Reckless Pleasures Page 13

  Rest. A foreign word to him.

  He hefted his duffel and tossed it to the corner where it would stay untouched unless he needed something. He already had a call into command requesting administrative duty in Afghanistan until he could go full active. He didn’t expect to hear immediately, but was hoping word would come down soon. The faster he was out of here, the better.

  His cell vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out even as he stepped toward the kitchen sink and turned on the cold water full blast.

  Jason.

  He put the phone back in his pocket, ignoring the call along with the others his onetime friend had made over the past few days. He leaned against the sink and splashed water over his face several times, glad for the cold and its clarifying effects. He shut off the faucet.

  A knock at the door.

  Water dripping from his chin, he glanced in that direction. No one knew he was coming back. Even his parents thought he was still in Florida. A neighbor, maybe? The manager delivering the mail he’d held?

  He pulled the door open to find Jason standing there, his cell phone to his ear, its ringing coinciding with the incessant vibrating in his pocket.

  Jason closed the cell and dropped it to his side.

  “Hey,” he said.

  Dari wiped the water from his face. “Hey.”

  He turned from the door and went for the kitchen towel hanging next to the sink, mopping the remainder of water from his chin and hands.

  “You didn’t pick up my call.”

  “Yeah, well, had I known it was you at the door, I wouldn’t have answered that, either.” Dari turned toward him. “I just got here. How did you know I’d be home?”

  Jason stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Have you really so quickly forgotten the nature of the business we opened together?”

  Dari stared at him.

  “I knew the instant you got on that plane and the minute it arrived. I would have picked you up there, but I was afraid you might turn around and catch the next flight out.”

  “Your fear would have been justified.” Dari wadded the towel up in his hands. “What in the hell do you want?”

  “What in the hell do you think I want?”

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I had any idea what you’re doing here.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “I already told you—”

  “Christ, who knew you were the type to haul a boulder to hell and back without taking a breather?”

  “Who? You. At least you should have had you half been paying attention. Oh, wait. You hadn’t. You were too busy trying to back my girlfriend into bed.”

  “Low blow.”

  Dari knew it was. But, damn it, he was entitled to make a couple of jabs below the belt.

  “That’s not how it went down and you know it.”

  “Do I? Because I’m having an awfully hard time believing otherwise.”

  “Well, then, maybe you should step back and take another look.”

  Dari threw the towel toward the kitchen counter with so much force it took out a glass in the drainer. The sound of breaking glass filled the room. Not that he heard it over the roar in his ears. “I have taken another look. I’ve stared at the goddamn thing from every angle, and it still makes zero sense to me.”

  Jason advanced on him. Only this time, he was clear-eyed and determined, whereas in Florida, he’d been suffering a hangover. “Will you climb down off the cross already? We need the freakin’ wood.”

  Dari wanted to hit him so badly his knuckles itched.

  “What happened was unfortunate. It wasn’t a purposeful crime against you or anyone else.” His onetime friend seemed to have a death wish. “God, are you so stupid you can’t see how much the woman loves you?”

  Dari opened his mouth to respond.

  “I know what happened was wrong. Hell, we all do. But we can’t take it back. But we can move forward.”

  He paced a short ways away and then back again.

  “When you first met Megan, I remember being jealous. Not of you. I was jealous of her. Because she took a big chunk of your time away from me.”

  “Right.”

  Jason held up his hand. “Shut up until I’m done, will you?”

  Dari began to step forward then stopped.

  “I’ve watched you and Megan for the past two and a half years. Hell, until I saw the two of you together, I’d always thought love was a word. Oh, lust, passion, sex, I knew all those well. But love? Completely foreign.”

  Then why did you sleep with her? The words were on the tip of Dari’s tongue; exactly where they stayed.

  “I’ve never regretted anything else in my life, man,” Jason said quietly. “Not like I regret coming between the two of you.”

  Sincerity ran in his words. Dari was incapable of a worthy response. So he made none.

  “What I’m trying to say is…what in the hell are you doing? She loves you, Dar. And you obviously love her…”

  His words trailed off, the territory uncharted to him.

  “I asked her to marry me.” Dari wasn’t sure why he’d offered up that bit of humiliating info.

  He flinched at the memory, dropping to one knee and offering his soul up along with the heart he’d lost to her long ago.

  Remembering her tears—her gentle refusal that he’d believed was fear but now knew was guilt—felt like razor wire twisting through his gut.

  “Before or after?” Jason asked.

  “Before.”

  “Oh, hell…”

  “Do you really think I would have done it after?”

  Jason stared at him. “I think if you were smart, it’s exactly what you’d do.”

  Dari went to the door and opened it wide. “Get out.”

  Jason shook his head. “Fine. I’ll go.” He walked until he was parallel to him, but Dari refused to meet his gaze. “But it’s only for now. I’m not going to give up, man. You may have given up on me, on Megan. But I’m not going to. Not now. Not ever.”

  He walked through the door.

  Dari slammed it so forcefully it nearly rattled off the hinges.

