Conflicting Hearts (20 page)

“What are you looking at?” He’s annoying me.

“You.”

“Well, that’s obvious.” I plop myself at the other end of
the couch and gape at him in return. “So what are you doing here Ian Alexander
Richards?”

He’s silent for a moment, and I wonder what he’s thinking.
All the while he continues to stare at me with his piercing blue eyes, and it’s
making me anxious.

“Our conversation ended too soon, and I felt like more
needed to be said between us.”

I can’t handle his intense look any longer, so I pull my
eyes away and fiddle with the hem of my skirt.

“Besides,” he continues. “You said you loved me.”

I find the courage to look at him again, and I see his
smart-ass smile. “Oh, you caught those words, did you?”

I feel anxious wondering where he’s going with this. A part
of me hopes it’s the couch, floor, or wherever. I’m aroused looking at him, but
then I think about the
other stuff
he’s been doing with his ex-wife,
which douses me with a bucket of cold water. I’m angry he didn’t keep his pants
zipped, or maybe she seduced him and that was her plan all along. My anger
shifts toward her underhanded tactics.

His face turns deadly serious. “Did you mean it, Rachel?”

All right, now I’m really frustrated with him. Does that
suddenly make a difference in his confused brain?
Men
, I bitch inwardly.

“What do you think?” I’m learning the tricks of my
counselor—skirt the issue and ask questions instead.

“Don’t know.”

“Well, I guess you can either ignore it or figure it out for
yourself.”

I’m sounding really bitchy, as I pull my eyes away from him
and glance out of my sliding glass door. It’s really dirty, and I wander off
thinking about how I need to grab some paper towels and squirt it with cleaner.
My thoughts wander back where they should be.

His presence on the couch reminds me how much I love him,
but I’m afraid to let my guard down. I don’t want to lose him to another woman,
who never learned to appreciate him in the first place. It takes restraint, but
I keep my face impassive and voice calm.

“Tell me what you feel about your ex-wife. I want to
understand.”

My question breaks his stare and all of a sudden the relaxed
Ian turns into pensive Ian. He drops his arm from the back of the couch, pulls
in his leg, and inhales a deep breath. His body language screams volumes of
agitation, but I’m not going to let him off the hook.

The seconds tick by, like he’s hoping I will relent, but I
keep a constant, patient gaze in his direction.
Oh, this is good. Rachel
Hayward has the upper hand for a brief moment.
At last, one word slips
between his lips.

“Failure.”

His answer stuns me. I narrow my eyes. “Failure?” He bobs
his head “yes.” Boy this guy needs a counselor too. “Explain.”

“I genuinely loved Susan when we wed. Having a lasting,
happy marriage with her was an important goal in my life. When she left me, I
knew I had blown it. I wasn’t the husband she needed.” His voice is trembling.
“Now she’s back, I’m thinking it’s a second chance to make it right.”

Rachel the counselor kicks in. “Why do you take all the
responsibility for the failure of your marriage? Don’t you think she had a
responsibility to strive for a happy marriage too?”

“Well, sure,” he sighs. “However, it’s the man’s
responsibility foremost.” He gives me a stupid look.

I can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. Clearly,
the woman is manipulating Ian. Mr. Goodie-Two-Shoes, without a mean bone in his
body, is as screwed up as I am—only in a different sort of way. I’m finding a
strange sense of comfort in this dilemma, and a release of guilt for dealing
with my problems.

“Don’t let her take advantage of your kind heart, Ian. Be
wise and make sure she’s sincere, if you want to continue down that path of
reconciliation.”

He’s back to staring at me again. I want to know what is
going through his muddled mind. Where’s the chain saw when you need one?

“What are you thinking?” I pry.

“I’m thinking that I’m still attached to you, but I’m
dealing with our conflicting sexual desires.”

We’re back to that subject. It’s clear the man isn’t going
to give up his poking.

“Point taken,” I say, a bit annoyed. “Does it bother you
that much?”

“I don’t want to hurt you Rachel. It’s not in me. There’s
nothing sexy to me about causing you pain. It’s disrespectful to you as a
woman.” He pulls his eyes from me and lowers his head. “In fact, it sickened me
after what I did to you that night at the beach house. I felt like shit for
days. After you left, I almost lost it.”

“Yes, and I felt satisfied but filled with shame afterward
for leading you down that road.” I inhale a deep breath and scoot a bit closer
to him. It’s time to get this out of my soul once and for all.

