”shebreathed,tunnelingherfingersthroughhishairandyankinghismouthdowntohers,gratifiedbytheanimalisticwayheattackedherlips.Herclimaxsignaleditsimminentarrivalwithhotpulsesthatgrewmoreandmoreintense.“Putitinmehard.”
“Christ.Shutyourperfectlittlemouth,Bethany.I’mtryingnottoripthefuckingcondom,”hegritted,buthepummeledherfasterandharderregardless,hislipsmovingoverhers,tasting,theirtongueslappingandtangling.Hisholdonherbuttturnedbrutal,usinghisgriptoyankherdownintohisdrives—andhisferocityflippedaswitchinsideofher,pleasurepouringintohermidsectionandfloodinglower,pressurebuildingtothepointofpainbeforeimploding.“Goddamn,”Wesgroundout,pressinghertighttothewallwithhiships,hisstrongframeshakingviolently.“God,baby,”hepushedthroughgrittedteeth,breathcatching.“Beautifulwoman.Sobeautiful,youknowthat?Youmakemecomesohard.”
Theykindofjustmeltedoffthewall,Wes’sarmscominguparoundher,hisrecoverybreathsblowingaroundthehairathertemple.Hissexslippedfreeofherandsheimmediatelymissedtheconnection,butwasappeasedwhenhisthumbfoundthebaseofherneckandmassagedcirclesthere,hislipsbeginningtopresskissestoherhairline.Reverently.Anticipatingherneedforreassurancebeforeitevenarose.Andthatconsideration,thatcaringmadetheloveinsideherspoutlikeageyser.
Itshookherwithitsstrength.
Sayit.Sayyoulovehim.
Ithadtobetoosoontosaythosewords.Eonstoosoon.They’dbarelywarmedtotheideaofdatingeachotherexclusively.WhatifshefeltmoredeeplyforWesthanWesfeltforher?
No,itwasbesttomoveslower.
KeepherfingeronthepulseofrealityandmakesureWesfeltthesamewayaboutherbeforesherevealedherfeelings.Still…
Herheartachedtodosomething.Toexpressthewildfeelinginsideofher.
Shecouldn’tseemtosuppressit.
“Bethany?”
“WhatifyouandLauramoveinwithme?”ThankGodforthedarkness.Assoonasthosewordscameoutofhermouth,shefeltthemagnitudeofthemandpaniccrammedlikeafistintoherthroat.Hisfacewasprobablyamaskofutterhorror.Shecouldn’tevenhearhimbreathing.Washedead?Yes,probablyfromshockandfearofhisbunnybeingboiled.“Imeantlike…l-likepurelyasakindofbusinessarrangement.Youneedaplacetoliveand,well,yousaidthecourtwillneedtoconfirmthestabilityofherlivingenvironmentandIjustthought,youknow,myhousefitsthatbill.AndIhavetwoextrabedroomsnooneisusing.Itjustseemslike,Idon’tknow…Idon’tknow.”
“Abusinessarrangement,”Wessaidslowly.
Gratefulhe’dspokenatall,Bethanycontinuedinarush.“Well,ofcourse.Imean,we’renotlike,movingintogether.Thatwouldbelunacy.Thissoon…”
Weswassilentforlongmoments.“Ineedtoseeyourfacewhilewe’rehavingthisconversation,Bethany.”
Wasthatano?
Thepossibilityofrejectionclampedaroundherwindpipe.
OhGod,shewasgettingdizzy.
Shesliddownthewallandfeltaroundforherunderwearandyogapants,listeningtotheclangandzipofWesfasteninghisjeans,disposingofthecondom.Thesilencewasstiflinguntiltheroarinherearsfilledit.Assoonasthedooropened,shewasgoingtomakeanexcuseandgospendtheafternoonhidinginherclosetwithabottleoftequila.WhatinGod’snamehadshebeenthinking?
Wesbeathertoopeningthedoorandhisexpressionturnedshockedatwhateverhesawonherface.“OhJesus,”hechuckled,catchingheraroundthewaistbeforeshecouldflee.“Nope.You’restayingput.”
“Ihavetogo—”
“Youcould,butI’djustchaseyoudown.”
Hermouthsnappedintoastraightlineandshestaredathisshoulder,willingherhearttostopdoingcartwheels.“What?”
“What?”Hetippedherchinupsoshecouldwitnesshisincredulity.“Youaskedmetomoveinwithyouandthenyoucalleditabusinessarrangement.Aboutthirtysecondsafterweburnedthefuckingworlddown.SuemeifIcan’tfigureoutwherethehellwestand.”
“IjustknowIwanttohelp,”shewhispered.
Wesscrutinizedherface.“Isthattheonlyreasonyouwantmethere?”
Ofcourseitwasn’t.Notonlydidshelovetheman,sheadoredthechild.Butexposedandvulnerable,Bethanycouldonlygivetheslightestshakeofherhead.
Itmusthavebeenenough,becauseaffectionkindledinWes’seyes.Heleaneddownandkissedherforehead,saying,“Icanworkwiththat.”ChapterTwenty-Two
TheSuffolkCountyClerk’sOfficewasquietonaTuesdayafternoon.Wesstoodoutsideturninghishatoverinhishands,searchingtheparkinglotforhissister.He’dofferedtopickherupatthetrainstation,butshe’doptedtomakeherownwaythere,whichmadehimnervousashell.She’dagreedtomeethimtofilethePetitionofGuardianship,butshewasn’treliableonherbestday.
Comeon,Becky.Comethroughjustthisonce
Whenhe’dleft,BethanywashardatworkonProjectDoomsdaylayingtileinthebathroom,andhe’dtoldtheproducerhewasgoingouttograbsomelunch.Itdidn’tsitrightwithhim,leavingwithouttellingBethanywherehewasgoing.Hell,hewantedherthere.Badly.Butshewasalreadyadeerintheheadlightsafterhershockingoffertomovethemintoherhouseyesterday,sohewasforcinghimselftogivehersomebreathingroom.Enoughtorelaxher,butnotenoughtoletherthinkhewasgoinganywhere.
Yeah.BethanyCastledefinitelyhadhimwalkingonatightrope.
Goodthinghedidn’twantitanyotherway.
Thewomanwasinhisblood.Heunderstoodheralittlemoreeverytimesheletherguarddrop,andthoseoccurrenceswerebecomingmoreandmorefrequent.Hegotthefeelingshewasterrifiedofhimandmagnetizedbyhim,allatonce.Thesamewastrueforhim.
Lovewasopen-heartsurgerywithoutanesthesia.
Buthecouldn’tstayaliveunlessBethanysewedhimupwithashinynewticker.Onethatwouldbebiggerandhardierbecauseitcontainedherlove.Untilthen,hewasjustfightingforhislifeontheoperatingtable.
Hestartedtopaceonthesidewalk,twirlinghishataroundandaroundonhisindexfinger.HethoughtofBethanyashe’dlefther,coveredingrout,alineofconcentrationbetweenherbrows,thatsweettushintheair.
Okay,lovewasn’tallatouch-and-gooperation.
TherewastheI-see-Jesussex.
Therewasthewayshe’dbecomehisbestfriend.Thepersonheconfidedin.
Thegiggleshe’ddevelopedforhim—justforhim—wasworththenigglingworrythatshewouldchangehermind.ThatshecouldmovehimandLauraintoherhouseandgetsickofhim.HewastryingsohardnottothinkofBethany’shouseasthefifteenthhomehe’dlivedin,butthat’swhatitwas.Thedoubtinhisgutdidn’tmuchcarethatthewomanhelovedresidedthere.Itonlywantedtowhisperinhisearthatlivingwithherwouldbetemporary,likeeverythingelse.
Buthisheartsaidtrusther.Trustwhatyoufeel.
LordknewiftherewasanapartmentinPortJeffersonavailable,hewouldconsidertakingitandgivingBethanymoretimetogetusedtohim.Tothefactthathewasinthisforthelonghaul.NotonlybeingLaura’sguardianoraPortJeffersonresident,butherman.Iamherman.Theywereonanacceleratedtimelineandthepossessivesonofabitchinsideofhimlikedthat,becausethesooneritwasunderstoodbyGodandeveryonethattheywereacouple,thesoonerhecouldstophavingnightmaresaboutherdroppinghimforsomeappropriatelyagedchumpwithaseven-figurebankaccount.
Agrowlscrapedaroundinhisthroat
Heslappedthehatdownonhisheadandsnatchedthecelloutofhisjeanspocket,hittingBethany’snumberonhisfavoriteslist.Sheansweredonthesecondring,thesoundofpowerdrillssinginginthebackground.
“Hi.”
Damn,shesoundedsosweet.Didshemisshim?Hehadbeengonealmostafullfortyminutes,includingthedriveandthewait.
Christ.Listentoyourself.You’reagoner.
“Hey,”hesaid,willingfirmnessintohistone.“Isthatoffertomoveinstillgood?”
“Yes,ofcourse.”
Hisheartgotarunningstartandtackledhislungs.“Good.Butlet’sgetonethingstraight,darlin’.I’mnotsleepinginmygirlfriend’sguestroom.You’regettingmeinyourhouseandyourbed,ornothingatall.”
Bethanywassilentlongenoughtomakehimsweat.“IthinkIcanagreetothoseterms.”Wasthatasmileinhervoice?
Theweightflewfromhisshoulders.“Allright,then.”
“Wes?”
“Yeah,baby?”
“WhatwouldyouhavedoneifI’dcalledyourbluff?”
Admirationspreadlikebutterinhischest,hismouthformingaslowsmile.“Movedinanywayandseducedyou.”
Therewasthatbeautifulgiggle.“Ohyeah?How?”
“Foughtwithyouuntilyourealizedyou’recrazyaboutme,”hedrawled.“Thatmethodseemstoworkonyoulikeacharm.”
“Youmightberight,”shemurmuredafterseveralbeats.“Iwasthinkingyoucouldbringsomethingstomorrownightafterwork.Ishouldhavetheroomsreadybythen.”
“Room,Bethany.Singular.”
“Ohyeahhh,that’sright.Almostforgot.”
Herelaxedwhenheheardthecheekysmileinhertone.“ClosethebathroomdooruntilIgetback.Yourbuttlooksinsaneinthosepants.”
“Chauvinist.”
“What’smineismine.”
Shegroaned,butheheardthedoorshut.
“What’syoursisyours,too,Bethany.Yougoingtohangontome?”
Weshungupbeforeshecouldanswer.Hewasafraidtohearasinglenoteofuncertainty,worriedwhatitwoulddotohim.Hangingupwithoutsayinggood-byebotheredhim,however,sohestartedtodialhernumberagain—butthatwaswhenashadowdarkenedhisshoesandhelookeduptofindhissister.
Slowly,heputawaythecellphone.“Areyouready?”
“Yeah.”Shenoddedjerkily,buthecouldseeinhereyesthatshe’drealizedlettinghimbeLaura’sguardianuntilshegotbackonherfeetwastherightthingtodo.“Yeah,I’mready.”
Awhilelater,whenhesignedthedocuments,heputdownBethany’saddressasLaura’spermanentresidenceandignoredthefeelingofdivingwithoutaparachute.
Wednesdaywasn’tsomuchamovingdayasitwasWesandLaurathrowingduffelsintothebackofhistruck.Mostofthethingsinsidethehousebelongedtohissister,andatsomepoint,hewouldprobablyneedtohelphermovethem,butasforhisownpossessions?Thereweren’tmany.He’darrivedinPortJeffersonwithhiswallet,someclothes,andacowboyhat.Notmuchhadbeenaccumulatedsincethen.
He’dcomehomelastnightafterfilingthepaperswiththecountyclerkandtoldLauratheyweremovingintoElsa’sicecastle,butithadbeendisguisedasahousetokeepherpowersasecret.Atthetime,she’dlaughedandseemedexcited.Nowthattheywereenroute,though,shewasclutchingherteddybearalittletootightly,soinsteadofgoingstraighttoBethany’shouse,hedrovetoMainStreetandparkedinfrontoftheicecreamshop.
Wesunhookedherfromherboosterseatandheldherhandonthewayinside,lettingherorderanextrascoopwithrainbowsprinklesandgummybears.TheysatinthewindowquietlyforafewminuteswhileWestriedtofigureouthowthehelltoapproachthetopicofherobviousstress.
Twofemalesandtheircomplicatedmindsweregoingtokillhim.
Hecouldalreadytell.
“Hey.”Henudgedhisvanilla-chocolateswirlacrossthetable.“Youwanttotrymine?”
“No.”
Heretreated.Tookafewmorebites.“Whatareyouthinkingabout?”
“Nothing.”