  MEGAN LAY ACROSS HER BED, thinking about the past hour spent with her dad. It could have been the unexpected nature of her visit, or the ice cream, but she’d enjoyed time with him and was certain he’d felt the same.

  Why hadn’t she thought of doing something like that before? Why had they limited their contact to weekly phone calls and biweekly lunches?

  She recognized part of the reason was she found it all too easy to focus on the negatives of their relationship rather than the positives. Yes, her dad was traditional. And he would have liked her to be more like her ultrafeminine mother. But that didn’t mean he didn’t love her the way she was. In fact, she was coming to see that their similarities might allow for a closer connection than they’d have had if things had turned out the way he wanted. They had a lot in common. But at the same time, she was still—and always would be—his little girl.

  And she also saw that being feminine didn’t have to mean being weak.

  She logged onto her laptop even as she switched on the television and the DVD she’d been watching earlier. She had a new email message. She opened it up, smiling when she saw it was from Dorothy.

  I know this may sound odd, but I miss you! the young woman began.

  Megan missed her, as well. She’d never really had any female friends outside the military. But Dorothy and her little girl had touched a spot within her she hadn’t known existed. And that spot grew exponentially each time she thought of them both.

  Daisy says she misses you, too. I’ve included a photo of her I took earlier today.

  Megan scrolled down. There was little Daisy wearing one of her pretty dresses, her hands on the hem as if about to lift it and flash her undies.

  She laughed…until she spotted something else.

  There was a scarf tied around her tiny neck.

  A chill scurried up her spine. She scrolled
back up to the message, but no mention was made of the presence of the scarf. She scrambled for the remote, going back to the footage of when Finley was being carried out of the sheriff’s office, the blanket protecting her from camera view shifting, until…a scarf was revealed…

  21

  THE HOUSE ALWAYS seemed overly bright, as if the owner was trying to eradicate all darkness. As a result, there was no color, only a sterile whiteness that was nearly blinding.

  Dari was accustomed to this. His mother had always decorated in a like manner. White on white on white. Oh, she always knew the different shades of white, but to him it had always been white.

  And he’d always been overly cautious of smudging it. “Come in, come in!” his father said, enthusiastically patting him on the back. “Let’s go into the kitchen. I’ve been dying for an excuse to try out my new coffee blend on a willing victim.”

  “What about Mother?”

  “She doesn’t drink coffee. You know that.”

  No, his mother always drank tea. In a dainty cup.

  “Is she home?”

  “No, no. Tonight’s her monthly women’s-group meeting. She won’t be back for an hour or so.”

  Dari reflexively relaxed.

  He sat down at a stool next to the kitchen island, watching as his father readied the high-end coffee-maker and then turned around to face him.

  “I didn’t think we’d see you before you shipped out again.”

  Dari frowned. “I didn’t think you would either.”

  “You worked that missing-girl case in Florida?”

  “Somewhat.” If you could call what he did working. At any rate, it certainly wasn’t going to be what he remembered about the experience.

  “And Megan? How is she? Would have been nice to see her as well.”

  A vise tightened around Dari’s chest. “She couldn’t make it.”

  He couldn’t quite bring himself to tell his father that he and Megan were no longer together. If only because he’d have to explain why. And he couldn’t do that with any degree of objectivity. Not yet. Although he understood at some point, he’d have to.

  “So, you’re going back to Afghanistan.”

  “Actually, they’re sending me to a desk job in Iraq first. You know, until I heal.”

  He’d been adamant about accepting any post, getting out of the country as soon as he possibly could. He understood that his injury needed to heal. But right now, it was imperative that his broken heart started healing, too. And he had to be far, far away in order to do that.

  The coffee finished brewing and his father poured two cups, handing him one. He knew better than to request sugar or cream; his father’s concoctions were meant to be tried black.

  Dari sipped. Never having been a coffee connoisseur, he couldn’t tell the difference between this or any other cup of coffee, but he made the required sounds of approval.

  “Good, huh? Can you taste the hazelnut?”

  “Is that what it is?” He nodded. “I like it.”

  His father looked pleased and in the end, that’s all that mattered.

  Then again, his father always somehow managed to make the best out of a situation. Dari knew that from experience. As a kid he’d watched his dad suffer through his mom’s many depressions and “episodes,” as other family members on both sides liked to refer to them. The only thing holding them all together was Dad, sometimes simply by sheer force of will.

  “Dad? May I ask you something?”

  He looked surprised. “Sure, Darius. You don’t have to request permission.”

  Dari tried for a smile, but couldn’t quite swing it. “How could you stay with Mom after she was unfaithful to you?”

  Derek Folsom blinked at him, apparently incapable of words.

  “I’m sorry to just put it out there like that…”

  His father appeared to struggle with his response. “No, no. I, um, find with items of that nature, it’s always best to just, um, put it right out there.” He laughed without humor. “Actually, there really isn’t any other way, is there?”