“Look, Ian. I didn’t ask to be this way. At five years of
age, a monster pinned me to a bed, fondled me, masturbated upon me, and brought
me to sexual arousal repeatedly. I’ve been abusing myself because of it for
twenty-five years. In fact, I started masturbating alone as a child, because I
didn’t know any better. All I knew is that if I put something hard between my
legs, I’d feel good, and then relieved. I can remember hiding under the covers
of my bed to keep that secret away from my parents.”

My cheeks feel as if they are on fire. I’m so embarrassed to
be telling him these secrets, but I feel like I need to get every detail out on
the table so he can make a decision about me one way or the other.

“Every time I think about being bound and hurt, I get turned
on—really turned on. It’s revolting to you, I get that. But for me, I don’t
know anything else, because I was molded that way as a child.” I’m sounding
like a psychiatrist now. “I’m trying my best to understand why I react as I do
and find a way to overcome the part of me that I despise. Somewhere in my soul
is a little girl that needs to be set free and healed.”

After that long, ranting confession, tears well in my eyes.
Ian looks shocked, but not repulsed. I see a hint of sympathy in his gaze.

“Even if you never hurt me in bed again, Ian, and you make
the most beautiful and tender love to me in the world, I’ll probably fantasize
in my mind that you’re doing to me what I honestly want—being rough and
forceful. That alone will bring me to an orgasm, but I don’t think you’d want me
to even imagine such degeneracy on your part. You’re too respectful of a person
to be painted in that light.”

 I’m emotionally spent and naked in front of the man I
love. It’s clear that he’s trying to process all that I’m saying. He looks down
at my hand and then reaches out and takes it into his own. His fingers are ice
cold, and my hand is burning hot.

“You went to counseling because you loved me, didn’t you?”

“At first I did. After I got into it, I realized that I was
also doing it for myself. I came to a place where I wanted to change.” I inhale
a deep breath and squeeze his hand in return. “Now, I’m not sure if it’s worth
it, if I don’t have you.”

My heart stops a beat as I look at him for a reaction. He’s
rubbing my hand with his thumb and thinking. Then he leans forward heading for
my lips. I see him coming, so I close my eyes. When he touches me tenderly, I
can’t believe it, but he tastes like honey—sweet, warm, and loving. It’s
wonderful to open my heart and accept the tenderness he gives.

Ian pulls away and lifts his hand to the side of my head. He
affectionately strokes my hair for a few seconds and then brings his index
finger across my lips.

“I’ve missed you,” he dotingly whispers.

A smile curls my lips, because he didn’t totally wipe me from
his mind while we were apart. Yet, I feel like he’s committing adultery,
because in the back of my mind, I see his ex-wife looking over his shoulder. He
may miss me, but I still don’t think he’s decided which road to take.

“Come with me to the beach house this weekend.”

My mouth drops open at his invitation. I wasn’t expecting
that move. The first reaction I have is to call Dr. Grayson for advice, but
there is no time to talk it out.

“Why?”

“It’s important to me, that’s why. I can’t say any more than
that.”

There’s longing and urgency in his eyes. I really do want to
spend time with him, so I agree with a smile. “All right, I’ll come.”

“Pick you up at seven after work tomorrow?”

“Sure, but what about…”

“Susan is out of town.”

“So you’re cheating on her?”

“No, I’m not cheating on her.” He gulps. “There’s no
agreement between us right now. I’m free to do as I will.”

I don’t want to let it go. “Does she know about me and what
we had?”

“She doesn’t know it’s you specifically. Susan only knows
that I had been in a relationship.”

I’m irked. The prospects are compelling, because I want to
weasel my way back into his life and get my claws in him and be sure that she
doesn’t.

My lips release a puff of air, thinking that he’s made love
to her. Trust issues come to the forefront, as I feel like he’s cheated on me
or something!
God, this is screwed up
, I think to myself. He was
probably horny, and I’m reading too much into this. Men get horny and unzip
their pants without thinking.

“Okay, then, seven p.m. I’ll be ready.”

“I’ve got reservations at a nice restaurant for dinner
Saturday night. I’d like to take you out, so would you bring a nice dress for
the occasion?”

I look at him cockeyed at his unusual request but comply.
“All right.” If he’s suggesting a romantic evening together, I’ll do the dinner
thing.

Ian smiles. I see in his eyes a glow of relief. He wants me
with him, that’s all that matters.

