Sea Glass Cottage (12 page)

“What did you mean earlier when you said you paid several hundred times over for marrying the wrong man?”

“He liked to settle an argument the old-fashioned way. His way meant force, force equaled loyalty and no argument about anything.”

The implication sank in and explained her bully comments the day before. It also went a long way to figuring out why she’d kept her distance. It answered the big mystery Zach had put forth. “Where is the bastard now?”

“I finally wised up and divorced his sorry ass. Last I heard, he lives somewhere in the south of France with the poor, unfortunate woman who crossed his psychotic path.” Izzy leaned in and whispered the rest so there was no chance of Jonah waking up and overhearing. “She’s welcome to the brutal son of a bitch.”

Thane chuckled at the way she said it. “Good for you. But don’t you sometimes live in fear he’ll find where you are and show up out of the blue?”

She looked away without raising doubt, her answer firm. “Nope. He’s too cowardly to pick a fight with another man. Logan would beat his ass into the ground if he comes anywhere near me.”

“Logan?” Zach’s accusation reared its ugly head and began to circle Thane’s head like a pack of vultures.

“Yes, Logan. Long story. The man’s like a brother to me.”

For some reason, relief moved through him, putting Zach’s words back in the garbage where they belonged.

“Sure, there was a time I spent my fair share of sleepless nights worrying that somehow my ex would find me and kill me for leaving him. Because he’d promised that’s what he’d do enough times. Look, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk about something else. I really don’t like talking about him.”

“No problem. I need to put Jonah to bed. Will you wait here?”

Their eyes met, green to blue. The look ignited heat simmering just below the surface, rousing desire in both long gone dormant.

“Sure.” She watched as Thane scooped Jonah up and carried him into the bedroom. As soon as he disappeared into the hallway, a case of sweaty palms and nerves hit Isabella. She fanned her face with a hand, all the while wondering if she should bolt for the door. That would be the chicken way out, she decided.

She drew in a timid breath, resolved to see this through, even if it meant making an ass out of herself. Rudeness had been what brought her here to apologize. Sharing a meal hadn’t been part of her equation. But then neither had lust. She couldn’t very well dash out the door while he was tucking his son into bed.

“Don’t look as though you’re about to swallow nasty-tasting medicine,” Thane said from the doorway of the great room. “I’m really not that bad.”

“But I am.” She grimaced at the memory of making love to a man she’d grown to despise over the years. “I always was a disappointment to him, my ex, about so many things.”

“Shhh. None of that. You don’t have to talk about him.” He sat down, picked up her hand and took her chin. “I’m pretty sure I remember how this goes.” He moved in, measured and slow, determined not to spook her. But when he realized she was trembling, he backed off, putting a good foot between them. “Isabella?”

“What?”

As much as he wanted to kiss that mouth, he heard himself say, “We’ll wait until you aren’t repulsed or shaking at the thought of being near me.”

“I… I’m not repulsed.” She reached for her wine glass, knocked back the contents.

He took the glass out of her hand, let out a solid laugh. “Now there’s good news. Knowing you aren’t repulsed by me. That’s the best newsflash I’ve heard in three months. But getting you drunk is hardly the route I’d take to talking you into bed.”

“I believe in full disclosure which means you should know it’s been a long time for me. And I wasn’t all that great at it before so… I doubt I’ve improved over time without any practice.”

“Shh,” he murmured again as he moved to her mouth.

Right before their lips touched, she couldn’t seem to keep her mouth from moving. “Three months, is that how long it’s been for you?” Appalled at her own boldness, her hand flew to her mouth, her fingernail scraping his chin. “I’m sorry. See, I’m nervous… I had no right to ask such a personal question… I didn’t mean to be so nosy. I didn’t mean to scratch you.”

He stilled her nerves by telling her, “Take a breath. It’s been longer than that for me. And you? How long has it been for you?”

“I don’t even want to think about the last time.”

He watched as she made a face and then uttered in disgust, “Okay, three years. I don’t even miss it. At least not with
him
.”

Thane tugged her closer, put his arm around her shoulder in a casual way, picked up the remote with the other hand to turn the channel. “Then let’s find something to watch on cable. Let’s try to remember, it’s Saturday night. Somewhere in the world two single adults went out on a normal date for dinner and a movie. Remember those days of old? Anyway, people do this all the time. Let’s see if we can emulate them.” 

“It doesn’t have to be a chick flick. I like action and thrillers too,” Isabella said, trying to pretend his arm wasn’t wrapped around her. “But maybe nothing too horror-related since I do live alone.”

“Got it, so we’ll avoid serial killer themes this late at night.” The selections onscreen were pitiful but when he landed on
Fargo
he stopped. “How about a little Marge Gunderson to lighten the mood?”

“Sure. A lot can happen in the middle of nowhere,” Isabella quipped, repeating the tag line as the credits rolled.

But with sexual attraction hanging in the air, neither one was in the right frame of mind to stay glued to the familiar plot points for long.

