Chapter Two
Halfway to Pat’s Pub, Belinda eased her foot off the gas. There was an exit a quarter mile up the road. She could take the ramp and get back up on the interstate headed home to the quiet of her apartment. Calling herself ten kinds of fool, she kept driving.
Will meant well. The entire group who’d befriended her when she walked into her first day as a professor at her alma mater, meant well. She just wasn’t the birthday party girl. Not anymore.
Hell, she wasn’t a lot of things anymore.
She used to love parties, though, and the small gathering at Pat’s was as close to a party as she’d been to since that night.
As she neared the turn off, she thought again about turning back. It had taken her forty-five minutes to get to the pub, what was another forty-five to get home?
Several blocks from the pub, Belinda pulled into a parking garage and walked into the lobby of a small, boutique hotel. She’d stayed there twice before. Once alone when she’d come up for a reunion with college girlfriends that took place along the boardwalk and everyone wanted to be centrally located, and another time with her husband, Harry.
She tried to tell herself it was the best possible option as it was close to Pat’s. The truth was that it was familiar, filled with good memories and she needed that tonight.
She took the steps to the street after picking up her room key.
Years in public like had taught her not to walk alone, day or night, but night in particular.
If she were honest, years in public life had taught her many things she’d rather forget.
“Stop it,” she muttered. She couldn’t go back in time. She couldn’t change anything. She could only move forward, continuing to put one foot in front of the other.
For early April, it was unseasonably mild out, but the rain had a way of cooling things off. Inside, the pub was warm and raucous. Not that she’d expected any different, especially on a Friday night.
She spotted the small group of friends at a table toward the center of the room. They hadn’t seen her yet and just as she had in the car, thought about backtracking and heading home.
Indecision weighed heavily and she was thrilled when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She stepped back into the shadows by the door and look at the caller ID.
Her heart sped up. Her palms began to sweat.
“Son of a —”
“I wouldn’t finish that statement if I were you.”
“Harry,” she breathed.
“You know the rule.”
She clamped her mouth shut. Yes, she knew the rule. He didn’t like it when she cussed. It was a punishable offense. The taste of soap was not her favorite and if she concentrated hard enough, she could recall the texture against her teeth, the way it made her gag, the foam and lather. It made her shudder.
“You can put the phone back in your pocket now. I just needed a way to keep you from meeting your friends for a few minutes.”
“What are you doing here?”
“It’s your birthday.”
“No, I mean, here. At Pat’s. How did you know?”
“Riley.”
Their daughter. “Such a traitor.”
A smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “She would agree with you.”
“We’re separated.” They were, but they weren’t and Belinda knew that statement wouldn’t hold water.
“Semantics. And not legally. Look at me.”
“Harry…”
“Turn around and look at me, Bella.”
“Please go.”
“No. Would you like to introduce me to your friends?”
“No.”
“Shame. I’ll let that slide for now. Look at me. I won’t say it again.”
Belinda knew better than to disobey him. When his voice took on that lazy Southern drawl. When it was no longer polished and cultivated. When the tone belied the serious undercurrent.
She dropped her phone in her pocket and turned to face her husband.
He looked good and her belly fluttered to life in a way it hadn’t in three hundred a sixty four days.
She’d avoided seeing him on television, in interviews since the scandal. She’d avoided seeing him in newspapers and in magazines. She’d avoided social media like the plague.
But seeing him like this? In person? After all these months?
She’d missed him.
Gray hinted at his temples. Worry lines bracketed his eyes. Frown lines touched at the edges of his lips.
He was handsome as ever, more so than when she first saw him more than twenty years ago.
The words ‘in love’ didn’t even come close to covering it. The feelings, the emotions, the thoughts he caused to riot through her body doing nothing more than standing in front of her should be criminal. Harry Walker stole her breath.
“You cut your hair.”
‘Yes.” He always preferred it longer, at least to her shoulders. Cutting it was both a refreshing act of rebellion and an easier way to maintain the signs of aging as it began to lose its thickness and body.
“I like it.” He said, lifting a hand as though he planned to touch it, but shoved that hand in his pocket, instead.
“What are you doing here?”
“I told you. It’s your birthday.”
“I had one last year, too.”