Inwardlyhesighed.Lookedlikehewouldhavetogivealittleofhimselftogetthetruthoutofher.Confidinginpeoplewassomethinghe’donceavoidedatallcosts.Whowantedothersknowingtheyhadsorespotsandweaknesses?ButgettingtoknowBethany,Stephen,Travis,andDominichadmadehimrealize…everyonehadweaknesses.Theyjustcameindifferentsizesandshapes.Maybehecouldimpartsomeofthatwisdomonhisniece.“Youknow,thisisgoingtobethefifteenthhouseI’velivedin.”
Shealmostdroppedherspoon.“Really?”
“Uh-huh.”
“HowmanyhaveIlivedin?”
“Ithinkthiswillbethreeorfour,kid.Butyouknowthegoodnews?You’renevergoingtocatchupwithme.Leastnotuntilyou’reanoldladywithacane.Maybenoteventhen,becauseI’mnotgoingtoletthathappen.”Hepaused,searchingfortherightwords.“IknowwhenIgothere,itseemedlikeIwasgoingtoleave.That’swhatIwasusedtodoing.Butyouhadtogoandbewonderful.Myplanschangedandtheyincludeyounow.”
Asparkofjoywentoffinhereyes,butitfadedlittlebylittleandshecontinuedtotapherspoonagainstthetipofhericecreammountain.“Iwanttomove.I’mhappywegettolivewithElsa.”
Wesfrowned.Didn’tseethatonecoming.“Explainthepout,then.”
“I’mnotpouting,”sheexclaimed,rearingback.
Hehelduphishands.“Mymistake.”
Theywentbacktoeatingsilentlyforawhile,butWescouldseeshewasworkingonwhatevershewantedtosay.“Thismeansmymomisn’tcomingback.”
Hisspoonslowedonitswaytohismouth.“Shewantstocomeback,Laura.Thisjustmeanssheneedsmoretimetodoit.”
Slowly,shelaiddownherutensilandstaredatthetable.“Itmakesmefeelbadtobehappy.”
Ittookhimabeattountanglethat,butunderstandingdawned.“Ah.Isee.”Heswallowed.“Youfeelguiltyfornotwantingyourmomtocomehome.”
Sheshruggedhertinyshoulders.“It’sjustbetternow.Withyou.”
Weschosehiswordscarefully.Ifhe’dlearnedanythingfromBethany,itwasthatwomendidn’talwaysneedasolution,theyjustneededtogetshitofftheirchests.Hisniecedefinitelydidn’tneedtohearshewaswrongforthinkingacertainway,buthewantedtohelpabsolveherofthenaturalguiltallthesame.“Hey.”
Lauraglancedup.“What?”
“Didyouknowthatonlygoodpeoplecanfeelguilty?”
Shequirkedaskepticaleyebrow,buthehadherattention.
“It’strue.Thinkaboutit.Youfeelguiltybecauseyouthinkyourfeelingsmighthurtyourmomifshefoundout.”Hewaitedforherreluctantnod.“Ifyouwereabadperson,youwouldn’tcareifyouhurtsomeoneelse.”
“Oh,”shemurmured.“Butitwouldstillhurther.”
“Maybe.Yeah.Butit’snotyourjobtomakeotherpeoplehappy,kid.Especiallynotthepeoplewhoaresupposedtobemakingyouhappy.”Heleanedbackinhischairandgaveheranarrow-eyedlook.“UnlessyouwanttoletsomebodysleeppastsixA.M.onceinawhile.Thatwouldbetotallyacceptable.”
Finally,hecaughttheghostofasmile,buthereyeswerestilltroubled.
“Tellyouwhat,”hesaid.“Ithinkit’sokaytobehappywe’removinginwithBethany.Whydon’tyouletyourselfbehappyfornow,aslongasyougiveMomachancewhenshe’sabletocomeback?Doesthatseemfair?”
“Istillwon’twantto.Because…ifshecomesback,you’llleave.”
“No.”Heshookhishead,mostlyathimself,forneglectingtofindtherootoftheproblemsooner.Hehadn’trealizedLaurawasafraidofhimleaving,becausenoonehadeverreallybeenafraidofthatbefore.“I’mstickingaroundeitherway,Laura.Thisismyhomenow.Withyou.”
Tearsfloodedhereyes.“AndElsa?”
“Yeah.”Hisownvoicewasalittlescratchy.“AndElsa.”
Hopefully
Laurahoppedoutofherseatandrantowardhimaroundthetable,wrappingherarmsaroundhisneck.“Iloveyou.”
Aknotformedinhisthroat.“Iloveyou,too.”
“Canwegototheicecastlenow?”
Helaughed,tryingtobeinconspicuousaboutswipingathiseyes.“We’dbetter.It’srudetokeepprincesseswaiting.”
Weswasnotsupposedtobethenervousone.
Bethanyhadenoughnervesforthebothofthem.Nottomention,heneededtobeconfidentforhisniece’ssake.Hedidn’twanttopresentsomemirageofstabilityforthecourts—heneededittobetrue.
ButheprobablyshouldhavepaidavisittoBethany’shousepriortomovinginbecausehewasnotprepared.ItwaslikesteppingintoaHouseBeautifulcenterfold.Therewasaplateoffreshlybakedchocolatechipcookiesontheentrytable,arrangedinperfectstackswithpurpleflowerpetalsservingasdecoration.Candlesflickeredinhugeglassglobesfromtheirplacesonshelvesandherimmaculatekitchencountertops.
Hercarpetandfurnitureandgoddamnneareverythingwaspristinewhite.
Hewasmovingafive-year-oldintothisplace?
BethanyhadsteppedasidetolettheminandwasnowcroucheddownofferingLauraacookielikesomegorgeousdomesticgoddess,buthisniecewastooagogathersurroundingstoreachfortheperfectlyroundedbakedgoods.
“Itisanicepalace,”Laurawhispered.
Bethany’ssmilefalteredalittleandshestood,nearlyfumblingtheplateofcookiesuntilWesgrippedherelbowandsteadiedher.“Hey.”Heleanedinandkissedhermouthsoftly.“Everythinglooksamazing.”
Shevisiblycalmed,andinturn,Wesdid,too.Beingabletopinpointherinsecuritiesandtalkheroutofthemreassuredhimthattheycoulddothis.
Theycouldnot,however,keepthisplacesparklingcleanforever.
WescaughtLaurabythebackofherhoodiebeforeshecouldstepherdirtysneakeronthecarpet.“Shoesoff,kid.”Hetoedoffhisboots.“Here,look.I’lldomine,too.”
“Iseveryonehungry?”Bethanyaskedbrightly,sailingofftowardthekitchen.“Imadespaghettisauce—Ijusthavetoheatitup.IwasthinkingwecouldgocheckoutLaura’sroomfirstandtheneat?”
Lord,thepoorwoman.Herhearthadtobebeatingathousandmilesanhour.“Thatsoundsperfect,darlin’.”
“Great.”Sheturnedonatoeandgesturedforthemtofollowherdownthehallway.“Okay,so,it’snotdecoratedforayoungladyjustyet,Laura,butIthoughtwecouldchatandcomeupwithyourowndesign?Ormaybeyouwantacertaintheme…”
Sheopenedthedoortorevealaroomonemightrefertoasachamber.
Moreflickeringcandles.Afluffycream-coloredbedspread.
Amountainofbeadedthrowpillows.
Thickmaroondrapes.
Achandelier.
“Thisismyroom?”
Wesheldhisbreath,onlylettingitoutwhenhisniecesquealedindelightandcannonballedintothecenterofthebed.Bethanyslumpedagainstthedoorjamb,hereyesclosingmomentarily,andwithoutneedingtothink,hereachedoverandbraidedtheirfingerstogether,bringingherhandtohismouthandrestinghislipsonherwiredpulse.Willingittosettle.
Butitspikedasecondlaterwhenhisniecerolledoverandsatup,hairineighteendirections.“Whereareyousleeping,UncleWes?”
Bethanyshifted.“Oh,um…”
Laurawiggledtotheedgeofthebedandleaptoff,dashingbetweenWesandBethanytoanopendoordirectlyacrossthehall.Shepushedthedooropenwider,disappearingintothedarkness.Wesfollowed,flippingonthelighttofindabedroommuchlikeLaura’s,onlywithaforest-greencolorscheme.“You’llberightacrossfromme!”
Bethanyturnedtohimwithabemusedlook.“Yes,isn’tthatawesome?”
“Guesswebettereaseintothis,”hemuttered.
“I’llmissyoutonight,”shewhisperedonherwayoutthedoor.
“That’scutethatyouthinkyou’llgetthechance,”Wescalledafterher.
AssoonasBethanywasoutofsight,heletoutabreathandleanedbackagainstthebedroomwall.Ifbothfemaleswerehappy,hewoulddeemthemove-inasuccess.Hemightbenursingtheworrythathedidn’tbelonginthisperfectpostcardofahouse—hell,he’doncespentaweekinbetweenapartmentssleepinginabuddy’svan,andthathadonlybeenagoddamnyearago—butheneededtoputhisinsecuritiesasideandfocusonmakingtheirrelationshipstronger.
HavingBethanyinhislifewasworththeself-doubt.Shewaswortheverything.Andwhenitcametostability,hecouldn’taskforabetterlivingsituationforhisniece.Soifhewasfeelingcompletelyoutofplaceandhisoldfearsofbeingsomeone’spitstopwerestartingtomaketheirwaytotheforefront,heneededtosuckitupandignorethem.ChapterTwenty-Three
Bethanysatattheendofherbedslowlypullingabrushthroughherhair.
She’dlitthefireinherhearthforthefirsttimethisfallandshesmiledintoitnow,theheatitexudedmatchingthewarmthinsideofher.ThefeelofLaura’sbedtimehugstillclungtoher,asdidthepromissorykissWesdeliveredbeforeshe’dgoneupstairstobed—andifshekeptthinkingaboutit,shewasn’tgoingtoneedthefiretostaywarm.
Fallingbackonherbed,sheletthehairbrushdropovertheedgetothecarpetandstaythere.She’dpickitupwhenshedarnwellfeltlikeit.Thesesmallactsofrebellionagainstherperfectionistnaturewerestartingtocomeeasiernow.Thoughtheywouldbeanecessitynow,withachildinthehouse.Thereweregoingtobestainsandspilledfoodandtracked-inmud—andsowhat?
Ifshegotthishappinessinreturn?Worthit.
Worthittimesamillion.
Tonightafterthey’deatenspaghettiandlistenedtostoriesaboutLaura’sdayatschool,Weshadhelpedhercleanupthekitchenwhilehisnieceliterallycrash-landedonthecouch.Therehadbeenalittlelurchinherchestwhenthethrowpillowswentflying,andLauradefinitelyhadn’twashedthemarinarasauceoffherfaceandhands,butitwasnothingalittlespotcleanercouldn’tfix.Andmaybeitwastimetothinkaboutnewcouchesanyway!Somethinginacolorthatdidn’tshowoffeveryspeckofdustthatlandedonit
MaybeWescouldhelpherpickthemout.
Wow,themereactofthinkinghisnamemadetheshortsilkrobefeelextradecadentonherskin.She’dleftthelightsoff,castingtheroominnothingbutfirelight.Thedancingflamesflickeredonthewallsandherexposedflesh,remindingherofhands.Hishands.
AsmuchasshelovedhisritualofreadingtoLaurainherroomeverynight,shecouldn’twaitforhimtocomeupstairs.Notonlybecauseshecravedtheconfident,possessive,starving-manwayhetouchedher,butbecauseshewantedtotalktohim.Shewasn’ttheonlyonedealingwiththesehugechanges.Inthespaceofaweek,he’dappliedtobecomeachild’sguardianandmovedinwithhis…girlfriend.
ShewasWes’sgirlfriend.
Thesmilethattransformedhermouthwaskindofdelirious—anditwasstillinplacewhentherewasaknockonherdoor.Bethanyjackknifedsosuddenlyshegotlightheaded,butmanagedtofallsidewaysontoherelbowinaseductiveposewithouttumblingoffthebed.“Comein,”shecalled.
ThedoorswungopeninaslowarcandtherewasWes,provingtheirstatusastotaloppositesbyarrivingshirtlessinsweatpants,whileshewaslotionedtodeathinasilknegligee.
“Ifeeloverdressed,”shesaid.
“Havetoagree,”hedrawled,saunteringin,allloose-hippedandcocky,kickingthedoorshutbehindhim.“Don’tworry,Ihaveaplantofixit.”
“Oh,doyou—”
BethanybrokeoffwithayelpwhenWessnaggedherankleinano-nonsensegrip.Shewasflippedontoherbackandpulledtotheedgeofthemattress,thesilkofherlingeriedragginghigherandhigher,untilitbunchedbeneathherbreasts.Withadangerouswink,Wesleaneddownandkissedherbellybuttonwithhishotbreath.“Thatgotyourpantiesshowing,anyway.”Henippedthewaistbandwithhisteethandherfleshsanglikeachoirofangels.“Prettylittlething,isn’tit?”Thetipofhistonguegrazedthesilk.“Let’sseewhatit’shiding.”
