Josie sat on the sofa and listened to the sound of the door closing behind Del. She was glad he’d seen himself out because she wasn’t in any shape to stand or walk or even pretend at social niceties. Her mind was racing, and there was a knot in her stomach the size of Montana. She felt hot and cold and mostly she felt sick.
Humiliation filled her. Sticky, thick humiliation. She wanted to run and hide. She wanted to turn back time and never have come back to Beachside Bay. She wanted to throw something, anything just to relieve the tension building inside of her.
She lifted her hand as if to do that, only to realize there wasn’t anything worth throwing. The unused paper plates on the small, folding table in front of the sofa wouldn’t be very satisfying. And if she let the Chinese food rip across the room, she would only have to clean it up later.
“Damn,” she whispered and covered her face with her hands, wishing for once that she was the crying kind. Maybe tears would help. But she couldn’t force them. No matter how she strained, her eyes remained dry. She’d never been one for sob fests.
Everything hurt. Her body, her heart and especially her soul. She felt battered all the way down to her bones. How could Del have said all those things about her? Worse, how could he have thought them? Did he really think she was so blindly selfish? That she wouldn’t compromise? That she’d cared more about winning than their marriage?
He’d compared her to Aaron. The memory made her shiver. She hated anyone thinking she was like her father, even if it was true. She made a low sound in her throat and hugged her arms to her chest. That’s what hurt the most, she realized. That it was all true.
She squeezed her eyes more tightly closed. She’d been a bad wife and partner. There was no way to sugar coat reality. As much as Del’s assessment ripped her apart inside, she couldn’t say he was lying. She hadn’t wanted to be horrible. She’d wanted to be gentle and kind and loving. She just hadn’t known how.
Josie shifted until she curled up in a corner of the sofa. Memories from the past washed over her. She let them come, watching them like some strange, twisted movie of which she was the star. She wanted to turn away-to hide from the truth-but the past year had taught her there was no way to do that. If she didn’t feel it all now, she would feel it all later. There was the possibility of postponement, but there was never any escape. The event, be it a therapy session or a recounting of her past, had to be endured in order for her to be healed.
Things had gone wrong from the beginning, she thought sadly. Del had been right when he’d said he wanted June Cleaver for a wife. She’d been stunned when he’d told her he expected her to do all the cooking and cleaning and to take care of him the way his mother had. She’d proudly announced that she wasn’t anyone’s slave and if there was going to be service provided in their house it would be to her. She’d been horrified by his insistence, and he’d been stunned by her refusal. They’d argued for days. Eventually Del had come to her with a compromise.
Josie opened her eyes and stared unseeingly at the empty room. Tonight Del had claimed that she had needed to be right, regardless of the cost to the marriage. That she hadn’t been willing to bend or admit they could both be wrong. She wanted to protest that statement, to tell him that she had met him halfway. That many times she’d been the one to come up with a better way for them to do things or to get along. Except she hadn’t. Not even once. She’d wanted everything to go her way.
She recalled how Del had carefully divided the chores between them. With the hindsight of years and maturity she recognized for the first time that for a man like Del-raised by a woman who had catered to his every need-offering to take over half the household chores was a big step. She saw now how he’d really listened to her complaints and had realized that he was being unreasonable. She’d resisted his division and had refused to do her share unless they were doing the work together. She’d been so worried about not doing one lick more than was necessary.
Tonight he’d accused her of being unreasonable. Of needing to win every fight. It wasn’t enough for them both to have been wrong-she had to be right. She winced as she remembered screaming at him, slamming doors and walking out. Just like her father.
How she hated the comparison to Aaron. Yet she knew that his stubbornness, his strength that he’d passed on to her, were the reasons for her determination and victory in her recovery. She wouldn’t have survived the past year without being so tough and unyielding. But what had served her well after the accident had been the downfall of her marriage.
I have a lot of regrets from that time in my life, but being divorced from Josie isn’t one of them.
His words echoed inside her brain. She’d come back for closure. She’d come back for some kind of connection with Del and maybe to find a piece of her whole self to blend with the broken person she’d become. Yet he wasn’t interested in anything like that. He’d put her behind him and had no intention of turning around for a second look. She’d been thinking they could have made it if only she’d been different. He’d been thinking he’d made a lucky escape.
