Then There Was You (Twist of Fate) Page 10

  Leaning on one arm, his fingers leave a trail of fire as he caresses down my side and then up under the navy blue tank top I threw on after my shower. I lift up enough for him to remove the offending fabric but once it’s gone, his mouth is right back on my body. His tongue tracing the line of my collarbone. Jack moves down my body, his lips pressing wet kisses down my middle that’s now exposed, and over my belly button.

  He hooks his fingers in the waistband of my shorts, and yanks them down my legs, throwing them behind him once they’re clear of my feet. My underwear follows soon after. I’m completely naked and bare to him, my legs bent at the knees. I squirm when Jack licks his lips and prowls towards me after ditching his jeans and t-shirt. A groan escapes us both when we’re finally skin to skin with nothing separating us. I wrap my legs back around his waist and Jack reaches between us to guide his head to my entrance. There’s no foreplay, but I’m already so wet for him that it doesn’t matter. He slides in easily and my back bows off the bed, pushing my breasts in his face. Jack chuckles but sucks a nipple into his mouth. I tighten my hold around him and moan when his hips begin to buck. Long, slow thrusts at first that soon turn hard and fast.

  No more words are exchanged as Jack peers down at me while he fucks me. The sound of skin slapping skin, the only music in the room. Jack curses when my nails dig into the skin of his muscled back. My own arches and my release crashes over me. Shudders still wrack my body when he stiffens above me, and liquid heat fills me. I try to ignore the feel of raised scars as my palms skim up and down his back.

  It’s not until Jack pulls out and goes to clean up in the bathroom does the realization of what we just did… of what I just did comes crashing down around me. I turn over on my side facing the wall and drag the soft sheets over my body, the sheets that still smell like Nate, and cry.

  Fuck. I screwed up so badly.

  Chapter 12

  Me: I need to see you

  Me: Please

  Nate: Just name the time and place, baby

  Me: Café Caprice? An hr?

  Nate: I’ll be there

  It feels wrong to not meet him at Dunes where we had our first date and subsequent dates thereafter. It quickly became known as our spot, but the conversation I know we are about to have requires somewhere more neutral. And truth be told, if things go south between Nate and I, I don’t want the sour memory to taint the restaurant that became such an important place to me. To us.

  It takes me about forty-five minutes to drive from my house to Camps Bay and find parking. The beach is still crowded with people and that doesn’t really surprise me. There’ll be locals and tourists on the beach until at least sunset. After all, Camps Bay is the perfect place to catch a beautiful sunset while having a drink on one of the numerous patios lining the street.

  I ignore the guys on the pavement selling locally handcrafted objects and painted canvases and look both ways… twice before crossing the street. In Cape Town, you never know when a taxi full of people is going to come barreling down the road. I do not want to get run over today. As soon as I clear the street and turn in the direction of the restaurant, I see him.

  The sun glinting off his black hair and mirrored aviator sunglasses. I’m kind of miffed that they hide his eyes from me. I love seeing his love for me shining back through them, now they’re covered. The rational side of my brain says he’s wearing them because it’s bright as heck out, but the irrational side is saying that maybe his feeling towards me have changed since witnessing my husband’s return from the dead yesterday.

  The irrational part shuts up as soon as I’m close enough for Nate to pull me into the tight circle of his arms. Time ceases to exist as he holds me. I inhale his scent of coconut and spice and let out a relieved sigh. I used to always joke with him that he smelt like Malibu rum. But I love the smell, it reminds me of summer days spent at the beach and cool drinks afterward. Of sipping Pina Coladas by the pool.

  Nate moves to pull away, but I refuse to lessen my grip just yet. I need a little bit more of this. I need to imprint his scent and the feel of his arms around me if this is the last time I’ll ever get the chance. He obliges by pulling me closer. I sense someone moving up beside us, but he asks them to come back because I hear the faint sound of footsteps disappearing farther inside the restaurant.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper into his chest, feeling like we must look quite a bit odd standing on the patio of a very popular restaurant just hugging.