“Wait.”Shelaughedthroughawaveofarousal.“Wait…”
WassheborrowingtroubleorwasWescomingonevenstrongerthanusual?Godknewshedidn’tmind—sheachedforhisweightontopofher—buttherewasanalmostinaudiblewhisperinherearsayingsomethingwasoff.They’djusttakenthishugestepofmovingintogetherandtheyshouldtalk.Howwashehandlingeverything?Howdidhebringupthesubjectofmovingtohisnieceandwhatdidshesay?Didhelikeherhouseordidhethinkitresembledanicecastle?
Wesdroppedhisforeheadtoherbelly.“Stopthinking,Bethany.”
Wasthereanedgetohisvoice?“Ijustthoughtwe’dtalkforawhile,”shesaid,scootingoutfrombeneathhimandrisingfromthebed,theheatfromthefirelickingherbarecalvesandthighs.“Wehaveallnight,right?Wehaveeverynight.”
Whentheyfoundher,hiseyeshadsoftenedsomewhat.Didthatmeanthey’dbeenhardbefore?“Ofcoursewedo.”Wesclosedthedistancebetweenthemandusedthetieofherrobetopullherintohisarms,restinghischeekonthetopofherhead.“What’sonyourmind,baby?”
“You.”
Hishardbodystiffenedadegree.“Me?”
Sheleanedawaytolookupathim.“Uh.Yes,you,Wes.You’retakingonallthisnewresponsibilitywhenyouweren’tevenplanningonstayingintown—”
“NowIamstaying,”hebrokein,reachingdowntounknotthetieofherrobeandpushitoffhershoulders.“It’sassimpleasthat.”
Whatwasgoingonwithhim?“It’sjustahugestep.”
“Whydon’tyoujusttellmewhatyou’reworriedabout?”hesaidcalmly.
Toocalmly?
“I’mnotworriedaboutanything,”shesaidquietly.“Iwanttoknowifthereisanythingworryingyou.”
“Notadamnthing,”hesaidinafirmvoice,tippingupherchinsoshecouldlookhimintheeye.“I’mrocksolid,Bethany.Okay?Putyourfaithinme.I’mherewithyoubecauseyou’vebeenmywomansincethebeginning,evenbeforeyourealizedoracceptedit.I’mstandingrighthereandI’mstayingrighthere.ThereisnothingyouoranyonecoulddotomakemewanttobesomewhereIcouldn’tholdyou.”
Shewasatalossforwords,herheartknockingwildlyagainstherears.Whatcouldshesaytosomethingsobeautiful?Thatshelovedhim,yes.ButGod,they’dmovedintogethertwohoursago;therewasplentyoftimeforthat.“Wes,”shewhispered,slidingherhandsuphischest,intohishair.“Ineedyou.”
Theyweren’tthewordsonherheart.Butshestillmeantitinawaythatwentbeyondphysicalneed.Sheneededhispresence,hislove,hisheart,hischaracter,hishumor,hisselflessness,hisloyalty,andhisTexastemper.Sheneededallofit.AndshewantedtoclarifythattoWes,buthesaid,“Goddamn,Ineedyou,too,baby,”ashismouthtraveleddownthecolumnofherthroat,backupthesideofherneckandintoherhair,messingitupalongwithanysemblanceofrationalthoughtorself-control.
Greedyhandsshovedatthestrapsofhernegligee,yankingitdowntoherwaistsohecouldgethismouthonherbreasts.Assoonasthesilkfelltothefloor,leavingherinnothingbutpanties,hishandstookholdofherbacksideandliftedBethanyontohertoessohecouldsuckhernipples,drawingthemintothewarmthofhismouthwithlong,gutturalgroansandteasingherwithflickeringlicks.
BothtimessheandWeshadmadelove,therewasawickedurgencybehindit,butBethanysensedachangeinhimtonight.Somethingdifferent.Almostlikehewasdesperatetooverwhelmhersensesandfortunately—orunfortunately—itwasworking.Sowell.Hedidn’tlethercomeupforaironce,hismouthworkingmagiconherbreasts,hisindexfingershookinginthesidesofherpantiesandsendingthemfloatingtoherankles.Itwaseverythingshecoulddojusttokeepherbalance.
“I’mrocksolid,”hesaid,findinghermouthoncemoreanddemolishingitwithahot,maraudingtongue.“You’renotjustgettingwordstonight,either.You’regoingtofeelit.”Heslappedherbottom,enoughtosmart,enoughtorakeherbodywithgoosebumpsandstealherbreath.“You’llfeelitbestfromyourhandsandknees.Willyoudothatforme?”
“Yes,”sherasped,trembling.Likeshecouldsayno?Hersexwasdampinhishonor,clenching,lookingforthathardpartofhimtofillit.Noneofherboyfriendshadeverdaredtospankherbefore,either,andamanshetrusteddoingsuchathingallowedhertoenjoytheexhilarationleftinitswake—andGoddidsheever.Shewantedtogetonherhandsandkneesforhimandbetheobjectofhisrevelry.
BethanyturnedandpressedherbacktoWes’sfront,skimmingthecurveofherbuttsidetosideonhislap,elicitingafrustratedmalegroan,beforesinkingtoherknees.Andthenforwardontoherhands.Thefireplacecastaglow,allowinghertoseethesilhouetteofhernakedbodyontheoppositewall,anditrippedamoanfromherthroat.Amoanthatturnedintoacryof“Now,now,now”whenWespositionedhimselfbehindher,seeingtotheirprotectionbeforeheftingherhipshigherwithaforearm.“Feelthis,baby.”Heworkedhisshaftintoherandpressedhimselfdeep—Goditwassogood,sogood—settingoffanerotictrembleinBethany’sthighs.“Doesthatfeellikeamanwhodoesn’tknowexactlywhathewants?”
“No,”shegaspedwhenhestartedtomove.“Wes…”
“Howaboutnow?”Hefellontopofher,stoppingjustshortofcrushinghertotheground,alwayskeepingherhipselevatedwiththatpowerfularm—andheslappedhislowerbodytighttoherbottomoverandoverandoveragain,hiserectionfillingherwithdeliberate,slipperydrives.“ThatfeellikeIcouldlivewithoutyouforafuckingsecond,Bethany?”
Anintenseshudderpassedthroughher,makingastopatherheart,electrifyingit.God,shelovedthisman.Hecouldanchorherandsendhersoaringinthesamemoment.“No,”shemanagedonanunevenexhale.“Youcouldn’t.”
“No.Icouldn’t,”hegrittedintothecrookofherneck,theforceofhisthruststurningpunishing.“Fuck.You’reeventighterlikethis.Icanfeelyougettingreadytocome,butyou’regoingtostaywithmealittlelonger.Youworkmycocksogoodwhenyou’reclimbing.Dirtyanddesperate,huh?”
Shenoddedsoshewouldn’thavetoissueaverbalguaranteethatshe’dholdoffherclimax.Histhicknesswasenteringherfromananglethatgaveheranewappreciationformath,becauseitdoledoutcontinuousfrictiontoherclitandherG-spotuntilshewaspantingdownattherugandprayinghedidn’tchangethepaceorthosesnappingupthrusts.Don’tchange.Neverchange.GoodGod,shesoundedlikeabadyearbookinscription.
“Noyoudon’t,”Wesmutteredhoarselyintoherhair.“You’reperfect.”
Wait.Wasshetalkingoutloud?Whoknew.Whocared?“More.Please.”
“I’mheretogiveyoueverythingyouwant,”hegrowled,pressinghisupperbodydownjustthosefewinchesmoreuntilhercheekwasflushtothecarpet,assintheair,Wes’shipssmackingintohersrelentlessly.“I’mnotgoinganywhere.Don’t…letmego.Anywhere.”
“Iwon’t.Iwon’t.”Theirvoicessoundeddistantandsheknewtherewassomethingsheneededtoremember.Whatdidhemean,don’tlethimgo?Butthearmholdingupherhipsshiftedandhisfingersjoinedthesensualattackonherclit—anditwasgameover.Bethanyspreadherthighstoallowhimevendeeperandthepleasureraineddownonherheadlikeliquidcandy.Herorgasmwassogood,itwasexcruciating.Andendless.ButwhenWesgroanedhernameaboveherheadandslammeddeepthatfinaltime,hisbigbodyshaking,shehitpeakfulfillment.
Becausetheyweretheretogether.
Momentslater,hecradledherbonelessbodyinhisarmsandcarriedhertothebed.HesettledBethanycarefullydownonherbackandclimbedinbesideher,curvinghisfronttoherback.Holdinghertightlyinthefirelight.
Justbeforesleepclaimedher,aworrycreptinthatnothingcouldremainthisgoodforlong,butitdancedawaywithherconsciousnessbeforeshecoulddwellonit.ChapterTwenty-Four
ItwasFridaymorning,theirfinaldaytoworkonProjectDoomsday,andeverythingwasinastateofutterchaos.OllieandCarlwereinthehallwayandthesecondbedroomapplyinglast-minutecoatsofpaint.Bethanywasinstallinglightfixturesandsconcesfromherperchonastepladderwhilesimultaneouslydirectingthefurnituredeliverymenwhowerecartingintheitemsshe’dselected.Weswasputtingfinishingtouchesonthebuilt-inbookcase,cowboyhatlongsincediscardedonthefloor.Eventheproductioninternshadhoppedintodirecttheplumbersandbuildinginspectorswhoweremakingtheirfinalroundsandapprovingallthechanges.
Theyhaduntiltomorrowmorningtomakelast-minutefixes,thenthejudgeswouldarrivetofilmthefinalsegmentanddeclareawinner.
Bethanywouldlikelyspendthewholenightstagingsothehousewouldbecameraready.Itwouldbedifferentthistime,however.She’dhadahandineverylittledetailofthishome,fromthedirectionofthegraininthefloorboardstothebacksplashtile.Shehadgroutunderherfingernailsfromtilingthebathroomandasoreneckfrompaintingtheceiling.Eventhoughshe’dalmostgoneass-over-teakettleofftheroof,she’dhauledherbuttbackupthereandfinishedthejob—Weskeepingaverycloseandirritableeyeonher.Butstill.
Whenshe’dthrowndownthegauntletwithStephenatthewedding,she’dthoughtthewholeexperiencewouldbesummedupbyvictoryordefeat.Thatwasnolongertrue.She’dalreadywon.
Or,rather,shewaswinning.
Shecouldn’tbecomeadifferentpersonovernight,butchangeswerehappeninginsideofher.Positiveones.Shenolongerhadtohidetheredmarkonherneckbecauseitwasgone.Whenshestoodinfrontofherclosetinthemorning,shenolongerwentthroughamentalchecklistofeveryonewhowouldseeherthatdayanddressaccordingly.Shedidn’thavetogothroughbreathingexercisesbeforesettingfootonthejobsite.Everyminuteofherdaydidn’thavetobespenttryingtomakethenextminutecount.Andthismorningwhenshe’ddrivenLauratoschool,she’dsaid,“Iloveyou,too,”whenthecrossingguardcalled,“Goodmorning,”andshe’donlydwelledonitforlike,tenminutes.
Feelingalittlezinginherspine,Bethanypausedintheactofscrewinginanenergy-efficientlightbulbandcastalookacrosstheroomtofindWeswatchingher.Watchingandappreciatingherasifthereweren’ttwocameramencapturingtheireverymove.Hedraggedhistonguealonghislowerlipandsentherawink.Therewasatimewhenshewouldhaverolledhereyesathimorflippedhimthebird,butnow?Oh,nowalltheelementsofspringseemedtobloominherbellyatonce.Flowersunfolded,birdschirped,sunshineblazed.
BethanyCastlehadalive-inboyfriend.
Whowouldhavebelievedit?
Nother,aslittleastwoweeksago.
Still,tinyfingersofskepticismskimmedthewatersofhersubconsciouseveryonceinawhile,andshecouldn’tseemtohelpit.WhatifWeshadn’tneededastablelivingenvironmentforLaura?Wouldheeverhavemovedin?Wouldhehaveeventuallygottenhisfillofherandfoundsomeonelessneurotic?
Fromacrosstheroom,WesshookhisheadatBethanyandshequicklydisguisedherthoughtswithasmile.GoodGod.Whywassheborrowingtrouble?Shehadaboyfriendwhoheldherthroughthenightliketheywerefendingoffawindstormtogether—andshelovedhim.Withachildinthehouse,herlifewassuddenlyaPandora’sboxofcrayoncrumblesandchocolatesmears,butthosethingswereslowlyteachingherhowoverratedperfectionwas.Whocaredwhatgotmessyaslongaseveryonewaslaughing?
