18. Sable
CHAPTER 18
sable
“ I know you don’t want to hear this,” Natasha sat across from me at the bar an hour before opening, “but Alexa’s not going to stop. She’s angry, and she’s using every weapon she has.”
“The bitch,” Hillary muttered. She was sitting on a bar stool next to Natasha.
I leaned against the counter, my arms crossed tightly over my chest. “Why? What did I do to her? I didn’t ruin her marriage.”
Natasha gave me a sad smile. “Doesn’t matter. In her mind, you’re the reason she’s not getting her happy ending. And she’s decided to make you pay for it.”
“The bitch,” Hillary repeated.
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Should I just end it with Heath? Will that stop her or….” I trailed off, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“Hey, you can’t let that bitch dictate your life,” Hillary protested .
“But is all this even worth it?” I mused.
“What do you mean, Sable?” Natasha asked gently.
For some weird reason, Natasha had become my friend, and now she, along with Hillary, were my confidantes. Hillary and Natasha had also become friends. It was the weirdest thing ever.
I looked away, out the window where the summer sun blazed too brightly, mocking my mood. “Every time I try to talk to Heath about this, he brushes me off. Tells me I’m overreacting.”
Hillary reached out and rested her hand on mine. “Well, fuck him.”
“I do regularly, but it isn’t helping,” I joked.
Both Hillary and Natasha laughed.
“He’s being stubborn,” Natasha agreed. “He doesn’t want to believe that Alexa would do something like this or that she even can.”
I couldn’t believe the man was so clueless, but I also understood his desire not to topple the apple cart, as the saying went, because his daughter was involved.
“Alexa is very good at manipulating people, and she has a lot of experience making Heath dance to her tune,” Natasha reminded me.
“How on earth did he manage to get her to agree to a divorce?” Hillary wondered.
“They fought all the time, and finally, it came to a place where Heath couldn’t stay with her,” Natasha informed us. “I don’t think he knows or rather understands how determined Alexa is to get him back.”
“He doesn’t want her.” I flung my arms up in exasperation. “Even if he dumps my ass, he’s not getting back with her. It’s clear as day.”
“To you and me,” Natasha agreed sardonically. “Not to Alexa.”
“I don’t know what to do and how to….” I took a deep breath and stopped speaking. They were here for a drink and chit-chat with me. I wasn’t going to drag them down with shit. “Anyway, moving to happier subjects. Hillary, how was the anniversary dinner?”
That effectively changed the topic, and Hillary launched into how her husband had surprised her with a dinner at Cache Cache, a high-end French restaurant, and a tennis bracelet that was shimmering on her wrist.
By the time Heath showed up at my place late that night, I felt like I’d been wrung out. Hillary and Natasha had helped me forget my problems for a little while with their banter and stories. Still, ultimately, yet another slow evening with hardly any locals at the Wildflower played in the back of my mind like a bad song on repeat.
Alexa wasn’t going to stop. And no matter how much I told myself I could rise above it, I didn’t know how much more I could take—not with Heath brushing it off every time I tried to bring it up.
When I opened the door, Heath greeted me with a smile, but it felt...forced—like he was trying to shake off whatever stresses he’d been carrying all day. I wondered if he was struggling as I was with the backlash of us spending time together—because even though we were not flaunting it—he came by the Wildflower, and people probably saw his Jeep parked in my driveway and my Leaf at his.
“Hey.” I stepped aside to let him in.
“Hey.” He leaned in to kiss my cheek before walking past me into the cozy chaos of my living room.
He glanced around, taking in the books piled on the coffee table, the candles I’d lit earlier in an attempt to create some kind of peace, and the glass of wine I’d abandoned on the kitchen counter.
“Long day?” he asked, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the back of a dining chair.
“You could say that.” I walked up to the kitchen counter and refilled my wine glass.
We stood there for a moment, neither of us saying anything, the air between us heavy with unspoken tension. I didn’t quite know what to do about it. I didn’t have a lot of experience with relationships. Jack had been my first real boyfriend—and with him, I did whatever he wanted, so the tension was minimal. Being a doormat was an excellent way to avoid conflict.
“You want a drink?” I finally asked, breaking the silence.
He shook his head. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”
I grabbed my wine glass, took a slow sip, and walked to the couch. He settled next to me. With his rolled-up sleeves and easy confidence, he looked good. It made me want to crawl into his arms and forget everything else.
I curled my legs underneath me. “How was your day? ”
“Busy.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Dealt with a couple of issues at the resort. Nothing too exciting.”
I swirled the wine in my glass. “Hmm.”
He looked at me then, really looked at me, his brow furrowing. “You okay, babe?”
I hesitated, my grip tightening on the glass. “I think that’s my question. You seem…tense.”
“Bambi, that’s because I feel your tension, which is…. Come here.” He opened his arms, and I set the wine down and snuggled into him.
