Fighting the Undertow Read online

  “I’ll convey your compliments to the gardener.” With that, Deidre led Jon toward a table draped with a black cloth.

  Ian lagged behind, balking at his father’s impatient command to join his mother.

  “Do join us, Ian. Taking part in a small ceremony to honor your brother is hardly an odious burden.” Deidre stopped in front of the table, which was covered with framed photos of Kevin and numerous athletic trophies.

  Guests had begun to cluster around the outer reaches of the patio, no doubt familiar with this birthday ritual. Sensing the potential for a family scene of epic proportions, Val stepped forward to stand beside Deidre. Jon seized the opportunity to join his brother, who stood several yards back from the makeshift altar.

  “Mrs. Winters, I’m sorry to intrude. Perhaps it’s best to let Ian grieve in his own way. I’d be honored to stand beside you while you remember your son.”

  With a sea of tuxedos and evening gowns clustering close around them, Val suspected Deidre wouldn’t make a scene.

  “Of course. Thank you for your kind offer.” Her stance rigid, Deidre gestured for Benjamin to join her, and she didn’t protest when Jon hung back beside Ian.

  “Please join us in remembering our son.” Benjamin’s words were delivered with the familiarity of years of practice.

  During the moment of silence, Val studied the array of trophies, the baby pictures, Kevin’s graduation portrait, and the most recent, a photo of the three brothers seated at a boardroom table with their father. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as energy gathered around her.

  Shivering with apprehension, she watched the memorial candle in the center of the table flicker in the breeze. Four unlit candles stood in ornate holders, and she guessed in the past it had been the duty of each family member to light one.

  Before she could wonder how the Winters would handle the fact that Ian and Jon had chosen not to step forward and light their candles this year, Deidre raised her hand to reach for the center candle. A blistering gust of wind set the black tablecloth flapping, and the memorial candle teetered before plunging onto the table.

  Horrified, Val tried to process the flaming altar, the cries of servants as they swooped in with fire extinguishers, the expression of stunned amazement and horror on Deidre’s face as her husband led her into the house, and the flutter of jeweled gowns as guests drifted away from the patio.

  “That wasn’t nice, Kevin.” Val stood apart from the others, scanning the crowd in search of the Scotts. “Whatever she may have done, however poorly she treats Ian, she didn’t deserve that.”

  “You’re talking to yourself, Miss Vee.” Ian looked shaken as he draped an arm around her back. “Kevin’s work?”

  She nodded. “You couldn’t tell he was here? I felt him lurking near us from the moment we stepped out of the car. He seemed protective of you.” And not very keen on his mom.

  “No. I didn’t think he ever came here.” Ian dragged his hand across his head, restoring his hair to its usual windblown disarray. “Let’s say good night to Jon and head back to the cottage.”

  They walked across the lawn in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Val couldn’t fathom why Kevin had connected with her tonight. But then, who was she to try to analyze a ghost? As they approached Jon, Ian extended his palms upright and shook his head, though Val couldn’t decide if he was asking his brother for a truce or commenting on the disastrous evening.

  “Mom’s lying down in the parlor, and I doubt she’ll make another appearance.” Jon looked at least half as weary as Ian. “I filched a bottle of Scotch, if you want to join me for a stiff drink.”

  For the next hour, they passed around the bottle of Scotch, pouring shots into empty champagne glasses. Ian seemed intent on drinking enough for both of them, so Val appointed herself designated driver and abstained. The Scotts joined them after a while, and they shared a wealth of stories about Ian, Abby, and Tyler as teens.

  As they were leaving, Ian weaving along unsteadily beside Jon, Julie Ellen pulled Val aside.

  “If you need to, call Tyler and Abby. They’ll drive down from Boston if Ian needs them tonight. And remember, Nathan and Jeremy are only twenty minutes away from the beach house. Jeremy’s got a way of reaching that boy when no one else can.”

  Val nodded, wondering how dark Ian’s moods could get to merit that much concern from Julie Ellen.

