Ryan was gone.
She stared at the ceiling, feeling an ache in her chest.
Ryan was gone.
She forced herself out of bed, seeing her bra on the floor, her shirt and shorts, and she was very aware of her own nakedness. “We made love,” she whispered, steadying herself at the edge of the bed. “I made love with her.” Yes. And she felt incredibly alive. And Ryan was gone.
She took her robe, covering herself with it before walking slowly through the house. She saw the note and stopped, swallowing down the lump in her throat. Her hand was trembling as she picked it up.
“I’m so sorry, Jen. Please don’t hate me.”
She clutched the note in her fist, holding it to her heart. “Oh, Ryan, what are you running from?”
Ryan stood looking at the mansion, her backpack slung casually over one shoulder. The ocean breeze brought a pleasant scent in, one very different from the mountain air she was used to breathing. Still rooted to the spot, she wasn’t prepared to see her mother. Normally, she used the long flight to steel herself for the three days she’d be here, toughening her skin so her mother’s words would bounce off of her. Today, however, all she could think about was Jen...and the way she’d snuck out of her bed, out of her house. Out of her life.
It was for the best, she told herself. Damage control. This way, Jen didn’t have to face her, didn’t have to face the fact that they’d had sex. This way, Jen could just get on with her life. She didn’t need the complications that Ryan would bring to it.
Ryan finally made herself move. The mansion looked as it always did. Huge and intimidating. It was hard to call it home. She was greeted at the door by Arthur. She smiled at him. He’d worked for her family since she was a child.
“Miss Catherine. I daresay I hardly recognized you.”
“Good. Maybe my mother won’t either,” she said as she ran her hand over her short hair.
He leaned closer, his voice quiet. “This may give her that stroke you’ve been hoping for.”
She laughed. “I was thirteen when I first said that. You wanted Maria to wash my mouth out with soap,” she reminded him.
“So I did.” He stepped back, welcoming her inside. “How have you been?”
She paused. “Good,” she said. “Anything new here I should know about?”
“Your mother is busy with the caterers at the moment. I believe she was expecting you yesterday,” he said.
“Yeah. I had to make a detour,” she said vaguely. “So I have a reprieve?”
Arthur smiled. “I believe you could hide from her until dinner, yes. Shall I take your bag to your room?”
“I can manage,” she said.
“Very well. I shall ask Sophie to bring you up a late lunch. I don’t imagine you’ve eaten.”
It was only then that she realized how hungry she was. Ravenous, really. “Thank you. That would be great.”
He bowed, as was his custom, and she headed for the staircase, her gaze following its twisting curve up to the second floor. With a weary sigh she walked up, trying to conjure up some happy memories of the place. As usual, she couldn’t. She would always remember the mansion as the place she fled from ten years ago.
Her room was large and airy, with two windows facing the ocean. She tossed her bag on the bed and immediately opened the double doors, walking out to the terrace. She breathed in the scent of the sea air as her eyes were drawn to the waves crashing on shore. She remembered many a night when she would sneak down there, sitting for hours just listening to the surf, writing stories in her head, afraid to let anyone know of her passion.
A light tap on her door signaled Sophie’s arrival. She went back inside and opened the door, smiling politely at the young woman who had taken Maria’s place several years ago.
“Miss Catherine, good to see you again.”
“Thank you, Sophie.” She lifted the lid on the silver serving tray, finding perfectly cut sandwich wedges, along with cucumber slices and cherry tomatoes. Her stomach growled. “Very nice.”
“Please ring if you need something else,” Sophie offered.
“This should be fine.”
There appeared to be three different sandwiches. Ryan grabbed the roast beef first, moaning at the first bite. She piled a plate high, then grabbed the bottle of water Sophie had supplied and went back out to the terrace. As she finished off the roast beef and started on the turkey, she paused, her thoughts going back to Jen. Was she wrong to have left like she did? Should she have hung around long enough to make sure Jen was okay? What would she have said?
“
I’m on my way to The Hamptons and thought I’d stop by and screw up your life.”
