The Ex Upstairs by Maureen Child
Nine
Later, in the hot tub on the roof, they sat together staring up at a star-splashed sky. The surface of the water bubbled and frothed around them, and the pulse of the motor, the rush of the water were the only sounds in the quiet night. A soft breeze slipped past them, adding a touch of cool to skin that was warm and wet.
Henry slanted a covert look at her and realized that she was even more beautiful than she had been ten years ago. Back then, he’d been so drawn to her he could see nothing else and tonight he knew that he felt the same, in spite of the passing years. He refilled her glass with the crisp white wine and watched as she took a sip, and then licked lips he couldn’t get enough of.
“If you keep watching me,” she whispered, “you’re going to make me nervous.”
“Oh, I don’t want you nervous,” he said, “but trembling would be good.”
“I can probably manage that for you later.” Amanda smiled, then looked up at the sky again.
His body stirred, and even Henry was amazed at his hunger for her. Years ago, he’d thought he could never feel more for anyone than what filled him every time he was around Amanda. Tonight, he knew he’d been wrong. Because what he felt for her now, after so many years without her, was so much more.
“This is amazing,” she said in a soft whisper, as if reluctant to shatter the silence of the night.
“It is,” he answered, still watching her.
She felt his gaze on her and turned, smiling at him. “I would be up here every night, just looking at the view.”
He gave her a quick grin. “Right now, I’m pretty fond of the view, too.”
Amanda sipped at her wine and sighed a little. “You’re more romantic than I remember you being.”
“I’ve had time to appreciate what I have when I have it.”
“And do you?” she asked. “Have me, I mean?”
“I do tonight,” Henry said softly. Whatever the future might deliver, for tonight, he was happier than he’d been in years.
Still smiling, she admitted, “I’ve never seen so many stars.”
“We’re higher here, farther away from the light pollution.” He shifted his gaze to the black, diamond-flecked sky above. “The last time I saw so many stars, I was in Ireland.”
“I’m envious.” She turned her head to look at him. “I’ve never been.”
He wanted to say he’d take her and that surprised him as much as he knew it would surprise her if he actually made the offer. He didn’t, because neither of them knew how long this would last between them. But he could imagine it. And Henry had a very good imagination.
“I stayed at a castle in County Mayo,” he said, remembering. “It sat in the middle of hundreds of acres, miles from the nearest city or village, and at night, the castle lights were turned off, so you could see all of the sky, stretching out into eternity. Makes you feel...”
Her mouth quirked as she glanced at him. “If you say you felt small and insignificant, I won’t believe you.”
He grinned. Nice to be with someone who knew you so well. “No, not small,” he said. “But it does make you feel a connection to...something. As if anything is possible.”
“We’re here, together, after too many years apart,” Amanda said, turning her face up to the stars again. “So maybe anything is possible.”
Henry hooked one arm around her, pulling her in close. Side by side, her head on his shoulder, they watched the stars and he wondered—hoped—she was right.
Eventually, during that long night, they managed to get horizontal.
And, Henry had to admit, horizontal worked just fine. Stretched out on his bed, with Amanda beside him, he stared up at the ceiling and watched the shadows of trees dance in the moonlight.
He propped one arm behind his head, leaned back against the pillows piled against the headboard and shifted his gaze to her when she slipped out of bed and began to get dressed.
“You don’t have to leave,” he said, surprising himself at the offer. Since his extremely brief marriage, no woman had spent the night with him. He avoided the intimacy because it was easier all the way around. But with Amanda, it was...different.
It had always been. He’d put her out of his mind for his own survival because that first year without her had almost killed him. He’d thought at first that of course she’d come to him. They’d figure something out together. But she hadn’t called him or tried to see him and after months of silence, he’d hated her for that. And then he clung to the anger until it had finally become a part of him that he could ignore or feed, depending on his mood.
Finally, though, for his own sake, he stopped thinking of her. Tried to stop the dreams. Because memories brought only pain. Now she was here and he didn’t know whether to believe or not. Would she stay? Go? He couldn’t know, so he shut himself off from possibilities because the line was too fine.
She stopped, looked at him, and in the moonlight, her blue eyes seemed to soften and shine and her smile was wistful. Tucking her shirt in, she drew the two sides across each other since she no longer had buttons. “Thanks for the offer, but I really should go.”