“Yes. You did. I sent you here to Baltimore, but you went completely off the grid. I had no idea how to find you. Not even our kids knew.”
Belinda fought the guilt that threatened. He was right, but she refused to feel bad about it. She’d needed that private time after their very public humiliation, after he’d sent her away.
“This isn’t the place, Harry.”
“No, it isn’t. Shall we?” He indicated the door back outside.
“Shall we what?”
“Don’t play that way, Bella. It never suited you. You’re much too smart.”
“It’s not a good idea.”
“I’m not interested in good or bad ideas. I’m interested in speaking with my wife.”
“Harry…”
“My name on your lips… Mmm. Still has the same effect on me that it did the very first time you said it. I’ll give you two choices. One… You can leave with me right now and we can have this out sooner rather than later. Two… We can join your friends and have a nice time like we used and put off the issues for a few more hours. Either way, Bella, you’re leaving with me tonight and I will be administering your birthday spankings the way I’ve been doing for twenty four years.”
She looked at him. “Twenty-four?”
His smile was just shy of indulgent. “Yes. Last year you didn’t receive them. That will be remedied.”
“Oh.” She could fight guilt, but she couldn’t fight the heat that crept up her neck or the blush that flooded her face. “Please don’t,” she said softly.
“Oh, pet,” he said just as softly. He leaned in close. “We haven’t even started.” He straightened. “Which choice will you make? One or two?”
The inflection in his tone hadn’t changed from intimate, yet conversational. No one would be the wiser if they were overheard. It was one of his hidden talents. He gave nothing away in his words. It was always in his eyes. His stance remained casual, relaxed. But the gray eyes that occasionally scanned the pub behind her? They told her everything.
He was impatient, but not angry. Curious, but unwilling to push too hard. He’d wait for her decision and accept whatever it turned out to be.
Truth be told, now that he was in front of her, her interest in the small gathering of colleagues had again waned. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate on having fun or on any of them. Her mental focus would be on Harry. Always on Harry.
“I’ll beg off sitting with them, but we’ll stay, grab a booth and talk a bit. That’s all I’m offering.”
His gaze met hers. He didn’t blink, just stared until she fidgeted from one foot to the other. He smiled at the moment.
Damn him.
“I accept.”
Good.”
“For now.”
Always had to have the last word. For some reason, she found comfort in the familiarity.
She nodded, understanding there was no use in arguing.
She took off her coat under his unwavering scrutiny. She didn’t want to care what he thought when he looked at her, but she did. Did he really like her hair shorter? Did he like the minimal make-up? What about the jeans and boots?
She’d lost a little weight in the beginning, but had gained it back along with a bit more as she’d settled into her new, albeit temporary life.
Did he find that appealing, too? He’d never had less than admiration for her curves. Did he still?
How important was any of that to her now? She didn’t want to know.
* * * * *
Harry held his smile in when Bella turned on her chunky boot heels and weaved her way through the crowded bar. He stayed close, at least within touching distance. There wasn’t anyone who was going to get between him and his wife. Not now. Not again.
Not even her.
She looked good. Actually, she looked great. Better than he’d hoped for.
She was a strong woman, his Bella. The love of his life, the one who submitted to him, the one he’d pushed to her limits.
The one he’d pushed away.
She was the one who’d paid the biggest and hardest price for his ego and their pleasure.
He’d packed her up and put her on the plane, out of the spotlight, but she was the one who’d stayed gone, leaving him lost when the dust settled.
He wouldn’t leave Baltimore without her.
She stopped at a table in the center of the room and four pairs of eyes paused on her for a moment before focusing in on him.
He pasted on his best I’m Senator Harry Walker smile as she introduced him to the group who’d gathered to celebrate her birthday.
“I’m sorry,” she was saying. “I didn’t know he was coming up to surprise me.”
“Why doesn’t he join us? There’s plenty of room.”
Harry inclined his head to the man who’d spoken. “Thank you…” He let the words dangle between them, waiting.
“Will. Will Wallace. I teach with Belinda.”
“Will.” It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’d love to join, but after so many months apart, Bella and I would like to share a drink for her birthday. I’m sure you understand.”
Harry didn’t really care if the man named Will understood or not.
“Of course,” Will said.
