Chapter 6 #2
James’s blood was buzzing at the implications of her words. “What do you mean she was talking to you about the wedding last night?”
“I mean exactly what I said. She was so looking forward to being married to you.” Marta shook her head as if she’d come to some sort of internal conclusion and it had resolved the issue for herself.
“I know it’s going to be hard for you, but you can’t let survivor’s guilt stop you from living your life. ”
James could barely breathe, so many conflicted thoughts were whirling through his mind.
He’d broken up with Genevieve four days ago.
There was no way she could still think that they were engaged.
There was no way she could be confused by that.
He’d told her very clearly in two different conversations.
Which meant she must be doing this on purpose—pretending to other people they were still engaged in order to…
He had no idea what her purpose might be behind it except to somehow manipulate him.
“It’s not survivor’s guilt,” he said curtly. “It’s that the whole relationship was wrong.”
“It wasn’t wrong,” Marta said, reaching out to pat him on the arm as if she understood and sympathized. “You’ll realize that soon enough.”
He made a throaty sound of protest, but it was too late for him to argue. The girls were coming down, dressed in cotton knit dresses, followed by Rose, who was still just wearing a towel and her swimsuit.
“There they are,” Marta said with a smile. “Are you girls ready to go to the movie?”
They both said they were, and then they hugged James good-bye, and the three of them disappeared out the backyard gate where a path led around to the driveway.
James still felt frozen and dumbfounded by what he’d just heard from Marta. He had no idea what to do about it. Genevieve had plotted well. Any objection he made would just be read as his backing out because he felt guilty.
He wanted to curse and shake something but instead he turned his eyes to Rose.
She was gazing up at him, her brows drawn together. “Is something wrong?”
“What do you mean?” His voice still sounded too gravelly, almost rough.
She blinked. “I mean, is something wrong? You look all tense and bristly about something.”
He wondered when she’d gotten to know him so well. He wondered when he’d gotten to know her. Sometime during the past two years, they’d learn to know and understand each other very deeply.
“It’s just…” He trailed off, shaking his head.
“Did something happen with Marta?”
“Nothing important,” he said, finally concluding that it just wouldn’t be appropriate to confide his worries to her. That wasn’t what their relationship was about.
“Well, obviously something happened,” she said, a little tartly.
She took off her towel and went to sit down on one of the chaise lounges.
The sun was still warm, and her suit was now almost dry.
She reached down to pick up her phone from the deck, and then she must have realized that her tone wasn’t entirely respectful, because she added, “But you don’t have to tell me, of course. ”
He sat down on the chaise next to her. Neither of them was stretched out.
They were sitting facing each other. He felt rather muddled and prickly since so much seemed to be happening, and he wasn’t at all in control of any of it.
All the tidy, organized slots in his life were coming hopelessly unraveled. “I’m glad we’re agreed about that.”
“You don’t have to be rude about it.” Rose gave him a cool glare.
“I wasn’t rude.”
Her back straightened up, which unfortunately served to thrust out her breasts, which were already far too tempting in the clinging swimsuit. “You certainly were rude. I’ve worked with you for a long time. You think I don’t know how to recognize when you’re being rude?”
He had no idea what had gotten into her. She’d never been defiant with him like this before.
And he liked it. Quite irrationally, he liked it. It felt more like the real her was coming out at last.
“I think it’s presumptuous to assume you know what I’m thinking, when I’ve told you straight out that I’m not.”
“You’re making the assumption that you always say exactly what you mean. I don’t know anyone who does that.”
His mind was still whirling, but for a different reason now.
He was aware of nothing in the world but Rose, and she seemed to fill his entire consciousness.
Her mouth was set, her cheeks were flush, and her eyes were full of feeling.
Her damp hair tumbled down around her shoulders, and her lush body was like the sweetest temptation.
It was wrong. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t seem to care very much. His body and mind were both pulsing now with how much he wanted her.
“Do you really want me to say exactly what I mean?” he demanded, his voice thick and hoarse.
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea. It can’t be healthy to keep everything always bottled up the way you do.”
“You think I should let it out?” He was leaning forward now, irresistibly drawn.
“What you’ll do and what you should do don’t often seem to be the same thing.”
“So you think I won’t?”
“I know you won’t.” She gave him a little smile. “In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never let out what you really think or feel. You’re not likely to do so now.”
It was like a dare or a challenge, and there was no way James could let it go unanswered. He didn’t want to let it go since she was voicing exactly what he wanted, he needed, he’d never believed he could have.
He leaned forward even more until he could take her face in his hands. Then he kissed her. Hard.