Lane
For the second time in a year, Bess had to call in for coverage at work because of me. I could tell she didn’t like doing it, but she also didn’t love the idea of leaving me either. Which I liked—a whole lot.
I got up the morning after my apology and our sleepless night of reconnecting, tugged on my Prada boots—I know, ridiculous—and let Brooks out. Taking in the country air didn’t provoke the same panic it once had. I was breathing easier now that the truth was out, at least with Bess and Jake.
Having it out with Jake had been my first step, coming clean over how gutted I’d been and hearing him take responsibility was the beginning. Admitting what happened in the past to Bess was another step, one that had me in knots the whole flight and car ride to her. But now that it was over, I didn’t feel the usual anxiety I had in the past over traveling back to the brisk fall weather.
Whistling for Brooks, a new panic set in. I had to leave. I was pretty sure that Bess might have passed my business as a priority, but that didn’t mean I could let everything go to shit. I had meetings scheduled and an office to run. Pulling out my phone, I e-mailed my assistant and asked her to push my schedule by a week.
I wanted to dump the whole damn thing and drop off the face of the earth with Bess, but somehow, I knew that wasn’t an option for either of us.
Walking back into the small house, I smelled coffee brewing.
“Bess, want me to feed Brooks?” I called out.
“Sure! I’ll be right out. I just want to brush my teeth,” she called back.
I definitely want to drop off the face of the earth with her.
I hunted around the kitchen until I found the dog food, then scooped some into the bowl on the floor, filled the other with water, and patted the big dog on the head as he ran by me to his meal.
Then I searched through the cabinets until I found some mugs, and poured us each a steaming cup of coffee and went looking for Bess. I found her standing in her room, staring at herself in the mirror, fingering the heart necklace now around her neck.
After setting the mugs on the dresser in front of her, I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her back into my embrace. Feeling her wiggle her ass up against my semi almost tempted me to take us back to bed. But this wasn’t about making love or fucking or anything more than the way my heart beat in sync with hers.
Sliding my other hand along her collarbone, up her neck, and pushing her hair back, I whispered in her ear. “Looks perfect, but could be a little bigger.”
She bumped her hip back into mine. “No way, it’s already too much.”
“Well, I like seeing it on you, its rightful owner.”
“I don’t think I can even wear this to work,” she said with a frown, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
“About that, I’m sorry you had to get someone to cover for you. I decided I’m going to stay a week now, so maybe you can get a few more days off,” I said with puppy-dog eyes.
She turned in my arms and lifted a hand to my beard. “I like this, by the way. A lot,” she said with a wink.
Leaning forward, I rubbed my face over her cheek, letting the tiny hairs tickle her skin.
Her gaze pinned to my chest, she said softly, “But I can’t miss a whole week of work, Lane.”
“If it’s the money—”
“No, it’s not that.”
“I have more money than I know what to do with, Bess. And if we’re gonna make a go of this, which I assume is where we’re heading, you have to learn to accept things from me,” I said firmly, knowing it was probably not going to win me any brownie points.
But Bess went somewhere I never thought of. She continued to amaze me.
Raising her big brown eyes to meet mine, she said, “Listen, I’m sure I won’t always be comfortable with letting you do so much for me, but work is something more to me. It keeps my mind and hands busy, because too much idle time is bad for me. Work is part of my coping mechanism with my past, and maybe for you too.”
She was wrapped tightly in my arms at this point, and her revelation shook me to the core. Kissing the top of her head, I let my mouth linger before responding. “You may be right. Thank you for explaining how you feel about work to me. I can’t say that I don’t want you to call off work for forever and be with me, but I get it.”
Her stiff posture relaxing somewhat, Bess brought her arms up around my neck and kissed me. We tangled tongues and lips, allowing our actions to speak our feelings.
Breaking free, she said, “I’m going to take a few days off, and then I have to go back. But you can stay however long, for forever if you want. I want as much as I can get of you.”
Without thinking, I said, “I can’t be here for forever,” ruining the moment.
“I know, but a girl can dream,” my girl said, halting any more conversation.
Then we ended up back in bed. For the day.
After a few days of bliss, Bess told me she was going in early the next morning for work, but she would be home around two o’clock. Figuring I could use the time to catch up on e-mails and calls, I begrudgingly told her that would be fine.
When she got home, we spent the afternoon taking a walk in Cooke Forest with Brooks by our side, his tail wagging madly. With every step we took together, holding hands, my fears and anxiety drained further from my bones.
Yes, I still craved my life in Florida. The office, the hours, the job . . . they were indeed my coping mechanisms. But I was facing my demons here in the chilly air with the leaves turning all around me, and began to feel a glimmer of hope that everything might turn out okay for us.
Bess had packed lunch and we stopped for a picnic, sitting on rocks next to a stream bubbling beside us. We warmed our bodies with coffee she’d packed in a thermos, and while rubbing all over each other in a mad kiss on the mountain.
When we got back from our adventure, she told me about work before making dinner. That was when the air changed, and I wasn’t sure why. Bess was busy destroying a salad she was making, taking out some unknown tension on the poor lettuce when I asked, “What’s up,” placing my hands over hers, stilling her jerky movements.
“I just feel like a bad person . . . girlfriend . . . or whatever I am,” she said in a tight voice, jolting my heart.
Bad?
Turning her to face me, I said, “Why would you think that?”
Her eyes wide with emotion, they brimmed with tears until they began to overflow.
“Bess, what the hell?”
“B-because I’m here making dinner after a beautiful day together and I don’t have any beer or wine to offer you.” She sniffed, reaching up a hand to wipe at her nose as she said, “I don’t think it bothered me that you have a cocktail when we’ve been out in the past, but I just don’t think I’m good with keeping any of that around, here in my house.”
At that, her shoulders heaved and she began to wail.
I was at a loss, but did my best to find the right words. “Bess, I don’t need beer or wine. I’m fine. You don’t need to keep any of that stuff for me, and I can clear my house out. This moment is perfect, baby. No substances needed to make it any better.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, sniffing back tears. “I just feel like if this were a real relationship, you’d be having a cocktail while I made dinner.”
“This is a real relationship, Bess.”
“But it—”
I dug deep inside me, thinking fast for a solution. “Bess, I’ve been here for four days, and you haven’t been to a meeting. I don’t know much about all that, but I know you go and it’s important that you do. Maybe you need to do that tonight?”
Averting her eyes, she said, “I didn’t want you to see that part of my life.”
Frustrated, I tipped her chin up so she could see me. “Bess, did you hear me? This is a real relationship. I know we’re both avoiding talking about the geographic difference between where we live, but this is real. I told you the truth about all my secrets, and you accepted me. I want all of you, accept all of you, love every bit of you . . . meetings and all.”
“Are you sure?” she whispered, her eyes red and her lower lip trembling.
I walked over to the oven and flicked it off. “Is there a meeting? Soon?”
She nodded.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing the car keys.