Oh, but it felt good to be held like this. With Jack, I had to listen to him complain about his day and make him feel better. But this man wanted to be there for me, and it was intoxicating.
“Talk to me, darlin’.”
I wanted to. God, I wanted to unload everything—how scared I was about the business, how angry I was at Alexa, how frustrated I was with him for not seeing how much damage she was doing. But I couldn’t. She was the mother of his child, and I had to be respectful.
“It’s just the Wildflower,” I admitted finally. “Things are slow. Summer is tough.
“Summer’s always slower in Aspen. You’ll bounce back once fall comes around.”
When the colors changed, we got the tourists back, and I was crossing my fingers for that. Ultimately, I needed the locals to come back home. Otherwise, I’d have to sell or walk away, and even the thought made me shiver .
“Hey, it’s all going to work out.” He kissed the side of my head.
I bit the inside of my cheek, holding back the words that I wanted to spill out. He didn’t get it. This wasn’t just a seasonal dip—it was a freefall, and Alexa was the one cutting my safety net.
“I hope so.”
The silence stretched between us again, but it was easy and comfortable this time. He didn’t ask for more, and I didn’t push. I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was soothing, even with everything unsaid hanging between us like clouds caught on a mountain ridge.
“You feel good,” he murmured, running his hand up and down my back.
“I could feel better,” I teased, and he chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest.
“Yeah?”
I crawled away from him, wanting the intimacy, the connection because there we were compatible and gave and took equally. His eyes hooded as he watched me kneel between his legs. He didn’t help me as I unbuckled his belt, unzipped his jeans, and pulled him out, erect, precum glistening on the tip.
He watched me, one hand resting on his thigh, the other stroking my hair.
I licked him, and I felt his groan more than heard it.
I took him in my mouth and moaned around the length of him. He hit the back of my throat almost immediately, and I pulled back, bobbing my head .
“Fuck, yeah,” he said hoarsely. “I look at your mouth, and I get hard thinking about having your lips wrapped around me.”
His dirty talk made me wetter, and I hummed in approval. That made him swell more, and both his hands slid into my hair, starting to control and direct my movements.
“I’m close, babe.”
I let him set the pace as his hands took over. I felt his cock expand before he exploded in my mouth.
“Yeah, babe, swallow it all.”
I did, feeling shy suddenly.
“Open your mouth,” he ordered, “Show me.”
I did. He smiled and stroked his thumb over my lower lip. “You liked sucking me off, Bambi?”
He yanked me up to him and kissed me, tasting himself, and I felt the rightness of being with Heath. I was too old to believe in soulmates and that shit; because I knew better—but if I did, I’d think it was him…well, except for the part where he wasn’t on my side. That thought clouded my mind, but it couldn’t stay there—not while he took me to my bed, undressed me, and settled between my thighs. His fingers stroked across my clit, making me gasp, yearn for more, and press my hips against his hand.
He slipped a finger inside me and then, as if he couldn’t help himself, put his mouth against my core. He began to lick and suckle hard as if he was out of patience.
It felt damn good and all-consuming.
He added a second finger, and my hips began to move in counterpoint to his thrusts. Then, suddenly, he pulled away.
“Heath,” I whimpered.
“I know, babe. I know. I’m going to take care of you.”
He took his clothes off and leaned over my bedside table to find a condom. He sheathed himself and then slowly entered me. He was hard, like he hadn’t just come. In books and movies, men seem to have a constant erection, but I knew in real life, and unless you were a teenager, it took a minute.
“When it’s you and me, Bambi, magic happens,” he answered my unasked question.
Later, as we lay tangled together in my bed, I stared at the ceiling long after he’d fallen asleep.
We could be so much more, I thought. So much more if Alexa wasn’t hell-bent on screwing everything up. But I couldn’t say that to him. I couldn’t even let it show. Heath didn’t respond well to his ex-wife being mentioned because he worried about the impact on his daughter. And as much as I hated it, I understood. In his head, Alexa and Juno were connected. And until he found a way to separate them, we were always going to feel like this—pulled in two directions, caught in a fight I wasn’t sure I could win.
I snuggled into him, holding him close, and even in his sleep, he adjusted, wrapping his arm around me like we’d been doing this for years. I pressed a kiss to his bare chest, the urge to confess my feelings almost overwhelming. I was in love with him—head over heels, in a way I’d never felt before. What I’d felt for Jack paled in comparison to the depth of my feelings for Heath. And yet, we’d only just started, barely more than a heartbeat into this relationship—one already piled high with challenges.
If I’d known that was the last time we’d make love and that everything would change a few days later, I wouldn’t have rushed off in the morning for a meeting at my old bank with the manager to talk about a loan—I would’ve stayed, had breakfast, and made love again.
But you know what they say about hindsight? She’s one clear bitch.