  After they said good night to the Scotts, Jon helped Val settle Ian in the passenger seat. “Don’t let him puke in the ’vette. He’ll be loaning it to me again until he heads back to Boston.” To Val’s surprise, Jon kissed her cheek. “Stick around, Vee. I’ve never seen anyone handle my mother like you did tonight. Impressed the hell out of me.”

  For the first half of the drive back to Gulls’ Harbor, Ian snored softly beside her. Her gown smelled like smoke from the incident with the altar, and Ian stank of Scotch. As she rolled the window down a few inches, she wished the top was down despite the cool evening wind.

  “Pull over.”

  Detecting an urgent note in his request, she pulled onto the grassy shoulder. Fumbling with his seat belt, Ian cursed under his breath, and she reached past him to open his door. As she waited in the driver’s seat, she listened to the sound of him vomiting in the bushes.

  When he returned to the car, she handed him the bottle of water she’d brought along for the ride. “Rinse your mouth. You’ll feel better.”

  As she watched him struggle to open the bottle, it struck her that even at this moment, with Ian at his worst, she was falling in love with him. Her heart whimpered at the thought of leaving.

  “You’re one pathetic Prince Charming, Mr. Winters.” She waited for him to buckle his seat belt before pulling back onto the highway.

  “And you’re one resourceful Cinderella, Miss Vee.” He chuckled hoarsely. “I’ve never seen anyone stand up to my mother before. When I refused to participate in that damn farce of a memorial, and you backed me up, I expected all hell to break loose. Just didn’t expect Kevin to turn into an angel of wrath.”

  When his laughter took on a note of hysteria, she soothed her hand over his trembling chest. “Do you want me to call Abby and Tyler? Or Jeremy and Nathan?” She felt around for her purse and started to take out her cell phone.

  Jeremy would have been the last person she’d call in a crisis, but Tyler’s mother seemed convinced he could help Ian when others failed, and Val was willing to take her word for it.

  “No. Look, there’s an old service road up ahead, just after the sign for Gulls’ Harbor. Could you pull in there?”

  “Sure.” She squinted, searching for signs of an exit, but even with the high beams on, the light barely penetrated the velvet darkness of the rural road.

  “There.” As he pointed to a gap in the brush, she slowed and swung the car off the road.

  Ian staggered out of the car as soon as she turned off the engine, and she let him have a few minutes alone, pacing off his energy at the edge of the woods. After she switched off the headlights, it took a while for her eyes to adjust to the dark. A half-moon shone through the trees, but it didn’t provide much light.

  At the cry of some night creature, she decided this was the perfect setting for a horror movie. A serial murderer wielding an ax would burst from the woods, hack Ian to bits as she watched, then descend on her. Her heart rate sped up in an irrational response to the thought, and when she turned to check on Ian, Kevin was sitting beside her in the passenger seat.

  “Damn, don’t frighten me like that!” By the time her breath caught up with her galloping heartbeat, she figured out he’d come because she’d been afraid.

  “Abby warned me you might be protective if you liked me. Wish I’d taken her more seriously.” She shook her head. “I’ve not only fallen into a relationship I wasn’t looking for, I seem to have befriended a ghost.”

  “Val?” As Ian approached the car, Kevin’s outline flickered and then vanished.

  “Hey, how are you feeling
?”

  “I’ve sobered up just enough to be embarrassed as hell. I don’t drink much, not since Kevin…” He shook his head. “Anyway, I should know better than to down more Scotch than I can handle.”

  “Nobler men than you have puked in the bushes on occasion, Mr. Winters.” She kicked off her high heels, climbed out of the car, and picked her way across the damp grass and tire ruts to join him. “I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you for the lapse in gallantry.”

  “It was never me, Val. Never me, and never Jon.”

  Struggling to catch up with the leap in the conversation, she wondered if he was more intoxicated than she’d thought.

  “From the start, he was her favorite.” Ian leaned back against the car, weaving his fingers tightly with Val’s. “Her golden boy, the middle child, the sweet, docile one.”

  With a choking sound, he continued. “She’d spend so much time with him in the parlor, playing the piano, reading, or just sitting beside him on the sofa. Said Jon and I had no patience for anything that didn’t involve running and screaming.”