  “Never feel sorry. I’ll hold you for as long as you’ll let me.”

  “Hmm, forever,” I hum before I can stop myself.

  Then Nate lets me go. Stepping around me he pulls out a chair and gestures for me to sit. I do and watch as he takes the seat across from me. Not beside me like he always did before. I squirm in my seat, feeling the void already growing between us. A void that’s growing bigger than the square table we’re seated at.

  My head spins as everything happens in fast forward motion. The waitress comes back to take our drink order and Nate goes ahead and orders dinner for both of us. Well, at least that part hasn’t changed. We somehow fall into a comfortable conversation discussing everything but what happened at my house yesterday. I know I should be glad that at least we can still talk, but we aren’t talking about the important things. It’s all superficial crap and what I really need to know is what Nate thinks about this whole fiasco.

  “Do you believe we only get one true love in our lifetime?” I ask after our waitress has come to collect our plates and refill our drinks. Then to bring the tequila shots I order.

  “If you’re asking me who you should choose. I can’t tell you that. If you’re asking me if it’s possible to love more than one person then yes, I believe it’s possible.”

  I sigh. My fingers playing with the still-full shot glass in front of me. “That doesn’t help me.”

  “Look,” he says, reaching over to take my hand in his. “I’ll always love you whether you decide to choose me or him. He’s your first love, your husband. I get that, but I won’t lie and say I wish I was your last. No one can make this decision for you, Nika.”

  “Am I a bad person for thinking this was so much easier when I thought he was dead?”

  A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “You’re not a bad person, but he’s not dead.”

  “No,” I say, before taking the shot. The alcohol burns on the way down. “He’s not.”

  Nate stands, gathering my light jersey and purse from the back of my seat. “Go home, get some rest. No good decision ever came from the bottom of a tequila bottle.”

  Pouting, I slide off the stool and step impossibly close to him, pressing my palms against his chest, leaning in until my lips brush against the skin below his jaw.

  “But it can be lots of fun.”

  “Annika,” he groans. His fingers wrap around my biceps and gently push me away from him. “Baby, there’s nothing I want more than to take you home right now, but you have a big decision to make and no matter how much I want to be the asshole that takes you home and tries to convince you to choose me, I’m not going to.”

  “So, you’re just not going to fight for me? For us?” I ask, feeling the alcohol start to take hold. I probably shouldn’t have drank so much. “Did you mean it at all when you said you loved me?”

  “Don’t,” he warns, a hard edge to his voice as he rakes a hand through his clipped hair. “You know I’d give my fucking life for yours, but you’re married, Nika. To him.”

  “But I thought he was dead! They told me he had died on deployment! I planned his damn funeral, Nate.”

  Memories of finding out the man I married straight out of high school, the man I vowed to spend the rest of my life with was dead, and the years of pain and mourning that followed threaten their way up again, but I push it all down. Nathan came into my life at a point where I was finally ready to move on, when the pain of losing Jackson wasn’t the first and last thing I felt every day. He made me remember what i
t felt like to fall in love again, and it was all being threatened because it turns out my husband isn’t really dead and is currently waiting for me at the house while I make my decision. I want to scream that it’s not as easy as they think. I love them both equally.

  “Have you slept with him?”

  The question takes me by surprise and all I can do is look up at Nathan as his eyes cloud over and his features darken. I can practically see the hurt begin to transform him, but what the hell do I say to that? I was caught up in the moment of my husband being back so yeah, I did fuck him, but I felt so guilty afterward that I practically cried myself to sleep thinking about you while my husband snored beside me.

  This was all so fucked up.

  “Nathaniel…”

  Something flashes in his eyes but then it’s gone. I can just imagine what he must think of me now. He reaches out, tracing a line down the side of my face from temple to jaw with the back of his finger before pushing a strand of sun-lightened brown hair behind my ear. “I refuse to come between a husband and his wife again.”