Isabella wondered how long she intended to deny herself human contact. She needed someone to touch her, to hold her, to make her feel wanted. Midway through the film, she turned to him, a huge furrowed brow on her face. “Earlier I wanted to kiss you. I wanted you to kiss me. I didn’t mean to tense up like that.”

He ran a long, lean finger down her cheek. “I’m new at taking things slow. Life for me, outside of Jonah, has been a fast ramp up to getting what I wanted.”

“And?”

“It’s just as well because I don’t want to be attracted to you—for a variety of reasons. It isn’t personal.”

“That’s blunt. Okay.”

He shook his head. “I’m a healthy adult male. Something would be seriously wrong with me if I wasn’t attracted to you.”

That statement had her scooting closer. “So you are?”

“If you have to ask, then I must be losing my touch.” Hands still in his lap in a nonthreatening gesture, he leaned in, met her lips with his.

For her, it took a moment for his taste to seep in. When it did, an ember flamed up. This was arousal, pure and wild. It ripped through her like a brush fire igniting the soul. She clung to him, a fierce need pulling, tugging, leading her straight into the searing blaze.

When they finally pulled apart, she wasn’t sure what to do next. But Thane did. With his hand he guided her head to his shoulder, kissed the strands of golden brown hair falling over her eyes. “Relax. We’ll take this slow.”

“But Thane Delacourt isn’t used to taking things slow,” she pointed out.

“Does it look like I’m living the fast life here with a six-year-old?”

“I guess not.”

When Izzy glanced down at her watch, the dial read twelve-fifty-five. She jumped to her feet. “Oh my God, it’s almost one o’clock. I didn’t mean to stay this long. I need to get out of here and let you get some sleep.”

“Isabella?”

“What?”

“I can’t walk you home because I won’t leave Jonah in the house, even for ten minutes alone, even if he’s sleeping. He’s been known to wake up in the middle of the night and come get in bed with me. If I’m not here or he can’t find me…”

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t want you to do that anyway. I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t understand. I don’t want you walking home by yourself in the dark. For one, your head is still not a hundred percent. Two, your knee isn’t either. If you had to run, you’d have a hard time of it.”

“Thane, this is Pelican Pointe. What could happen here?” But even as she said it, her mind drifted to Henry. And Thane saw the expression on her face full of apprehension too.

“How about crashing in the guest room tonight? It’s all ready for when Fischer gets here, clean sheets on the bed and everything.”

“I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not? I’m not going to jump you in the night after you fall asleep.”

She grinned. “I know that. But it’s silly to bunk here when I have a perfectly nice home on the hill.”

“Okay, give me a minute. I’ll go wake up Jonah and carry him with me while I walk you home.”

“That’s a sneaky way to get me to stay and you know it. I won’t let you wake up Jonah just so you can see me home safely. That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s the linebacker mentality. We fight dirty and we’re the most stubborn people you’ll ever want to meet on the planet. If you’ll follow me, Ms. Rialto, I’ll show you to your room for the night.”

“Thane?”

“What?”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I’ll be out of your hair first thing in the morning.”

“What’s your hurry?’

“I don’t want me staying here to confuse Jonah. Then there are the tongues wagging at the coffee shop. News travels fast around here like the speed of light.”

“Bright and early it is then. How do you like your eggs?”

B
irthdays were meant for indulgences. Hers started out like most other festive celebrations were supposed to—a nice dinner out at a five-star restaurant with a few close friends complete with presents—little gag gifts that were both funny and heartfelt.

The wait staff had even sung Happy Birthday to her while holding a slice of sugary cake and rich ice cream topped with a single candle.

The night had held such promise. He’d arranged it all, acted cheery during dinner, almost jovial over his dessert and coffee.

It was the blood and smashed face that came later.

But even during the drive home she’d known he was ramping up into one of his dark mood swings. There were times she marveled at the way he could transform himself from a funny guy one minute into a raging nutcase the next, especially when he consumed alcohol. Sometimes, of course, he managed it without the booze.

“You were all over Allan tonight.”

“No, I wasn’t. Allan was seated next to me at the table. The closest I came to being ‘all over him’ as you suggest was leaning in so that I could hear what he had to say. The music was so loud in there. I merely…”

“Excuses. You always give me excuses. You were the center of attention tonight and wanted him to put his hands on you. I could tell.”

“You know that’s ludicrous. Allan’s wife, Maureen, was sitting on the other side of him within earshot. I’ve known Maureen since we were children.”

The familiar allegation was like an old refrain that refused to go away. He went on and on for miles. There wasn’t enough wine in the city to insulate her from his usual tactics. Tonight she refused to bolster his ego. In fact, she was fed up with all the effort it took to get it done and the trap he invariably set to get a reaction out of her. Well aware of the pitfalls and the consequences of argument, she reached over and simply turned up the volume on the CD player. Vivaldi soared from the speakers filling the car with stormy strings—a shift in moods—a precursor to what was to come.

By this time, he’d pulled into the driveway of their suburban home. As soon as the car came to a stop in the garage, she grabbed her keys and got out of the car. She circled the hood to unlock the door and hurried inside, knowing he was right on her heels.