Harry kept his attention on Will who did the same. They sized one another up and Harry wondered who was going to breath the virtual pissing contest when Bella touched his arm. “There’s a booth in the corner. Why don’t we grab it?”
“After you.”
She glared, but quickly eased around him, offer a small wave to Will, who watched them closely.
He wore a wedding band, Will did, but Harry still placed his own hand at Bella’s back. She belonged to him. No one else. Ever.
Will finally sat and turned back to the table of friends. Harry’s shoulders relaxed and when Bella took a seat in the booth, Harry slid into the seat across from her.
“What can I get you two?” The waitress asked before looking up at them. “Bella? Hi!”
She smiled and leaned close to hug Bella while Harry looked on curiously. He read the name tag the woman wore: Keira.
He liked that his wife had made new friends. She was too fun loving to go without anyone in her life, but he couldn’t help feeling somewhat jealous that she indeed seemed to have created a life of her own without him.
Was it too late? Had he left her tantrum unchecked for too long?
He hadn’t expected her to become a hermit, the way Riley tried to intimate. He hadn’t expected her to wallow in loneliness. He hadn’t expected her to stay gone.
He honestly hadn’t known what to expect when he saw her.
Riley always said her mother was doing well. He thought, in the back of his mind that she’d said that so he wouldn’t worry, but face to face with Bella and a group of people who seemed to genuinely care about her, both elated and saddened him.
These people saw her every day now. Other than pictures sent by their daughter, Harry hadn’t seen Bella in a year. “Sir?”
Harry smiled up at Keira. “Whatever you have on tap is fine. And please, call me Harry. Any friend of Bella’s is a friend of mine.”
“Nice to meet you, Harry.” Her eyes were wary and her smile, while easy and cordial, didn’t appear as genuine as when it was leveled at Bella.
“What did you tell them about me?” he asked when Keira walked away.
“I didn’t.”
Harry felt those words in his chest, as though each letter broke through his skin one corner at a time. “I see.”
“Do you? Will knows only slightly more than anyone else because his office is across from mine. There wasn’t a vacant one in the history department. He heard me arguing with Riley one day and came to check on me after she left.”
“Kind of him.” The words and the way they sounded as they left his mouth didn’t set well with Bella. He flushed under her disapproving glare.
“Yes. It was kind of him. It was the first kind thing anyone had done or said up to that point. The stories were beginning to fade, the whispers were beginning to die down, but the memories of a public figure’s downfall don’t fade as quickly as some others.”
“I know, Bella.”
She sighed and instead of the defiance she’d shown him since he cornered her at the pub’s entrance, he saw her hurt and her sadness. And it was because of him. All of it because of him. “It’s not been easy for you, Harry. I know that. We’re both at fault.”
“Are we?” The laugh was without humor. “No Bella. I’m a big boy. I can and do accept the responsibility. It —”
Keira brought their drinks and Harry bit his tongue to stem the flow of words. Their private life had been made public enough. His trust had been shattered by people he’d put his faith in. And though Bella knew these people here in the pub, he didn’t. He no longer gave first chances. Hell, he no longer gave any chances.
But for Bella, he’d play along.
Sort of…
“Do they know?”
“I just said —”
“Details,” he quickly added. “Us. The truth?”
“Us? Yes. Details? No. I’ve never discussed it. Not our intimate life. Not whether the reports were the truth or fabricated.”
“Good girl.” The words rolled off his tongue without a second thought. It was their dynamic. It was their life. It was what made them work.
“Please don’t call me that.”
“Good. Or girl?”
“Harry…”
He took a drink from the frosted glass he yet to touch until then. Bella hadn’t touched hers, either.
The blush on her cheeks, the shyness that took hold in her eyes, the biting of her lower lip… All signs pointed toward her discomfort as well as her desire.
Did she even realize what she was doing?
For as public as their life had been all the years he’d held political positions, their private life had been guarded and had remained just that… Private. Or so he had thought.
“Just because…” Their current whereabouts frustrated him. “We’re not over, Bella. Not over that.”
“That? That was…” she shook her head. “This isn’t the place.”
“You’re right.” At least they could agree on that. “Let’s go.”
“I didn’t mean —”
“But I did.”
