Sail (Wake #2) (34 page)

And that time, when I told him I loved him and I’d never
really
leave him ever again, he said he knew. As we finally reached the high that only our bodies gave each other, I knew he was my only future and our pasts didn’t matter anymore.

“Do you think we need anything else?” I asked.

He pushed the shopping cart, one foot on the ground and one foot pushing him forward—like the big kid he was—at the garden store we’d stopped at after breakfast. After an inspection of his mother’s garden, we both decided it needed some help. And by help, I mean the whole thing needed replanting. He agreed.

“Gloves?” he suggested. “We don’t need you getting any blisters. I have plans for those hands later on.” Then he winked and I swooned, as was customary.

“Yeah, we better get gloves.”

We paid for our supplies and drove back to his house.

Since there wasn’t anything needing tended to inside, after his sister’s way-more-thorough-than-even-my-cleaning job, we got to spend the day playing outside. We strolled down to the red shed and retrieved a few of the bigger tools we’d need. I smiled remembering what was painted on the back of the building.

“Do you think you’ll ever paint over my handy art work on the other side of the shed?” I asked, carrying the hoe and rakes he handed me back up to the house. He pushed the small tiller, which looked like it had never been used.

“Nah. It’s part of the shed now.”

It was beautiful outside and Casey wore long cut off shorts and a loose black and white striped tank top. With his red bandanna, I’d teased him about looking like a pirate pretty much the whole day.

I laughed to myself. “Rrrr,” I replied.

“Oh my god. Would you shut up? I’m gonna go change,” he said, getting tired of my shit. But the smile on his face told me he liked my shit. A lot.

“What are you going to do? Make me walk the plank?”

He stopped dead, in his sexy, pirate tracks.

I was in trouble.

“Come here,” he cried. Letting go of the tiller, he stalked toward me.

“No,” I said, dropping the tools and busting ass to get away. “Don’t. I was just kidding!” I shouted in my own defense. “Don’t touch me you loose-livered sea monkey!” I was really on a roll.

He gained on me. “You think you’re really funny,” he accused.

Then I was in the air, tucked under his arm like a football. He spun us around and I was the one getting sea sick from the sudden motion.

“Whoa. I’m gonna puke. Put me down,” I begged. “No more spinning. I’ll stop.”

“No more pirate jokes?”

“No more-Rrrr,” I said, knowing there’d be a repercussion, but I couldn’t help myself. “That was the last one. I swear-Rrrr.” All right, I had a problem. I couldn’t stop.

He dropped me. I rolled over on my back in the grass, out of breath. Still laughing. And still very dizzy. He stood high above me with his hands on his hips.

“I didn’t know you were so sensitive about your fashion choices.”

“Just keep it up, honeybee.”

“Gonna spank me?”

His eyes lit up with delight, taking my comment out of context. Well, maybe not completely. It was still a spanking, just a different kind.

Instantly, my blood ran hot thinking about the times he’d done it. I was nowhere near being into whips and chains, but in the heat of the moment, when he’d swatted my ass—it had been so damn hot. I couldn’t even lie to myself about it. I’d loved every second of him that way.

The idea excited him, too. He had an I’m-gonna-pink-your-ass-later look written all over his face. I loved finding new buttons to push with him. Every day was something new.

We worked on the garden for many hours. But to my disappointment, it wasn’t ready for all of the veggies, fruit, and flowers we’d bought to replace the ones that didn’t survive the winter and neglect.

“We got a lot done though,” he told me as we cleaned up our mess and put the tools away.

“I know. I just thought we’d finish.”

“Do you have to leave tomorrow?”

I did.

I wasn’t even flying home. I was headed straight to Cleveland for the soft opening of one of my latest clients. “Yeah, I have to go.”

He kissed me on the forehead, as he often did, and said, “Well, then let’s wash up and find something to eat. I’m starving and you need some dick.”

How poetic. It wasn’t Shakespeare or Keats, but it did the trick.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

The opening went great. The staff was amazing and the restaurant worked like a well-oiled machine. The chefs were comfortable and happy with the new menus, and dinner service was one of the smoothest I’d been witness to for a complete renovation.

Since it was apparent they didn’t need me, after all, I called and had my flight for Tuesday moved up to an earlier time. On my way to the airport that morning, I called Dr. Rex expecting to get her voicemail. But when she answered, telling me she was between classes, it was even better.

“So how was the weekend? How’d the party go?” she asked. I’d confided so much in her recently. She felt more like a friend than my doctor. However, she always found a way to bring me back around to the answers I’d had about myself, my relationships, and what I really wanted. I owed her a lot for making me so much stronger over the past few months. Or, rather, showing me how strong I was.

She didn’t like when we had to do it, but as work had become busier, we’d adapted by talking on the phone if I was out of town on a night when we’d usually meet. After I filled her in briefly about the weekend, and stated there was more I wanted to talk about, I was happy to tell her I’d be back in town—if she wanted to keep our session for that night.

“Of course. What time will you get in?”

“I can be there about seven. Will that work?”

“Sure,” she said. I told her I’d see her later when my cab pulled into the airport.