Andlaughtheydid.Thismorning,Laurahadbeenlyinginwaitoutsidethebathroomtojumpoutandscaretheshitoutofher.She’dflailedlikeoneofthoseused-car-lotinflatablesandknockedapictureoffthewall,landingsmackonherbutt,allwhilestillinhertowel.Weshadcomerushingupthestairstohelpher,hisperplexedhorrorbringingthehilariousnessofthewholesituationintosharpfocus.Iftheydidn’thaveahousetofinishflippingbytomorrow,BethanymightstillbeonthefloorlaughingfacedownintothecarpetwithLauraperchedonherback,holleringforBethanytoactlikeabuckingbronco.
Howwouldshehavespentthemorningbefore?
Agonizingoverflowerarrangementsandwhichflavorofteatodrink?
Oh,shestillhadthingstoagonizeabout.Hermotherhadcaughtwindofhernewlivingarrangementsandleftapproximatelyseventeenpassive-aggressivemessagesonhervoicemail.Bethanycouldn’treallyblameher,either.Afamilydinnerwitheveryonewaslongpastdue.WesandLaurawereapartofherlifenowandsheneededtostopwaitingforsomenonexistentshoetodrop.
“Hey,”shecalledtoWes.
Werehiseyessparklingashesaunteredcloser?Washemagical?Howhadsheeverspentaseconddenyingherattractiontothisman?“Yeah,darlin’?”
“Iwasthinking,youknow…aftertomorrowwheneverythingdiesdown,wecouldinvite—”
Wes’sphonetrilled,cuttingheroff.“Keepgoing,”hesaid,wavingitoff.
“No,itcouldbesomethingaboutLaura.Youshouldgetit.”
Hestudiedherforanotherbeat,thenanswered.“Hello?”Afterafewsecondsoflistening,hisdemeanorchanged.“Yes,thisisWesDaniels.”Hecoveredthereceiver.“Familycourt.”
Bethanywasn’tgivenachancetoreact.Withoutdisconnectingthecall,WeswrappedanarmaroundBethany’sthighsandhauledheroffthesteppingstoolandoutofthehouse.Theyleftabunchofconfusionandamusementintheirwake,butshewaswaymoreinterestedinthephonecallandthefactthatWeswantedhertherebyhissidewhilehetookit.
“Yes,”hesaid,settingBethanydownandclosingthedoorbehindthem,motioningforeveryoneonthelawntobequiet.“Youwanttodothehousevisittonight?”WesturnedinacirclewhilerakingahandthroughhishairandBethanyknewwhathesaw.Hoursofmanuallaborthathadyettobecompleted.“Tonightisgoingtobehard.Isthereanywaywecouldshootfor—”
Bethanywavedherhandsathim.“Sayyes,”shewhispered.“Yes.We’llmakeitwork.”
WordlesslyheaskedifshewassureandBethanynoddedvigorously.“I…Yes,tonightisfine.”Heclearedhisthroat.“Sixo’clock.We’llseeyouthen.”
WeshungupthephoneandreachedforBethany,butshewasalreadyonherwaytohim.Helockedherinanembraceandtheystayedthatwayforlongmoments,swayingsidetoside.“Shesaysthey’lllikelyapprovethetemporaryguardianshipifthevisitgoeswelltonight,”hesaid.
“Itwill,”Bethanyresponded.“Ofcourseitwill.”
IftherewasonethingBethanyknewhowtodo,itwascharm.Shemightaswellhavemajoredinschmoozingincollege,withaminorinsweet-talkingpeoplewithclipboards.Theyhadthisinthebag.WesandLauraweredependingonherandshewouldn’tletthemdown.
SomethingwaseatingatWes’sgut,buthecouldn’tquitegiveitaname.
HesatonthecouchwithLaurabesidehim,tryingtoconcentrateonreadingherJudyMoody,butBethanykeptdrawinghisattentiontowhereshebustledbackandforthinthekitchen.
Shewasinherelementarrangingchocolatesonaplateandlightingcandles.Herhairwaspulledup,diamondswinkinginherears.Sheworesomekindoftightblackone-shoulderdressthatshowedoffherlegs.Gonewasthewomanwho’dbeenstreakedwithpaintinlost-causeworkoutpantsthatafternoon.Shewassobeautiful;hecouldbarelyhearhisownvoiceovertherapofhisheartbeat.Therewasajangleinhernerves,too,though,anditwasimpossibletoignore.
He’ddoneenoughresearchtoknowthatifthecourt-appointedvisitordidn’tapprovethehomeasasuitableplaceforLaura,theycouldpotentiallyappealthedecisionandtryagain.Hewasgoingtoseetheguardianshipthrough,onewayoranother.That’snotwhatworriedhim.ItwasBethany.Theirrelationshipwassonew,andwhileshe’dgrownmorerelaxedandcomfortableinherownskin,hecouldstillsenseheroccasionalpanicwhentheirnewlivingsituationturnedherintoafishoutofwater.
Shemightbeworryinglessandlessaboutbeingperfect,butthissingle-mindedintensityshewasputtingintotonightremindedhimofBethanyBefore.Hewasafraidiftheyfailed,heroldinsecuritiesmightcometumblingbackout.
Therewasananxiousfeelinginhisguttellinghimtonight’sdecisioncouldputacrackdownthecenterofwhatthey’dbuilt.Hadheputtoomuchpressureonher?Hewastheonewho’dsaidtheywouldtakethingsslowly.MaybeheshouldhavetriedhardertofindanapartmentforhimandLaurawhileheandBethanygrewstronger?
Asswiftlyashisworriesrosetothesurface,hestuffedthembackdown.Therewasonlyenoughroomforonenervouspersoninthishouseandhe’dalreadydecideditcouldn’tbehim.HeneededtobethepictureofconfidenceatalltimesuntilBethanyknewforcertainhewasn’tbudging.Untilthenandaslongassheneeded,hewasaboulderwithoutasinglecrack.Solid.
ThedoorbellrangandLaura’sheadpoppedup.“Isthatthem?”
HisexplanationtoLaurahadgonelikethis:ThetownhadgrownsuspiciousthatBethany’shousereallywasanicepalacebeingdisguisedbymagic.Someoneneededtocomeoverandconfirmnoshenanigansweretakingplace.“Yes,that’sthem.”Herosefromthecouchandpulledhisniecetoherfeet.“Whydon’tyougograboneofthosechocolatesBethanyputout?Washyourhandsafterward.”
“’Kay!”
LauraranoffandWesletoutalongbreath,movingtotheentrywayandmeetingBethanyinfrontofthedoor.Shesqueezedhishandandsteppedbacksohecouldopenit,revealingathinwomaninhersixties,armscrossed,withnotsomuchasahintofasmileonherface.Onceagain,Wesexperiencedthatominousclickinhisgut.“DanielsandCastleresidence?”
“Yes,”Bethanysaidbrightly.“Pleasecomein.”
Thewomanenteredthehouseunceremoniously,hereyesseemingtolandeverywhereatonce.“MynameisPaula.”SheproducedabusinesscardfromherjacketpocketandhandeditovertoWes.“Justgoaboutyournightnormally,please.Idon’trequireaguidedtour.I’llhavealookaroundmyself.”
“Oh,okay,”Bethanysaidhaltingly.“CanIgetyouanythingtodrink?Coffee?”
“No,thankyou,”Paulareplied,alreadybreezingpastthem.
WessteppedclosetoBethanyandtookherhand,butitwasclammynowwherebeforeitwaswarm.“Hey.Comereadwithus.It’llbefine.”
Hersmilewobbled.“Itwillbefine.Iknow.”
Wesdidn’thearawordofthestoryhereadtoLauraforthenextfifteenminutes.Hewasonlyawareofthemethodicalfootstepsmovingthroughthehouse,enteringandexitingrooms.LaurafoundacomfortablespotunderBethany’sarmandstartedtonodoff,anditseemedlikenothingcouldgowrong.Howcouldtherebeanegativeoutcometoanythingwhenhisniecewasmorerelaxedthanhe’deverseenher?Bethanyhadbeentransformingrightinfrontofhiseyes,slowlybutsurely,intosomeonewhocouldlaughwhenpancakebatterploppedonthegroundandwhodidn’tmindloudcartoons.ShewasfuckingextraordinaryandthekindofwomanLauracouldbenefitfromhavinginherlife,beforeandafterhermotherreturned—andhehadfaiththathissistercouldandwouldcomeback.
Therewasnobetterplaceforhisniece,andGodknewtherewasnowhereelsehewantedtobethanrighttherewiththiswomanhe’dlosthisheartto.
Sowhywashispulsetickingfasterandfasterinhisears?
HefoundoutwhenPaulareturnedfromhertouroftheupstairs.Onelookatherpinchedfeaturesandheknew.
“CanIspeakwithyououtside,please?”
Bethanyshottoherfeetsofast,shealmostlostherbalance,butWescaughtherhandintimeandbroughtheraroundthecouchtothefrontdoor.HewasgratefulforthegentlesnorescomingfromLaurabecausehedidn’twanthertohearthebadnewsobviouslyheadedtheirway.Itwasalreadyhittinghimlikeacrowbartothestomach,theblowsendingoutreverberationsofnumbness.Howdidthishappen?
“I’msorrytodothis,”Paulabegan,hesitantly.“Idon’twantyoutothinkthisisapoorreflectionofyourselvesoryourhome,butafterexaminingLaura’senvironment,Ican’trecommendthisasaqualifiedlivingspaceforachildherage.Eithershe’sonlymovedinrecentlyornoaccommodationshavebeenmadetomakethishousekidfriendly.Itlookslikeaninteriordesignshowroom.Really,Ifindthehome…cold.”Atthat,BethanyflinchedandWesclosedhiseyes.“You’llhaveanopportunitytoappealthedecisionandIcouldbesentbackforanothervisit,butfornow…I’mrecommendingthetemporaryguardianshipbeputonhold…”
Wesdidn’theartherestbecausehewastoobusywatchingBethany’sfaceandexperiencingtheslowerosioninsideofhischest.Andhecouldn’thelpbutwanttograbBethanybytheshouldersandshakeher.Don’tfuckingshutdownonmenowwhenIneedyou.Itwastoolate,though.Hecouldseethatmuchclearly.Herbrittlesmileanddistantexpressionhadalreadymovedintoplace,amasktohidehowshereallyfeltaboutthisfailure.
No,notafailure.Asetback.
Wasthereeventheslightestchancehecouldmakeherseeitlikethat?Didheevenhavetheenergywhenhisowndisappointmentwasthickenoughtochokehim?
“Thankyou,”Bethanysaidwoodenly,assheclosedthedoorbehindPaula.Theybothstoodthere,butshewasunabletomakeeventhebaresteyecontactwithWes.
Humiliationravagedherskinlikefireants.
Really,Ifindthehome…cold.
Thesamehadbeensaidaboutherbeforebythemensheputonice,whentheytriedtogettooclose.Allbecauseshe’ddreadedlettingthemin,allthewayin,andhavingthemcometothatconclusionaftermeetingtherealBethany.Thatshewasnothingmorethananattractivepackage.
Thishomewasanextensionofher,wasn’tit?She’dputherheartandsoulintoeverysingletouch,floortoceiling.Andithadbeendeemedcold.
Allshecouldthinktodonowwasminimizethepainofsuchastarkfailure.She’dfooledWesandLauraintobelievingshewasthewarm,settling-downtype.Butthishadtoprovewhatshe’dbeenafraidofallalong.Shewasn’tthetotalpackage.Shewasanemptyboxdressedupingiftwrap.
“Don’tdothis,Bethany.”ShebarelyheardWes’sraspedpleaovertheroaringinherears.“Please.”
“Don’tdowhat?”sheasked,dazedly.
“Firstofall,fuckinglookatme.”OhGod,shewas.Shewaslookingatthismanshelovedandhelookedsodefeated.She’dneverseenhimthatwaybefore,notevenwhenshe’dfiredhim.Thiswasherfault.They’dcobbledtogetherthiswildideathattheycouldbeamakeshiftfamilyandshe’dbeenthewrongfit.Whatgoodwasbeingaperfectionistifshecouldn’tbeperfectwhenitreallycounted?“Look…we’llappealit—”
“No,I…Imean,nothereagain.Obviouslymovingher…a-andyouherewasabadchoice.”Sheflungashakyhandouttoindicatethehouse.“It’snotforkids.Anyonecanseethat.Thiswholethingwascrazy.Itwascrazy.”
“Itwasn’tcrazy.Stopsayingthat.”Hecaughtthebridgeofhisnosebetweentwofingers.“You’renottheonlyonewhogotpunchedintheguthere.Icanbestrongforbothofus,butsometimesIneedhelp.SoIneedyoutokeepittogetherformerightnow.”
“Iamkeepingittogether,”shesaid,makingabreakforthekitchenonwobblylegs.Shejusthadtogetawayfromtheknowledgeinhiseyes.Bethanytookabottleofwateroutofthefridge,uncappedit,andtookahastysip,desperatelytryingtocontrolthechaosofherthoughts.Thecoolwaterslidingdownherthroatdidnothingtohelpthestingofdefeat,though.
