Harry
Harry pressed his cell to his forehead. Had that actually happened? Grace had gutted him in ten seconds flat. And man, had she told the truth. His guilt had made him celebrate Annie’s birthday well after what was healthy. Hell, any birthday party for a dead person probably wasn’t considered sane.
“Annie,” he whispered, alone in his office. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “How did you put up with me all those years?” Admitting the reality was harsh, but denying he was a selfish prick wasn’t worth the energy. The woman had been a saint. Perhaps the stress he put on her caused her silent heart condition? Nope. He wasn’t going to do that to himself.
Harry shut off the light in his office and locked the door behind him. He must have looked grim when he walked past Rudy’s desk in the squad room. The uniformed cop glanced away quickly after they made eye contact, although he nodded before doing so.
He drove his Buick out of the lot and toward home, though he didn’t turn onto the street leading into his neighborhood. There was still a bit of light left and he headed west. A high cyclone fence enclosed the Rolling Hills Memorial Park, however, the iron gates held upright by brick towers welcomed visitors. They stayed open for another hour. Harry wound his way to the back and found his wife’s gravesite. The angel statue that marked her grave stood serenely overlooking the plot. After parking the car, he trekked through the soggy grass, carefully avoiding stepping on the ground above where the vaults lay. He read the plaque imbedded in the ground. “Anna Rae Hunter, Beloved Wife and Mother. May you sing with the angels.” She had loved to sing, yet had been too shy to in public. He’d almost forgotten about that until now. How could he have not remembered that?
He dragged his hands down his face then looked at his palms, they were wet with tears. “Natalie’s pregnant,” he told Annie. He chuckled, partially feeling silly and partially because he had trouble believing it too. “I know what you’re thinking. ‘How could you?’ I’m so s-sorry.” His voice caught.
Kneeling down, he brushed a few leaves off the flat granite headstone. He sniffed back his emotions. “You’ll forever be young and beautiful, you know. Oh God…” Annie had died at forty-three. She barely had any gray hair yet. Often, she was mistaken for being Grace’s sister instead of her mother.
Harry held on tightly to the memory of his wife, terrified she would fade away. Yet he needed to let go before he lost everything. She was gone and he had to face it. He’d come here every day if he had to until the fact sank in.
Lost in his own head, he hadn’t heard the car pull up behind him. The door slamming shut startled him. Reflexively, he went for his gun before spinning around.
“I thought I might find you here.” Natalie’s voice both surprised and soothed him. “I talked to Grace.”
Harry put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Yeah?”
“She yelled at you, huh?”
He nodded.
“Good. Because if you disappointed Brayden, I’m not sure I’d ever speak to you again.”
He forgot how much he admired her bluntness. “Why did you think I’d come here?”
“Because Rudy followed you and called me. He said you didn’t look right when you left the station. He was going home anyway.”
“He’s a great cop. Good instincts.”
She glanced over her shoulder at her car. “Well, I only came to check on you. Make sure you weren’t offing yourself.”
Harry smirked. “No. I’m not offing myself. Not yet, anyway.”
Natalie returned to her car. “Hey, come by and get the keys to my cabin tonight. I don’t need you waking me up in the morning.” She opened her door and started getting in, but stopped when he said her name.
“Nat…?” His eyes watered from the wind. They were strangers all of a sudden, it seemed. He hated the distance he’d created between them. Fixing this wasn’t going to be easy and he wondered if it could be fixed at all.
A crease formed in her forehead when he said nothing more. She stared at him for a bit then got into her car. He didn’t know what to say. Oh, what was he saying? He knew exactly. I love you, Natalie. I love you so damn much.
* * *
Home was a strange concept for Harry right now. Where was his home? And what did it mean? Being at his house seemed foreign to him. Sleeping with Natalie in the bed he had shared with Annie wasn’t working for him, and he imagined not for her either. He wanted to go home. Except he didn’t know where that was currently. Being lost and out of control frightened Harry.
He didn’t leave the cemetery right away. He drove the circuit around all the different sections of graves and passed several mausoleums until it was dark.
The clock on Harry’s dash turned to 10:16 when he pulled into Natalie’s driveway. Her porch light illuminated the front of the house. Most of the neighbors had switched their lights off.
He dug the key to her house out of his center console and went straight for the front door. If she was sleeping he didn’t want to knock. Inside was dark so he shuffled along hoping not to bump into anything, especially the cement legged chair he always—
“Ow. Fuck!” That thing had it out for him. He patted the backrest, hoping that playing nice with it would help next time. If he got a next time. “So we meet again. Nice, nice chair. We’ll talk later about why you hate me so much.”
Thinking only of checking on Natalie, Harry hobbled to her bedroom. In the hallway, he opened a drawer in the little table at the end which was made to resemble a stack of old timey leather suitcases complete with travel visa stickers. He grabbed the keys to her cabin and slid the drawer shut.
