Читать книгу Let Me Love You - Linda Walters - Страница 9

Terrance entered the room and looked around. He recognized the faces of many of those present as longtime friends, but knew that Branch’s open-door policy would have gathered folks who were merely acquaintances, too.

Roger, whom they’d both met while still in college, held center stage in one corner. Nita’s younger sister, Monica, now all grown up and looking dangerously close to being a heartbreaker, was all ears as the older, more experienced women in the room spun tales of their last heartbreak or some newly sprouted romance.

Terrance gave a perfunctory wave to all, nodded to those who made eye contact and made his way across the oversized family room. Although one wall held a fireplace framed in stone, the afternoon warmth made it extremely unlikely the hearth would be lit any time soon. Fourteen-foot ceilings with a skylight on either side of the fireplace provided light and an ambiance which elicited banter, laughter and a solid exchange of stories fraught with creativity. And the bride and groom beamed. Legitimately in love, they continued to exhibit behavior which confirmed their absolute belief in one another.

Terrance’s heart beat heavily in his chest as the conversation he’d just ended seasoned his mood. No one had told him he’d have the regrets he now dealt with every day. No one had warned him that he’d have so many memories. And no one could have predicted with any amount of accuracy that in only four short years, it would become necessary to take the final steps to end his marriage.

Terrance’s eyes swept the room uncertainly, timidly, as he unconsciously sought the face of the woman who had garnered his attention earlier. He wanted to get to know Skye better, wanted to find out what made her tick, wanted to know if she was as incredible as she looked. His thoughts were interrupted by a heavy hand pounding on his back which almost made him choke. He turned around quickly, wondering if he’d encountered an enemy in his midst.

“Damn, man, it’s good to see you. Remember the time we were all scouring the streets of Nassau searching for a soul mate for the night?” Lorenzo said, laughter in his voice as Terrance turned toward him.

“Yeah, and you were almost jail bait so we decided to postpone the operation and instead, went out dancing. Man, has anybody told you that you’re really heavy-handed?” Terrance added as he threw one arm around his best friend’s brother in a mock choke hold. The rivalry between the two had been in play since the first day they’d met. Today was no different but for some reason, Terrance felt somewhat awkward. He imagined Skye watching, wondering if she’d think their exchange immature, then figured it didn’t matter since she didn’t know him anyway.

He still hadn’t seen her, but was sure that she was somewhere within the room, was certain that she would perceive the masculine interchange between him and Lorenzo as immature, which immediately made him want to end it.

Lorenzo, on the other hand, had no such qualms about tussling with the man he thought of as his most prominent adversary.

“Man, where the hell have you been for the past couple of years? It sucked that you missed the wedding.” He continued without waiting for a response, as Terrance wondered how he’d managed to remain exactly the same for so long.

“You know, I’m surprised that Branch invited you this weekend. But then, you could always talk your way in or out of anything. I know he was disappointed when you didn’t show up, that’s for sure.”

“My daughter was sick, Lorenzo. You know that. And as for Branch not inviting me, you know he couldn’t do that—I’m his boy.”

Lorenzo nodded in agreement, then hugged Terrance again, confirming the statement. “Oh yeah, I forgot,” he mumbled. This was his brother’s best friend, his favorite adversary and someone whom he’d always envied.

In actuality, Branch had reached out to Terrance at the last minute, insisted he show up and he’d done as he’d been told. In part, he’d made the trip because he really wanted to be there, but in a small way, he’d come because he did feel guilty about not attending the actual wedding.

Branch was aware of the difficulties he’d faced at the time and that was all that really mattered. He continued to make small talk with Lorenzo, his eyes unconsciously scanning the room.

Suddenly, he caught sight of Skye in one of the far corners laughing and talking with a somewhat quiet couple from Washington, D.C. and he swallowed hard. She sat at one end of a long sofa covered in Haitian cotton, one leg tucked under her. The white camisole top, white shorts and sandals she wore made him think of the wedding they were all there to celebrate for the second time. In his mind, the woman who sat across the room looked suspiciously like an advertisement for a bride in an extremely relaxed setting. Her ponytail and sandals reminded him of a casual dress rehearsal.

With an open magazine resting in her lap, she appeared poised and totally at ease. The two young women engaged in conversation to her right seemed oddly out of sync with the picture of serenity she presented. Anyone else in a similar setting would have appeared distant, aloof, incompatible. Skye simply appeared to be engrossed in the enormity of it all, unwilling to commit herself to any one grouping or sampling of those present. Looking up suddenly, her eyes met his across the room and his throat went dry. He swallowed, then tore his gaze away.

