Chapter Six
Grady waited two weeks after that near-fatal flight home before he visited the cemetery. With him, he brought a handful of Amy’s favorite flowers.
He’d played the Houston trip over in his mind a thousand times. There were so many things he could’ve done differently, should’ve done differently. He wasn’t proud of himself, and he wasn’t satisfied with how things had turned out. B.J. might’ve pressured him into doing something he hadn’t felt ready for, but he’d done it under his own free will and even instigated a good portion of it. He didn’t need to feel any kind of anger toward her for that.
But he did.
Then she’d turned around and saved his life the next morning, keeping her head under pressure and landing them safely. If she’d kissed him a second longer after landing, he would’ve overcome his shock and kissed her back. Hell, he probably would’ve taken her right there in the cockpit. And it wouldn’t have had anything to do with gratitude either.
“I guess you already know what I did,” he said without preamble, setting the irises at the base of his wife’s marker and kneeling down to sit on the grass beside the bouquet.
He gave a small laugh as he looked at his hands. “Yeah, you always knew what I did, usually before I was even going to do it.” Grinning, he lifted his face and stared at the name of his wife on the gravestone. “Remember when I proposed? You were holding out your hand for the ring before I’d even gotten down on one knee.”
Grady smiled for a good three seconds before his face fell and his muscles tensed in misery. Dropping his gaze from the name that always caused him heartache, he caught sight of a weed and pulled it up. Amy didn’t deserve weeds growing over her dead body.
“The funny thing is,” he confessed as he reached for another, “I didn’t feel guilty. Not during, anyway.”
Tossing the weed away from Amy’s plot, he lifted his face toward the bright day and squinted at the sunlight. For some reason, he wondered if B.J. was up there somewhere, cruising through the clouds in that death trap of hers. God, he hoped she’d fixed the fuel line.
Jerking his gaze guiltily from the sky, he turned back to Amy’s name.
“I always thought it’d feel different than this. I thought, I don’t know...I just assumed I’d think of you the whole time...that’d I have to close my eyes and pretend it was your lips I was kissing, your body I was touching.”
He shook his head and lowered his gaze, ashamed. “But I didn’t even remember you. Not till afterward.” Letting out a long sigh, he closed his eyes and confessed, “And that’s when the guilt finally came.
“I know I didn’t betray you,” he said after a moment of silence. “You’d want me to move on. And I know you’d even approve of the woman. You always liked…” He couldn’t say her name aloud, so he settled with, “her. But, God, I don’t know, Amy.”
Pausing, he wondered why he was confessing all this to someone who couldn’t hear him. Probably because she couldn’t hear him, he decided.
“I feel bad because I didn’t picture you at all through any of it. I didn’t think of how you—hell, I wasn’t thinking at all. And that’s not me. You know that’s not me. As soon as she touched me, my mind just shut down. I lost control of myself like I’d never lost control before. I just...I had to have her...right then.”
He winced when he whispered, “That never happened with you. I think that’s what bothers me most. I experienced something strong and intense with someone else and...it should’ve been you.”
He cradled his head in his hands. “I’m not sure what I’m trying to say. I guess, I’m sorry. I’m all tore up because I felt something...something amazing, and it wasn’t because of you. You had nothing to do with it. Well, okay, it all started because we were fighting about you, but...as soon as the clothes came off, you were completely erased from my mind. I was so mad and desperate I would’ve done anything to get inside her. And I can’t even say it was just about sex. It was her.
“I hate to admit this, but if you’d walked into the room at that moment, I still would’ve wanted her.”
He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “That’s what has me feeling so crappy. I wanted a person...a specific woman, not just some warm body to fill the space you left. For the first time in two and half years, it wasn’t about you.
“Yeah. If you were here now, you’d be giving me a lecture, I know. You’d be happy I made a big step with moving on...and you’d be mad because I haven’t called her.”
He shut his eyes and rested his back against the gravestone. “I know I should call or go see her...or something. I’m not a one-night stand kind of person, and I’m not going to be. But damn it, Amy, I’m scared to death. That woman intimidates me. She makes me want things, feel things...things I never felt or wanted with you. I lose my head when I’m around her, and I don’t know how to deal with that. You always let me be my logical self, go my slow, methodical pace. She doesn’t. I can’t talk to her or look at her. I’m just...I’m not ready yet.”
