I had to think about that. Duane was quiet and steady, but I knew finding out Bethany wasn’t his birth mother would hit him hard.
“What are you worried about?”
“That he’ll take it hard.”
“Do you think he’ll recover from the news? Eventually?”
“Yes. But my job is to protect him.”
“Your job is to protect him from the truth?”
“When the truth serves no purpose other than to cause misery, then, yes.”
“How do you know it serves no purpose? If you tell him the truth, he gains a sister.”
She had me there.
“What’s the worst-case scenario if you don’t tell him?”
“He’ll find out anyway and be pissed at me for not telling him the truth. He’ll run off with Jess and never speak to me again.” Even as I said the words, I realized my fears were extremely unlikely.
“Wait a minute, why did Christine only tell you? Why not tell both of you?”
“No idea, other than she wants something and thinks I’m the one who can get it.”
Shelly was quiet, but I could almost hear her thinking.
Abruptly, she asked, “Isn’t Jess’s father a police officer?”
“He’s the sheriff.”
“Maybe she didn’t tell Duane because she doesn’t want the sheriff to know?”
“About what? About Duane and me being hers?”
“No. You said she wants something from you. Maybe she only told you, and not Duane, because she doesn’t want the sheriff to know what that thing is.”
“Huh.”
Shelly’s theory had merit.
We were both quiet for a long time after that. So long, Ivan and Laika showed up and whined at the edge of the bed.
“They need to go out.” Shelly lifted herself from my chest, her voice gravelly. “And I need to go to the bathroom.”
I glanced out the window. The sun had gone down hours ago. Our usual blanket of stars was somewhat diminished by the full moon.
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
“What was that?”
I blinked at Shelly’s question. She was standing at her side of the bed, pulling on a sweater.
“Pardon?”
“What did you just say? About stars?”
“Oh,” I shook my head, “I hadn’t realized I’d spoken aloud.”
“What was it?”
“Just a poem I read.”
“You read poetry?”
I had to chuckle at her expression, like she was both surprised and pleased.
Standing, I stretched my arms and back, giving her a grin. “Don’t get your hopes up. It was just this last weekend. I looked through one of my momma’s books and found a page earmarked.”
“What was the poem?”
“Uh, something like ‘The More Loving One.’”
“I’ve tried to read poetry. But it never sat well with me. It’s like, I couldn’t process it without making myself upset.”
“When’s the last time you tried?”
“Years ago, in college.”
I walked around the bed, looking for my shoes. “You want me to bring the book over? We could try again.”
Slipping on her boots, her gaze grew thoughtful. “Yes, I do. I would like that very much. Thank you.”
“No, thank you.”
“For what?”
Finished with my shoes, I turned to face her. “Listening.” For making me a priority.
“Anytime. I mean it, anytime.” She nodded subtly, her eyes dropping to my chest for a beat, then back to mine. “Stay.”
“I will.” I grinned, slowly making my way to her. “But I might shower first.”
“I might join you.” She tipped her head back as I approached.
“Oh, in that case,” I slipped my hands into place on her waist, tugging her to me and kissing her neck, “I’m definitely showering first.”
* * *
Shelly discovered she liked shower sex a lot. So after we got hot and steamy that night, she woke me up after her run the next morning to do it all over again.
I didn’t know if it was the feel of the water on her skin, or the feel of our bodies sliding along each other’s, slippery and wet. I honestly didn’t care. Her hooking a leg over my shoulder while she stood against the wall and I ate her out; looking up to see droplets holding on to the tips of her nipples, rolling down between her breasts, over her stomach and hips; the sounds she made both before and while she came, like she felt freer to make them when paired with the noise of running water—Shelly made getting clean while being dirty a whole lot of fun.
But she also gave me a hickey.
I hadn’t noticed until after we were out of the shower and I was drying off. My initial instinct was irritation—not that she’d given it to me, rather that it existed and I might have to explain it—but then I decided I liked it.
“I have to sleep at my house tonight.” I broke the news while she drank her tea and I gulped down a cup of coffee. “But I can come over for a little, right after work. The rest of this week is going to be crazy. We have Jethro’s bachelor party on Thursday, the rehearsal on Friday, and then the wedding on Saturday.”
“Okay.” She nodded, and then added, “I’ll miss you.”
That earned her a kiss and a smile. “I’ll miss you, too. You know, you’re welcome to come over anytime this week.”
The auto shop would be closed from Wednesday—tomorrow—and wouldn’t reopen until Monday. I wasn’t worried about her being by herself, but I did want her to know she was welcome at my house as well.
“I’m using the days off to work on the statues and sketch a new commission.” Her gaze moved over my face. “Have you talked to Cletus about us yet?”
I shook my head, sighing. “No. But I should.”
“Do you want me to be there? When you tell him?”
“Nah. That’s not necessary. Like I said, he’s tripping all over himself, getting in his own way with Jennifer. I’ll just have to sort him out.”
Yes, the time had come for me to challenge Cletus about his blindness. Besides, I had a suspicion that forcing Cletus to confront the error of his ways would be fun.
30
“I think . . . if it is true that
there are as many minds as there
are heads, then there are as many
kinds of love as there are hearts.”
― Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina
* * *
*Beau*
The conversation about Cletus and Jennifer was not at all fun.
Long story short, I came home late Tuesday night and Cletus was sitting in Grandma Oliver’s old chair, wearing his smoking jacket. Now, my brother didn’t smoke, but whenever he wore his smoking jacket, he was irritating as hell. Naturally, I tried to avoid him.
He said something superior, as though he’d known all along what was going on with me and Shelly over the last few months—which he did not—and then acted like I had his blessing.
So I turned to him, prepared to give this horse’s ass a piece of my mind. I was going to tell him how he needed to mind his own business and set to making things right between himself and Jennifer Sylvester.
That’s when the curtain lifted and the shitshow started.
Jennifer Sylvester arrived all of a sudden, looking a fright. Billy got involved. Cletus lost his mind. It was a disaster.
However, that’s a different story for a different day and it would definitely read like a novel.