“Bethany—”
“It’sfine.WetriedtofoolthemintothinkingIwasamommyorsome…happyhomemaker,butI’mnot.I’mnotwarmandwelcoming.Ineverwillbe.I’mnotevensureIwanttobe.”Herwordstrippedoverthemselves.“Andnowyoujusthavetoadjust.”
“Ihavetoadjust.Justlikethatit’snolongerwe.”
“Yup.”Shescoffed.“Youwouldhavebeenbetteroffwithalmostanyoneelse.”
Hislaughterwaslowandhumorless.“Can’tsayI’msurprised.”
Withforebodingbuzzinginherfingertips,sheslowlysetdownthebottleofwater.“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”
“Itmeansyouwerehuntingforaflawinwhatwe’vegothere.Aflawinyourself.Aflawinus.Sohereyougo,Bethany.Nowyou’vegotyourexcusetocutandrun.”
“Iwasn’tlookingforanexcuse—”
“Bullshit.”Hedroppedafistontothekitchenisland.“You’repushingmeawaytominimizeyourowndamage.AndIcan’ttalkyoubackfromtheedgeeverytime.SometimesI’mstandingonit,too.”
“I’msorry,”shewhispered,stricken.“Ijustthinkourexpectationsforthisrelationshipgottoohigh,toofast,andthisisproof.”OhGod,shehatedherselfforeverywordcomingoutofhermouth,butshecouldonlypush,pushuntilhefinallyleftheralonewhereshecouldbemortifiedatherfailureinpeace.Thatwomansawrightthroughmetothefraudbeneath.“You’llhaveabetterchancewithoutme.”
Wesappearedtobesearchingforpatience,buthevisiblycouldn’tfindany.Herakedahandthroughhishair,openedhismouthtosaysomethingandcloseditagain.Shealmostgotdownonherkneesandapologizedforeverysinglewordshe’djustsaid.Almostbeggedhimtopretendthelastfiveminutesneverhappened.Afterall,theycouldfixthehouseandmakeitwarmerforLaura.SheknewenoughfromreadingoverWes’sshoulderduringthelastweekthatunlessthechildwasindangerinthehome,thestatewouldn’ttakeherawayandtheycouldrepairtheproblem.Appealthedecision.
Butinthatmoment,shegenuinelywonderedifWescoulddobetteralone.Allhereffortstomakethisplacehomeyhadbeentotallylacking—andtherewasnoescapingthatfact.Ithadjustbeenconfirmed.
“We’llbeoutofyourhairassoonaspossible,”Wessaid,turningandleavingthekitchen.
Ahundred-poundweightdroppedinBethany’sstomach.“Wait,”shewheezed,knockingthebottleofwateroffthecounter.Now?Allofthiswashappeningnow?She’dreactedfirstwithoutthinkingthroughtheconsequences.Weswassupposedtostopherfromspinningout,wasn’the?Howhaditgottenthisfar?“No.Youdon’thavetoleave.”
Wesscoopedhissleepingnieceoffthecouch,stoppingjustbeforethehallway.“Yeah,Ithinkwedo.”HelookeddownatLaura.“I’lllethersleepfornow,butwe’llbeoutinthemorning.”ChapterTwenty-Five
BethanycreakeddownthehallwayofProjectDoomsday,draggingherfingertipsalongthewall.She’dtradedplaceswiththehouse.Thismorning,ithadbeenahollowvesselwhileshe’dbeensofullofnewlifeandhope.Nowshewastheemptyoneandthehousewasfulloffurniturewaitingtobearranged.
AfterWeshadclosedhimselfinhisroom,she’dreturnedtothejobsitealone,foroncedevoidofherusualexcitementoverthatfinalstageofbringingaspacetolife.Everythingwaswrappedinplastic,placedintheappropriateroom,butallfourofherlimbsweredeadweights,sohowthoseobjectswouldfindtheirwaytothecorrectcornersandangles,shehadnoidea.
AnexhalestoletheremainingenergyinBethany’sbody,sendingherslidingsidewaysdownthewallofthehallwayandleavingherthereinaheap.
Whatdidyoudo?
She’daskedherselfthesamequestionninetytimessincewalkingonunsteadylegsoutofherhouseanddrivinglikeazombieacrosstown.Theanswerwasstillhoveringsomewhereoutsidethereachofherconsciousness,mostlybecausegraspinganythingbeyondthepainoflosingWeswastoohard.
Afreshwaveofmiseryroseoverherandsheshivered.
OhGod.She’dlostWes.
How,though?
How?
Theirrelationshiphadbeennew,butstrong.Everytimeaworrybubblerosetohersurface,hefoundawaytopopit.Foundawaytomakeherforgetiteverexistedinthefirstplace.Hehelpedherlaughawayherfearsandfocusonthegood.No,he’dmadeherfeelthegood,notjustlookforit.
Weshadfoughtherdragonsvaliantly
Andshe’d…
Keptlettingthemout,expectinghimtocrashbackontothesceneinhissuitofarmoreverytime,swordattheready.Hadshestoppedfightingherownmentalbattlesandleftthechoreuptohimtoooften?
Yes.
Yes,clearlyshehad.Andeverythinghe’dsaidtoherinthekitchentonighthadbeenterriblyaccurate.She’dbeenlookingforweaknessesinthefoundationtheywerebuildingtogether.She’dbeenuptoheroldtricksofsearchingforawayoutsoshewouldn’thavetofaceherimperfections.
God,itwouldhaveslayedherifWeshadshownherkindofreticence.Insteadhe’dbeenthesteadfastone,neverlettingherfeelanythinglessthansecure.Yes,she’dbeenworkingonherself,butnotquicklyenough.Shecouldn’tsustaintheblowofhavingherhomedeemedunsuitableandeverythinghadfallenapartintheblinkofaneye.
Itwasherfault.Entirely.
She’dfoldedlikeacheaplawnchairandhurtthemansheloved.Andtherewasnomistakingthat.He’dallbutbeggedherwithhiseyesnottopushhimaway.Nowshe’dlosttheonlypersonwho’deverlookedoveralistofherdemonsandsignedupanyway.
Bethanypressedbothhandstoherface,lettingsaltytearstrickledownalongherpalmstoherlips,drippingontohershirt.Ohman,she’dfuckedup.ShemighthavemadeherselfmorevulnerabletoWesthansheeverhadwithanotherhumanbeing,butwhenitcamedowntobrasstacks,she’ddemandedalotofWesandgivennotenoughinreturn.Shewasunreliableandwishy-washyandunworthyofsomeonewithaheartthatbig.
Hastily,shewipedhereyesandlookedupanddownthehallway.Itwasthemiddleofthenight,sotherewasnothingbutlingeringdustandafreshlycutlumbersmelltokeephercompany.That’swhatshedeserved—tobealone.
TheBethanyshe’dbeenbeforeWeswouldhavepreferredtobealone.
Didshepreferitnow?
No.God,no.Nothinggotaccomplishedthatway.
Bethanysatupstraighter.
Attheoutsetofthisproject,she’dsetouttoproveshecouldflipahousealoneanddoabetterjobthanherbrother.Abetterjobthananyone.Thatwasn’twhatshe’dlearned,though.She’dlearnedtoaccepthelpandbegratefulforit.She’dlearnedittooklettingdownherguardandadmittingwhenshemadeamistake—likefiringWesororderingthewrongsizetileforthebathroomandamillionotherthingsshe’ddonealongtheway—tobesuccessful.Perfectionwasn’tsuccess.Itwasimpossibleandfranklykindofboring.
Itwastheeffortpaidtotheprojectthatmadeherproud.
Nottheoutcome.
Ifonlyshe’dmadethesameeffortwithWes.
Bethanypushedherselfupoffthefloorandwalkedtothelivingroom,usingherfingernailtoscratchapieceoftapeofftheplasticwrappedaroundthecouch.Wasshegoingtolearnfromherlesson?Orwasshegoingtopretendthelasttwoandahalfweeksneverhappenedandcrawlofftolickherwounds?
Honestly,thelatterheldthemostappeal.Herkneeswererubberandhereyesweregrittyfromcrying.Shewantedacertainsetofstrongarmsaroundherandtheknowledgethatshedidn’tdeservethemwasthemostpainfulofall.
Still,sheslippedherphoneoutofherpocketanddialedhersister,determinednottoslipintothepatternsthathadlandedherinthislonely,coldwastelandwithoutthemanwho’dstoodbyhersidewhenshedidn’tdeserveit.
“What’swrong?”Georgieanswered,soundingalarmed.
“Nothingiswrong,”Bethanysaidquickly.“Sorrytocallyouinthemiddleofthenightlikethis.Ijust…needsomehelp.”Sheswallowed.“Ineedyourhelpstagingthehousefortomorrow.Ican’tdoitalone.”
Alongpause.“Wait.IsthisBethany?MysisterBethany?”
Adullsmiledriftedacrossherlips.“Yes,it’sme.”
“Okay…”Georgiesaidslowly.“I’llleaveTravissleepingandberightover.”
Travispipedupinthebackground.“Likehell.”
“Sheneedshelpstagingthehouse,”cameGeorgie’smuffledvoice.
“Bethanyneedshelp?”
“Yes!”
“Areyousureit’sher?”
Theirvoicesfadedoutforafewmomentsamidthesoundsofcoversrustling,thenGeorgiewasback.“Travisiscomingwithme.Hedoesn’tthinkIcanhandlethemeanstreetsofPortJeffersonalone.”
“Themorethemerrier.Seeyousoon.”
Georgiedidn’tcomealone.SheshowedupwithhalfoftheJustUsLeaguemembers,includingasleepy-eyedRosie,Dominicintowlookingstoicandprotectiveofhiswifeasusual.Bethanyopenedthefrontdoorofthehouse,sotakenabackbytheseaofsmilingfacesstaringather,shestumbledsideways.Theydidn’twaitforhertogreetthemandtheydidn’taskforanexplanation;theysimplyfiledpastheronebyone,acoupleoftheolderladiespattingherontheshoulderastheypassed.Thehousewentfromeerilysilenttoextremelynoisy,asplasticwasrippedwithStanleyknives,boxeswerebrokendown,andfurniturewasdraggedacrossfloors.BethanystaredatthechaoswithgratefultearsinhereyesuntilhertypeAgenescouldn’ttakeitanymoreandshejoinedtheeffort.
Ittookuntildawnandalotofhoarseinstructionsbeforethehousewasarrangedasshe’denvisioned.Shedidn’texperienceherusualdoseofsatisfaction,though,becausethepersonshewantedtosharethejoywiththemostwasn’tthere.Hewasgettingreadytoleaveher—andrightlyso.
Withyawnsaplenty,herimpromptudecoratingcommitteestartedtoleaveandshestoodatthedoor,thankingeachandeveryoneofthemuntilthey’dalldrivenofftostarttheirdays,undoubtedlyexhausted.Travis,Georgie,Rosie,andDominicalllingeredbehind,cleaningupthelastoftheunpackingmess.
GeorgiecameupbesideBethany,layingherheadonhershoulder.“Itlooksamazing.Youshouldbereallyproud.”
“Ibarelyrecognizeit,”Travisadded,turninginacircletotakeinwhatwasoncehischildhoodhome.“Andthat’sadamngoodthing.Nicegoing,Bethany.”
“Thanks.”Herheartbeatheavilyinherchest.“Ididn’tdoitalone.”
RosiehandedheroneofthecoffeesDominichadgoneouttopickupatthegasstation,andaskedgently,“WesishomewithLaura,I’massuming?”
Bethanydidn’tmissthecuriosityinherfriend’stone.She’dobviouslynoticedthatsomethingwaswrong.“They’reatmyhouse.Theymovedintomyhouse.”
Foursetsofeyebrowsshotup.
“Idon’tknowhowlongthey’llbethere,”Bethanycontinuedstiltedly.“I’veruinedeverything.”
“Whatis…everything?Ifyoudon’tmindmeasking.”Travisshothiswifealook.“You’resupposedtokeepmeabreastofthegossip.”
“Iwasn’tabreastofitmyself,”Georgiemurmured,studyingBethany’sface.“Whateveritisyouthinkyouruined,it’sfixable.We’llhelp.”
“Iappreciatetheoffer.”ShethoughtofWesthelasttimeshesawhimandshookherhead.He’dbeendevastatedoverPaula’sdecisionandshe’dlefthimtoflounder.She’dcutandrunemotionally,justlikehesaid.Abandonedhimwithcoldwordswhenheneededherthemost.Howcouldhetrusthereveragain?
Hewouldn’t.
ButherjourneytocommongroundwithWeshadtaughthersomuch,andshewouldn’tabandonwhatshe’dlearnedlikeshe’dabandonedhiminhismomentofneed.