Henry got out of bed and tugged his jeans on without bothering to zip them. “All right,” he said as he walked toward her. “But you’ll be back.”
It wasn’t a question and they both knew it.
“Yes,” she said. “I will come back.”
Nodding, he rubbed his hands up and down her arms, reluctant to let her go. He was feeling too much, he told himself, yet couldn’t seem to stop it. That line between belief and regret thinned even further.
“You realize I’m not giving up,” she said, looking up at him.
He grinned briefly. “I’ve never known you to. But what are you talking about specifically?”
“The hall, Henry,” she said. “I still want to know how you managed to get it before me.”
He blew out a breath and stalled. If he told her the truth, this was over just as it was beginning. Maybe that would be best, he thought, though everything in him fought against it. Henry wanted more of her. More nights like this one. If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget opening the front door to have her leap at him, all passion and fire. To have her suddenly back in his life was almost as hard as living without her had been, but he wouldn’t change it. What that said, he didn’t know and didn’t care.
So he kept his secrets. “What is it about a hardheaded woman I find so appealing?”
“An insult and a compliment in one sentence.” She smiled and his heart turned over. “Impressive.”
He gave her a brief smile. He’d successfully dodged her question, but he had one that had been plaguing him. “Answer me this. What were you planning on doing with the hall? Why was it so important to you?”
She finger-combed her hair and it didn’t help much. He preferred it this way, long and loose and out of control.
“Does it matter now?”
“Indulge me,” he said.
Her lips curved. “I thought I already did.”
He grinned again because damn, he’d missed more than her body. More than the pleasure they gave each other. He’d missed this. Sparring with her. Laughing. Talking. She was quick, smart, funny and never gave an inch. “Okay, indulge me again.”
She took a deep breath and shrugged as she stepped into her heels. “Fine. Guess it doesn’t matter now anyway. The hall’s actually pretty close to the center—I mean, straight across the parking lot.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Well, I wanted to build a concourse, joining the two buildings.”
That he hadn’t imagined at all. Surprised, and intrigued, he asked, “Why?”
Amanda smiled and said, “The center is amazing, but as far as refreshments go, there’s only the café and it’s really too small for a full house.”
“True.” He still didn’t know where she was going with this, but even in the moonlight, Henry could see the excitement on her features. How her eyes shone brighter as she outlined what she had planned—before he put a stop to it.
“Well, in the concourse, I planned to have a few elegant shops, eclectic stuff mainly, and a pub.”
He laughed. She was one surprise after another. The Carey family was all about sophistication and grandeur. He should have known that Amanda would step outside their carefully constructed box. “A pub? Alongside the elegance that is the center?”
“Yes, exactly.” She grinned at his disbelief as if she enjoyed surprising him. “Bennett would probably have reacted exactly like you are.”
Well, that gave him pause. He didn’t like knowing that he and Bennett would feel the same about...anything. When they’d met in college, they’d been very different but a friendship had grown anyway. Back then, Henry had seen how devoted Bennett was to the family business, to earn the crown from his father. And Henry hadn’t understood at all. He’d been browbeaten by his father into the company and he’d resented nearly all of it back then. Had he really changed so much that his reactions were now like Bennett’s?
That was an uncomfortable thought.
“It would have been perfect,” Amanda was saying, her enthusiasm spiking with every word. “The pub would give patrons a place to have a drink before or after a performance, simple food and a place where we could foster new talent. Hold open mic nights, maybe...”
He could almost see it from the mental pictures she painted and he knew she was right. It would work. Hell, it might turn into something as popular as the center itself. But it would never happen now, because he’d chosen to buy it just to piss off Bennett Carey.
Frowning now, he focused on Amanda as she kept talking.
“At the end of the concourse would be the hall.” She shrugged and said, “The plan was to gut it, expand it and, finally, turn it into a five-star restaurant, big enough to support a lot of the crowd from the center after a performance and separate enough to make its own customer base, as well.” She paused, sighed a little and said, “It would have been...”
“Great,” he finished for her and felt a stab of guilt that he’d stolen it out from under her.
