Some Kind of Wonderful Page 11

  “Something wrong, agape mou?” Spy’s voice was smooth and deep and carried through the house.

  Knowing that Zach was listening, Brittany felt tension ripple through her. “No, everything is fine, but I need to go. Speak to you soon, Spy.” She ended the call, turned and met Zach’s gaze. “Well? What did you want to talk about?

  “Boyfriend?”

  “Work colleague, although it’s no business of yours what our relationship is. You lost the right to question me on my love life the day you walked out and left a note on the pillow.” She snapped out the words before she could stop herself and then clenched her teeth together.

  Damn, damn and double damn.

  He didn’t move. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Are you apologizing for leaving me?”

  “No.” His gaze held hers, dark and hypnotic. “I’m apologizing for the way I did it. I should have done it face-to-face.”

  So he didn’t regret leaving her.

  She was right back there, eighteen years old and bathed in humiliation. “Good to have cleared that up. Is that all you came to say? Because I’m busy.”

  “I didn’t come to say that. I came because I thought you might need help.”

  “Why would I need your help?”

  “You’ve injured your right wrist. You’re struggling.”

  “Excuse me? I’m doing just fine and even if I wasn’t—” she gaped at him, confused and exasperated “—am I supposed to believe you’ve suddenly morphed into this caring, sharing guy?”

  A muscle flickered in his jaw. “I’m offering to help you.”

  She breathed deeply, wishing she’d paid more attention at her meditation class in college. “Goodbye, Zach. Close the door on your way out. And don’t knock on it again. Or enter my house through any other means.” Only with him would she have needed to add that qualifier. Maybe she’d get that lock he’d suggested. If only to keep him on the other side of her door.

  “Your next hospital appointment is Tuesday?” He eyed the letter she’d left on the counter and she snatched it up.

  “That is none of your business.”

  “I’ll fly you there.”

  She blinked. Her ex-husband was offering to take her to the hospital for them to check her broken wrist? As far as she could see that turned a crappy trip into a double-crappy trip.

  “I can’t afford your services. Or do jilted wives get a special rate?”

  He held her gaze and when he spoke his voice was devoid of emotion. “There’s no charge.”

  “No, thanks.” Flustered, she jabbed her fingers into her hair. “Look, you said you wanted to talk, so go ahead and say what you want to say and then leave.”

  “Not me. You.”

  Confused, she stared at him. “I don’t need to talk.”

  “Are you sure? Because I don’t see water flowing under that bridge.”

  Heat spread across her skin and misery seeped into her bones. “Believe it or not I know when I want to have a conversation. I don’t. So you can just—”

  “You never used to bottle things up. You used to come right out and say whatever was on your mind. It was one of the things I liked about you.”

  The breath left her lungs in a whoosh.

  He’d never said he’d liked anything about her. He’d never complimented her or used smooth words.

  At the time she’d told herself it didn’t matter that he wasn’t able to express his feelings.

  It was only after he’d left her that she’d realized the reason he hadn’t expressed himself was because he hadn’t felt the things she’d wanted him to feel. She’d imagined his feelings to suit her own needs, but in reality they hadn’t existed.

  It was bitterly ironic that the first time he said something personal to her was ten years after they’d broken up. And even more ironic that he’d used her own emotional transparency against her.

  “There is nothing I want to say.”

  “I walked out on you ten days into our marriage.” His gaze was steady. “Most women would have plenty to say about that.”

  “I know what happened, Zach. I was there.” In pieces. Broken. “And I had plenty to say at the time. Unfortunately you weren’t there to hear it.”

  “I’m here now.”

  “And now I don’t care.”

  “Seems to me that if you didn’t care, you’d be accepting my offer of a lift to the hospital.”

  “Maybe I prefer to take a cab and go on the ferry.”

  His gaze held hers. “Yeah, that makes total sense. Why accept a twenty-minute journey when you could make it last four hours? The offer stays open. If you change your mind, call me.”

  “Goodbye, Zach.”