This was crazy. Insane. He’d only met her less than an hour ago. So what if she was beautiful? So what if she was apparently single? It didn’t matter, because the ink was not even dry on his divorce papers yet. In his mind, it should be months before he was free to actually pursue another relationship. Emotionally, he was a wreck and he knew it. The thought crossed his mind that this was not to be a relationship, it was merely an attraction, and he immediately relaxed.

Across the room, Skye felt herself warm under Terrance’s watchful gaze. He’d been staring at her from the time he’d entered the room. She knew she should have been flattered, but instead felt unnerved. Her reaction did not really make sense, even to her, so she continued to browse the magazine, though the articles were unintelligible. She looked up after a few moments, allowed her eyes to find him, and realized that he was still watching her. They made eye contact and Skye smiled slightly, not wanting to appear unfriendly.

Terrance needed no further reason to end his conversation with Lorenzo and, after clasping him in a quick breakaway embrace, made his way across the room.

“What’re you drinking?” Terrance called out as he walked toward her with ease. He waited for an answer, then turned toward the small bar their hosts had so thoughtfully set up. It held a full spectrum of spirits, wines and coolers, all encased in a cart which could be wheeled to another location. The wet bar, adjoined by a sink and mini refrigerator, had also been well stocked with ice, lemon slices, olives and two platters of hors d’oeuvres.

Skye watched his approach and wondered how far the flirtation would go. She vowed to be cordial, but careful. If her instincts were right, Terrance spelled trouble with a capital T.

“Oh, I don’t know. How about a wine spritzer?” she asked, wondering how he managed to look so cool, so clean, so calm when her nerves felt on edge just watching him.

“Sure thing—one white wine spritzer coming up. Anyone else want something?” Terrance asked, flashing a broad grin. To the others who were present, exchanging updates on the latest in their daily lives, he appeared his normal friendly self. No one would have suspected the rapid beat of his heart, the determination in his gait or the inner thoughts he repressed.

Skye’s eyes did not waiver as he finished pouring, mixing and adding ice to the drinks he mixed. He walked toward her, toasted her glass quickly and said, “To brides everywhere,” before he took the seat next to her. The statement was not lost on her and she swallowed deeply, taking in too much of her drink, which caused her to choke.

Skye coughed nervously, covered her mouth, then sipped again. She wanted to look at him but felt it would be too risky, so she continued to sip the drink.

“Are you okay?” he asked, wondering if he’d made the drink too strong. The combination of wine and club soda was not a potent combination, so he figured she had probably swallowed too quickly.

She placed the drink on the coffee table, coughed a little more, then stopped.

Skye decided to look at him directly, figuring if she just faced her fears, they would be easier to overcome. The awkward moment she’d just gotten though made her feel as if they shared something and she wondered if she was simply looking for a reason to bond with the man seated beside her. She lifted her eyes to his then, ready to face whatever challenge he offered.

It was a mistake. Her stomach lurched as she realized she wanted to touch his mustache, wanted to run her fingers across the broad planes of his chest, wanted to feel his lips against her own. She looked around her and was grateful that no one could possibly have noticed the inner turmoil she was experiencing. They were all engaged in friendly banter and the exchange of wedding day stories. It felt as if a cocoon of sorts had been woven around the two of them only, binding them together and closing out the world.

“Cat got your tongue?” Terrance asked, stretching long legs out before him. The pants he wore clung to his muscular thighs as if by design and Skye tore her eyes away reluctantly. Picking up her glass and bringing it up to her lips, she drained it quickly. She reached forward to put it on the coffee table again, then turned to him boldly.

“I’m from the school of minimalism. I don’t believe in doing anything idly and I especially don’t believe in chatter,” she replied with a slight toss of her head.

Terrance noticed the way her ponytail moved with the action and smiled. The defiant gesture was a surprise to him, but it registered that he’d no doubt just been issued a challenge.

“What’s the formality for? I just want to get to know you better.”

“Really? What for? Odds are we’ll never even see each other again. We live hundreds of miles from one another.”

“Hey, it doesn’t really matter where you live. Anywhere in the United States is just a hop, skip and a plane ride away from the Bahamas. I’ve got plenty of frequent flyer miles.”

“Really?” She wanted to say more, but did not feel comfortable encouraging the line of conversation, so she stopped herself.

“Yeah, and a two-or three-hour plane ride is just long enough for me to get a good nap, regain my composure and regain my strength,” he added, the implied meaning coming through instantly and with crystal clarity.

His eyes flashed in an unspoken conspiracy and Skye’s mind raced. When had he begun to flirt so openly with her? She wondered, for a quick moment, if she should get up and leave the area, then told herself they were both adults.