Nothing answered his troubled report but a light breeze that sifted through his hair. He smiled lightly, keeping his eyes closed, and imagined it was Amy’s fingers. But then he frowned. He couldn’t remember what his wife’s touch felt like. Instead, he remembered a brown-haired wildcat who cursed like a sailor when she came apart in his arms. Frowning, he fisted his hands in the grass and wished for things that could never happen.
He wanted his wife back. He wanted his safe, comfortable, predictable Amy. He wanted to shred her tombstone with his bare hands and dig out her body so he could grab her by the shoulders and shake her back to life if for no other reason than to just talk to her.
He and Amy had been inseparable since their freshman year of high school when they’d first started dating. Not only had the woman become his wife and lover, but she was the best friend he’d ever had. They’d talked about and shared everything.
If Amy were here, she’d know what to do concerning B.J. She’d be honest and tell him how to handle everything. But then, if Amy were here and still alive, there’d be no issue with the tomboy to resolve.
That thought caused his breath to hitch in his chest.
As much as he regretted ever being with smart-mouthed B.J. Gilmore, he still relished those few minutes they’d shared in her hotel room. At the twinge of guilt rippling through him, he lifted his hand to the center of his chest and rubbed, because the pain was actually physical. The agony ate at him, and he couldn’t deny the truth.
No matter how much he missed his wife and wanted her back, deep down, he was secretly glad she’d been out of the way so he could experience a taste of B.J., because nothing had ever been as good as sliding inside her. Those few minutes she’d wrapped her legs around him had been hotter than all the years he’d spent with Amy.
Lowering his head, he buried his face in his hands and shuddered. “I’m so sorry.”
****
Three weeks after sleeping with Grady, B.J. still felt awful about what she’d done. She figured she should do something to show her regret, make it up to him somehow. But she’d already apologized, and that was a record for her. Besides, she never saw the man much anyway. Maybe she should just leave it alone and forget it had happened...except she would dream about their time together and wake in the middle of the night, aching.
She’d flop on her back and curse at the ceiling. There definitely had to be something wrong with her if she got off on making good men like Grady Rawlings suffer.
So, she tried to ignore the situation and act like it wasn’t happening. That didn’t work either. Though they lived in the same small community, they usually didn’t spot hide nor hair of each other for months at a time. But B.J. knew she was cursed when she saw him three times in that third week. The first instance, she’d seen him retreating as she’d stepped from the post office. He’d hightailed it out of there like he’d seen her inside and was escaping before they could cross paths.
Since he was trying the whole evade-and-ignore remedy, she did the identical thing back to him the second time around. She’d been about to go into the hardware store to order new parts for her airplane when she saw him standing at the checkout counter, getting something for his oil rigs, no doubt. Screeching to a halt, she immediately changed course and darted around a corner, lurking there until she saw him leave the store and cross the street.
The third time, however, she wasn’t so lucky and couldn’t avoid a...collision of sorts. She was in the diner, chowing down on some breakfast, when she caught sight of him through the window striding toward the entrance. Eyes going wide, she deserted her bacon and eggs and flew out of her stall. He was almost to the café, and there was no way she could leave without bumping into him, so she ducked around the corner, fully intent on hiding in the hallway to the bathrooms until he left.
She knew exactly when he entered, because the air in the building changed. Not only did the bell above the door ding announcing a new arrival, but all talk fell dead, and even the clinking of silverware paused.
Sal, the waitress, was finally kind enough to say, “Well, howdy there, Grady. What can I get you today?”
B.J. made a growling face, wanting to defend him. No wonder the poor guy had reverted into himself, turning all quiet and solitary. Everyone treated him like a freak. Don’t go near that Grady Rawlings. Widowhood might be contagious.
She frowned and then clenched her teeth when she heard him go and order a full meal. Damn, she mouthed. She’d have to hide until he was done. Sal would probably clear her breakfast away and complain about her dining and dashing.
But B.J. didn’t care. She was prepared to stay right where she was for as long as it took. Until Ralphie Smardo ruined it all.