“Ihavetotellyouguyssomething.”Shepacedawayfromthegrouptolookoutthewindow.“Isecond-guessmyselfconstantly.IoverthinkeverywordandeverydecisionandIpushpeopleawaysotheywon’tfindoutI’mactuallyamess.Idon’thaveitalltogether.I’mjustpretendingtobethe…beautiful,dynamiccreatureyouallseebeforeyou.Allthetime.”
Everyonewassilentforafewbeats.
“ThankGod,”Georgiebreathed,bringingBethanyaround.“Bethany,congratulations,you’rehuman.Nobodyinthisroomisperfect.”
“Notevenme,”Travissaid,winking.
Georgiehip-checkedhim.
“Ifwemadeyoufeellikeyouneededtobefaultless,we’resorry,”Rosiesaid,comingforward.“Youjustmakeeverythinglooksoeasy,it’shardtoimagineyoustrugglingliketherestofus.”
“Youaskedforhelptonight,though.”Dominiccoughed,visiblyuneasybeingthecenterofattentionforevenasecond.“Thatprobablywasn’teasy.Wouldn’thavebeeneasyforme,either.”Helookedathiswife.“Before.”
“Andyou’retalkingtousnow,”Georgieadded.“Sayingtheproblemoutloudishalfthebattle.LikewhenItoldyouIwasinlovewithTravisatZumbaclass.”
“Let’snotrefertothatasaproblem,”Travisgrowled.
“Itwasatthetime,”Georgiequalified,reachingouttotakeholdofherhusband’shand.“Butitgrewintosomethingbeautiful.Problemsdon’thavetogoaway—theycanchangeshapeoryoucanmakethemworkforyou.”
“She’sright,”Rosiesaidwithasoftsmile.“Youdon’thavetochangeeverythingaboutyourself.Sometimesyoujusthavetoaddalittlehonestyanditmakesallthedifference.”
WasRosieright?Itseemedlikeshemightbe.Bethanystoodinfrontofherclosestfriendsandfamilyfeelingexposed,yes,butalsolighter.Moreherselfthanever.Whydidthislessonhavetocomeadaylate?Lastnightcouldhaveplayedoutsodifferently.InsteadoftryingtopushWesaway,shecouldhavetoldhimthetruth.Thatshewasembarrassedoverthefailureandhorrifiedthatshe’ddisappointedhim.Theycouldhavetalkedaboutitandmovedforwardtogether.Morethanthat,shecouldhavefoundouthowhefeltabouthavingtheirhousedeemedunpreparedforguardianshipofLaura.
She’dlostthatprivilegenow,hadn’tshe?
He’dnevertakeanotherriskonsuchaself-centeredheadcase.
“Thanks,guys,”Bethanysaid,clearingtherustfromherthroat.“Andthanksforcomingoutinthemiddleofthenighttohelpme.Inevercouldhavedonethisalone.”SheturnedinacircletoobservetheCapeCod–styledwellinginallitsspit-shinedglory.“NowwillitbeenoughtobeatStephen?”
ThepitinBethany’sstomachyawnedwiderwhensherealizedwinningFlipOffwasnolongerimportant.Notwhenshe’dalreadylostwhatmatteredmost.
Thenextmorning,Wesdiscoveredthetruemeaningofbeingaparent.Yeah,therewasdressshoppingandwakingupatfiveA.M.Butmostlyitwassmilingandbeingengagedthroughtheterriblemoments.WhenhegotoutofbedSaturdaymorning,aftersleepingapproximatelytwentyminutesthewholenight,thehousewasempty.Bethanyhadtobeoffstagingthehouse,andnotbeingtherewithherdidn’tsitright.Notatall.They’dstartedtheprojecttogetherandtheyshouldbefinishingittogether.
AsheleanedagainstthedoorjambwatchingLaurabrushherteeth,hewishedhecouldgobackandhandlehisargumentwithBethanydifferently.Lord,didhewish.
Whatgoodhaditbeenforhimtobethestabilizingpresenceforstupidlittlethingslikethemarkonherneck?Orreassuringherthathedidn’tcareaboutmorningbreath?Ifhecouldn’tbestrongwhenshehadamajorspiral,noneofthatothershitmeantathing.
Hecouldhavewrappedhisarmsaroundherlastnight,kissedher,andsaid,“Wegotsomebadnews,baby.Let’ssleeponittonightandattackitfreshinthemorning.”Whatifthat’sallitwouldhavetakentotalkherbackdown?
Insteadhe’dblownoutofthere,pissedandhurt.
Hell,hestillhurt.She’dthrownsaltintohiswoundandhe’dbeentoodowntodealwithit.Butrightnow,hecouldonlythinkofBethany.Wasshefeelingthisgod-awful,too?
Hemightneverknow.She’dlikelyneverwantanythingtodowithhimagain.Amanwhocouldn’tbesolidduringherhardestmomentsdidn’tdeserveheratall.
EventuallyhewouldhavetofigureoutaplanforhimandLaura.IfBethanydidn’twantthemlivingthere,he’drespectthat,evenifhewasn’tconvincedthatwasthecase.BethanylovedLaura.Therewasnomistakingthewayshelookedathisniece.ThewayshesoftenedeverytimeLaurasaidhernameorsatonherlap.Still,hecouldn’twaitforBethanytocomedownfromtheledgetofiletheappealforguardianship.Ithadtobesoonerratherthanlaterandhecouldn’timagineputtingthatpressureonBethanyagainrightaway.
“We’redoingshow-and-tellatschoolonMonday,”Laurasaid,aroundhertoothbrush.
“Ohyeah?”Westriedtoburytheheelofhishandinhiseyesocket.“Whatareyougoingtobring?”
“Bethany’smagnoliacandle.Ialreadyputitinmybackpack.”
“Whythecandle?”
Shespatintothesink.“Itsmellslikeher.”
Hisheartlurched.“Yeah.Itdoes.”
“Ilikethewayshesmells.Ilikeeverythingabouther.”
“Ilikeeverythingabouther,too.”Eventhecrazyparts.Lastnightinthekitchen,he’dlovedherthroughthatentireargument,hadn’the?Helovedhersomuchnow,hishandsachedwiththeneedtotouchherface,strokeherhair.Shemustbeworkingsohardstagingthehouseandhewasn’ttheretotellhershewasextraordinary.Thatshecoulddoanything.
“UncleWes?”
“Yeah?”
Shearchedaneyebrowathim.“Youhaven’treallybeensleepingverymuchinthebedroomacrossthehallfromme,haveyou?”
Ithurttosmile,buthecouldn’thelpit.“No,kid.Notreally.”
“DanielletoldmewhatyouandBethanydoatsleepovers.”
Hefroze.“Ohyeah?What’dDaniellesay?”
LaurahoppeddownoffthestoolBethanyhadputinfrontofthesink,soshecouldreachthemirror.Hadthehomevisitorevenconsideredthat?AllthelittletouchesBethanyhadadded,likeacanisterofCheeriosinthekitchenandtheDisneyprincessshampoointheshower?Hehadn’tevenaskedhertodothosethings.“Shesaidwhenhermomanddadhavesleepovers,”Lauracontinued,poppinghisthoughtbubble,“theynewtheirmarriagevows.”
Christ.Hewasnotmentallypreparedforthisconversationwhenhisheadfeltlikeitwasburiedincement.“New?Doyoumean…renew?”
“Yeah.”Shesmiledbrightly.“Theynewthem.”
Wesstayedreallystill,hopinghislackofmovementmightworkthesamewayasavoidingabearattack.“Okay.That’snice,Iguess.”
“Yeah,butyouandBethanyaren’tmarried.”
Thiswasit.Hewasgoingtobemauledbyabear.He’dneverwishedharderforBethanytobestandingnexttohim.Shewouldn’tknowwhatthehelltosay,either,butthatwasthebeautyoftherelationship.Whetheritwasanimpromptuteapartyorableedingfinger,theymuddledthroughittogether.Fuck,he’dblownitwithher.Hisfirstandonlytimeinloveandhe’dbarelymadeitoutofthestartinggatebeforelettingBethanydown.
He’dletLauradown,too.
Lookhowhappysheis.Howisshegoingtoreacttomovingagain?
“No,”herasped,finally.“BethanyandIaren’tmarried.”
“Thenwhatvowsareyounewinginthere?Canpeoplemakevowseveniftheyaren’tmarried?”
Shenudgedhimoutofthewayandhefollowedherintothehallway,towardherroom.Anditwasagoodthingherbackwasturned,becausehewasprobablywhiteasasheet.“Yeah,sure…”hestarted,andthoughtofwordshe’dspokentoBethanyinthedark.
I’mrocksolid,Bethany.Okay?Putyourfaithinme.I’mherewithyoubecauseyou’vebeenmywomansincethebeginning,evenbeforeyourealizedoracceptedit.I’mstandingrighthereandI’mstayingrighthere.ThereisnothingyouoranyonecoulddotomakemewanttobesomewhereIcouldn’tholdyou.
Somethingjaggedlancedhisthroat.He’dsaidthattoBethany.
He’dmeantit,too.Whatthehellhadhebeenthinking,tellinghertheyweregoingtoleave?Wouldsheeverbelieveanotherwordoutofhismouth?
“Yeah,peoplewhoaren’tmarriedcanmakevows,”hefinished,droppingontotheedgeofLaura’sbedandburyinghispoundingheadinhishands.
“Oh.”Laurasoundeddisappointed.“Butyoucanstillalsomakethemarriedkind,right?”
“Why?”
HeliftedhisheadtofindLaurasprawledoutonthebedbesidehim.ItstruckWeshowcomfortableshewasinthisroom,nomatterwhatthehellitlookedlike.Itwasn’taboutthedécor…itwasthefeelingshegotbeinginsidetheroom.Insidethishouse.
WherethehelldidanyonegetoffsayingBethany’shomewasn’tsuitable?
Lauraspokeagain,divertinghisanger.“Idon’tknow.Ihaveamomalready.ButIcouldhavetwo.Couldn’tI?”
Arakeclawedathisinsides.“YouwantBethanytobeyourmom?”
Hesworetherewerestarsinhereyeswhenshesighed.“Yeah.Doyou?”
“No,Idon’twanthertobemymom.”
Lauragiggledandhislipscurvedintoasmile,despitethedesolationmakinghischestburn.Thiswholesituationsuddenlystruckhimasunfair.Sure,heknewthecourthadaresponsibilitytomakesurekidswenttoasafehome,butLord,whathewouldhavegivenbackinthedayforsomeonewhocaredabouthimthewayBethanycaredaboutLaura.She’dsetasideherinsecuritiesandbecomeafixtureinhisniece’slife,pickingherupfromschool,protectingherfrompotentialpainwhenBeckyshowedup,givenherahome.Awarmone,tohellwithwhatthatwomansaidaboutit.Theywerejustnewatthis.
Buthedidn’twanttobenewatanythingwithoutBethany.
Heneededher.
Lauraneededher,too.Andhe’dcompletelyfailedtoletherknowthatwhensheneededtobereassuredmost.She’dgivenhimanout,becauseshe’dbeenscared,andhewantedtopunchhimselfinthefacefortakingit.
Sheneededtoknowhewouldnever,evertakeanout.
Thathewouldnevereventhinkaboutit.
“YoumindspendingafewhourswithLet’sColor,kid?I’vegotsomeworktodo.”ChapterTwenty-Six
Inanefforttojuiceeveryounceofdramafromthecompetition,theproducersentBethanyacrosstownwiththecameracrew—andSlade—tohavehertourStephen’sflippriortothewinnerbeingannounced.Whentheyparkedatthecurb,Wes’struckwasnolongerinherdrivewayacrossthestreet.HadhimandLauraleftforgood?
Herstomachtookadiveatthethought.
Justgetthroughthismorning.
Easiersaidthandone.HerkneesalmostbuckleduponsteppingoverthethresholdofStephen’sflip.Thefirst-glanceeffectwasspectacular.He’dopeneduptheentrywayandcarvedalittlemudroomintotheeastwall.Apendantlightcaughtthesunshineandprojectedfragmentsofrainbowsonthelemonsorbet–coloredwalls.Oakfloorsbeckonedherdeeperintotheopenfloorplanandshecouldonlygapeatthechanges.Bethanywaswellawarethatthecamerasweredocumentinghereveryreaction,butshedidn’thaveroomtocare.
Rightinthisspot,justunderthreeweeksago,WeshadZellweger’dforher.
“Ifwecangetthroughameetingwithoutbitingeachother’sheadsoff,thenwe’llconsiderworkingtogether.”
“We’rejustgoingtopretendyouhaveotheroptions,huh?”
“Arewehavingameetingornot?”
“Yeah.”
Eventhen,he’dbeenwindingthroughherinsecuritieslikeamaze.HowcouldithavetakenhersolongtorealizeWeswasaheroindisguise?
“Howareyoufeelingaboutyourchances?”Sladeasked,comingupbesideherinaclassicconstruction-manpose,armscrossed,legsbraced.“Areyousurprisedbywhatyourbrothermanagedtopulloffwithoutyou?”
