It was a candid shot of Emily and her husband, Rick. A big guy with a big heart and an even bigger laugh, he and Beck had been friends since they were kids. Five years ago, Rick had taken his motorcycle for a spin and missed one of the bends on River Road. His injuries were severe, and he’d been in a vegetative state ever since. Currently, Rick was a patient in a specialized wing at the hospital, where he’d been since not long after his accident.
Emily loved her husband. Of that there was no doubt. And this thing between them? It was only physical. It’s why it worked for him.
Beck pushed open the doors and walked onto the back deck. The yard was private and dark, with several candles set on the table to his right, and to his left was the hot tub.
“That was fast,” Emily Davenport said softly.
“I was at the Coach House.”
“Hockey?”
“Yeah.”
She moved closer to him, rising above the edge of the hot tub until her breasts were visible. The ends of Emily’s long blonde hair were damp and clung to her skin, and as the night air met her heated flesh, her nipples pebbled.
“You coming in?” She sank back into the steaming water.
Beck finished his beer, got undressed, and tossed his clothes on the table. He slid into the hot water and sank back, instantly feeling some of that tension leave him. The two of them sat in the hot tub for several minutes without speaking, or touching, or anything really. They s
tared up into the midnight sky and let the silence wrap them up in the kind of comfort they gave each other. A familiarity born from pain, and an understanding no one else they knew had.
“How’s the house coming along?” Emily moved closer, her big blue eyes half-lidded from the heat and the half-empty bottle of wine on the side of the tub.
“I should finish soon,” he said, watching her closely.
“Did you have a good Christmas?”
“It was the same as always.”
“I hear ya there. Sometimes I feel like nothing is ever going to change.” She reached for her wineglass, but it was empty. Instead of filling it up, she moved toward Beck and straddled him.
“I’ve missed you. It’s been a while.”
“I’ve been busy.”
She held his gaze for several seconds. “Yeah. I know.” Her mouth slid over his, and before long, he was inside her. This wasn’t making love. There were no long, tender moments. This was about fulfilling a need. A need that changed from time to time. Sometimes, it was about not being alone. Other times, like tonight, it was about the kind of release he could only get through sex.
They had no label for what they were doing, but it had worked for four years. Yet tonight, something was off. And it bothered Beck, because he couldn’t put his finger on it. As he stepped out of the hot tub, she sank back into the water.
“Aren’t you going to stay?” It was something he usually did, though he was up and out of her bed before dawn.
Beck reached for his clothes and pulled on his shirt. He shook his head. “I’ve got a kitten to get back to.”
“A what?”
He heard her surprise.
“I found a kitten in my truck, and she’s little, so I need to get back to her.”
He wasn’t sure if Emily believed him or not, but she didn’t say anything. Didn’t throw a fit or start a fight. Another reason this worked. She never questioned anything, and neither did he.
Once he was dressed, Beck paused, that off-kilter feeling still banging around inside him. “You okay?” he asked quietly, turning back to her.
She shrugged, that sad smile he’d grown used to in place. “I’m never okay, but it’s something I’ve learned to live with. Same as you.” She reached for the wine bottle and topped up her glass. “You sure you don’t want to stay?”
Something in her voice got to him, and he paused. “Do you need me to?”
The jets kicked in, and she sighed, sinking deeper into the water. “No. I’m being silly. It’s the wine. Go home to your kitty, Beck. I’ll see you around.” She closed her eyes, and he headed out, closing the door quietly behind him.