“I need to go,” he says, rising from the couch. He walks
toward the door, and I follow.

“Thanks for coming over, Ian. I wanted you to follow after
me.” My eyes are filled with gratitude.

“Yeah, I knew you did. Just took me a minute to act upon it.
Sorry.” He lowers his eyes to the floor as if he’s been reprimanded.

The moment is overwhelming, and I can’t help myself.
Guardedly, I draw near to him, wrap my arms around his waist, and lay my head
on his chest. The beating of his kind heart fills my ears. It’s peaceful.

He wraps his arms around me in return and rests his chin on
the top of my head. Ian releases a sigh. For a few moments, we hold one
another. In our embrace I sense a healing flow between us.

“Forgive me,” I whisper, tightening my hug.

“For what, sweetheart?”

“For hurting you.”

“Ah, Rachel, you know I forgive you.”

He pulls away from me and puts both of his hands tenderly on
the side of my face. Ian’s eyes look deep into my soul. “Have you forgiven me
for hurting you?”

In my heart, there is nothing to forgive, except for my
resentment over his weakness with Susan. It’s obvious, though, by the look on
his penitent face, that he needs a release of guilt for what transpired between
us that awful night at Cannon Beach.

Tears threaten to undo my resolve, and I give him a warm
smile. “You know I do.” He gives me a sweet kiss again, which fills my heart
with hope that I may still have a future with him. The next I know he’s out the
door and gone.

I hear Whiskers scratching at my bedroom door, and then one
white paw reaches out from underneath clawing to get out.

“All right, all right.” I open it, and he runs past me
looking for Ian. “Well, nice to see you too, traitor!” Frankly, who can blame
him? All I want to do is run after Ian too.

Chapter 20

Keeping Secrets

Ian seems happy when he picks me up Friday night, but I can
tell he is exhausted after another long work week. Our conversation remains
superficial for the entire one and half hour drive. I feel tired and slightly
apprehensive myself, anticipating the weekend ahead.  

When we arrive at his beach house, I can’t help but wonder
if he spent a night here with Susan. The thought of crawling in his bed gives
me the creeps. I don’t think I’d be too happy to smell a different scent of
perfume on his pillowcase. In fact, I know I wouldn’t. After entering his
living room, I look at the couch and offer up a sacrifice.

“How about I take the couch this time and you the bed?”

“Are you sure?” The poor guy has dark circles underneath his
eyes.

“Yeah, that’s fine. There’s a bath downstairs, and I have
everything that I need. Besides, I would like to sit outside for a while on the
deck. I don’t want to disturb you, if I do.”

I wonder if he suspects why I asked for the couch, but he
doesn’t argue the point. He looks too tired to care.

“All right, then. Let me run upstairs and get you a blanket
and pillow.”

Ian heads up to the loft, and I walk over to the sliding
glass door and unlock it. My hand pulls it open a bit and immediately the
invigorating ocean air kisses my face. The sounds of the waves soothe my soul.
I feel as if I have arrived home where I belong.

“Here you go.”

A pillow hits the floor, and I swing around to look up at
Ian about ready to toss the blanket down to me as well. He’s definitely not
getting off that easy.

“That’s it? Blanket and pillow toss and no kiss?” I cross my
arms and glare at him. A look of guilt flashes across his face, and immediately
I’m sorry for the tease. He reminds me of a sensitive Golden Retriever that
always wants to please you.

“Sure sweets,” he says, trotting down the staircase. “Give
me a smooch.”

He’s acting like a dork, and it makes me giggle. He’s
carefree for the moment, and that means he’s relaxed, or I think it does. I
wrap my arms around his neck and tilt my head back. “Ready,” I whisper, closing
my eyes. A moment later his lips mold around mine, but he doesn’t invade me
with his tongue. I take what I can get, albeit a tad disappointed over his
presentation. In my head, I hold up the score card. He only gets a six, and I
smirk over my thoughts.

“Thanks. Now go to bed.”

“Night, Rach,” he says, turning around and slowly dragging
himself upstairs. He stops at the top of the landing. “Come get me if you need
anything.”

“Go,” I wave him off, “I’m fine. Get some sleep.” He nods
his head and disappears into the back of the loft.

After picking up the pillow and blanket, I arrange it on the
couch so I can look out the window. I’m not going to pull the curtains shut and
block out the atmosphere. Suddenly, I think about the dress packed in my
suitcase. I don’t want it wrinkled, so I take it out and hang it up behind the
bathroom door. After my nighttime routine, I crawl under the cover and get
comfy.