“I think you probably have overestimated your abilities,” she deadpanned. A moment of silence ensued and Skye wondered if she’d hit a sore spot. To try and soften her last statement, she turned to him casually, put on her best smile and tried to reestablish civility.

“So, what exactly do you do? Obviously you fly often,” she found herself saying, though she wanted to kick herself for asking something she already knew the answer to. Nita had mentioned he was a doctor in one of her recent stories about him.

“Yeah, actually I visit the States quite often. I also go back and forth to the Bahamas where my home is and sometimes abroad, to England. As a doctor I travel a lot,” he ended.

Terrance realized as he spoke that for some unknown reason, his body felt tense, almost as if he’d been on guard the entire time. They’d only been talking, laughing and sharing a wine spritzer, but he felt the effects as plainly as if they’d engaged in a battle of some sorts.

Now, with Skye’s glass empty, he realized he didn’t want her to drink anymore. He wanted to get to know her without the benefit of inebriation, without the assistance of anything or anyone. He also realized that if he ever did get to try and seduce her, he wanted them both lucid so that they would remember each and every detail, down to the most minute aspect. He recognized all of this in a split second, then excused himself and headed toward the kitchen. He wanted to end their interaction before anything negative could enter it, before he could spoil it in any way and before she could come to the conclusion that she no longer wanted to share his company.

Skye watched him walk away and smiled. “Punk,” she whispered under her breath.

Branch and Nita were both in the huge kitchen, each consumed with instructing their young kitchen helper, a teenager from the neighborhood. Though he had a decided and demonstrated knack for the preparation of simple, functional foods, it wasn’t easy to get him to do so in a timely fashion. Nina had purchased more food than would be necessary even if they were under a two-week siege.

The grill held several tilapia fillets, salmon steaks and at least two pounds of jumbo shrimp. On the other side, steak kabobs and delicately seasoned chicken breasts were also slowly cooking. Side dishes included potato salad, green beans almondine, and a salad of mixed greens tossed with lemon juice, garlic, extra-virgin olive oil and red onion cut into thin slices.

Terrance, who hadn’t eaten since morning, felt his stomach churn as he looked over the enticing party fare. “Damn, man, you sure know how to throw a dinner party.”

“Hey, don’t give me all the credit. Nita put her heart and soul into this gathering. Everything from the house being meticulously maintained, to the shrimp cocktail, is all her doing. Nita is on the money when it comes to handling this stuff. And that’s only one of the reasons I married this woman,” he added, throwing one arm possessively around her shoulders, drawing her close to him. He kissed her on the cheek, looked her in the eye and whispered, “I love you.”

Terrance watched the interplay between the two and thought of the conversation he and Brianna had just had. He had vowed to move forward with his life, hoping that she would do the same, but now knew that regret would probably accompany them both for years to come. He didn’t feel the need to revisit the marriage as she’d suggested. There was no compelling reason for them to try and rekindle their relationship except Jacqueline and, in his mind, she’d probably fare better with them being apart. He’d never believed the old adage of children growing up in a two-parent home; not if neither of the parties truly wanted to be there.

He wondered if Skye would understand his thinking, then realized that it didn’t matter. His burdens were his own. He vowed to get through the weekend without embarrassing himself but also wanted to do so without annoying any of the other guests.

In an effort to maintain that stance for the remainder of the evening, he kept his distance from Skye, doing everything in his power to remain outside her presence. It was all for naught because it only made him more acutely aware of her existence.

Somewhere around midnight, Terrance switched to martinis. He drank too much, laughed too loudly, and went to bed at two o’clock in the morning wondering how he’d make it through the remainder of the weekend.

Skye slept like a baby, dreaming about airplanes, blue skies and crystal clear water.

Awakening at her usual hour of 6:30 a.m., she put on orange running shorts, a white tank top and sneakers. Adjusting her earphones on her MP3 player, she hesitated, then put her cell phone into her pocket before she left the house. There were no signs that anyone else had arisen. The day was overcast, but it seemed as if it wouldn’t rain for several hours.

Thoughts of her job, her new condo and last night’s encounter rambled through her mind as she headed north on University Boulevard. She always did her best thinking as she covered the two miles she ran each morning. In her mind, today would be no different except for the route.

The busy boulevard hadn’t begun to be impregnated by its usual heavy traffic patterns early on a Saturday morning. Most of Fort Lauderdale’s residents were still asleep, others were still indoors, glad to put the former week solidly to bed.