All of my flights were on time, and I was back in Seattle with enough time to swing by my place, drop my things off and get my car. I pulled into the university at seven sharp.

What I hadn’t expected to see was Grant’s truck parked in my dad’s spot. I kept driving and pulled around the building. I’d forgotten to email him to cancel when I thought I’d be out of town. It was luck I’d been able to leave early.

I was nervous. My hands shook as I gripped the steering wheel.

We hadn’t spoken verbally since the day he was in my house. Other than that, it was only emails to keep him informed of when I was seeing Dr. Rex. Usually, he’d either email back he was busy or just not show up. Since I decided to move forward with having him served the divorce papers officially, I hadn’t planned on seeing him until our court date.

I didn’t know what to do.

Me: I got that earlier flight so I could see Dr. Rex. Grant’s parked outside her building.

My phone rang.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi. Are you going in?” Casey wasn’t alarmed, but he certainly sounded concerned. “If you don’t want to, just call her and tell her. You don’t have to go in. I think it’s funny he chose today to finally show up. I didn’t think he ever would.” Casey was more mature than I ever gave him credit for. Through everything, he’d only acted with my best interests in mind. He never complained, putting my feelings first.

“Me, either. I don’t know. Maybe I can ask him to sign them while he’s here.” I’d given him a copy, but I had a spare in my briefcase, which was with me in the car. “What do you think?”

“I think, if you want to do that, wait until you’re both inside. Don’t do it in the parking lot.” He spoke calmly, but I could hear what he wasn’t saying. He was concerned.

But he had a good point; I didn’t want Grant getting irate. And as volatile as his personality had been over the whole thing, Casey’s idea was smart.

“I think that’s what I’ll do. I’m gonna let you go and pull back around front.”

“Please call me when you’re home?”

“Okay. I will.”

“Are you scared?” he asked. That was a good question. I’d never feared Grant before, and it wasn’t as if I feared him physically, I just didn’t want any more drama. I was tired of it dragging out for so long. Hopefully, tonight would be another stepping stone to the future I wanted with Casey and I’d do whatever it was I had to do to get there.

“No. I’m not scared. I’m a little anxious, but I’m okay,” I reassured.

“Okay. Remember. We’ve got this.”

“We’ve got this.” It was becoming a bit of a creed between us.

“Okay, bye.”

“Call me later. Bye,” he said as I hung up.

Slipping my phone into my purse, I reached behind my seat to my briefcase. I found the papers quickly, put them in the passenger seat, and drove around to the other side of the building.

When I pulled in, Grant was standing outside of his truck leaning against it.

“I thought that was you,” he said as I got out.

“Yeah, my phone rang so I took a call really quick.”

He looked fine, calm. I felt some of my apprehension leave from those few words we’d spoken.

“I’m surprised you came,” I said and headed toward the door. He followed.

I needed to be polite, but I didn’t want him thinking the appointment was something it most certainly was not.

“Sorry about that. I’ve been busy,” he said and held the door open for me as I passed through.

“That’s good. I’ve been busy too.”

Since he didn’t know where we were going, I moved us in the direction of Dr. Rex’s office. He figured it out when the door opened. But he stopped, and said, “Wait.”

I halted and my head rolled to the side as I looked at him.

“What, Grant?”

He fidgeted, looking more like the Grant I was becoming used to.

“I’m glad you want to try to work this out, Blake. I’ve really missed you.”

Was he kidding?
Work it out?
We hadn’t spoken in months.

“Grant, there isn’t anything to work out. I only kept inviting you because Casey said I needed to keep the arrangement I’d made with you.” Then I thought better of what I’d said, having been so used to just telling the truth, it was hard to filter myself. Even with Grant.

“You’re still with him?” he asked. Where did he get off?

“Yes, I’m still with him. I love him, Grant.”

“You know he bought your apartment building and changed all the locks, right?”

“So?” I replied hastily. What I really wanted to say was, “Yeah, so you wouldn’t just walk in whenever you pleased.” But I didn’t. That time, I watched my mouth.

“So…it doesn’t even bother you that he’d try to control you like that?”

There was no controlling the raw laugh that propelled from me.

“First of all,” I stated, “thanks for being so concerned that you didn’t bother to mention it for months. And second, Casey wasn’t trying to control me. He was
helping
me.”

“Is that what he’s telling you, Blake?” Grant was becoming agitated. But hell, so was I.

“Hello,” Dr. Rex interjected from her doorway. “Grant?” She questioned with her eyes, and I gave her a nod. “Blake, do you want to come in?” I did want to go in, but I didn’t see any point in him coming in at all.

“I do,” I answered her. Then I looked at Grant and said, “But I think you should leave.” I wasn’t sure where it came from, but I said it. It was what I wanted.

The look he gave me was priceless. It said, “I just got here.”

So I put on a look that said, “I don’t give a fuck,” and walked my ass into Dr. Rex’s office and shut the door.

There comes a time when a woman has to be a bitch. And in all the years past, when I should have just been the bitch and got shit over with, I’d tried to be nice. I’d tried to do what I thought was expected of me. But that wasn’t who I was anymore. And the new Blake, as it turns out, is sometimes a real bitch.