For some reason, imagining this sad scenario lifted his spirits.He was being ridiculous.He was strong and alive, and not without resources.He could work things out.Paul straightened to a sitting position and considered his options.None involved continuing his affair with Vanessa.He doubted it would be possible to salvage their relationship.He had to be satisfied with keeping her safe.
The safest place for Vanessa and Emily was at her father’s house.But how could Paul make her go?She’d fought hard for this summer retreat.She wouldn’t leave unless he did something unforgivable, like cheat on her or yell at Emily.Even then, he couldn’t picture her giving up the cabin.What he could picture, quite easily, was her dad or brother coming over to kick his ass.
Making a sound of frustration, he rose to his feet.He couldn’t take Kyle’s advice.He wouldn’t be cruel to her to put distance between them.
He had to leave her, because he couldn’t make her leave him.
Chapter Twenty-One
After several hoursof studying, Vanessa called it a day.
She’d managed to finish a chapter while Emily went down for a nap, and she’d taken an online practice test that hadn’t scrambled her brain.She wasn’t ready for her official exams yet, but she’d made progress.Rubbing her eyes, she padded into the kitchen to make a snack.
“Can I have a popsicle?”Emily asked.
Vanessa grabbed her favorite flavor from the freezer and unwrapped the cellophane.“Take it outside.”
Emily ran out the door with Penelope in one hand and an ice pop in the other.Vanessa selected raspberry for herself and joined her on the back porch.It was a perfect day for a frozen treat.Blazing hot, even in the shade.She felt a pang of sympathy for Paul, who’d been doing manual labor in this heat.He’d been soaked in sweat at ten in the morning.
She could still hear him working inside the cabin next door.He hadn’t resumed drilling.It sounded like he was setting up the bed.She left Emily on the porch with strict orders to stay and wandered over to offer her assistance.
He was in the bedroom, attaching a piece of hardware to a slatted headboard.While she watched from the doorway, he dropped the multi-tool he was using.His T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders as he bent to retrieve it.He was wearing his old Levi’s with scuffed work boots and a utility belt.She sucked on the ice pop, admiring his form.
Oddly, he didn’t return the favor.He continued to assemble the parts of the headboard, a muscle in his jaw flexing.Maybe he was angry about the way she’d spoken to him earlier.He hadn’t seemed angry.Sexually frustrated, perhaps, but not angry.He’d nuzzled her neck and encouraged her to take a break.
“Want a hand?”she asked finally.
“No,” he said, and dropped the tool again.
She licked the raspberry ice, contemplative.This morning, he’d been all over her.Now she was standing in front of him, imitating oral sex, and he hadn’t even glanced her direction?Something was wrong with him.
He sighed, picked up the tool, and resumed his task.For the past several days, he’d been giving her hungry looks, and touching her at every opportunity.He hadn’t complained about their chaste evenings, however.Last night, when she’d fallen asleep on the couch, he’d carried her into the bedroom and tucked her in.It had been incredibly sweet.
He wasn’t sweet now.He wasn’t hungry, either.She couldn’t interpret his expression.There was tension around his eyes, and a new distance in them.Instead of asking him about it, she finished her treat.She washed her hands before joining him to hold the headboard in place while he worked.He smelled like sawdust and clean sweat, with a hint of eucalyptus.She wondered if his shoulder ached, or if other problems weighed on him.
“We can do a PT session after this,” she said.
He grunted a noncommittal response.She plotted ways to draw him out of his dark mood while he assembled the bed frame.Then she checked on Emily, who was sitting on the back porch with Penelope, trying to make the doll drink from an empty mason jar.Satisfied her daughter was occupied, she returned to help Paul haul the mattress inside.
Once the item was in place, Vanessa crawled across the quilted surface to test its buoyancy.Flopping onto her back, she stretched her arms over her head.Paul stood by the edge of the bed, watching her wanton display.The fabric of her top slipped down a few inches.He looked, but he made no move to touch her.If anything, he seemed annoyed by her.She grasped the slats in the headboard and arched her spine, undeterred.
“You look very stern,” she said.“Maybe you’d like to tie me up and spank me.”
“No,” he said shortly.
She laughed at his blunt answer.He didn’t strike her as the kind of man who’d lie about his sexual preferences.He wasn’t shy about taking what he wanted in bed.She considered teasing him further, because he clearly needed an attitude adjustment.His gaze scanned the length of her body as if the sight tortured him.Whatever the issue, it wasn’t lack of desire.It was something deeper and darker.She didn’t know whether to be relieved or alarmed by the realization.Then a crashing noise startled her, and she heard Emily scream.Vanessa scrambled upright.
Paul rushed out the back door ahead of her.Emily stood at the base of the porch steps, shrieking at the top of her lungs.Broken glass was scattered all around her.Paul lifted her up like a football and carried her inside.Vanessa joined them in the living room.
“What happened?”she asked Emily.
The little girl held her bare foot with one hand and continued to scream.Paul’s expression was strange, like a frozen mask.He remained silent as Vanessa searched the sole of Emily’s foot for glass shards.There were none, but she found the source of the problem.
“It’s just a bee sting,” she said to Paul.Using her fingernails like a pincer, she removed the tiny black stinger in Emily’s heel.
The evidence of a common, everyday occurrence didn’t change his horrified expression.He backed away from the couch as if she’d said,It’s just a flesh-eating bacteria.Beneath his summer tan, his face was pale.His gray-blue eyes had a haunted, faraway look.His throat worked as he swallowed.
Without another word, Paul fled the cabin.Emily, true to form, continued to wail her dramatic little heart out.