She wasn’t sure what to do with all this information. She felt small and ugly-as if she wasn’t the kind of person anyone would want to be around. She wished she’d never bought the Miller house and was sorry she was going to have to see Del again. Josie wanted to run away. But she wouldn’t. Although she hated the pain, she would endure it. She would see this situation through to wherever it ended, and then she would move on to the next chapter of her life. Because she wasn’t a quitter.
Josie bent over and collected her cane, then rose to her feet. She wanted to stick the leftover Chinese food in the tiny refrigerator and then head up to bed. Maybe she would feel less disgusted with herself in the morning.
As she reached for the bag of food, the room seemed to tilt and swirl. Walls shifted, furniture moved until she was back in time…standing in the house she and Del had bought the second year of their marriage. She could see him walking through the door, a bag of Chinese food in his hand. They’d been fighting a lot lately and he’d suggested takeout as a way of making peace. She’d been out running and had been home long enough to shower, but not dress.
He’d taken one look at her wrapped in a towel and nothing else. A light had flared to life in his dark eyes. A heated flame she recognized. Instantly there was an answering blaze in her own body. Despite all their problems, they’d always found a way to connect on a very physical level.
“Take it off,” Del had growled at her.
For once she didn’t mind taking orders from him. Slowly, almost defiantly, she’d pulled the tucked end free and let the length of terry cloth fall to the ground. Slowly, proudly, she sauntered toward him, holding his gaze with her own, stopping only when she was within grabbing distance.
He hadn’t disappointed her. He’d dropped their dinner without a second thought and had reached for her. Within seconds she was hauled up against him, their mouths crushed together, their bodies straining. He’d been instantly aroused, as had she. While he’d teased her breasts and nipples until she’d been mad with desire, she’d managed to open his belt and unzip his jeans.
He turned so that she was pressed against the door. He grasped her bare rear with his hands and pulled her up to his waist. She wrapped her legs around his body to hold herself secure. He’d fumbled with his clothing, pushing down his jeans and briefs, then guiding himself into her. She’d been wet to his hard-ness, throbbing with need, begging him to take her.
They’d made love there, against the door. Wildly, impulsively. Kissing, biting, straining until she went first, leaping into the vortex of release, her strong, fast contractions pulling him over the edge as well.
Josie straightened and leaned on her cane. The memory receded, but the sensations of that night did not. She could still feel the cool of the wooden door on her bare back and Del’s heat as he’d filled her. Desire made her ache in a way different from her constant pain. She forced herself to pick up the leftovers and take them to the kitchen. Once there she put them away and then headed for the stairs.
As she gazed up at what seemed like a man-made mountain she would have to climb, a sense of hopelessness settled over her. Del would never be interested in her that way. Not sexually. She’d been kidding herself about seeing any kind of interest in his eyes. But even if her greatest fantasy came true and he did find her appealing, what could she do about it? Her body was broken. While she was in the process of recovering, she would never be the same. She would never have the strength or flexibility she’d had before. She couldn’t make love against a door. The hot, animal sex that was so a part of their marriage was lost to her forever. She would have to worry about being careful, of supporting healing body parts and weak areas. She would be so different.
Josie began to climb the stairs. With each step she reminded herself that pity was a one-way street to disaster. She was determined to keep on healing, to get better. But the memories were especially heavy tonight, as was the realization nothing would ever be the same for her again. Not with her body and not with her relationship with Del.
“Come on. You can get him out easy. He’s a wimp.”
Del clapped his hands as he yelled his opinion across the softball diamond. From his position on first base, he could see the “wimp” in question glaring at him.
Jason Newman, six feet five inches and well over 230 pounds of pure muscle pointed his bat at Del. “I’m taking you out, boy. Feet first. I’m gonna break your knees.”
“You and what army? You bat like a girl. You’re not going anywhere.”
Jason’s response was a growl of outrage. Del chuckled as he positioned himself to catch the easy out. Jason might play professional football, but he was lousy at softball. He was good for either a ground or fly out.