“Yeah,” she agreed softly, “I think it would have been. And then Bennett would have to—”
Amanda stopped talking and reached down to pick up her bag. But now Henry had to hear it all. “Bennett would what?”
“Why not tell you the rest, too?” She took another breath. “My idiot brother would have to admit. Out loud. That I know what I’m doing.”
Well, hell. He hadn’t realized that she was fighting for recognition within her own family, and whether he’d been aware at the time or not, he’d managed to submarine her. “Now he won’t.”
“I’ll find another way,” she said firmly and he didn’t doubt her for a minute.
Still, he felt like a complete bastard for stealing what had been her dream out from under her. He hadn’t even wanted the damn hall. Still didn’t, come to that. He had no plans for it beyond making Bennett furious. Always before, that result had been enough. Now, it didn’t feel like it was.
He could apologize, but what would that mean? Too little too late. As if she could read what he was thinking, she said, “I don’t want an apology.”
“I feel like giving you one anyway.”
“No, don’t bother.”
“Then what do you want?”
“You’ve already asked me that once before.”
“Humor me,” he said with a shrug.
“Indulging, humoring... Where does it end?”
“Amanda...”
“Fine.” She took a breath, looked into his eyes and said, “I want to know if I’m making a mistake being here.”
“You’re not,” he said instantly. Whatever was happening between them wasn’t a mistake. He refused to believe that. So many years apart had made this time with Amanda even sweeter than he’d imagined it could be. But was she feeling the same?
“Well, of course that would be your opinion.” She gave him a small smile and shook her head gently.
“Self-serving, I know, but still true.”
“I hope so. I’ll have to think about it.” She lifted one hand to cup his cheek. “Good night, Henry.”
He walked her down, let her out and reset the alarm. Her birthday. Then the dark and the quiet fell down around him and Henry had too much time to do too much thinking.
For the next week, Amanda spent more time at Henry’s place than at her own. She excused it by telling herself that his new house was so close to her work, it made more sense than having him at her house in Laguna. But it was more than that and she knew it.
Love, old and new, was rising up inside her and she was afraid to trust it. Trust him. How could she?
And he didn’t trust her, either. She felt that.
They talked about the past, let each other in on what they’d been doing the last several years. She knew about his brief marriage and had found herself wondering if she was the reason it hadn’t worked out for him. But if that were true, why had he never contacted her? Why had he kept up the war with Bennett and her family? And was this time with her just another battle? Would he somehow use this against her?
She just didn’t know. And though her mind screamed at her to be careful, her heart yearned. Keeping herself centered between the two was becoming a difficult balancing act. If she fell... Amanda didn’t know if she’d survive it this time.
Because as much as she’d loved him years ago, she loved him more now. She hadn’t expected it. Hadn’t really wanted it, but some things went too deep to ignore. He still held her heart and he’d already broken it once. Could she trust him to not do the same now?
There was too much distrust on both sides, though she hated to admit it. Henry was holding back a part of himself just as she was. They talked about business, but neither of them went deep. They didn’t share what they were working on, what their plans were. They could talk about the past, but the future was nebulous and never further away than the following day.
She didn’t talk to Henry about her ideas, because she couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t simply sweep something out from under her again. And apparently, he felt the same way about her.
They were together, with a wall between them. So busy protecting themselves, they couldn’t breach that wall and Amanda wasn’t sure they should try.
Then there was her family. None of them knew what was going on between her and Henry, and Amanda knew that if Bennett found out, he’d go ballistic and make her life a living hell. So she kept it secret. Hidden. As if she were ashamed of what she was doing. And she had to ask herself...was she?
“What’re you thinking?” Henry’s voice came soft in the darkness and she stiffened. Was it time, she wondered? Time to take a leap of faith and see if her trust would be protected or destroyed? And if not now, then when? They couldn’t go on like this forever.
Taking a chance, she said, “I’m wondering what we’re doing here, Henry.”
He grinned and in the dim light of the moon pouring through the French doors off the balcony, he looked far too good and a little dangerous on top of it. Which only added to the thrill of expectation that opened up inside her.
“Right now,” he said amiably, “we’re resting up for round two.”
She had to smile in spite of everything. Yet, what she felt when she was with him wasn’t enough to dispel what she worried about when they were apart.