  “She and dad married for convenience. His money and hers, a perfect union. Separate beds, and they never talked much. But she’d talk to Kevin. Whisper secrets in his ear, talk to him about her childhood, her hopes and dreams…”

  “Ian, are you sure you want to tell me this?” The therapist in her knew he needed to talk, but she also knew he might regret it later.

  He ignored her question, staring into the dark shadows of the evergreens. The night smelled like pine and salt, the ocean breeze reaching them even this far inland.

  “I don’t know when Jon and I figured out what went on between them. Kevin never said anything.”

  With a sinking feeling, she realized what he meant. As a therapist, she shouldn’t be shocked. But she’d never expected to hear something like this from Ian. Someone she not only knew, but loved.

  “Ian?” She stepped in front of him and rested her hands on his hips.

  She couldn’t see the pale green of his eyes in the moonlight, but her eyes had adjusted enough to take in the strong lines of his shoulders, his slender hips, and the slope of his tightly muscled thighs. He’d tugged the knot of his tie loose, and it hung limply around his neck, outlined by the starched white of his shirt. When she reached up to cup her hand against his face, his cheek was wet.

  “When he was twelve, he moved into my room with me, looking for protection. I heard him cry out sometimes in his dreams, but I don’t think she ever got to him again after that.”

  Val leaned forward, resting her head against his chest.

  Ian cleared his throat. “If it had been me, I think I’d have burned down the whole goddamn house, not just that fucking altar of hers.”

  Trying to steady herself, she listened to the sound of crickets and the rustle of wind through the trees. With all the horror stories she’d heard over the years, nothing had ever touched her like this. The weight of his family’s darkest secret sat heavily with her, but she still had no idea why his mother blamed him for Kevin’s death. Or why he blamed himself.

  “Val?” Brushing his palm across the bodice of her dress, he buried his head in her hair.

  “Yes. It’s okay.” If he needed the comfort of a warm body, she hoped it would be enough. “I wish I could say something to help, I’m trained to deal with situations like this, but tonight…”

  “Shh. I want to fuck Miss Vee, not Valerie the shrink.”

  As she smothered a laugh against his chest, he lifted her onto the hood of the car. He slid her gown up her thighs and her pantyhose and thong down around her ankles, then laid her back and nudged her knees apart. The warmth of the engine felt good against her back, but goose bumps formed on her stomach as the damp June breeze brushed across bare skin.

  She watched as Ian struggled with his belt buckle and shoved his pants and briefs down around his ankles. That accomplished, he trailed a line of kisses down the center of her belly, his lips soft and warm on her skin. Beyond that, she knew tonight wouldn’t be about gentle caresses. She felt his need like a hungry animal, pressing against her consciousness. He gripped her thighs before entering her, his fingers digging into her flesh.

  Murmuring something that sounded like “I’m sorry,” he drove into her with a ferocity that might have been frightening under other circumstances. Tonight, she recognized the intensity as grief and braced herself to meet his thrusts.

  She could smell him. Sweat, Scotch, and a hint of fear. As she arched to allow him deeper access, he choked back a sob. She raised herself on her elbows and reached for his arms, urging him to rest his weight on her.

  When he did, she cradled his face in her hands, stroking her fingers over his damp cheeks. He lowered his face to bite her neck, his teeth sharp against her skin, and she locked her hands behind his back, pulling him closer.

  Her legs ached as he nudged them wider still, and the hood of the car pressed uncomfortably into the ridges of her spine. But with the sounds of the night around them, and Ian’s fingers tangled in her hair, her body responded to the urgency of his rhythm. She cried out, hungry to relieve the clenching, aching need that penetrated every nerve in her body.

  With his next thrust, her body tightened to the point of pain, straining under him, then released in an explosion of color, heat, and sensation. Her thighs, already slick with sweat, were covered with her own fluids. Ian slid in and out of her without friction so rapidly she cried out when his weight struck her pubic bone.

  “Valerie.” His voice seemed to echo off the trees, curving back to caress her as he tensed, dug his fingers into her shoulders, and shuddered as he came.

  They lay panting together, spent and reluctant to break the quiet connection they shared. She brushed her palm across his face, and he captured her finger and suckled like a hungry puppy. When he finally stood, breathtakingly beautiful in the light of the moon, he rested his hands on her thighs.