After jogging for a few blocks, Skye crossed a large intersection, being careful to watch for any oncoming vehicles or turning cars. The curb was just in front of her and she made the mental calculation to step up higher to accommodate it. As she did so, her ankle twisted sharply, causing her to momentarily lose her balance. The pavement seemed to come up to meet her, and she braced her fall with her left hand. Her knee took the weight with the fall knocking the wind out of her diaphragm.

She came to a heap just outside the crosswalk, wondering if she’d broken a bone or anything else. Her ankle throbbed, her wrist hurt but her pride was even more injured. Looking around quickly, she realized no one had witnessed the fall and was grateful.

Willing herself to her feet, Skye realized she’d probably sprained the ankle as she made several attempts to put weight on it. The quarter mile she’d already run made it impossible for her to hobble back the same distance without difficulty.

Suddenly, she remembered she’d put her cell phone into the tiny pocket of the shorts. She reluctantly pulled it out. Lowering herself to a sitting position at the curbside, she dialed Nita’s number.

After two rings, Branch growled into the phone. “Yeah.”

Skye knew she’d probably never live it down but she had no choice. “Branch, I hate to wake you, but I need some help.”

“Skye? What’s the matter?” Obvious confusion could be heard in his voice and she wondered if anyone at all realized she’d left the house.

“Branch, I went jogging like I do every morning, only I tripped and fell.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell someone you were going out? Where are you?” he asked.

“I’m at the intersection of University and SW Sixth Street. I hate to ask, but could you come and get me with the car? I don’t think my ankle can support my weight right now,” she ended, her voice suddenly cracking.

“Yeah, sure. Don’t move. Stay right there. I’m on my way,” he said as he placed the phone into its cradle.

Nita turned over, flung an arm over his pillow and snuggled more deeply into the bedcovers. Branch watched her for a moment, thought of waking her, then walked toward his closet. He pulled on a pair of jeans, threw on the shirt he’d worn the night before and left the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him so as not to awaken his wife. She deserved to rest after playing hostess until two a.m.

He passed the kitchen, thought he heard a sound and looked into it. Terrance was standing over the sink, a glass of juice in one hand, bottle of Motrin in the other, looking very much like a train wreck.

“Damn, man. What happened to you?”

“Had a rough night, my man. What the hell are you doing up so early, dressed and looking as if you’re sneaking out?” Terrance’s questions were issued with a degree of real pain. Every effort he made to move his lips was rewarded with a quiver somewhere in his head and the Motrin he’d just swallowed had not yet begun to do its work.

“Dude, take a ride with me. One of our guests has had an accident and I’m the resident EMT.” It took a moment for the statement to register, then Terrance put the glass down.

“Sure, I’ll take the ride. Who the hell is dumb enough to be out this early in the morning though? Wait, don’t answer. Probably Lorenzo on his way to a beer run or some other self-serving errand,” he added as they walked toward Branch’s Escalade. The oversized vehicle looked formidable in the early-morning light, its black exterior adding class and elegance to a sports utility vehicle that ranked among the best.

“No, actually it was Skye. I take it she runs every morning at home. Probably figured she’d do it here but I think she fell or something. I don’t know—she just called and said she’s at an intersection about twelve blocks away.”

His words knocked the wind out of Terrance’s lungs and for a moment, he felt sick to his stomach. He wanted to ask several questions at once, then thought better of it. He’d know soon enough and in the interim, he didn’t want Branch to know that he was struggling with a growing interest in his wife’s best friend.

When they pulled up some moments later, Skye was still sitting at the curb, looking very much like a woman who’d made up her mind to run a marathon that morning. Wearing no makeup, hair pulled back into an uncombed ponytail, the orange shorts and white tank top bearing road dirt and grime, she still appeared to be serious about her sportsmanship. She also looked embarrassed.

Terrance and Branch walked toward her and Skye fought to keep the tears from coming. She hadn’t expected to cry but seeing the formidable rescue squad affected her sensibilities, confirming that without having had the cell phone, the outcome of a minor accident could have been much worse.

“Thanks for coming. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t answered,” she said as they stepped to either side of her.

“Stop thanking me. Nita would never forgive me if I don’t take good care of you. By the way, I didn’t try and wake her just now, knowing you’d be there soon enough to fill her in. I suspect she’s gonna give you hell for leaving the house without telling anybody though,” Branch said, a smile playing across his mouth.

He hadn’t meant to scold Skye, but was concerned that she’d left without telling anyone. In his mind, the weekend meant that all their guests were his responsibility until they were well on their way back home. Accidents aside, he wanted to avoid anything bad happening to anyone in their midst, especially without him knowing about it.

Terrance had remained silent until then. “Did you hurt any other part of your body?” he asked, pointing to her upper torso.

“My wrist hurts a little, but this ankle is killing me,” Skye answered quickly.