Wanting him as she did, Amanda needed answers. “I mean, where’s this going?”
He stiffened and sat up against a pillow he tucked behind his back. She could see the expression on his face clearly enough, so she put his mind at ease on that point anyway.
Laughing at that completely male response, she shook her head and assured him, “I’m not looking for a proposal or even a promise, so you can relax there.”
“All right,” he said, caution clear in his tone. “Then what is it, Amanda?”
She couldn’t think in the bed, so close to him, so she scooted off the mattress and began to pace. It was a good sprawling room for pacing. The space was huge and wasn’t cluttered with furniture yet. She could have danced across the floor if she’d felt like it.
Keeping time with her thoughts, she walked a little too fast to the now-cold hearth, where she stood and studied it thoughtfully. “There should be a roaring fire and a dog curled up in front of it. Then the room would be perfect.”
“A dog.” He repeated it and she looked back at him. “That’s what you’re thinking about?”
“No.” She took a breath and walked back to him. Her bare feet made no sound on the soft rug that lay across the wide-planked floor. She didn’t bother grabbing her clothes, since there was no point in being embarrassed about chatting naked with him—he’d seen all of her too many times to count now, anyway.
“No one knows about us,” she blurted out and came to a stop at the end of the bed. And she only now was realizing how much that bothered her. “We’re sneaking around as if we were children, afraid of being caught and grounded or something.”
It was the trust, she thought. Or the lack of it, rather, that was driving the secrecy. Staring at him, she admitted, “I haven’t told my family we’re together this way.”
“Why not?”
She swung her hair back behind her shoulders. “Before I answer that, I’ll ask you. Does anyone on your side know about us?”
“My ‘side’?”
“Oh, don’t get all offended.” She waved that off. “You know what I mean.”
“I do,” he said, and after a long moment added, “And no. I haven’t told anyone.”
She was sorry to hear that. “So I can ask you the same question. Why?”
He studied her. “Because it’s no one’s business but ours.”
“No.” Amanda gave him a long look. “That’s the easy answer, Henry. For both of us.”
He scrubbed one hand across his face and then pushed his hair back as he obviously worked to gather his thoughts.
“Maybe,” Henry admitted, then tossed the sheet off and stood up. “What about you? Why don’t you want your family to know? Ashamed?”
“No.” She answered quickly, so he would understand that shame had no part in this. But Amanda also said, “I’m not ashamed, Henry. But I’m not...easy with this, either.”
He walked toward her and she skipped back a step or two because God help her, when he was close, her brain simply ceased to function.
“I guess, at the heart of everything, I don’t trust you,” she said flatly and nearly winced when she saw in his eyes the impact her words had on him. “I hate saying it, and I wish I could change it. But if the truth doesn’t happen between us, then what’s the point?”
He blew out a breath and looked as though he wanted to reach for her again, but he kept his distance. Maybe he, too, didn’t trust himself to have clear thoughts when they got close. Small consolation, but she’d take it.
“You’re right,” he muttered, and shook his head. “I don’t like hearing it, but the truth is, I don’t trust you, either.”
“Well, that’s great, isn’t it?” Something inside her curled up and whimpered and maybe it was her hope for a future that could never happen without trust.
Deep inside, Amanda had been hoping that this time with him would lead them somewhere...else. Somewhere they could be together and recapture what they’d had and lost so long ago. But if they couldn’t let the past go, how could they reach for the future?
“There’s a lot still hanging between us, Amanda, and right now, I don’t know how to get past it.”
“Maybe we can’t.” And wasn’t that a sad statement? They’d both grown and changed, yet at the heart of this mess was one night that had happened ten years ago. Didn’t seem right that it would have such a big influence over choices made now. “Henry, I don’t even talk to you about work, because I’m never sure if you’re going to use that information against me somehow.”
“Do you think I’m not doing the same thing? Amanda, if Bennett knew we were together like this...”
“He’d be furious,” she said.
“More than that, he’d have you trying to pry information out of me. And damned if I wouldn’t be tempted to give it.” He stalked off, grabbed up a pair of loose cotton pants and tugged them on. They hung low over his hips and only made him look even sexier than he did when he was naked.
