Blind Her With Bliss (12 page)

That’s what he loved about her. Scratch that. That’s what he
liked
about being with this person. Julie saw things others didn’t bother to notice.

“You ever wonder if it’s all worth it?” he asked. “I mean, you ever wonder if you’re even in the right place for this time in your life or was there somewhere along the way you chose wrong? And now you’ve screwed up your life so badly that the map you thought you were following isn’t even in the same time zone?”

She came up on her elbow and looked down at him, her hand drawing lazy circles on his chest.
“All the time.”
Her eyes wouldn’t meet his. “I wonder if I’m living my life for other people, or do I really want what I have right now.”

“I sure don’t.” He absently slid his palm along the curve of her ass.

“You’re kidding.”

“I didn’t come to Maine to work as a shock jock. But given the choice of eating or being happy… I choose food every time!”

She laughed. “So, besides food, what makes you happy?”

He rolled her on top of him. “This.”

Julie kissed him before stacking her fists and setting her chin on them, all humor gone from her expression.
 
“Really, Damon.
True. Flat out. Giddy with joy, happy.”

Hands down.”
When she didn’t laugh, he continued. “I’ve always wanted to be a concert pianist. But it wasn’t in the cards.” He put his arm beneath his head so he could better read her reaction. But her eyes had a faraway look, staring at something he couldn’t see. “And you?”

“I’ve always wanted to run a corporation. Manage a bunch of people. I love people.
Big huge crowds of them.”

“What are you doing in Delmont? Not too many big accounting firms there.”

Family comes before anything in life.” She said it so matter-of-factly he didn’t know what to do with the information. He had no family.

“Sometimes we need to take care of ourselves first.” He nuzzled his lips into the tender spot behind her ear. She melted against him just as he’d hoped and his cock sprang to life. He didn’t really want to get into conversations of family and commitments and such. He’d become very good at avoiding the past.

Her mouth fused with his, warm and pliant. Obviously they’d had enough serious conversation.

Let the fun and games continue.

* * * *

The wind raced past Julie. The trees whipped by almost as fast as the thoughts whirling in her head. Damon pushed the motorcycle through the waning night as if he were fleeing from something. Two nights ago, she knew nothing of the world of pornography. Tonight she’d acted out her wildest fantasies with a man she barely knew, as if she too were part of that world.

What had happened to the predictable Julie? Had she known she’d slough off that woman with the conservative clothes she’d pushed to the back of her closet? Had her psyche been yearning for this transformation? Julie snuggled against Damon. Did she really want to give up that person if it meant giving up the man who had opened her eyes to a new world of sexuality? Perhaps this whole thing was deviant and unhealthy. But the pleasant soreness between her thighs told her otherwise.

Was this how Jason had started? Experimenting in clubs with other men? Finding their bodies satisfied his sexual needs better than a woman?
And what of Deirdre?
Julie had never been brave enough to question her own sister about her sexual orientation. But perhaps none of that was her business. Not Jason’s personal life and definitely not her sister’s.

There were too many questions without answers.

They pulled into her drive as the sun peeked over the horizon. Julie had a hard time maneuvering off the bike. Her thighs shook with the effort, and the lack of sleep made her dizzy.

“Well.” She removed the helmet and handed it back to Damon. Shyness crept up her chest and settled on her heated cheeks. The man before her had kissed every inch of her tingling skin. He’d taught her things about her body she’d never been brave enough to discover on her own. And as she stood before him in the shadow of her parents’ house, everything they had done cloaked in the secrets of night, seemed shameful and wrong in the brightening light of this day.

Damon asked cheerfully.

“I think—”

“Julie. Oh, my God, there you are.” Meghan ran over from her parents’ home. “We’ve been calling your cell all night. Where’ve you been?”

Meghan appeared as frazzled as Julie felt. Her sister’s usual manicured look had been substituted with a fresh out-of-bed rumple that Julie hadn’t seen since they’d shared a bedroom. If the eyes were the window to the soul, Meghan’s puffy and bruised expression spoke of a woman on the brink of disaster.

“Meg, honey, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“I don’t know where you’ve been. But we needed you.” Anger rode on the words ground out through Meghan’s clenched teeth. “It’s Daddy. He had a heart attack last night, and we couldn’t find you.”

Julie’s knees let go. She grabbed for Meghan, but her sister yanked away. If Damon hadn’t caught her from behind she would have fallen.

“He was in ICU when I left two hours ago.” Fresh tears streamed down Meghan’s cheeks. “If anything happened while I was here waiting for you…” Meghan’s finger cut through the air. “I’m not sure I can ever forgive you.” Her sister turned on her heel and stomped away. “Peter and I are headed back to the hospital now if you want a ride.”