“Yes,actually.Iam.”Sheletoutalongexhaleandadvancedintothelivingarea,shockedonceagainbythetastefulelegance.“LookslikeI’mnottheonlydecoratorinthefamily.Icouldn’thavedoneitbettermyself.”
Sladedisplayedahalfgrin.“Yousoundworried.”
Hiscajolingtone,alongwiththebrightcameralights,amplifiedherheadache.“Wecoulddefinitelylose.Butlosingwon’tmakemeanylessproudofourhouse.”
“Speakingofwe,whereisyourforeman?”
Apangcaughtherinthesternum.“Idon’tknow.”
Aroundher,thecameraoperatorsshifted,asiftheywereexcitedbythesubjectofWesandwantedtogetabetterangle.“Doyouhaveanyregretsabouttrustinghimwithsomuchresponsibility?”
“No.No,Ihavealotofregrets,buttrustingWeswillneverbeoneofthem.I’mnotsureifhecouldsaythesameaboutme.”Burningpressuregreetedthebacksofhereyes,andshecutthroughSladeandthedirector,headingforthedoor.Shepiledintothemiddleseatofthenetworkvanandtookdeepbreathstosteadyherself.Andthenthevanwasmoving,Sladeandthedirectorchattingloudlyinthefrontseataboutpotentiallychanginghiswardrobeforthebigannouncement.ItmadeherwishforWessobadly.Madeherwishforoneofhiseyerollsordrawledcommentsinherear.
ChaosreignedbackatProjectDoomsday,internsrunningbetweentrailersandthehouse,landscapershelpingtosetupshotsoftheexterior—OllieandCarlbeinginterviewedoutfrontintuxedos,whichwouldhavemadeherlaughoutloudifherheartwasn’tdraggingbehindherliketincans.
ThevandoorslidopentoBethany’sright,drawingherattention.“Bothhouseshavebeentouredbythreeimpartialrealestateagentsandgivenanunofficialappraisal.YourbrotherisinsidetouringProjectDoomsdaysowecanbankhisreactionshots.Whenthat’sover,we’regoingtobringyoubothoutonthelawnandannouncethewinner.Yourfriendsandfamilyarealreadybeingarrangedintheshot.”
“Oh.”Sureenough,inthedistanceshecouldseeeveryoneonherfavoriteslist,includingherparents.Hermotherwaswearingthesamedressshe’dworntoGeorgie’sweddingandapplyinglipstickinanendlesscoraloval.“Great.”
AsBethanywasescortedfromthevantothestagedfilmingarea,butterfliessweptthroughherstomach,surprisingher.Allmorning,she’dbeenhollowandcalm—heartbroken,togettechnical—butnow…shewantedtowin.Sheneededthewin.Notforherself,butforherandWes.Shedesperatelyneededsomethingpositivetocomefromtheirrelationship.Sureithadbeenpainfullyshort,butithadimpactedherlikenothingelse.Theirtimetogethermightaswellhavelastedadecadeandsheneededsomethingtoshowforit.Forthechangeshe’dinspiredinher,fortheunconditionalsupporthe’dgiven.
Bethanyreachedthecrowdoffamilyandfriends,everyonespeakingtoheratonceandnoneofthewordspenetrating.Stephenexitedthehouse,capturingherattention.HewaswearingashirtthatreadONEHUNDREDPERCENTTHATFATHERwithoutaniotaofshameandBethanycouldonlyshakeherhead.
“You’rereallygoingtowearthatontelevision.”
“Kristingotoneforyou,too.”
“Doeitherofyouneedabottleofwater?”aharriedinternasked.
“We’refine,”Stephenansweredforthem,sendingtheyoungmanscurryingoffintotheswellingcrowdofcrewmembers.“It’sokay,Bethany,youdon’thavetocongratulatemeonthepregnancy.Sayingcongratulationstwiceinonedaywouldbetoomuch.”
“Oooh,youshouldhavesavedthatzingeruntilthecameraswererolling.”
Herbrothershrugged.“I’vegotplentyofthem.”
“Allright,everyone,”shoutedthedirector,holdingupahand.“Iliketheenergyhere.Let’skeepitgoing,soIcangetapanningshotoftheaudience.Onmysignal,everyonecheerlikeyourlivesdependonit.Likeyou’reoutsideofaBestBuyonBlackFriday,orwhateverexcitessuburbanites.”
“Whatatool,”Bethanymuttered.
“Wecanagreeonthat,”Stephensaidoutofthecornerofhismouth.“Sowhoisgoingtocrackfirstandaskforanopinionontheirflip?”
“Notit.”
Stephencursed.
“Allright!Herewego!BlackFridayenergy!”Thedirectorsettledhishandsonhisknees.“Action.”
BehindStephenandBethany,whistlesandwoosfilledthemid-morningatmosphere,callingmoreattentiontoherloneliness.Thiswasn’tright.Shewasn’tsupposedtobestandingtherebyherself.
SladedisruptedherthoughtsbysteppingbetweenherandStephen,rubbinghishandstogether.“Twosmall-townflips,condensedintoanincrediblyshorttimeframe.Brotherversussister.Ultimatebraggingrightsontheline.”Dramaticpause.“Ihavetosay,bothofyoudeliveredbeyondourexpectations.Butwhowillcomeawayvictorious?”Hefiredafingergunatthecamera.“Staywithus.We’llbeannouncingthewinnerafterthebreak.”
“Cut!Perfect,Slade,”calledthedirector.“Let’sgorightintotheannouncementnext.Buildthedrama.Stretchitout.Folks,onmysignal,cheeryourfacesoff.Camerasready?”Hewaitedforanodfromthecameraman.“And…we’rerolling.”
Onceagain,thesoundsofclappingandcheeringfilledBethany’sears,thebrightlightsblindingheruntilallshecouldseewerevagueoutlinesofhumanbeingsandblursofcolor.
Slade’svoicecutthroughthenoiselikeabuzzsaw.“FlipOffisback,comingtoyoufromPortJefferson,LongIsland!Ifyou’rejustjoiningus,we’reprimedtoannouncethewinnerofabrother-sistershowdownofepicproportions.Howareyoufeeling,Stephen?Confident?”
Bethany’sbrotherpuffeduphischest.“Always.”
“Bethany?Whataboutyou?”
“Nervous,”shebreathed,thehonestybeginningtocomeeasier.
SheonlycaughtahintofStephen’sfrownbeforeSladeblockedherview.“Ourjudgeshavedoneathoroughinspectionofbothhouses,andwhilebothofyoudidanoutstandingjob,therecanonlybeonewinner.Withoutfurtherado…we’regoingtoannouncewhoimpressedthemthemost.ThewinnerofFlipOffis…”Hestoppedtalkingforsolong,Bethanyalmostpinchedthehosttoseeifhewasalive.“Stephen!Congratulations,buddy.”
Bethanyfelteverycameratrainonherfaceandknewsheshouldgrinandbearthenews,butshecouldn’tseemtomakeithappen.Itwasinsulttoinjury.She’dlostWes,andnowthishomethey’dworkedontirelesslyforweekshadbeendeclaredaloser,justliketheirrelationship.Ithurt,likeanailinthecoffin.
Still,shesteppedaroundSlade,preparedtoshakeStephen’shand.“Hey,congratulations.It’sawell-deservedvict—”
“Now,holdononesecond,”Stephenblustered,avoidingherhand.“Whatexactlywerethejudges’criteria?BecausemysisterstartedwitharamshacklenightmareandIstartedwithaslightlyoutdatedhouse.Andshehadlittletonoexperience,ontopofeverything.”Hisfacewasstartingtoturnred.“Ijustwentinthereand…Bethany,youkilledit.Allthoselittledetailsaregoingtoselltheplace.Thebroken-upbacksplashinthekitchen,thosebuilt-inbookshelves,andtheornamentaltrimyouranalongthemiddleofthebedroomwalls.Imean,whatthehellwerethejudgesevenlookingat?”HejabbedafingeratSlade.“Mysisterwon.Announceitagain.”
Somewhereinthedistance,Bethanyheardhermotherburstintotears.“Mychildrenloveeachother.”
“Stephen,”Bethanysaidthickly.“Youdon’thavetodothat.”
“I’mnotblowingsmoke,Bethany.Youwon.”
“Yourhousewasbeautiful,though.Yourstagingwasspot-on.”
“Youknowwhy?Ipulleduponeofyourpastfurnitureordersandputeverythingexactlywhereyoudid.”Hethrewuphishands.“Ijustcopiedoneofyouroldstages.”
Agaspwentupfromthecrowd.
“Oh.Cometothinkofit,thearrangementdidlookprettyfamiliar,”shemurmuredtoherself.
“ThetwistsandturnskeepcomingonFlipOff,”crowedSlade.
Bethanyswipedatthegatheringmoistureinhereyes.“Youknowwhat?Iwantedtowin.IwantedtohavesomethingpositivetoholdontointhemiddleofthemessImade,but…”
“Butwhat?”promptedthehost.
Shestaredintotheabyssofpeoplebehindthecameras.“Itdoesn’tfeelrightacceptingthewinwithoutWeshere.Myforeman.My…ex-boyfriend,Iguess?”
Hermotherwasinfullvaporsnow.“Shealreadybrokeupwithhim?Ididn’tevengetaSundaydinneroutofit.”
“Wessaweverysideofmewhileflippingthishouse.StubbornBethany.Scared,stressed,andsillyBethany.Andhestuckitout.Hewaspatient.MorepatientthanIdeserved.Iwouldhavespunoutsomanytimesifhewasn’tstandingbesideme,makingmefallinlovewithhim.”Shecouldpracticallyfeelthecameraszoominginonherface,butshe’dstoppedhearinganythingbuttherapidpoundofherheart.“So,maybe…hopefullysixtoeightmonthsfromnowhe’llwatchthisshowonhiscouchandhe’llhearhemadeadifference.Wes,youwerealwaysmorethanapitstopforme.Youwerethedestination.Ijustgotlostonmywaythereonetoomanytimes—”
Wessteppedoutoftheblurofbodiesandslowlyremovedhiscowboyhat.
Theystaredateachother,fivefeetapart,thecacophonyofnoisefallingintoahusharoundthem.
“You’rehere,”shewhispered,rootedtothespot.HeldtherebythesheeroverwhelmingpleasureofbeingnearWes,seeinghim,absorbinghispresence.Howdidsheevergoadaywithouthim?Howwouldsheeverdoitinthefuture?
“I’mhere,”heechoed,takingastepcloser.“RightwhereI’mgoingtostay.Whataboutrocksoliddidn’tyouunderstand?”
Bethanystartedtotremble.Washeforgivingher?Wasshedreaming?
“I’mlatebecauseIwasfilingtheappeal.NexttimeIsawyou,Iwantedtohaveanexttimeonthehorizon.Wedon’tquit,Bethany.Wemuddlethroughittogether.We’reineverythingtogether.”
Herlungsreleasedtheircontentsinarush.“Iloveyousomuch.”
Hiseyesbecamesuspiciouslydamp.“Iheard.”
Neitherofthemmovedtoclosethegapbetweenthem.
“Ipromisetoberocksolidforyou,too.”Asoundwelledupinherchestandburstfree.“I’msosorry—”
Wessurgedforward,droppinghishatatherfeetinfavorofcradlingherfaceinbothhands.Hetookamomenttosearchhergazebeforehismouthlandedonherswitheagerprecision.Determinedfingerstangledinherhair,histonguestrokinghersinawaythatwasatoncetenderandhungry.“You’remyfirsthome,Bethany,andmylast,”heraspedagainstherlips.“I’myours,too.Andsometimesafloorboardisgoingtogetcreakyoraporchlightwillneedfixing.We’llrepairitandbegoodasnew.That’slove.Iwouldn’thaveknownwhatlovefeltlikewithoutteaparties.Orabeautifulwomanshowingupatmywindowatmidnight.Orthatsamewomanopeningupherhomeeventhoughitscaredher.”Hekissedthetearsoffhercheeks.“Iamyourdestination.Andyoudidn’tgetlostonthewaytome,youjustcircledtheblockoneextratime.Nowparkthegoddamncar,darlin’,comeinsideandtellmeyoulovemeagain.”
Herlaughwasjoyfulandwatery.Thismanwasamarvel.Hermarvel.Nottomentionherfuture.“Iloveyou.”
Wespulledherintoatightembraceandkissedherforehead.“Iloveyou,too,Bethany.”
“Hatetointerrupt,”Sladebrokein,makingWesgrowl,“butIdon’tthinkyou’llmindwhatIhavetotellyou.Thereisanactualprizeforthiscompetition.Somethingslightlymoresubstantialthanbraggingrights.”
“Makeitgood,Slade,”Wessaid,nevertakinghiseyesoffBethany.“Ineedtokissthiswomanuntilshecan’ttastetheword‘ex-boyfriend’anymore.”