She shook her head slowly. God, what was she thinking by stopping by in the first place? If it was just sex she wanted, she could have gotten that anywhere. She would see many willing women in the next few days. Most of them just like Megan had been, willing to do anything to be a part of the Ryan-Barrett clan.
Maybe that’s why Jen had such a hold on her. She was not like Megan. She was
real
. Their lovemaking had been
real
. It was a night Ryan knew she would never forget. Jen’s touch, so innocent and tentative at first, had grown bolder and surer, leaving Ryan transfixed and wanting more. And Jen gave her more...for hours and hours, she gave her more.
Ryan blew out a breath, hating herself at that moment. She shouldn’t have left. She should have stayed. They should have talked. She should have explained. Explained that she couldn’t offer Jen anything other than what they’d just shared.
Sex.
Yes, that’s all she ever could offer. Just sex. Nothing more. But Jen deserved so much more than that.
Her appetite vanished suddenly. She went back inside, placing the uneaten food back under the tray. The restlessness she normally felt here hit her then, and she left her room, needing a diversion from her thoughts.
She went up to the third floor where her grandmother’s rooms were. Abby, who had been with her grandmother for years, greeted her.
“Miss Catherine, you’ve come. She’s been asking for you.”
Ryan looked past her into the room. “Is she up?”
“I just woke her from her nap, yes. I was about to make her a cup of tea. Would you like one too?”
“Coffee?” Ryan asked hopefully.
“Of course. Go visit. She’s in the sitting room. I’ll be right in.”
Ryan stood in the doorway, a smile lighting her face. Her grandmother was facing the windows, her gaze looking out over the ocean. She’d lived here all of her life, and Ryan couldn’t even begin to count the number of days her grandmother must have stared at that very sight.
“You up for company?”
Her grandmother didn’t turn. “About time you got here. I thought maybe you were going to stand me up.”
Ryan laughed. “I would never miss your birthday, Carmen.” Her grandmother lifted a hand, beckoning her to join her. Ryan moved into the room, bending down to kiss her cheek. “You look as lovely as ever,” Ryan said honestly.
Her grandmother squeezed her hand as her eyes traveled over her. She smiled, then laughed. “Oh my, but don’t you look pretty.”
“You like it?”
“It makes you look very handsome, if I may use that word.”
“Handsome, huh?”
“Are the ladies still chasing you?”
Ryan shook her head. “Only when they know who I am.”
“Still in hiding then, are you?”
“Is that what you call it?”
Her grandmother patted the seat next to her, and Ryan relaxed beside her. Her grandmother’s surprisingly strong hand closed around her own.
“Are you writing, dear?”
“Actually, yes. Well, I was,” she admitted.
“Summer in the mountains got you sidetracked again?”
Ryan nodded, letting her think that. “I’m not sure why I’m even bothering, though. I don’t think I’ll ever attempt to publish again.”
“Nonsense. You have a wonderful talent, Catherine. You should not waste it.”
“I believe you are the only one who thinks that. Mother still doubts me,” she said.
“I’ll tell you now what I told you back then. Screw her!”
Ryan laughed, waiting for the statement she always followed up with.
“I never wanted Christopher to marry her, but your grandfather thought it would be a good match.” She squeezed her hand tightly. “But of course, I wouldn’t have you then, would I?”
Ryan nodded. “I know I should come around more often,” she said.
“Oh, now don’t feel guilty. You have your own life. You and your mother are like oil and water. Always have been.”
Abby interrupted them then, bringing over a tray. She poured tea into a cup and handed it to Carmen, then offered a cup of coffee to Ryan.
“You take it black, if I remember.”
“Yes, thanks.”
“Thank you, Abby,” Carmen said. “Why don’t you go relax and not worry about me. If I need something, Catherine can help me.”
“Very well. Enjoy your visit.”
When she was out of earshot, her grandmother leaned closer. “She hovers. I think she thinks I’m going to kick the bucket any day now.”
Ryan smiled, knowing Abby was very loyal to her grandmother. “She cares about you.”
“Oh, I know. But she insists I take a nap every day as if I’m old or something,” she said with a quick laugh. “I don’t feel eighty-nine. I guess I’m not sure what eighty-nine is supposed to feel like.”