“Julie, I’ll take—”

“No, Damon.” She didn’t want his help. There was nothing he could say or
do that
could ease the guilt tightening around her chest. “I have responsibilities.” Pain sliced through her. The one time she’d let someone talk her out of being responsible, the bottom fell out of her world. “I can’t blame you for me letting my guard down. But it was foolish and I knew better.” Misery, confusion and anger pushed her from his arms and sent her stumbling toward her parents’ home. “I knew better than to leave without my phone…”

She didn’t finish.
Didn’t want to put the responsibility on Damon.
But he’d made her believe she could go through her days without putting other people first. He didn’t understand how much her family depended on her, but she couldn’t blame him.

Tears welled in her eyes. “There’s no room for you in my reality, Damon. Just go home. Playtime is over.”

“Julie, Chelsea’s taking care of the customers out front,” Meghan called from the flower shop workroom. “I’ve got to go into Bangor to get some extra ribbon for the pew markers for the Fowler wedding.” Her sister poked her head into the back office, but didn’t meet Julie’s wounded stare.

It had been like this all week.

“And if you’re not
too busy
,” she continued, “it’s your turn to cook dinner for Mum and Daddy. Of course, if you have some secret date I can go again tonight.”

Julie looked up from the stack of papers strewn across her desk. She hated Thursdays. Actually, she hated every day since returning to Delmont, but Thursdays just sucked more. There was the whole payroll to do and the statements to prepare for Meghan’s weddings this weekend and estimates from Deirdre she still needed to file. The pile of papers never seemed to diminish no matter how hard she worked.

And now she had her sister’s crappy attitude tipping her past the breaking point.

“That’s it.” The pencil in Julie’s hand snapped with her patience. “I’ve been playing the contrite sister since last weekend while you’re acting like a spoiled brat.”

“Me?” Meghan laid a limp hand over her heart. “I’m not the one who went AWOL just to screw around with a total stranger. It’s obvious where your priorities lie.”

“Oh, like I knew Daddy was going to have a heart attack. Yeah, that’s me, always running from responsibilities.” The hurt tumbled over anger, rolling into an emotional snowball that plunged headlong without regret into Meghan’s feelings.

“Why do I always have to be the one to shoulder everyone’s problems?” Tears burned Julie’s eyes. “Julie, can you water my plants while I’m on vacation? Julie, should I have fish or steak for dinner? Julie, come home and pull my business out of financial ruin. Julie, talk to Doc McCarty about Daddy’s test results. Julie, feed me, clothe me,
love
me. Well, Meghan, when the hell do I get to lean on anyone?”

“That’s not fair!”

“You’re right, it’s not fair! It’s not fair that I live everyone else’s life, but can’t have one of my own. And when I finally do…I get punished for it!” Julie pushed away from the mess. “Frankly, Meghan, I’m sick of it.
Sick of putting my needs on hold.
Sick of trying to live up to everyone else’s expectations.
Sick of,” she swiped the papers off her desk, “sick of all this crap.” She shoved past Meghan, but turned and stared down at eyes filled with tears and loathing. “And don’t worry about tonight, little sister. I realize it’s my turn to cook dinner. I’ll be the ever-vigilant daughter and hold back the tide.
Like always.”

* * * *

Damon stared down at the cell phone in his hand, willing it to ring.

Julie
still
hadn’t called. And she hadn’t answered her phone either. Not her cell. Not her house phone. Not the phone at the shop. He’d left messages Sunday and Monday inquiring about her father—wanting to apologize. What really hurt is that she wouldn’t talk to him. So he’d just kept calling several times a day, praying she’d pick up the phone, but not bothering to leave a message when she didn’t.

“Hey, Demon, you get that promo done?” The station manager looked up from a handful of papers as they passed in the hall of WKOR.

“Whoa, dude! Don’t let your fans see you that way.”

Damon looked down at the black dress pants and tailored shirt. He ran a hand over his chin, wondering if he should do another quick shave before heading to Bangor. “No, that wouldn’t do would it?” Wouldn’t his boss be amused if he knew where Damon was headed this afternoon?

“Bad boys don’t clean up that nice,” his boss said over his shoulder.

“Yeah, thanks for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Life was too short to spend time spinning your wheels somewhere you didn’t want to be. Somehow, in her very mixed-up world of family obligations, Julie had unknowingly drilled that point home. Shit, he missed her.

Damon slinked into the control room. “Hey, Randy,” he said to the tech.

Randy barely looked up until he caught the outfit and nearly fell out of his chair craning his neck into the studio. “What the fuck, man? Someone die?”

“Yeah, something
like
that.”

Damon went through the motions of recording the promo, his mind somewhere else. When it was finished, he slapped Randy on the back and ambled out of the radio station. What had taken him hours to perfect three months ago didn’t even cause him any concern these days. Demon’s personality, like it or not—and he didn’t—was now an integral part of him. Yelling into a microphone to promote his next public appearance had become second nature. That was not good. Well, he was on his way to rectify that. Even if no one else knew, he was truly happy about his decision. He would have been more pleased if he could have shared it with Julie, but somehow her father’s heart attack had been his fault and she didn’t seem to give a shit what he did.