Sladelaughed.“Stephenhasofficiallyconcededvictory,makingBethanyandWesthewinnersofFlipOff.”Hedangledasetofkeysinfrontoftheirfaces.“You’veraisedthehousevalueandyou’llbereceivingacheckforthedifference,plusayearinpaidpropertytaxes.Howdoesthatsound?”
BethanyandWesturnedtoeachotherwithidenticalexpressionsofshock.Wesrecoveredfirst,scoopingBethanyupintohisarms,partingtheseaofcrewmembersashecarriedhertowardthehouse—andoverthethreshold.
“Whatdoyouthink?”BethanysmiledintoWes’sneck.“Shouldwekeepflippinghouses?Wemakeaprettygoodteam.”
“Wemakethebestteam.”HesetBethanydownandpressedhertotheclosestwall,lettinghismouthtraveloverhersslowly,adoringly.“Juststayoffrooftopsduringstorms.”
“It’sadeal.”
Theirsharedlaughterliftedandfaded.“There’sonemorereasonIwaslatethismorning,Bethany.”Hereachedintohispocketandtookoutaringbox,liftingitbetweenthemtothesoundtrackofBethany’sgasp.“Wecanwaitaweekortenyears,butIwantyoutoknowIplanonlovingyoustraightthrougheternity.“
Howmuchhappinesscouldoneheartwithstand?“I’llloveyou,too,Wes.Fiercely.Evenwhenwefight.Especiallywhenwefight,”shevowed,hervoiceshaking.“AndIwouldbehonoredtobeyourwife.”
Hislipsjumpedatonecorner.“Don’tyouwanttoseethering?”
“No.AllIneedtoseeisyou.”Epilogue
EightMonthsLater
Theywerethescourgeofthekindergartengraduationceremony.
TheCastle-DanielscontingentrequiredanentirerowtocheeronLauraassheacceptedherdiploma.Bethanywincedoverthedirtylookstheywerereceivingfromtheotherparents,butwhatcouldshesay?She’dgottenthereanhourearlytosecureseating.Whenyousnooze,youlose.
Crammedintothefrontrowoftheelementaryschoolauditoriumwereherparents,Georgie,Travis,Dominic,andRosie.KristinandStephenwerethere,too,behavingasifKristinhadthefuturekingofEnglandstrappedtoherchest,glaringatanyonewhosneezedorspoketooloudlyinhisvicinity.
Bethanyhadtoagreeaboutonething.Hernewnephewwasprettygreat.Bethany,Laura,andWeshadasecretpacttoexposethekidtoasmuchnormalcyaspossible,inthehopesheturnedoutslightlylessbananasthanhisparents.Although,tobefair,BethanyandStephenhadgrownalotcloserpost-flip.She’devenlethimsitinonaJustUsLeaguemeetingaroundKristin’sduedate,becausehe’dbeentooparanoidleavinghertherealone.
He’dendedupbuzzedontequilaandengagedinagrouphug,cryingandpromisingtobeabetterfriendtowomen.Bethanywasstilltraumatized.
Butshelovedherbigbrother.Orwhatever.
Thedayhe’dconcededFlipOfftoher,sheknewhe’dmeantit.Andalongwithherowngrowthduringthosewildthreeweeks,she’dtrulystartedtrustingherself.Believinginherself.Andnowsheneverquestionedherabilitytoloveorbeloved.
Lovewasn’tperfect.
Well,somedaysitwas.Othertimes,itwasjustmuddlingthroughandrippingoffyourT-shirttomakeabandage.Orher,Wes,andLauraallgettingacoldatthesametimeandpilinglikezombiesinheronce-pristinebedfordaysonend.
Theydidwhatworked—andtheresultwaswild,chaotic,beautifulhappiness
BethanycranedhernecktoseeifWeshadarrivedyet.Shewassavingtheseatsnexttoher,rightontheaisle,soLaurawouldbeabletoseehim.Andtheirspecialguest,ifshewasabletomakeit.
Theschoolprincipaltappedonthemicrophone,unleashingapealoffeedback.Hewelcomedeveryonetothegraduationceremony,butBethanywasonlyhalflistening.Forone,shewasworriedWeswouldn’tmakeitontime.Butmainly,shecouldn’thelpbutreflectonhowmuchthingshadchangedoverthelasteightmonths.
Forone,she’dmarriedWes.
Hadsheplannedabig,perfectwedding?
No,they’dinvitedeveryonetotheirnewhouse,formerlyknownasProjectDoomsday,andambushedthemwithasurprisewedding,rightthereinthelivingroom.Alivingroomfulloffingerpaintingsandframedpicturesanddustonthemantel.That’sright,BethanyCastlehadgottenmarriedbarefootinamessyhousewithoutasinglestrokeofprofessionalmakeup.Therewasnoplaceshe’dratherbe.
Theydidn’tleaveherhomebehindduetoalackofwarmthorhominess.They’dsimplywantedtocreatetheirownspacetoptobottom,asafamily.She’dstoodinthathaphazardlivingroomwithasmileonherfaceamilewide.Whywouldn’tshebesmilingwhenshewasmarryingthemostincredible,loyal,steadfastmanonallofplanetearthandgainingaquasi-daughterintheprocess?
Now,monthslater,everysinglepersoninthefrontrowhadfalleninlovewithLaura.Shedidn’thavemerelyonehome,shehadseveral—andinaboutadecade,shewasgoingtobethebusiestbabysitterintown,becauseRosieandDominicwereexpectingtwins,TravisandGeorgiehadalittlegirlontheway,and,nottobeoutdone,StephenandKristinwerealreadytryingforanother.
AsforBethanyandWes?
Theyhadtheirgirlandshewasmorethantheycouldeverwant.
Speakingofwhom,withthelastnameDaniels,shewasgoingtobeoneofthefirsthandfulofkidstocrossthestage.WherewasWes?
Herthoughtbarelyhadtimetofinishbeforeherhusbandappearedintheentranceoftheauditorium,dressedinhissignaturecowboyhatandtoo-tightjeans.Alookofreliefcrossedhisfacewhenhesawtheceremonyhadn’tstartedyetandBethanywavedhimdowntothefrontrow.Hislipscurvedatherandheshookhisheadalittle,asiftosay,Ofcourseyousnaggedthefrontrow.Also,Iloveyou
Hisexpressionsaidthataswell.Italwaysdid.
ShewasconfusedwhenWessteppedbackoutoftheauditoriummomentarily.Untilhewalkedbackinwithhishalfsisterathisside.
Bethanybreathedasighofrelief.She’dmadeit.
AftertheappealwasfiledwiththecourttograntWestemporaryguardianshipofLaura,theydidn’thearfromBeckyforseveralmonths.They’dbeensobusymovingintotheirnewhouse,thosemonthshadflownbysofastthatBethanyhadbeenstunnedtoopenherfrontdooroneeveningandfindBeckystandingthere.
Asluckwouldhaveit,there’dbeenaJustUsLeaguemeetingonthatnight.Beckystayedforit.Andthensheshowedupforthenextone,andtheoneafterthat.Shestillhadn’topenedupabouteverythinginherpast,butitwasimpossiblenottoseethepositivityoftheclubtakeeffect,littlebylittle.WithBethanyandWes’shelp,Beckyhadcompletedrehabilitationandwasnowsober,livinginFreeport.
WithBrick&Mortyexpandingtotakeontwoflipteamsinsteadofone—BethanyandWesmakinguptheadditionalcrew—Bethanyhadbeeninneedofanewstager.ShewastrainingBeckyfortheposition.
Herhusbandandhissisterslidintotheirseats,justintimefortheprincipaltostartcallingthenamesofthekindergartners.
“Hey!”Bethanywhispered,reachingouttosqueezeBecky’shandandacceptingakissontheforeheadfromWes.“I’mgladyoumadeit.”
Metoo,mouthedBecky,seemingalittleuncomfortableinhersurroundings.Comparedtohowshe’dbeenatLaura’sChristmasshow,however,shewasdefinitelygrowingmorerelaxedinfamilysituations.ForLaura’ssake,Bethanycouldn’tbemorepleasedaboutthat.Laurahadbeenstandoffishwithhermotherduringtheirfirstfewvisits,butthemorecommitmentBeckyshowed,themoreLaurawarmed—andBethanyhadfaithitwouldonlygetbetterfromthereonout.
Laura’snamewascalledandthefrontrowbrokeoutthenoisemakers,causingLaura’sclear,happygiggletoringoutonstage.ShewavedatthefrontrowandheldupherdiplomalikeThor’shammer.Ohyeah,shewasdonewithprincesses.
Itwasallaboutsuperheroesnow.
Wes’sfingersthreadedthroughBethany’s,squeezinganddrawingherattention.Shewassurprisedtofindemotionshininginherhusband’seyes.
Helookeddowntherowoffriendsandfamily,thenbackather.
“Lookatwhatwe’vegot,baby,”hesaidquietly,brushingakissacrossherweddingring.“We’vegoteverything.”
“Everything,”shebreathed.
Heleanedinandkissedhermouth,lingeringamomentbeforerepeatingthevowhe’dmadeontheirweddingdayandeverydaysince.“Youandme.Inittogether.”
“Foreverandever.”
TheEndAlreadywishingformoreJustUsLeague?Goodnews!Yourfavoritesidecharactersstarintheirownstories…
SeeGeorgieandTravisfallhead-over-clown-shoesin
FIXHERUP
WatchRosieandDominicrenovatetheirrockyrelationshipin
LOVEHERORLOSEHER
Availablewhereverbooksaresold!Acknowledgments
It’shere!WesandBethany’sstory!Itendtosavemyfavoritecoupleforlast.Thistimewasnoexception,butIdidn’texpecttorelatesohardtoBethany.Overthecourseofwritingthisbookandtalkingtoreadersduringtheprocess,IrealizedjusthowmanyofusshareBethany’sneedtokeepupappearances.Eventhoughshemostdefinitelydoesnothaveitalltogether,shewantspeopletothinkshedoes.It’snotenoughthatshe’sagoodfriend,daughter,clubpresident,andhousestager.Nothingiseverenough—andIthinkweallfeellikethatsomedays.Wecouldhavedonemore.Wecouldbemore.Wecouldlook,act,andvacationlikethepeopleweseeontheinternet.Thetruthis,we’redoingjustfine,eachandeveryoneofus.We’reenoughjustasweare.We’rethegluethatholdsourfamiliestogether,we’retheencouragingcommenteronaFacebookpostthatmightsavesomeone’sday,we’retheoneswhoseimaginationsbringwordsonapagetolife—andthat’senough.Solet’salltakeitfreakingeasyonourselves,allright?
Thankyou,asalways,tomyfamily;myeditor,NicoleFischer;marketingandpublicitygurusKayleighWebbandImaniGary;theincrediblecoverdesignerswhoworkedonthisseries;andthereaderswhocontinuetopickupmystories.
Aspecialthankstothenursesandaidesatmydaughter’sschool—Nora,Sarah,andJoanna—whotakecareofmythirdgrader,whoisatype1diabetic(andanabsolutewarrior),soIcanconcentrateonworking.
Enjoythebook!AbouttheAuthor
TESSABAILEYisoriginallyfromCarlsbad,California.Thedayafterhighschoolgraduation,shepackedheryearbook,rippedjeans,andlaptopanddrovecross-countrytoNewYorkCityinunderfourdays.HermostvaluablelifeexperienceswerelearnedthereafterwhilewaitressingatK-Dees,aManhattanpubownedbyheruncle.Insidethosefourwalls,shemetherhusbandandherbestfriendanddiscoveredthemagicofclassicrock,andshemanagedtoputherselfthroughKingsboroughCommunityCollegeandtheEnglishprogramatPaceUniversityatthesametime.Severalstuntedattemptstoentertheworkforceasajournalistfollowed,butromancewritingcontinuedtodemandherattention.
ShenowlivesinLongIsland,NewYork,withherhusbandanddaughter.Althoughsheisseverelysleep-deprived,sheisincrediblyhappytobelivingherdreamofwritingaboutpeoplefallinginlove.
Discovergreatauthors,exclusiveoffers,andmoreathc.comAlsobyTessaBailey
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Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentsareproductsoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiouslyandarenottobeconstruedasreal.Anyresemblancetoactualevents,locales,organizations,orpersons,livingordead,isentirelycoincidental.
TOOLSOFENGAGEMENT.Copyright?2020byTessaBailey.AllrightsreservedunderInternationalandPan-AmericanCopyrightConventions.Bypaymentoftherequiredfees,youhavebeengrantedthenonexclusive,nontransferablerighttoaccessandreadthetextofthise-bookon-screen.Nopartofthistextmaybereproduced,transmitted,downloaded,decompiled,reverse-engineered,orstoredinorintroducedintoanyinformationstorageandretrievalsystem,inanyformorbyanymeans,whetherelectronicormechanical,nowknownorhereafterinvented,
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