For a few minutes I lay staring into the dark toward the
ocean. My ears hear the soft, soothing rush of water rolling up and down on the
sandy beach. The sound embraces me, and it doesn’t take long before I’m off to
the land where dreams are made.

* * * *

Morning arrives and I hear Ian clinking around in the
kitchen. My nose picks up the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. I slightly panic
over how I look, because I’m not exactly a beauty queen when I wake up. My hair
always looks like a bird’s nest.

Quickly, I sneak off to the bathroom without him seeing me
and do quick repairs by brushing my teeth and combing my hair. I decide to
remain in my PJ’s—might as well feel comfortable.

I wander out and follow the smell of hot caffeine.

“Hey, you’re up,” he says, turning around and eyeing me up
and down. A smirk spreads across his face. “Cute, but where’s your kitty PJ’s?”

I roll my eyes cringing that this handsome man actually saw me
dressed in child’s apparel. Then I’m reminded, I am a little girl inside my
mind—if he only knew.

“At home where they belong,” I say, heading for the cupboard
where he keeps his cups. I’m smiling because I know where they are. The coffee
maker makes its last steamy slurp into the carafe.

“What cup do you want?”

“Nothing special. Here take this,” he says, shoving an empty
cup with his law firm’s name on it.

I stare at it then say, “Cute.” And pour him a cup, along
with mine. “So, what’s on the agenda today?” I climb on top of one of the
stools by the kitchen island.

“Nothing specific, except for dinner tonight.” Suddenly, a
look of panic flashes across his face. “You will do dinner with me, right?”

He’s really anxious about this night out. Maybe he thinks
I’m going to back out, but I’m not afraid to dine out with him anymore.
I
can handle this
, I remind myself. Besides, I could use a decent meal.

“Yes, of course. Where are we going?”

He smiles, and a sparkle flashes in his blue eyes.
“Stephanie Inn.”

My mouth drops open. “Oh, wow, I’ve never been there.” It’s
too pricy for my wallet, but Ian can afford it. Nevertheless, the look on his
face bothers me. I can’t help but wonder what the reason is behind the date.
Perhaps, he’s romancing me. The thought gives me hope.

Suddenly, his cell phone on the kitchen counter rings. He
looks at it and instantly snatches it up.

“Excuse me,” he says, while running up the stairs to the
loft. I scowl, wondering if it’s Susan.

I strain to hear Ian’s conversation from the kitchen, but I
can only catch a few words spoken here and there.

“Good…trip okay?”

 
Damn, he’s talking to Susan
, I seethe.
Cautiously, I sneak a little closer to the bottom of the stairs, but stay out
of sight.

“Yeah, sure, that’s fine. How’s mom?”

Mom?
Now I’m thoroughly confused. Maybe it’s not
Susan. Ian breaks out in laughter. “You got to be kidding me?”

This conversation is driving me bonkers.

“Uh-huh, yeah…sure…okay.”  

His voice drops really low, but I still hear him talk. It’s
obvious he doesn’t want me to know what is going on. I skedaddle back to the
kitchen and start sipping the brew, acting innocent. A few moments later, Ian
walks in and plays dumb.

“Everything okay?” I pry looking up at him.

“Yeah, sure.”

He avoids eye contact with me. Apparently, that’s becoming a
habit, and I find it irksome because I can’t read what he’s thinking. Okay, he
doesn’t want to talk or tell me who was on the telephone. He’s hiding
something, but I can tell from his body language he’s nervous as hell. I don’t
want to push it, so I let it drop.

“So, you
are
okay about dinner with me tonight?”

He looks at me checking my response one more time. This
dinner thing is important. “Yeah, I think I can handle it now that I know you
better.” He flashes a relieved smile.

“Great,” he replies.

“I think I’ll go shower and get dressed,” I announce,
emptying my coffee cup and heading off to the bathroom.

“You want to go for a walk on the beach later?” he calls out
after me.

I glance outside. A slight morning fog is lying off shore,
but later on it should burn off. It’s supposed to be sunny this weekend.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

“Good, I’ll go get cleaned up. We can have a bite to eat
before we head out.”

“Okay,” I say, walking into the bathroom. I close the door
and wonder what’s going on with him. He’s acting secretive, and I’m dying to
know who was on the telephone.