“It seemed like a natural progression,” he said softly, pushing up his glasses.
“And I’m glad you liked the ideas I had about the master bathroom. I was afraid you’d veto my rain shower,” I teased.
He sighed. “Why would I veto your rain shower? Bathrooms need to be updated, Vivian. Even I know that.” His voice had changed again. He seemed tired, frustrated. Aggravated, but not in the way I normally seemed to get under his skin.
I’d teased Clark in the past to get a reaction out of him, but right now there was nothing I wanted more than to hear him say “impossible woman” in that deep voice of his. But that’s not what he said.
“I think it’s time I stepped back and let you follow through on the choices you’ve made here.”
He started for the door and I darted in front of him. “Hey. Wait, where are you running off to?”
“I’m not running off anywhere. I’m leaving,” he said matter-of-factly, looking anywhere but at me when I wedged myself between him and the door.
“Oh come on, Caroline and I were going to have a glass of wine, sit and watch the ocean for a bit, then maybe take the Blue Bomber out for a run up the coast.” Pressing back against the door, I smiled up at him in a winning way.
“You’re going to drink wine and then drive a car?” he asked sternly.
“No! If we did go for a drive it’d be much later, like . . . Dammit, Clark, you know what I meant!” I chewed on my thumbnail. “So come on. Stay. Okay?”
“I can’t,” he said, and moved to step around me.
I moved too. “Can’t or won’t?”
“Vivian.” He groaned when I matched him, bobbing when he weaved. Getting in his face and staying there.
“Can’t or won’t?” I repeated, unflinching. I stared into his eyes, molten chocolate and full of an emotion that was impossible to pinpoint.
“I have plans.”
“Plans?” I asked incredulously. Which was a bad idea.
“Yes, I have plans. Not all my evenings are taken up with thinking about you,” he spat out. “About you and this house, I mean.”
“Well, what are these plans?” I asked, frowning.
He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. He licked his lower lip, and I stared at it.
Caroline’s high heels clicking across the floor made me glance away, and he pushed past me onto the front porch.
“I’ll see you later,” he said, and was down the steps just as Caroline came up behind me. We watched the Taurus leave at a sensible speed, like the pace car in a homecoming parade. No dust thrown up from his tires, straight down the middle of the road.
“Did you ask him to stay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I answered, heading for the kitchen. “Drink?”
“Sure.” She followed me.
I poured myself a Scotch and a glass of wine for her.
“Feel like heading into town tonight?” I asked, and she nodded, her eyes curious. “Good,” I answered, throwing back my drink and not even wincing at the burn. “Good.”
Two drinks later, Caroline, Jessica, and I were perched on bar stools at John’s after walking into town, requiring pizza and more drinks. We’d acquired both and were now about to retire to a corner booth. While Caroline and Jessica had wisely switched over to water, I was steadily working through my fourth Scotch. And showing no signs of stopping. My body felt warm and loose, my lips were numb and buzzy at the same time, and I undid the top buttons on my shirt, needing to feel a little air.
“Stop undressing yourself,” Caroline teased.
“Someone should,” I mumbled, but I did stop just short of my bra.
“Oh, someone would. Believe me,” Jessica snorted, and she and Caroline shared a knowing look.
“Stop being secretive. Say what you need to say. Say what you need to say.”
“No John Mayer, karaoke is on Sunday nights.” Jessica passed me a napkin to wipe up the Scotch I’d just spilled. “How are things with the cowboy?”
“The cowboy?”
“Yeah, you know, the center of your alleged romance novel?”
“Oh yeah. Him. Well—”
“Wait,” Caroline interrupted. “You’re writing a romance novel?”
“No, I’m not. And why don’t you”—I pointed at Jessica—“just be quie—”
“Oh, you haven’t heard Viv’s theory? Of why she’s out here?” Jessica giggled, and Caroline looked at me.
“What theory?”
“There’s no theory. It was more of a feeling that—”
“I’m totally confused.” Caroline looked to Jessica for guidance.
“That’s okay, so is Viv.”
“Viv is right here! And Viv is going to smack you if you don’t stop all this romance novel talk right now!” I said.
Which shut her up for about three seconds.
“So Viv has this crazy idea that—”
“I’ll tell her! You’ll just mess it up,” I snapped, and Jessica gestured as though the floor was now mine. “Okay, so here’s the thing. I feel like Hank and I are meant to be together.”
“Hank?” Caroline asked, frowning.
“Yes, Hank. Together with me. Like in the biblical sense.”
“Like, the earth was flooded and he’s the only man left?” she asked.
Jessica slipped her a quiet high five.
“No! Have you seen him? With the abs and the chest and the face?” I asked, spilling a little more of my drink as I told the story of his body with my hands.
“Sure, I’ve seen him. I’ve talked to him too. Well, he grunted at me.” Caroline wrinkled her nose a bit.
“He grunted at you?” I asked, confused. “When?”
“That day we were all out here. He looked at my tits and grunted something like ‘sweet’ and then disappeared into the barn. I got the feeling I was supposed to swoon or something,” she snorted.
“He does like them tall and blond,” Jessica mused. “Although he usually likes them sluttier than you, no offense.”
“None taken.” They clinked glasses.
I drained mine and waved at John for another.
“So, you think Hank and you are supposed to be together,” she said. “Why is that, exactly?”
“It would take too long to explain,” I grumbled.
“Viv reads a ton of romance novels. So when she got a call in the middle of the night to move across the country, and take over a house on a cliff she’d inherited from an aunt she barely knew, and there was a half-naked cowboy involved, she assumed she was now living in one of the books she loves,” Jessica recapped, and looked to me for approval.