But even as the large man prepared to smack the ball toward first base, Del found his attention wandering. Not to the game, where it belonged, but to a blue-eyed woman with long wavy hair. He hadn’t been able to forget Rose since he’d left her the previous night.
He told himself it was because she hadn’t been feeling well and he was concerned about her being ill and alone in the house. Which was a big, fat lie. While he was concerned about her health he found himself thinking things that had nothing to do with healing and everything to do with making them both hot, sweaty and content.
She was sexy, smart and tempting as hell. Okay, she said she didn’t cook, but he’d compromised over that one before. As Josie had taught him-that was why they had takeout.
Jason swung and hit the ball. It soared directly toward Del, who caught it easily.
“Third out,” the pitcher yelled, motioning for the team to come off the field. Jason shook his head in disgust.
Del laughed as he jogged toward the bench. He’d scored in the last inning so he wasn’t going to be up to bat anytime soon. He set his glove on the bench and went to get a bottle of water from the cooler by the chain link fence. As he pulled off the plastic wrap, a familiar movement caught his attention.
He turned away from the diamond and saw someone on the walking path that circled the entire park. The T-shirt and sweats weren’t familiar, but he would recognize that blond hair, not to mention the cane and halting walk, anywhere.
Without stopping to think if it was a good idea or not, Del jogged toward her. He saw the exact moment Rose recognized him. She slowed to a halt and seemed to tense slightly. As if she wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to him.
Del slowed as well. Instantly he thought of all the stupid things he’d said the night before. How he talked too much about his ex-wife. Talking about any woman while in the presence of another counted as extremely dumb by any measure.
But he kept moving toward her because he really wanted to talk to her. He’d thought he would have to wait until Monday to make an excuse to go over to the house. Last night she’d seemed as if she might be really sick, and he hadn’t wanted to intrude if she needed the weekend to rest.
“How are you feeling?” he asked when he was within speaking distance. “Better this morning?”
She wore her hair back in a ponytail. Perspiration stained the neck of her white T-shirt and dotted her upper lips. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked as if she’d been pushing herself physically.
“I’m fine,” she said, giving him a smile that didn’t seem to reach her eyes. “I had a good night’s sleep, so I decided to get a little exercise.” She motioned to her left leg. “I’m supposed to be in physical therapy several times a week and I’ve been neglecting that since I moved here. I have to be careful to make sure I don’t lose ground.”
“You don’t look as if you’re having much fun.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’ll admit it’s work, but that doesn’t mean I can avoid it forever. What about you?” She glanced at his casual shorts and T-shirt. “Out jogging?”
“No. I’m playing softball.” He pointed to the game in progress on the diamond. “My team’s batting, but I won’t be up this inning.”
Confusion darkened her blue eyes. “But you don’t like organized sports.”
Her statement surprised him. “Who told you that?”
She took a step back and shrugged. “I mean, I didn’t hear it from anyone. I just thought…” Her voice trailed off. “How long have you been playing?”
“A couple of years.” He took a drink from his water bottle. “I’d been thinking about getting more physically active for a while. I jogged for a bit, but it was too boring, and I’m not really the go-to-the-gym type. So I tried team sports. I found I enjoy them a lot.”
Rose had an odd expression on her face. As if she wasn’t sure she believed him. “It’s always nice to get out,” she murmured.
“I agree.” He glanced over his shoulder and saw his team was still at bat, then returned his attention to her. “Want to come watch? Afterward we all go out for pizza. You’d be welcome to come along.”
Rose swallowed and took another step away from him. “That’s really nice, but I can’t. I don’t know any of your friends and I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“You wouldn’t be an intrusion. You’d like everyone. I promise.” He made an X over his heart.
She shook her head. “It would be too awkward. I’m not dressed and I still feel kind of strange going out into the world.”
He stared at her. “Why?”
“Because of how I look.”
He peered at her face. “Because you’re not wearing makeup? It’s Saturday. Don’t women get a day off from that stuff?”
The tension left her body, leaving her relaxed. She laughed. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“Not for a second. Want to explain it to me? Is this a chick thing?”