  “Jesus, I’m sorry. I didn’t think.” He trailed a finger through the sticky fluids coating her inner thighs.

  “It’s okay, I’m on the Pill. I never bothered to go off after…” She shrugged, unwilling to summon the ghosts of relationships past.

  “I swear, I’ve never done this without a condom. Not even with Lisa. All of us, we’re so careful…”

  “Ian, it’s okay. I believe you. You’re healthy. I’m healthy. We got carried away. It happens.”

  Struggling to sit up, she nearly slid off the hood of the car. She suspected he’d been about to blurt out more about the “all of us” bit. She didn’t want to hear the details of his interactions with his friends when he’d been drinking and would be likely to regret telling her later.

  He caught her hips and lifted her down gently, cupping his hands under the curves of her ass to press her against him. They stood like that for a few minutes, holding each other until their breathing steadied, and then he pulled up her thong for her and helped her straighten her gown. She opted not to bother with the pantyhose. As she crumpled the sweaty nylons into a ball, Ian wrestled his pants back into place.

  “Come on, Prince Charming, let’s get you home and into bed.” She slid into the driver’s seat. “You know, in fairy tales, you never hear about the princess trying to explain the stains in her gown at the dry cleaners the next day.”

  His laughter shook through him, loose and free, as he settled beside her. She might not be able to heal him, or wipe away the past, but at least she could make him laugh.

  Chapter Seven

  “I’m saying you should have called! Ian was upset, and we could have helped.” Jeremy plunked a can of tuna down on the counter with more force than strictly necessary.

  “I’m in the room, in case you’ve forgotten.” Not in the mood for squabbling before lunch, Ian scowled at Jeremy, then Val. “I didn’t want to call anyone, though Val offered.”

  Pausing to grab the lettuce from the fridge, he looked to Val for support. “Jeremy doesn’t seem inclined to let t
his drop, but a one-man argument doesn’t carry well. For the sake of peace, will you declare a cease-fire until after lunch?”

  As she glowered across the room at Jeremy from where she sat on the window seat, Val squared her shoulders in a rigid line of defiance. “I didn’t start this, but Jeremy has to realize I’m as capable as he is of supporting you in the aftermath of an uncomfortable family event.” Meeting Jeremy’s glare, she folded her arms across her chest.

  Ian rolled his head to loosen the tight spots in his neck and turned to Abby, hands extended in a silent plea for her to negotiate a truce between Jeremy and Val so they could get on with lunch, and he could get back to his damn book.

  “Interesting euphemism, ‘uncomfortable family event.’ I’d call it horrific, from what I’ve heard. Bottom line, I’m guessing things wouldn’t be quite so tense right now if Jeremy hadn’t made a pass at Val this morning.” Cool as an ocean breeze in her blue halter top, Abby raised an eyebrow as a pink stain spread from Val’s neck to her cheeks.

  “He’s apologized for that.” Nathan moved behind Jeremy at the counter, wound a dark thatch of hair around his fingers, and tugged. “And he’d do well to remember that if he wants to befriend the pretty lady, it wouldn’t hurt to play nice.”

  Nathan released Jeremy’s hair and dodged the dish towel Ian tossed at his head. Ian scowled as his tension blossomed into a full-blown headache. Jeremy and Val had been at each other for hours now. Hell, he’d half expected Val to grab the nearest sharp object and give Jeremy a refresher course in neutering after he’d propositioned her.

  At least breakfast with the Scotts had gone off without a hitch. Julie Ellen seemed ready to adopt Val and had offered to help her find work in the area. Better yet, Val seemed to feel at home in the Scotts’ huge house, with its walls of custom-designed windows and Julie Ellen’s spacious art galleries. At least, she didn’t object to wealth on principle.

  “Look, I’ve got to get back anyway. I’ll bow out and leave you to a peaceful lunch.” Brushing a few creases out of her Bermuda shorts, as if she could bring order to the morning as easily as she could straighten her clothes, Val picked up her purse and moved toward the door. “I’ve got a pile of cover letters I’ve got to send out before I work this afternoon.”