She tried to move quickly down the hallway but he cornered her in the kitchen.

The slap knocked her back a step. But it was the fist to the face that sent her reeling backward. Off-balance, she tried to run, but he grabbed her hair and dragged her into the bedroom. He spun her down to the bed and crawled on top of her. She turned her head to avoid the next punch—which is why it connected to her cheek and not her eye. She did her best to fight him off, but he got tired of the struggle and pinned her arms down to keep her from the defensive gesture. She kept turning her head back and forth, back and forth to dodge his next blow. But he kept slapping her and anywhere he could reach, refusing to let up. She attempted to roll off the bed but the repeated blows kept coming and coming and coming…

Isabella floated out of the toxic dream in layers, eventually rousing fully awake. The wet sheets were the first indication she was sweating like she’d run a mile in the heat of summer. Her body felt like it had been punched, the bruises fresh.

An unfamiliar room greeted her as she glanced around at the four walls. Then she remembered she’d agreed to sleep in Thane’s guest room. Her eyes landed on the clock radio next to the bed. The time told her she hadn’t been asleep longer than a couple hours. A wave of nausea hit her and had her crawling out from underneath the covers. For one brief moment she had difficulty remembering which direction to go to get to the bathroom. Making a mad dash down the hallway, she reached the toilet just in time to lose the contents of her belly.

Empty now and feeling drained, she draped her arms over the sink, splashed handfuls of cold water on her face. She didn’t even bother with a towel to dry off. Instead, she plopped down on the rim of the tub and patted the beads over her face and neck with a washcloth. Little by little, the nausea subsided. But her throat felt like she’d crossed the Mohave. She ran water into the cup of her hand several times and drank until she began to feel better.

Wide awake now, she plodded back to her room, decided what she needed was fresh air. She made her way outside to the porch where she dropped down onto the steps. Lifting her face to the breeze, she felt the cool air hit her face.

From this spot, she could hear the waves bumping up against the rocks near the pier. All she had to do was turn her head to look up at the massive lighthouse sending out its beam across the bay. The sight reminded her that she should have passed on Thane’s generosity. She should have walked home by herself. If she’d been tucked into her own bed maybe the ugly dream wouldn’t have manifested and intruded on her sleep.

The glimpse of a shadow to her right interrupted her misgivings. She jumped and started to dart back into the house when she recognized the man taking shape several feet away. The moonlight revealed a familiar face.

A shaky sigh escaped her lips. “You really have to stop doing that.”

“Sorry. Are you alright?”

“Sure.”

“Bad dream?”

“What makes you say that?” Before he could answer, she rolled her eyes. “Oh. I forget you’re all-seeing, all-knowing.”

“Hey, it’s four in the morning. You’re sitting here on Thane’s doorstep, which means this time I pretty much figured it out without using my superpowers.”

“Let me ask you something. When you were in combat did you ever face situations that made you feel powerless, vulnerable? Of course I know you were getting shot at, but did you ever see things that…stayed with you long afterward that were impossible to shake?”

“Sure I did.”

“And did that vulnerability ever cause you to have bad dreams?”

“You bet it did. I’d say things happened beyond my control on a routine basis. The inability to deal with the situation is deflating at times. That environment causes recurring nightmares.”

“Then you can identify with how I feel.”

“Did counseling work?”

“To some degree. But having lived through a combat zone, all the talking in the world doesn’t help relieve what I experienced firsthand, doesn’t address the elemental fact it happened for so long.”

Scott nodded. “I get it. You can’t un-see all those times he put the bruises on you. Those memories haunt you but not enough to turn you off men completely.”

“Just one man, the man responsible for hurting me, even when I begged him to stop, he wouldn’t.”

“Thane’s a good man.”

“I know that. I have only to watch him interact with his son to know it. Despite Thane’s career success in the NFL he’s been through a lot with Jonah.”

“Life always presents challenges. Even when Thane was just a boy, I’ve never seen a more talented football player, and yet, he’s had a period in his life when everything crashed down around him. Money’s not an insulator from life’s problems or its difficult times. You of all people should know that.”

She stared at him. “It’s a little spooky realizing you know so much about me. I…I hadn’t counted on you.” From several feet away, she watched a white-toothed grin spread across his face.

“Then I must be doing something right.”

“Did you say it was four in the morning?”

“Almost four-thirty now. Why?”

“I’m wired. I’ll never be able to get back to sleep now. Could you do me a favor?”

“If I can.”

“Will you walk me home?”

“Right now? What about Thane?”

“I wanted to be gone before Jonah got up anyway. I already talked to Thane about it. Is it tacky if I just leave a note now?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll go back inside and write a terrific note reminding him why I had to leave. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

She crept back into the house, did her best not to make any more noise than necessary. On the kitchen counter she found a pad of paper and pen next to the phone. Before she lost her nerve, she quickly jotted down her message.

Thane
,

I left at 4:30. I had to go. I hope you understand why.

Thanks for one of the best nights I’ve had in a really long time.

Isabella