  My heart clenches at this being goodbye. I grip his hand tighter in mine when he turns to leave. “I love you, Nate.”

  His whisky-coloured eyes dance in the light of the setting sun as he leans in and presses the softest kiss to my lips. “You love him too.”

  A tear slips down my cheek when he turns to leave, his hand slipping through mine until our fingers are barely touching and then nothing. For the second time, I watch a man I love walk away with no idea if he’ll ever come back.

  He will if you choose him.

  What the fuck am I going to do now? Jack and I have been together since we were high school sophomores. I’ve only just met Nate several months ago. Is it possible to love someone this much after only six and a half months? Or is what I am feeling lust? I don’t think it is. Nate and I shared some pretty deep conversations over the time we’ve spent together. If it’s lust, I’m almost positive we would’ve spent ninety percent of that time fucking, but we hadn’t. Nate knew me almost as well as Jack did.

  Chapter 13

  “Hey babe.” Jack’s deep voice greets me as soon as I step through the front door of my house.

  Our house? I don’t know anymore. The whole situation has my head spinning and I have no idea how to make it stop. I want off this merry-go-round.

  His arms slip around me from behind when I toss my keys on the dining room table. I immediately shrug out of his embrace without much conscious thought. I don’t even make it a few seconds before the guilt begins to settle in my gut again. He’s my husband for pete’s sake. I shouldn’t feel guilty about him showing me affection.

  My mind instantly goes back to Nate and his words from the bar earlier tonight.

  Of course, I love Jack. He’s technically still my husband, isn’t he? Even if he isn’t, he’s still my first love, my first boyfriend, my first kiss… my first everything.

  The memory of the first time we made love comes rushing back. We were sixteen.

  “Come on, X! Let me just take the car for one night.” Jack begs his older brother, Xander, while I sit at their kitchen table and pretend not to hear the conversation going on down the hall in Xander’s bedroom.

  “No, Jackson. Mom and Dad will kill me if they found out I let you drive without an experienced driver not two weeks after you got your license.”

  “They don’t need to know,” Jack argues. “Plus, they’re out of town this weekend. Who’s going to tell them?”

  “The cops if you get caught.”

  “Then I won’t get caught.”

  “Look, bro. I’d love to help you out. I really would, but if I let you take the car and Mom and Dad find out then I get my keys taken away, and if I get my keys taken away then I won’t be able to take Kelly on a date next week,”

  I picture Jack rolling his eyes when he responds with, “Like Kelly will ever agree to go on a date with you.”

  Something hits the wall with a dull thud, and I imagine Xander throwing something at Jack’s head, but Jack ducks, sending the item into the wall.

  “She will,” Xander says with a confidence I’ve never heard from him before. “I’m so close to getting her to agree. I can almost taste it.”

  “Dude, please,” Jack begs again. “It’s our first official date. Would you have wanted a chaperone on your first date?”

  “Fuck no,” Xander groans.

  “Exactly.”

  There’s a beat of silence, followed by a bed creaking, the sound of a drawer being opened then closed, and finally a sigh.

  “If you get caught, I will deny ever having known that you took the car. You’re on your own then, baby bro.”

  “Deal,” Jack says excitedly.

  “And for God’s sake, make sure you pack a rubber… or two.”

  We did the standard date; dinner and a movie, but neither one of us was ready to go home and call it a night after the movie let out, so we went for a drive, parked at the beach, and went for a late-night stroll along the shore.

  When we got back to the car one thing led to another and let’s just say, the back seat of a Corolla was not the way I pictured losing my virginity, but it was still everything I imagined it would be. I think Jack had everything to do with that.

  We weren’t always in love and inseparable. There was a point in grade eight, my first school year in America, where I hated his guts. He was in my class and also lived in the house at the end of the street.