Her bedroom door wasn’t closed all the way and when he pushed it open more, she flipped the covers down. The nightlight from the bathroom revealed her wearing a thin nightshirt and even with her lying on her back, she had a slight raised bump in her belly. Hella sexy. “Is it all right if I…?”
“You can come to bed if you want,” she said.
He slipped into the room, shucked his jacket, and dropped it on the floor. Kicking off his shoes, he unbuttoned the first two buttons on his shirt and pulled it over his head. A second later, the shirt joined his coat. Then Harry got rid of his pants and boxers.
Now naked, he approached the bed, hesitating before climbing in. Her silence was her way of giving him permission for sex. His body tightened with needy lust and he breathed hard. He laid out next to her, placing a hand on her lower abdomen. His baby was snug inside there. The thought brought a smile to his face.
“Thanks for checking on me,” he whispered. She didn’t say anything, and he couldn’t stand the quiet. “I’m sor—”
“Shhh…not now.”
They rolled on their sides, facing each other. Harry ran his hand up her thigh, under her shirt. The smooth, soft skin of her hip met his palm and he lingered there, eventually cupping her bottom. Her chin quivered as he kissed her on the lips. Was she crying? And if she was, he’d made that happen.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Please don’t talk. Make love to me, even if you don’t mean it.”
“I always mean it.” His chest constricted. Fear sliced his heart in two. He didn’t want to lose her. Giving her what she wanted right now scared him. What did that say about him? He could take advantage of her vulnerability? Oh, who was he kidding? Harry was at the disadvantage here. She held all the aces. Natalie had his love, his soul, his body, and his baby.
Sitting up, she took her shirt off. In the dim light, he saw her breasts sway and touched them gently as they were likely more sensitive from the pregnancy. She gasped. “Sorry,” he breathed and retracted his hand.
“Don’t stop, I was enjoying that.” She wove her fingers through his and held his hand to her chest.
He played some more and she laid back down. “How are you feeling?”
“Are you still attracted to me?”
“God, yes…feel.” Natalie put her hand where he wanted it. “I hope there’s no question now.”
She giggled under her breath. “I’m going to get fat, you know.”
“Doubtful. And besides…” She kissed him, cutting off his words. “You’re beautiful.” Not wanting to put pressure on her stomach, he knelt between her legs. He rubbed her split thighs, inching toward where he wanted himself. Resting on his hands, he loomed over her.
“Be careful…”
“I won’t put my full weight on you. I’ve done this before, remember?” He cringed after the words left his mouth. Christ, how dumb was he? “Sor—”
“Good, because I can’t stand anything touching my stomach.”
“Maybe it’s better you turn around,” he said, sitting up on his heels. She rolled over and rose to her hands and knees. He pulled her up until her back was to his front, and kissed her neck, caressed her breasts.
“So, um, are we ever going to do this?” she teased.
“You told me to make love to you, right?”
“Yeah, but I’m a knocked-up horny person.”
They both laughed, although he wondered if this reprieve from their estrangement was merely about the sex for her. “Yes, ma’am. Let’s not keep you waiting any longer.”
She eased back to her hands. Harry’s legs went jelly on him for a moment when he brought them together, as if his insides melted. He froze, his body oversensitive. Too stimulated.
“Is something the matter?” Natalie asked. Her voice carried a hint of insecurity with it.
Harry blew out a steadying breath. “No…I need you to be still for a sec though.”
“Like this?” She wiggled her butt.
“Not…like that,” he eked, clutching her hips. Pulling back, he exhaled slowly. “You’re so sexy.” Harry finally got his excitement under control and made love to his girlfriend. The entire time he concentrated on the feel of her. The noises she made. He refused to believe they were having break-up sex, even though he feared the truth. She was through with him. Over his late nights working and moodiness from the stress of his latest case. Every case. He’d been such a prick, who could blame her? Maybe he should buy her a new house, one where they would each get a start fresh without the memories of Annie and her ex-husband lingering in the air. Or maybe he should demand the department hire another detective to take on some of the case load, a partner he’d be able to rely on when he needed time off.
“Mmmm, thank you,” Natalie moaned after they’d finished.
Lying next to her, he panted, “You’re welcome.” What a shitty thing for him to say after sex, even if he’d only replied to what she’d said. He squeezed her hand. “I mean, yeah, that was great.”
Harry got up and went into the bathroom. He turned on the faucet and splashed cool water on his face.
Natalie knocked on the door. “I gotta use the bathroom.”
“I’ll be out in a sec.”
She was standing right behind the door when he opened it. They traded places, then he got into bed. He wasn’t leaving unless she made him.
Natalie returned to the bed, climbing in without a sound except the rasping of the sheets. She pulled the covers up to her neck and faced the wall. Not liking how far away she seemed, Harry positioned himself for spooning. When she didn’t object to him being so close, he draped an arm over her waist.