“Do you get out much, Carmen?”
“I walk the grounds every day. And Arthur is kind enough to walk with me to the gazebo. He sits with me so that I can watch the waves.”
“They don’t allow you to do that alone?”
“Like I said, they all think I’m at death’s door. Or maybe they think I’m going to fall and break a hip or something.”
“I’ll take you out there if you want,” Ryan offered. “I can even make myself scarce so you can have some alone time.”
“I don’t want alone time when you’re here, Catherine. I’d much rather enjoy your company. Perhaps we could stroll down there, though. It would be nice to sit with you.”
“How about we go before dinner?”
“How about we go now?” she suggested. “I assume you haven’t seen her yet.”
“Mother? No. Arthur said she was with the caterers. How many guests are you expecting this year?”
“Three or four hundred,” she said. “Your mother is quite the event organizer. The more celebrities she has, the more cameras there are. Those entertainment shows are sending reporters again this year. My birthday has turned into a circus, hasn’t it?”
“Oh, you love it or you wouldn’t still do it. Besides, it brings in a lot of money, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, this event raises more money for the disease than any other single event. For that I’m very proud. But I’ve grown weary of the annual affair. Your mother loves it, of course.”
“Well, it has taken on a life of its own.”
“I know. But she’s going to do with it what she wants. I’m too old to protest.”
Ryan heard the frustration in her grandmother’s voice and knew it was time to change the subject. She stood, offering her hand. “How about that walk?”
“Yes, go grab my cane,” she said. “And then you can tell me all about the mountains. I love hearing about your cabin and your dogs and your friends there.”
Ryan did as instructed, already debating whether she should mention the stranded guest she harbored for nearly two months. Her grandmother would enjoy the tale, but she didn’t know if she wanted to bring Jen into the conversation or not. She wasn’t certain she was ready to talk about Jen to anyone.
She led Carmen slowly to the elevator that would take them down to the first floor, her thoughts still far away.
Jen stood at the window, her cup of coffee long cold. She finally set it down, then brought her gaze back to the window, looking out over the rooftops of her neighbor’s houses to the faint outline of the northern mountains. She couldn’t focus on anything and she’d been staring out the window for most of the day.
Well, she could focus on something, but it was the one thing she
didn’t
want to think about.
Ryan.
Last night had been incredible. Even the fantasies she had had couldn’t compare. But for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why Ryan had run. Why would she show up without warning and then just run?
Maybe that was all she wanted. Sex. Ryan had told her that before. She took what women offered her—sex—and left nothing in return. Was that all she’d done with Jen? Taken what Jen willingly gave?
No. Ryan wouldn’t do that to her, she was certain. But whatever Ryan was running from she still didn’t trust Jen enough to share it with her. That hurt. She trusted her enough to share her body, to make love, but that was all.
Make love.
Jen looked away from the window, still shocked at what had occurred. She couldn’t even remember their conversation, if there’d been any. All she remembered was taking Ryan into her bedroom, offering herself to Ryan. And it was the most incredible night of her life.
It confirmed that her decision to end things with Brad had been the right one. But did it also indicate her other suspicions were correct? Was she a lesbian? Had Ryan opened up a whole new world for her? And if so, where did she go from here?
Her phone rang, bringing her out of her musings. It would be Cheryl. They’d had a lunch date planned, but Jen hadn’t been in the mood to see anyone. She’d shot her a vague e-mail, canceling. No doubt Cheryl’s curiosity was piqued.
Well, she couldn’t talk to her yet. She let it go to voice mail. Maybe they could get together in a couple of days. Maybe she’d be ready to talk then. She smiled ruefully, picturing Cheryl’s reaction to Jen’s latest revelation.
“Well, well. If it isn’t Cat, returning to the nest.”
Ryan turned at the sound of her brother’s voice, smiling despite herself. “Chuck,” she replied, using the nickname he despised.
“Catbird,” he countered.
“Chucky ducky.”
He laughed. “Okay, enough.” He pointed at her hair. “I like it. It’s good to see you.”