“No. It’s a cane thing.”
He glanced at her leg, then at the cane. “You mean because you need one to help you walk? Why would anyone care about that?”
She smiled a perfect smile. One that said he’d conquered the world for her and made him want to kiss her. But he wasn’t going to. He didn’t want their first kiss to be fast, impersonal and in public. Which meant he was in more trouble than he’d realized.
“I appreciate that my disability is no big deal to you,” she said, “but it matters to other people. I’m not comfortable being stared at. But thanks for the invitation.”
Before he could say anything else, he heard his name. He turned and saw his teammates waving him back into the game.
“Looks like you’re needed,” she said. “Good luck. I hope you win.”
“Thanks. See you on Monday.”
“Sure. Bye.”
He turned and ran toward the diamond, all the while swearing under his breath. He should have asked her out. That’s what he wanted. Client or no client, he wanted to spend time with Rose. He wanted to get to know everything about her. He wanted to be in the same room with her while they read or watched a movie. He wanted to kiss her and touch her and-
He turned back to wave, but she was already gone. The place where she’d stood on the path was empty. He wished she’d stayed to at least watch the game.
“Who was that?” Jason called as Del set down his water bottle and grabbed his mitt.
“A friend.”
“Uh-huh. What about Jasmine?”
Del didn’t reply. Jasmine was his on-again, off-again girlfriend. They were currently in off-again mode. He hadn’t thought about her for days. A while back he’d been thinking of calling her, but things had changed in the relationship. He shook his head. No point in lying to himself. Nothing had changed. Instead he’d become distracted by a very attractive woman. Someone he couldn’t wait to see again. If only he could think of an excuse to drop by her place tomorrow.
Del’s crew showed up promptly at eight on Monday morning. Josie was grateful to let them in. Except for her brief encounter with Del in the park on Saturday, she hadn’t spoken to anyone all weekend. She was tired of her own company.
She greeted the guys and ushered them into the main room where she’d already brewed a pot of coffee.
“You don’t have to do this, ma’am,” Jerry said as he filled a mug. “But we sure appreciate it.”
She smiled. “It’s not as if I have to spend my morning cleaning house or cooking.” She motioned to the gutted kitchen. “It’s my pleasure. Oh, and please call me Rose.”
Jerry nodded his agreement. The other men poured themselves coffee, then they went to various parts of the house to get to work. Josie watched them go. She wondered if Jerry would have been as pleasant if he’d known who she really was. She remembered overhearing him talking with one of the other guys. She’d been at a construction sight, fighting with Del. Jerry had said that while she had a great butt and was probably dynamite in bed, her personality was such that he would rather try taming a wounded polar bear.
Josie leaned against her cane and admitted to herself that Jerry’s assessment had been right on the money. Since arriving back in Beachside Bay she’d been getting all kinds of information about herself that she hadn’t expected. Ironically she’d returned for closure but instead she was getting a life lesson in eating crow. While she didn’t especially like it, it might be just what she needed.
And there were one or two bright spots. She thought Del might like her a little. While she didn’t think he was interested in more than being friends or possibly a mild flirtation, it was nice to know that her altered appearance hadn’t sent him screaming from the room. She still found the concept of him with another woman disquieting, but she was willing to let that go as long as the other woman was her.
The thought made her smile. The other piece of good and interesting news was that Del had taken up softball. During their three years of marriage she’d been on his case constantly, trying to get him to participate in some form of exercise. He’d resisted and yet now he was on a team. She knew that was from her influence. At least she hadn’t been completely horrible-there had been one or two good things in their marriage.
She walked over to the coffee maker to start a second pot. As she moved, the pain in her left leg shot up into her hip and back. She was sore from her walk on Saturday-her own fault. She hadn’t been keeping up with her exercises or her physical therapy. If she didn’t start soon, she was going to pay a price. Unfortunately she wasn’t motivated at the moment. She’d worked so hard and so long and it still was not where she wanted to be. Occasionally-like now-frustration overwhelmed her good sense.