“Harry…”
He leaned across the table, wondered if she saw the change in his demeanor, the ticking in his cheek where his back teeth ground together and his jaw clenched. “I haven’t heard my name from your lips some many times in one night like I have in the last thirty minutes. I like it. I like it so much, Bella. But I’m starting to hate it, too.”
“There are many things I’ve hated.”
He’d always loved her feisty. “When we get somewhere private, you can enlighten me about all the many things.” He dropped a couple of bills on the table, more than enough for two beers and set one foot outside the booth.
She opened her mouth and closed it immediately when he raised one brow.
“Saying yes to you is what got us into this mess,” she said before draining her glass of beer in one long swig that would’ve made any sailor proud.
“Trust in the wrong people got us into this mess.” At least in part. The other part? Yeah, that was all on him.
Surprise flickered through her eyes. “Thank you for admitting that.”
“I never denied it, love.”
“But you never said the words, either.”
He didn’t remind her that she hadn’t made herself available or come back for him to say much of anything. Instead, he slowly nodded. “And you needed them.”
“Yes. I needed you to admit you had a part in everything that happened to us that night.”
He got that. “I’m sorry, Bella.”
She deflated. “I know.”
“You’re still leaving with me.”
“Okay.”
“Now.”
“Okay.” His brow quirked up again. “Yes.”
She was so close. “Say it, Bella.”
“No.”
“Do you still have your collars?”
“Of course.”
“Then say it.”
“H —”
“I swear to God, Belinda Walker, if you say Harry one more time, I will pull you over my knees right here and now.”
“And there’s the other part of this mess.”
“One.”
She sat across from him, visibly torn between defiance and obedience. He didn’t envy her that choice.
“Two.”
Her lips thinned to a flat line and her eyes narrowed. He knew that look oh so well. He also knew without a doubt what it meant. Only, she didn’t waver.
He waited. And waited some more.
She didn’t budge. She didn’t give in. She blatantly challenged him and the dynamic of their relationship.
She hadn’t done that in a very long time.
He couldn’t remember the last time he reached Three. He’d come close. The numerical word on the tip of his tongue, but she hadn’t made him say it.
He was momentarily taken aback. Yes, they were out of sorts. Definitely out of practice. He hadn’t been so naïve as to think he could simply waltz in and all would be forgiven or that she’d drop to her knees at first sight after a year of not. But he had hoped for a warmer reception. He had hoped for a smile, a hug, even. He had hoped to see his wife happy to see her husband. Her dominant. Her Sir.
So far, none of that seemed forthcoming.
“Three.”
Her entire body relaxed seconds later. Under normal circumstances, she knew three meant the cane. She hated that particular implement, almost more than the large stainless steel plug that often accompanied the use of the cane.
He hadn’t brought either with him. Did she know? Had she figured that one out? That she could challenge him and push him and he couldn’t use those things she hated on her to bend her will to his?
She used to know how testing his resolve ended, too.
Hell, he used to know how it ended. He wasn’t so sure now, but he couldn’t let her know how uncertain he was.
“Up. Now. We’re leaving.”
She opened her mouth again, and again, closed it before nodding.
He stood and waited for her to precede him. Her friend Will stood as they began to pass his table.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Harry.”
The two men shook hands once more, the grip less a tug of dominance this time around. “Thank you. Perhaps we’ll meet again soon.” Hopefully, not too soon.
“If you’re still here on Sunday morning, perhaps you’d like to join my wife and I, some friends and family for brunch.”
“Oh, I’m sure Harry —”
“Would love to,” Harry finished for Bella, even though that wasn’t what she had meant to say. The tension in her body was back and he smiled. “We’d love to join you. Thank you.” He might not have much of a political career left, but he could still bullshit with the best of them.
“Excellent. We’ll be next door at Sunday’s.”
“Fantastic. I’m looking forward to it.”
As they walked out of the pub, Harry realized he’d been sincere. He wasn’t sure Bella would be looking forward to it, but he sure was. “So, Sunday’s on Sunday?” he asked her when they were outside.
“Yeah. Keira’s mother’s name.”
“Our waitress? She’s Will’s wife?”
Bella nodded, slipping her coat on. “Her family owns the pub. She doesn’t usually serve, but they must’ve been missing some people tonight.”
Hmm… Harry shrugged. “Okay, then. Sunday’s on Sunday.”