  He was the boy who made fun of my accent and the way I pronounced certain words, but he was also the boy who would run to defend me if he saw anyone else try to bully me. He was both my tormentor and my protector. I was grateful Florida had relatively similar weather patterns to Cape Town, but Jack always made sure I was warm when it got cold… well, cold by Cape Town standards. Floridians would look at me weird when I’d be bundled up in a long-sleeved shirt and a hoodie while they were in t-shirts.

  When we entered freshman year of high school, we were no longer in the same classes and it was weird, but it somehow brought us closer together.

  He and I would walk to school together in the mornings then he would drop me off at my first class and he would always be there to walk me to my next class. It became this unspoken ritual between us, one I think we both grew to rely on whether we admitted it or not. There were times - which were rare - when he was sick and wouldn’t be waiting for me outside of every class. I hated those days. Loathed them, actually. Everyone knew that Jack was sick because I would inevitably become bitchier.

  It wasn’t until our sophomore year that we finally decided if it looked like a duck and acted like a duck then it must be a duck. Meaning, if we looked like were dating, acted like we were dating, then we may as well be dating. And that was the beginning.

  I became known as Jackson’s girl, and Jack… he became known as mine, and there wasn’t a soul in that school who dared to threaten that. It helped that he was the quarterback of the football team and towered over the guys in our grade. Standing at a whopping 6’3” and 220 pounds at only seventeen years old, he was the tallest and biggest male in our junior year.

  “You’re still mad.” Jack accuses, heading into the kitchen for a beer.

  “I’m not mad. I have no reason to be mad,” I defend. “Just…” I sigh, leaning a hip against the wall that separates the kitchen from the rest of the house. “It’s going to take some time to get used to. It’s a lot to process.”

  He gathers me in his arms, his chin coming down to rest on the top of my head. The fresh pine scent of his body wash surrounding me in old comfort.

  “I know. It’s weird for me too. I never thought I would live long enough to get out of there, let alone see you again. When I found out you weren’t in Florida anymore I thought it was too late.”

  “How did you find me?” I ask, my fingers curling into the belt loops of his jeans.

  “I managed to get a hold of Londyn. She said you had moved back to Cape Town about two
years after they told you I’d died on deployment. She said you wanted to be closer to your family.”

  I hum, thinking about my friend back in Florida. “How is Londyn?” I ask.

  Jack’s hands slide up and down my back in a comforting movement. “Kyle really messed her up but sounds like she’s found some pretty great housemates. Their new neighbour is driving her nuts,” he laughs, explaining Carson - Londyn’s new neighbour - who also happens to be the cousin of one of her housemates. From what Londyn has said about him, Carson is close to completing his commitment to the Canadian Navy.

  “So-” Jack clears his throat.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and pray that he won’t ask me what I know he’s about to. I won’t deny that Nate means something to me, but I cannot… will not choose between my legal husband and my… boyfriend? Plus, how do you admit to the man you promised to spend your life with that you managed to go and fall in love with another man two years after you thought he had died.

  “Who was the guy that was here the other day?”

  I inwardly curse, not sure why I hoped that he wouldn’t bring up the subject. It’s only natural.

  “He, uh, he’s my… carpenter.” I shrug nonchalantly.

  Jack stands in front of me, his eyes pinning me to the spot. His arms cross and he leans a shoulder into the doorjamb. He doesn’t look convinced and I know I’ll have to admit that I fell in love again; That he’s no longer the only man who holds my heart. I take a deep breath, close my eyes and count to five before I open them again, and square off with my husband.

  “He’s also the man I’ve been seeing,” I say, my voice small and unsure.

  Jack’s eyes flame and for a moment I’m scared he’ll go off on me. Instead, he uncrosses his arms and straightens off the door, running a hand through his already mussed hair.

  “How long?” he asks.

  “Wh-what?”

  “How long have you been seeing him?”