Amanda was in big trouble and she knew it. She was in love with a man she couldn’t allow herself to trust. Love was the open door, but trust was the warmth inside. If you didn’t have one, how could you have the other?
His body was stiff, shoulders squared. “There are plenty of things going on at work, but I don’t bring it up, because the Carey family has tried to destroy me before.”
“I’m not the Carey family.”
“You’re one of them,” he countered, then continued. “And you just admitted yourself you don’t trust me with information, so don’t look so insulted.”
She was, though, and didn’t bother to hide it. “I never betrayed you, Henry,” Amanda reminded him hotly. “You can’t say the same.”
“Maybe not,” he admitted shortly. “But answer me this. Did you defend me to your family when it all went to shit?”
“How could I defend you when you walked away?” she demanded. “You left. Without a word to me. You were gone and it was as if nothing we’d shared meant anything to you.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” he reminded her, his voice low and tight, filled with a simmering anger that was fast coming to a boil. “It’s not as if I willingly left you. I was staying at your family’s house. Bennett tossed me out. I went because there was nothing there for me anymore.”
“There was me,” she reminded him and felt her own temper spike. “Do you know what it was like for me? Alone? I didn’t have you there with me to face any of it.”
“Yeah? I lost my best friend and the woman I loved all at the same time. If you think I was having a great time, you’re wrong.” He pushed one hand through his hair and grumbled, “Besides, for all I knew, you wanted me gone, too.”
“But you didn’t bother to find out, did you?” When he didn’t say anything, the anger within became disappointment and a to-the-bone kind of sorrow that made her want to turn in on herself. Which she would not be doing in front of him. “Why are we doing this, Henry? Why are we here together now?”
His gaze snapped to hers. “Because, damn it, I’ve missed you, Amanda.”
That was salve to the open wound on her soul, but it didn’t mend it. Maybe nothing could.
But she could at least admit that much herself. “I missed you, too, as I’ve told you. But if all we can share is a past filled with distrust, then there’s nothing really here, is there?”
He thought about it for a moment or two before he said softly, “We could find a way to get past it.”
“We haven’t yet.”
“Have we tried?”
He had a point. They’d both been skating through this relationship or whatever it was. Staying on the surface, never going far enough to where it might matter. Neither of them willing to take the step that might have closed the gap between them.
“No, you’re right.” Amanda sighed. “Maybe we’re not supposed to. We had our shot ten years ago and we lost it. Maybe that’s all we get.”
“You really believe that? After this last week?” He rushed to her and took hold of her upper arms and gripped tight. “That’s it?”
His touch sent bolts of heat flying through her body but it wasn’t enough. Never would be. Not without the whole package. Without love. Trust. A future.
“We’re good together, Amanda.”
“We were,” she corrected, shaking her head and staring up into his eyes. “Back then, we had a chance. But it slipped away. Now, we have sex.”
“Great sex.”
“True.” She thought it wasn’t just great, but earth-shattering. Soul consuming. And yet... “But it’s not enough, Henry. For either of us.”
She watched shutters drop over his eyes. His features went cool and disinterested, as if she were a stranger standing there in front of him. He was closing himself off so she had to accept that he was leaving. Again.
“You know what?” He let his hands drop, then folded his arms across his chest. “You’re right.” Looking down into her eyes, he said tightly, “I want all of you, Amanda, but I don’t know that I could trust it if I had it. And I can’t give you all of me, for the same reason.”
Amanda had told him her truth and now he’d done the same for her and the pain was swamping her. Heart aching, stomach sinking, she met his gaze and told herself not to cry. For God’s sake, she didn’t want to cry in front of him. She could at least spare herself that humiliation. Lifting her chin and digging for strength, Amanda told herself that she’d wanted honesty, at least, between them. She just hadn’t expected it to hurt so badly.
“Okay, the truth really does hurt,” she said, forcing a smile she didn’t feel. “But openness, even when it’s hard, is easier to live with than lies.”
Henry snorted. “Doesn’t feel easy.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed. Turning around, she walked to the closest chair, picked up her slacks and stepped into them. Then she shrugged on her shirt and buttoned it up, all without looking at him. Stuffing her bra and panties into her brown bag, she finally straightened and turned to face him. He was standing where she’d left him, his gaze locked on hers as if for the last time. And maybe it was.