The brainless doofus opened his big trap and started talking. He’d come into the café about the same time as her, and he’d gone to sit at the counter with a couple of other bachelors. And as soon as he sat down, he immediately started complaining about his old lady.
The boy was all bent out of shape because he and Nan were having trouble in the bedroom. According to him, she was bored, claiming he wasn’t fun and adventuresome.
“Now, I can be just as adventurous as the next guy,” he whined.
From her hiding spot, B.J. rolled her eyes. If Ralphie’s form of adventuresome was grunting out, “Hold onto somethin’,” for foreplay then, sure, he was one wild boy.
“Why, just a couple years ago, B.J. and I…”
In the hallway, B.J. froze and felt the blood drain from her head. What the hell? Why was he mentioning her name in the middle of his sexual exploits? If he splurged a single detail about their one time together, she was going to murder him slowly and painfully.
Straining to hear what he was going to blab about her, she jumped when he hollered, “Hey, B.J.!”
She closed her eyes and then covered them for good measure.
“Where’d she go?” she heard Ralphie say. “I coulda swore she came in here the same time I did.”
B.J. shook her head sadly. Yep, she was going to kill him.
“I think she headed toward the john a few minutes ago,” Sal answered.
B.J. sank further into the shadows of the hall. But it didn’t help, because suddenly there was Ralphie poking his big, dumb head around the corner.
“Hey, B.J.,” he hollered.
“What?” she snapped and gritted her teeth as she moved out of the hallway, brushing past him and storming back to her booth where, thank God, her breakfast still sat waiting.
Grady was at the bar with a coffee cup steaming in front of him. He turned slightly and regarded her with a shuttered gaze. She paused as their eyes met.
She wondered what he was thinking of her, realizing she’d been with Ralphie. As shame filled her, she turned away and slid into her seat. She commenced to ignore him and tried to ignore Ralphie too, but the idiotic man just kept on.
He fell into the seat across from hers. “You remember when we went skinny dipping that one night, right?”
B.J. had just picked up her fork, but at his words she stopped in her tracks, the utensil paused halfway between her mouth and plate.
“What the hell,” she said.
“Now tell me that wasn’t fun and adventurous, huh?” he encouraged with a goofy grin.
She could only gape in disbelief.
“Ralphie,” she sputtered. “You...you stupid oaf! Nan’s going to skin you alive if you go announcing to everyone in the goddamn diner you went skinny dipping with someone else.”
Ralphie blinked in confusion. “But...but that happened way before me and her got together. Hell, it was years ago.”
“So why did you even—”
She broke off, unable to believe the dumbass. How dare he announce to the entire place she’d had a weak moment and gotten kinky with him once? And with Grady present too. Not that she cared what Grady thought, but damn it, she did care. She didn’t want him to think she was... Lord, she didn’t care. Let him think what he wanted. It didn’t matter.
“Jesus, Ralphie,” she snapped and threw down her fork. After getting to her feet, she dug into her wallet and tossed down a load of bills. “Don’t go bragging about someone else and expect Nan to be fine with that. I don’t care if it was five years ago or five days ago.”
Ralphie looked worried now. “Y-you really think she’ll be upset?” He bumbled to his feet as well, crowding her with an anxious look.
B.J. lifted an eyebrow and set her hands on her hips. “Did you take lessons to be a moron, or does it just come naturally?”
She pushed by him and stormed angrily from the diner.
****
It only took Ralphie an hour to show up at the hangar. B.J. had her Cessna sitting out in the sun where she had a side hood lifted to expose the engine. After almost crashing, she’d been going through and checking everything. After replacing the torn gas line, she’d installed a few other items needing replaced. Stuff she’d been thinking about fixing someday was suddenly top priority, and B.J. was giving her skywagon the spit and polish overhaul.
Ralphie pulled his truck alongside her plane, his forearm hanging out the opened window and his big, dopey face drooped in mute apology. In the bed of his truck were the four tires she’d won in the poker game that suddenly felt like years ago.
“B.J.,” he said solemnly as he cut the engine and exited the truck.
She slipped a grease rag from her back pocket and wiped off her hands as she followed him to his tailgate. Once he had it opened, he turned to her and tightened his face with regret.