  Dari shifted on his stool. “I guess what I’m trying to say is…you’re so strong in every other area of your life. You retired from the military, started your own business and became very successful. You’ve won nearly every business and civic award out there…”

  His father frowned into his coffee. Dari wasn’t big on having ruined his special blend for him.

  “And yet you allowed a woman to turn you into a cuckold.”

  Derek flinched and then sat quietly for long moments. Dari considered retracting the question. Apologizing for having posed it. But he needed the answer. Needed to apply it to his own situation. Perhaps to verify he was doing the right thing.

  “Is that what you think?” Derek asked, squinting at him. “That your mother did me wrong?”

  “Is there really any other way to see it?”

  His father leaned back. “Yes. Yes, there is. You can see the truth.”

  “I know the truth. I lived it. Remember?”

  “No, son,” he said quietly. “You know what other family members thought they knew.”

  Silence.

  Then finally Dari prompted, “I’m listening.”

  “I know you are. It’s just I’m having a hard time coming up with the words to explain it to you.”

  He couldn’t possibly imagine anything his father could tell him would alter his perception of the situation. Was his dad still covering for his mother? He suspected he was.

  “You see, back when we first met, your mother and I…I was dating someone else…”

  Dari raised his brows. This went back that far?

  “I loved Patricia. And she loved me. But we had a volatile relationship—one month on, two months off. That sort of thing…” He trailed off and an almost wistful expression took hold of his face. One that made him look twenty years younger. “Then I met your mom…”

  Dari’s hands tightened on his coffee cup.

  “She was everything a woman was supposed to be and I fell in love with her instantly.”

  He couldn’t quite see where this was leading.

  “The problem was, I never fell out of love with Patricia. In fact, I never fell out of love with her, period.”

  Dari stared at him. “Are you saying… You can’t possibly mean…”

  “Yes. Over the years I continued to see Patricia. Even as your mom and I dated, married, had you…”

  Dari winced. “Mom knew?”

  “On occasion, yes. Mostly I protected her from it.”

  He couldn’t have been surprised more had his dad told him he wasn’t his biological son. “Are you serious?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. I’m completely serious.”

  Dari tried to digest what he’d been told. His father had been in love with another woman for the entire length of his relationship with his mother. “So that’s why Mom…”

  His father nodded. Then he blew out a long breath, looking more his age again. “I tried. I really did. You know, to stay loyal to your mother.”

  “Do you love Patricia more?”

  “What? No.” He sat back. “You see, I loved them both.”

  “You say that as in past tense.”

  He nodded. “Yes. You see, I lost Patricia to breast cancer four years ago.”

  Dari’s head spun from the shock of it all.

  “Funny thing is, your mother was the strongest out of all of us. She actually took her in here. You were still serving back then. All you knew was that your mom had a friend staying…”

  Dari remembered the conversations with his mother. He’d had no cause to think circumstances were any different than what she represented.

  “Patricia and I never had children. Your mom and I were lucky to have had you. I…I, um, took you to see Patricia a couple of times when you were younger. Not that you’d remember. But I was afraid Patricia would grow attached and…well, that wasn’t a good idea.”

  “Why?” Dari as
ked. “Why did you do it?”

  “Love,” his father said simply.

  Dari was dumbfounded.

  “You see, son, there are certain things you come to learn in life. One of them is, ‘Love isn’t about who you can live with, it’s about who you can’t live without.’ It so happened that I had two beautiful women that fit that description.”

  “I don’t quite know what to say…”

  All these years he’d blamed his mother. He’d thought her the unfaithful one. And, yes, while she’d gone outside the marriage, he thought he somewhat understood why she had now.

  “Trust me, if I could go back and do everything differently…” He drew a deep breath. “Then again, no. I wouldn’t change a thing. I loved loving both your mother and Patricia. But I do know it wasn’t fair to either of them. Patricia was never able to find love with anyone else. And your mother…well, we both know all too well what happened there.” He swallowed hard, the sound loud in the quiet room. “Thankfully she’s been able to find a patch of peace now that Patricia’s gone. And I think she also reached an understanding of sorts while she cared for her. Still, there’s not a day that goes by I don’t regret hurting them both.”

  In Dari’s eyes, his father had always been the wronged one. Not the one doing wrong.

  “Do you love Megan?” his father asked.

  Dari drew back.

  “Stupid question. I know you love her. Well, then, let me give you this bit of advice, son. You know, if I’m still entitled to do so.”

  He wasn’t sure who was entitled to what just then, but Dari gestured for his dad to continue.

  “If you love her, hang on to her. Don’t let go and go on to love someone else. Because if it’s one lesson I learned it’s that love…true love…it doesn’t stop because you will it to. It continues to go on and on.”

  Dari’s heart contracted in his chest at the thought that he’d always feel this pain. This total inability to feel anything else. “But isn’t it possible for that love to be destroyed?”

  His father shook his head. “No. Not permanently. Oh, you may believe it’s possible. You can do everything within your power to make it so. But I learned the hard way that unconditional love is…well, truly unconditional.”