“I’m leaving,” she said, “but if we’re done, if we’re really over... I want one more truth from you before I go.”
He nodded stiffly.
“The hall,” she blurted out. “How did you find out that I wanted to buy it?”
He scrubbed one hand across his face, then around to rub at the back of his neck. His reaction told her she really wasn’t going to like his answer, so Amanda braced herself for it. And still, it hit her hard.
“Serena.”
“What?”That she hadn’t expected. Why, she couldn’t have said. She knew her sister had been meeting Henry for lunch, keeping in touch. The problem was Serena believed Henry was her friend. “Were you being nice to her, being her friend just to use her? How could you do that? To her, of all people.”
“No!” He blew out a breath. “I like your sister. I don’t have many friends and she’s one of them. I never used her. Never tried to get information out of her. I don’t expect you to believe me, but it’s the truth. Which is what you said you wanted.”
“It is.” But she hadn’t thought that truth would close off her throat and stab at her heart.
He walked away, then whirled around and came back. “Then the truth is, over lunch one day, Serena mentioned that you were excited about the old hall near the center. You were going to buy it, but you wouldn’t tell her what your plan was yet, and the curiosity was killing her.”
Pain, sharp and hot, pulsed in the center of her chest. “And you used that. Used her. To hurt me.”
“Yes.” He met her gaze squarely. Not trying to avoid the confrontation at all. “I’ll admit to that, but it wasn’t just you. I wanted to get back at Bennett, too.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, choking out a harsh laugh. “Can’t forget Bennett. Can’t forget that I remain, after ten years, the ragged chew toy that you two fight over. That makes me feel way better.”
“It was just a deal, Amanda.”
“No, it wasn’t,” she argued, staring at him as if she didn’t know him at all. And maybe she didn’t. Maybe she’d never known him as she’d thought she did. “You did it deliberately to hurt me. Bennett was a side benefit.”
His mouth worked as if chewing on words he was holding back.
“This has been going on forever,” she continued. “You and Bennett, tearing at each other and putting me squarely in the middle, like some tattered hunk of rope that you’re using in a twisted game of tug-of-war.”
“No one’s doing that,” he argued.
“Really?” She shook her hair back from her face. “Without me, would either of you have kept this stupid war going for ten years?”
He didn’t speak and she took that to mean she was right. But then, she’d already known that. This was harder than anything she’d ever lived through. Even that long-ago pain didn’t come up to this. She looked at him and saw everything she wanted—and the one man she couldn’t trust.
What kind of cosmic joke was that? To have Henry come into her life not once, but twice, and to lose him both times. Her heart aching, she blinked to keep furious tears at bay. God knew she’d have plenty of time for them later.
“I didn’t know what you wanted that stupid hall for,” he ground out.
“No,” she said. “You just knew I wanted it and that was enough for you.”
“Damn it, Amanda, see it from my side.”
“What is there to see? You did this to hurt me, Henry, in spite of what you tell yourself.” Her voice was so cold, she was half-surprised that ice wasn’t filling the room. “And you know what’s worse? You used Serena to hurt her family. You smiled at her. You were her friend and you used her.”
Both hands now scrubbed his face and then went up to scrape his hair back. “I am her friend,” he insisted. “I didn’t use her. I used information that she freely gave.”
“Spin it anyway you want to, Henry. But the bottom line here is you’re a bastard.”
“That’s been said before.”
“Then you should probably ask yourself if there’s something to it.” She had to go because tears were clogging her throat and burning her eyes. Her heart was broken. Again. And she wanted out of there before she somehow let him know it.
“Love shouldn’t be this hard, Henry.”
“Love?” he repeated. “Who said anything about love?”
“I did. You just weren’t listening.” God, she shouldn’t have told him that. Should have kept that one painful secret to herself.
“Amanda—”
She ignored him, swung her purse over her shoulder and headed for the bedroom door. When she got there, she looked back over her shoulder at him. He hadn’t moved. His features were still and tight and his eyes were shuttered, hiding whatever it was he was thinking, feeling.
Amanda wondered why it should be so hard to leave the man.
And why did it hurt so much that he was making no move at all to stop her?
“Goodbye, Henry.”