“I’m real sorry,” he said, kicking at a pebble on the ground. “’Bout what I did at the café. I shouldn’t of—”
“Hell, it’s no big deal,” she grumbled, giving up her dirty hands for hopeless and stuffing the rag back into her pocket. “I was just in a mood. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Ralphie didn’t answer. He merely lifted his face, squinted at her since the sun was in his eyes and said, “Well, I’m sorry anyhow. I had no call to start that kind of tale about us. True or not.”
He kicked at the rock again. “I shoulda known better. And you were right. Nan’s already done heard about it and thinks I cheated on her.”
“Well,” B.J. answered. She didn’t want to be mean and say, that’s what you get for opening your pie hole, you big idiot, but she was tempted.
“Anyhow, I brought you them tires you won.” He motioned lamely toward them with limp fingers.
B.J. nodded and stared at the set for a second. “Thanks,” she said. Then with a sigh, she hopped into the bed and started to roll them out.
Ralphie lurched into action to give her a hand. “I went ahead and kept the wheels on,” he explained. “In case you want them too.”
“They didn’t get bent when Rick Hopper wrecked?” she asked, surprised.
Ralphie scratched at his chin. “Don’t seem to be.”
“Well, then...thanks.” He must be damn sorry if he was going to give her the wheels too. That, or his problems with Nan were dour.
Once the set was rolled out and piled on the ground, Ralphie wiped sweat out of his eyes and glanced around. “Where’s your truck? I’ll get started putting these on right now.”
B.J. felt herself soften, unable to make him suffer anymore. “I’ll see to that,” she said. “You didn’t even have to do this much, Ralphie. Thanks.”
He nodded morosely.
“And…” She stalled for a moment before offering the next suggestion, “if you want, I’ll call Nan and try to smooth things out with her. Let her know she has nothing to worry about from me.”
Ralphie jerked his face up, his cow eyes hopeful. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. Now get out of here before someone spots your rig and reports back to her, saying we’re doing the dirty mambo in the back of my plane as we speak.”
Eyes flaring with panic, Ralphie jumped toward his truck. “Damn, I hadn’t thought of that.”
B.J. wasn’t surprised.
He shimmied himself behind the wheel and slammed his door. After starting the engine, he glanced at her once with worry. “You swear you’re going to call her?”
She rolled her eyes. “Smardo, just get outta here already. I got it under control.”
“Thanks, B.J.” He lifted his hand in farewell even as he put the engine into gear. Starting to roll away, he called, “You’re a real pal.”
B.J. sighed as she watched him book it out of there. The poor man was pitiful, absolutely hopeless. Setting her hands on her hips, she studied the pile of tires and couldn’t help but grin. At least she’d gotten something profitable out of the deal.
Wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand, she got to work, first lugging each tire back to the hangar, then piling them in the corner.
She might be slender, but B.J. wasn’t a puny stick by any means. By the time she returned to her plane to retrieve the last tire, though, she’d run full out of steam. Sweat pouring, stomach rolling, she dropped the tire by her feet and held it still as it bounced and tried to roll away.
Bent over, she sucked air through her gritted teeth and willed the nausea to pass. It didn’t, only working steadily up her throat and making her think she was going to urp all over the tarmac. Heat reflected off the glossy black surface, and suddenly, she wondered if she was going to pass out instead.
Closing her eyes, she counted to ten until both the dizziness and queasy stomach settled. Then she straightened and groaned as she lifted the tire again and hauled it in to rest with the others. She was so wiped out, she didn’t have the energy to return to her plane.
Slumping toward the corner office, she tried to remember what she’d eaten for breakfast. When she recalled the whole diner visit and how she’d completely deserted her bacon and eggs because of Grady and Ralphie, she sighed.
There was her problem right there. She was starving. Hot and starving.
Once inside the stifling office, B.J. moved immediately to the water cooler and poured herself a drink. She went and stood in front of the single oscillating fan as she guzzled. When only a swallow was left, she upended the rest of the cup over her head and delighted in the cool wetness trickling down her face and neck.
“Ahh.” She sighed, closing her eyes and spreading her arms wide until the hot air from the fan lifted the back of her shirt and dried her sweaty skin. “Much better.”
Crumbling the paper cup, she tossed it in the trash and started for the phone. After looking up the number, she dialed Nan’s house.