  She closed the door after him and stomped around the kitchen, crashing plates as she cleared the mess.

  She’d spent so long putting the whole thing behind her. Moving on. She’d rationalized it and learned from it. On a good day she could look back on it with humor. The bad days she ignored. Either way, it was in her past.

  But now he’d shoved it into her present.

  He’d ripped off all the new layers she’d built over the hurt. It was like demolishing a building right down to the foundations.

  And what the hell was it all about?

  Why was he offering to fly her to the hospital?

  Confused and unsettled, she paced the kitchen and back again, trying to find the calm she so desperately needed. Instead her insides churned and boiled like the ocean threatening a storm.

  She had no idea what to do with all the emotions inside her.

  As far as she could see, there was only one way to fix this and it wasn’t a casserole.

  She needed emergency help from her friends.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “ARE THESE GREEK OLIVES?” Skylar reached out slender fingers and popped one in her mouth. “Mmm. Kalamata. So good. There’s a tiny deli near my workshop that sells them marinated in garlic and oregano. I’m addicted. How many jars did you bring home?”

  “Four, including that one.” Hampered by having only one hand, Brittany handed the wine to Emily. The arrival of her friends had relieved some of the tension that had threatened to explode inside her. “You’ll have to open this, it’s one of the many tasks that are near impossible one-handed.”

  “Not being able to open a bottle of wine by yourself constitutes a life crisis.” Skylar tilted her head. “If you clamp it between your thighs, you should be able to twist off the cap with your good hand.”

  “I can think of better things to clamp between my thighs. And it’s simpler to ask Emily. What are friends for if not to open wine?”

  “To help you drink it.” Skylar held out her glass. “Fill it up. I need it after the week I’ve had. Richard is stressed out. Understandable given that the elections are only a few months away. It’s going to be very close. It makes him short-tempered so I’m walking on eggshells most of the time.” Something in her tone set off alarm bells in Brittany’s head.

  She glanced at Emily who gave a brief shake of her head and filled the glasses.

  Making a mental note to quiz Emily later, Brittany let Sky’s remark go without further comment. “So what’s new in the world of Tempest Designs?”

  “My whole life is focused on my exhibition in December.” Sky slid off her pumps and flexed her toes. “It will feel weird being in London so close to Christmas.”

  “You and Richard can turn it into a romantic break.”

  “He’s not sure he can make it. If he wins, he’ll be busy. And it’s the holidays of course.”

  “But it’s your big moment.” Emily put her glass down slowly. “Surely he wants to be there.”

  “I wouldn’t mind that much if he couldn’t make it. He’ll spend the whole time on the phone anyway and he’s not at his best when he isn’t the center of attention.” Skylar turned her head and sniffed. “Something smells good. What are you feeding us?”

  “Casserole of unknown origin.” Britt
any wondered if she was the only one who felt uneasy about Sky’s relationship with Richard Everson. “Getting it into the oven required a feat of dexterity I’m glad you didn’t witness, but one of you is going to have to lift it out because I’m not cuddling it now that it’s hot.”

  “Talking of cuddling things that are hot, tell us about Zach.”

  “Nothing to tell.”

  “You invited me for the weekend so we could talk about nothing?”

  Emily frowned. “She doesn’t have to talk about it if she doesn’t want to.”

  “Yes, she does.” Sky leaned forward, an impish look in her eyes. “Have you talked to him since he saw you naked?”

  Emily’s eyes widened. “He saw you naked?”

  Sky reached for another olive, the bracelets on her wrist jangling. “He heard her scream and rescued her. It was romantic.”

  Brittany sat down, enjoying the soothing warmth of the kitchen and the company of her friends. “Breaking and entering is not romantic.” Knowing she wasn’t going to get away with anything less than a full account of the happenings of the past few days, she surrendered to the inevitable and told the whole story.

  Emily sipped her wine. “I hope you accepted his offer to fly you to the hospital.”

  “I didn’t. Nor did I accept his suggestion that we talk.”