“Get over it,” she said aloud, knowing she didn’t have time for self-pity. She had a life to rebuild. After she made the coffee, she would go upstairs and start a list. She didn’t know what for, but list-making always improved her mood.
As she poured water into the pot, using the gallon of bottled water she’d bought, the front door opened. She heard several voices. Most of them were low and masculine but one was shrill, demanding and crabby. Josie set the pot down and turned toward the sound.
Three good-looking burly construction workers walked into the main room followed by a tiny, redheaded woman in her sixties. She glanced around at the main room, then focused on the kitchen.
“It’s all a mess,” the woman announced planting her hands on her hips. She wore denim coveralls and a long-sleeved red T-shirt that clashed with her bright-red hair.
“Once again I’m going to have to fix everyone’s mistakes.” She turned to the three gorgeous twenty-something males hovering beside her. “You fellows plan on posing for a calendar or did you want to do some work?”
The three hunks jumped to attention at her question.
Josie couldn’t keep herself from grinning. If she’d been able to run, she would have thrown herself into the older woman’s strong arms and stayed there forever. Annie May wasn’t just a master plumber and a force to be reckoned with, she was the closest thing to a grandmother Josie had ever had. Leaving her when Josie had left Beachside Bay had been nearly as difficult as leaving Del.
Josie took a single step toward her, then paused. She had a disguise to think of.
“You must be Rose,” the older woman said, walking over and holding out her hand. “You know what you’re getting into buying this place?”
Josie relished the familiar strength as Annie May shook her hand and then stepped back. “It’s too late now,” she said. “I’m the proud owner and, as you can see, the construction has already started.”
Josie held her breath as Annie May gave her the once-over, starting at her feet and working her way to the top of her head. There wasn’t even a flicker of recognition. Josie felt both relieved and sad. She would have liked a friend to confide in, but she wasn’t ready to come clean with Del. After their conversation here Friday night-when he’d told her exactly what he thought of her-she was hardly in a position to reveal her past.
Annie May tilted her head slightly and motioned to her cane. “A man do that to you?”
At first Josie didn’t understand. Then she got it. “No, I wasn’t beat up. I was hit by a truck.”
“It looks bad. The good news is you lived to talk about it. You’re upright and except for buying this old place, I’m guessing you’re smart enough. So you were lucky.”
Josie wanted to protest. She felt anything but lucky. Yet in her own outspoken fashion, Annie May had zeroed in on the truth. Josie could have died in the accident. She could have lost her leg completely or be left paralyzed or facially disfigured. In the scheme of things, she’d actually gotten off pretty light.
Annie May glanced at her three helpers. “Bring in the supplies. We’re going to start with the kitchen today.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison and left the room.
“Pretty, but not the brightest bulbs in the chandelier,” Annie May said as the men walked out of the house. “Still, hiring the good-looking ones is one of the few compensations of my old age. Del accuses me of being a sexist pig, and he’s right.” She grinned. “So, let’s talk about your kitchen. I’ve seen the plans. They’re not too bad. I’d suggest a couple of changes, though. Seeing we’re going to be running pipes anyway, why not put a deep sink in the island?”
She walked to the diagram pinned to the wall and pointed. “There’s plenty of room and it would give you a second work station. Wouldn’t cost very much. If you keep the house, you’ll find it handy. If you sell, the buyers will appreciate it.”
She walked back to the kitchen and shared a couple of other ideas. Josie listened, torn between appreciating her suggestions and wishing she could talk to Annie May. After all that had happened, she really needed a friend.
The hunks returned, and Annie May set them to work, measuring the kitchen and marking where the pipes would run. When they were busy, Annie May motioned to the parlor.
“Let’s go in there. I want to show you something.”
Josie followed her, wondering if the older woman was going to suggest a wet bar. Josie didn’t think it would fit with the house. But what other plumbing issue could there be in the front room?
Annie May waited until Josie had stepped into the empty room, then she closed the French door, cutting off the construction sounds from the rest of the house. She turned to Josie, planted her hands on her hips again and spoke.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Josie Scott? Frankly this is a piss-poor excuse for a disguise. You really think you’re fooling anyone?”