That was a depressing thought. Settling his sunglasses in place, Damon stepped out into the summer sun. The season hadn’t loosened its grip, and he was grateful he’d brought the Saturn with the air conditioning instead of the bike. With the weight of blame he slogged around over keeping Julie from her family adding to the oppressive humidity, Damon didn’t think he could have handled the bike anyway.

“Damon?”

He recognized the shaky voice, but not the shell of a woman speaking. “Julie?” He wanted to believe she was standing there and not just a mirage wavering in the heat rising off the tar of the parking lot. The wind danced with her hair, and she pushed it out of her eyes; emerald pools glistening with unshed sadness. He walked to her, but she looked too fragile to touch.

“Julie, what is it? Is your father all right? He didn’t…” Damon bent so he could read her face. As morbid as it seemed, he’d checked the obituaries every day. No John Tilling had been among the pictures. But the sadness rippling her brow said something different.

“No, he’s fine. Doc McCarty gave him heart medication and put him on a special diet. He just needs to take it easy for awhile. He came home Monday night.”

“Then what—”

“I’m sorry—”

They spoke at the same time.

“You go.” Julie’s mouth quivered in a half smile.

Damon wanted so badly to gather her in his arms, but until he knew why she’d come to him, he didn’t intend to scare her off with words or actions.

“I’m not sure why I’m here, Damon. I was just driving around and…oh, I don’t know what I was thinking. I just need—”

“A friend?” he asked, when she couldn’t seem to figure out what she wanted.

Julie collapsed in his embrace. He guided her to his car parked in the shade and held her while emotion poured out with the sobs wracking her body. Her tears dampened his shirt, and all he could think was how she smelled like lilacs and felt like heaven pressed against him. He silently thanked the roads of fate that destiny had delivered her back into his arms.

He listened to her worried thoughts concerning her father’s health and justified complaints about her sisters’ behavior until time pressed him into action and he talked Julie into joining him. The woman who had filled his nights with restless thoughts of love and lust now sat in his passenger seat as he drove the Saturn out of the parking lot.

“You promise to have me at my parents’ house by four?
Four-thirty at the latest?”
Julie’s hands moved restlessly in her lap.

“If it means I have to rent a jet from Bangor, I will deliver you back to Delmont in time to make dinner for your parents.”

“And I have my cell phone.” She held up the device she clutched like a life preserver.

“I know your family needs you right now. But I’m happy you’ve decided to come with me.” That was an understatement. Just having her near gave him the boost of confidence he so desperately needed right now.

“When you said you wanted to play piano, you failed to mention you’re a trained pianist,” she said.

“My mother taught me.”

“Another side of Damon Corey I didn’t know.”

“That’s the
real
me.”

Tell me about the young Damon.”

He laughed. “Hell on wheels. That’s what my father used to say. I spoke two languages and could sweet-talk the girls in both of them by the age of ten.”

Julie laughed, the joy of it reaching up to push away the sadness that had filled her eyes. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“My mother used to sit me on her lap when she played. I started making music on the piano before I could write my name.”

Julie traced a finger in the dimple framing his smile. “She’s a concert pianist?”

No, she used to play the violin. The piano was my father’s instrument.”

She gave it up?”

“My mother’s dead.”

“Damon, I’m so sorry.” Her fingers dug into his biceps. Of course she’d understand.

“Don’t be.” In an instant, his pride turned to bitterness. “She died when I was teenager. I’m over it.” Actually, talking about it still cut deeply, but he didn’t want those negative emotions to mar this day.

“No one gets over their mother’s death, Damon.”

“Yeah, well, seeing as she abandoned me to my drunken father and followed her lover to Europe, her death wasn’t really too much of a loss.” He swallowed, still finding the pill bitter all these years later. “She died on the autobahn in Germany exactly the way she wanted to live, fast and free.” He wanted it not to matter, but he could see by the furrow in her brow, that Julie understood it did.

“Damon, who knows why parents do the things they do.” Her palm cupped his jaw, and her thumb caressed his cheek. The action was not intended to be sensual, but his body reacted immediately. “But I might have an inkling why someone might run from familial responsibilities.” Dropping her hand to her lap, she turned to look out the window. “Sometimes they’re just overwhelming.” She shrugged as if to apologize for sympathizing. “Right or wrong, I can understand it.”

“Love can sometimes overwhelm a person.” Of course, he wasn’t talking about his parents. He was talking about his heart.

“So are you close with your father?” Julie asked.

He laughed derisively. “No. Without my mother to hold him up, he fell into the bottle and drowned himself. His death certificate reads liver failure. But in reality, he died of a broken heart.”

* * * *

It was a wonder the man pouring his soul out through the piano keys didn’t simply collapse; an empty husk of a body, sacrificing everything to give life to the passionate strains of music filling the auditorium. Surely nothing so poignant could come from anywhere other than the heart. As melancholy notes penned by some dead composer plucked at her heartstrings, Julie could feel Damon’s sorrow filling her and resonating through every molecule of air.