  “Why?” Skylar leaned forward. “Why turn down a golden opportunity to fry his firm, muscular butt?”

  “Because it’s in the past. I’ve moved on.”

  “Are you sure? Because no one would blame you if you hadn’t. The man is hotter than hell in a heat wave.” Skylar caught Emily’s eye and shrugged defensively. “What? It’s true! He is superhot. In a very bad-boy, dissolute, don’t-turn-your-back-on-the-silver sort of way, of course. If it were me, I’d be tempted to rip his clothes off and find out if the sex is as good as ever.”

  Brittany thought about the moody black eyes and that lethally sexy body. Those strong, competent hands brushing over her underwear. “I’m not tempted.”

  “Of course she isn’t,” Emily said stoutly. “Brittany is smart. She has far more sense than to make the same mistake twice.”

  Skylar raised an eyebrow expectantly and Brittany sighed.

  “Fine, I find him sexy—” she snapped out the words, more irritated with herself than with them “—but it makes no difference because I am not sleeping with my ex. I wouldn’t put myself through that. Oh, hell, why did I ever come back here?”

  “Because you need rest and recuperation and this is the perfect place.”

  “Not when it’s been contaminated by your ex-husband. I’ve never felt less rested in my life.”

  “So to summarize,” Emily said slowly, “you thought you felt nothing, you wanted to feel nothing, then you saw him and you felt something.”

  Skylar helped herself to another olive. “She felt a whole lot of something she didn’t want to feel.”

  Brittany slumped in her chair and stared gloomily at her wine. “I don’t know what I felt, but none of it was good.”

  “You need to explore those feelings.”

  “No, she doesn’t!” The suggestion seemed to trouble Emily. “I think she needs to let it go. It’s bound to feel a little weird and uncomfortable seeing him after all this time, but if she ignores those feelings, they’ll fade.”

  “Ignoring feelings is dangerous. They have a way of growing and damaging your insides. Better to let it out. It’s cathartic.” Skylar picked up the wine bottle and emptied it into Brittany’s glass. “There’s another in the fridge. Move your butt, Em.”

  “We should eat the casserole before we open the next bottle. And it might not be cathartic.” Emily stood up. “It could just open old wounds and then she’ll be upset all over again. I don’t see what there is to be gained.”

  “For a start, she’d enjoy some spectacular off-the-scale sex.”

  “I’m sitting right here,” Brittany muttered. “You could include me in the conversation. And your imagination is in overdrive.”

  Sky grinned. “You were the one who told us the sex was amazing. I was so envious I wanted to poke you in the eye with a stick. At that point in my life I’d only been on the receiving end of awkward teenage fumbling, but you’d had the real thing. Mature guy who knew everything about sex. He must have been the perfect first time. And second time.”

  Brittany felt as if she’d been fried in hot oil. “I can hardly remember. I probably exaggerated to impress you.”

  “Lying has never been part of our friendship.”

  Emily gave a sigh of exasperation. “She was eighteen. It was her first time. She’s turned it into something big in her mind, that’s all.”

  The corner of Sky’s mouth dimpled with wicked humor. “Was it big? Because any moment now I’m going to leave Richard and try it for myself.”

  Emily rolled her eyes. “Eat another olive, Sky. Do anything except talk.”

  “I’m just trying to establish the facts, that’s all. I grew up in a house full of lawyers. I can’t help myself. So Dr. Forrest—” Sky adopted a formal tone “—you need to remember you are under oath. Was sex with Zachary Flynn the best you’ve ever had in your life?”

  “Maybe.” It was something she tried not to think about because the good feelings were all mixed up with the bad, but both her friends were looking at her and she sighed. “Yes.”

  Skylar glanced triumphantly at Emily. “Your witness.”

  Emily shook her head and walked to the fridge for the second bottle of wine. “You’re encouraging her to have sex with a man she hates.”

  “Emotion doesn’t need to play a part. She should enjoy all that superior skill and experience without worrying about the rest of it. All hormones and no heart.”

  “Not going to happen.” Brittany held out her glass. “I’m not interested and neither is he. There are no feelings on either side.”

  “Are you sure about that? He broke into your house to save you. Those aren’t the actions of a guy who has no feelings.”

  Brittany gave Emily a desperate look. “Can you stop her talking?”

  “No. And I actually agree with her about that part.” Emily’s voice was soft as she topped up the glasses. “I think he cares, Brit.”

  Brittany shook her head. “To most men a gesture of caring would be a bunch of flowers or a box of chocolates. To Zachary Flynn it’s a bit of B and E.”

  “Did he break a window?”

  “No.”

  “A lock?”

  She shifted in her seat. “No.”

  “Then how did he get in?”

  “I didn’t ask. I don’t want to know.”

  “Well, you should.” Worried, Emily glanced at the kitchen door. “It means the cottage isn’t secure. If he can get in, so can someone else.”

  Brittany rubbed her fingers over her forehead. “He said the same thing, but it’s nonsense. Not everyone has his skills.”

  “So you keep telling us.” Sky gave a dirty laugh. “Which brings us back to the original conversation.”

  “Stop talking and eat.” Emily removed the casserole from the oven. “I can’t believe someone made this for you. The islanders are so kind. I’ll never forget the way they protected Lizzy when that awful journalist was trying to find her.” She set the casserole in the middle of the table and lifted the lid. “Smells amazing. Wine and herbs. Boeuf bourguignon?”

  Skylar stood up, too, and headed for the drawers nearest to the door. Both girls had spent so much time here over the years that they moved around the kitchen as confidently as Brittany. “This is one of the many things I love about Puffin Island. If you mooch around the harbor looking brokenhearted you could eat free for the whole month. No cooking.” It was a well-known fact that Sky, despite being astonishingly creative in so many different ways, hated cooking. Today her contribution was to find napkins, twist them into pretty shapes and light a candle she found at the back of a drawer. Intercepting their glances, she shrugged. “What? I know w
e’re all girls, but I don’t see why every meal can’t be beautifully presented. We deserve a romantic atmosphere.”

  “You sound like Kathleen. She always insisted we sat down at the table with napkins. No TV dinners or eating on the run.” Emily served rice and ladled the casserole into bowls. “I miss her.”

  Brittany felt the pang of loss. “Me, too. I could do with having her here to kick my butt right now.” And to hug her and tell her everything would be all right. “It’s a sad truth that kicking your own butt is nowhere near as effective as someone else doing it.”

  “Don’t worry, we’re here to kick it for you.” Skylar returned to her seat and raised her glass. “To Kathleen, who was as wise as she was wonderful. And who would want you to do what feels right, even if that meant having sex with Zach.”

  “I’m not having sex with my ex-husband. For a start it would be more than he deserves and secondly that would make me stupid twice.”

  “Was it stupid the first time?”

  “Yes.” Brittany took a sip of wine and stared through the window, watching as the last of the evening sun sent a golden glow over the garden. “He was too damaged, too messed up, to ever trust anyone. He treated every human being he met with anger and suspicion. Maybe that was understandable in the circumstances, but it didn’t make a great foundation for a relationship and you can’t build a solid, lasting structure without foundations. A relationship is a structure, isn’t it? It’s something you build together.” She stared into the distance, thinking about what had gone wrong. “I was flattered that he was even interested in me. Everyone warned me, but I didn’t listen. I thought we had something special, and in a way maybe we did, but it still wasn’t enough. You can’t have a relationship without trust and intimacy, and Zach didn’t know anything about either of those things.”

  Emily picked up her fork. “You still have feelings, don’t you? In which case you’re right to be careful.”

  “Where’s the fun in being careful?” Skylar ate hungrily. “I don’t want to be bed bound at ninety with arthritic hips, regretting all the sex I didn’t have. I want to be able to lie there with a smile on my face thinking, man, that was good. I think you should throw caution to the wind and have wild monkey sex with him.”