He whisks my hand away. “Stop it, Skye.”
“We both want it.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Why? I can live without the choking, okay?” I gasp back a sob. “I don’t know why it spoke to me so much. Maybe if I knew why you won’t—”
He places his fingers over my lips. “Knowing my story won’t change yours.”
“But—”
“It won’t, and it shouldn’t.”
I don’t reply.
“This place doesn’t scare you anymore.”
“No.” I give him a mischievous smile. “It would scare me less if you fucked me here.”
He touches my cheek. “Nice try. Let’s go back now. I’ll buy you lunch in town, and then I need to get on my way to New York.”
“I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too. Take some time for yourself. I’d like you to be able to answer my question when you return to Boston.”
I nod. “I will, Braden. I promise.”
It’s a promise I’m determined to keep.
…
After a delectable lunch of pasta at Luigi’s, Braden’s ride came for him and he drove off. I stood on Main Street in front of the red brick hotel and watched the car until it was no longer visible.
Hope fills my heart. We can work this out. I know we can now, because I know he wants it as much as I do. I just need to give him an answer to his question. I stroll along Main Street for a few minutes, taking in the sights. Two years have passed since I’ve been here, and though it still looks like a small town straight out of the 1950s, I notice one small change. What used to be the Tabor Brooke Law Office now has a different tenant. Rosa Brooke, Family Therapist. Tabor Brooke’s daughter.
Hmm.
I know Rosa. She and I went to high school together. She was a townie. One of the beautiful people and a cheerleader, but she was always nice to me despite my being a rural kid. Maybe she’d be willing to chat about my…issue.
I gather my courage and walk through the entrance.
A small desk sits between two closed doors. “May I help you?” the receptionist asks.
I sigh. “No.” I turn.
Then, almost as quickly, I turn back to her. “I’m sorry. I don’t have an appointment.”
“Mr. Brooke isn’t in today. He’s in court.”
“I was actually hoping I could see Rosa.”
“Oh. She’s with someone at the moment, but they’re almost done. What’s your name?”
“Skye Manning.”
A teenaged girl walks out through one of the doors. She waves at the receptionist. “See you next week, Mary.”
“Have a great day,” Mary replies. Then she picks up her phone. “Rosa, there’s a young woman here to see you. Skye Manning.”
A few seconds, and then out walks Rosa, still as blond and beautiful as she was in high school. “Skye, how nice to see you!”
“Hi, Rosa. I was walking by and saw your sign.”
“When did you get into town?”
“Just yesterday. I’ll be here all week.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen you since graduation. You look amazing, but then, you always did.”
I smile. Yeah, she was always nice to me. “Thank you. You look amazing as well.”
“We should do lunch while you’re home.”
“That’d be great. I’d love to talk.”
“Of course. We’ll catch up. I hear you’re a big photographer in Boston.”
I nod. “I wouldn’t say big, but I’m at least taking pictures.”
“Wonderful. I can’t wait to chat. What’s your schedule like?”
“Well.” I clear my throat. “I’m free now.”
“I have a half hour. Sure. Let’s go get a soda.”
I twist my lips. “Rosa, when I said I wanted to talk, I meant…professionally.”
“Oh!” She widens her eyes. “Of course. Come on into my office.”
I follow her, and she shuts the door.
“Have a seat.”
I choose the couch, and she takes the wingback chair adjacent to me.
I clear my throat again. “I have insurance. I can pay you.”
“I’m not worried about that. What can I help you with?”
God, where to start? “I’m in a relationship. Sort of. With… With Braden Black.”
Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. “You are?”
“We’re kind of off again at the moment.”
“Seriously? Braden Black?”
“Just for the past few weeks. I guess the tabloids didn’t get here yet.”
“Liberty’s the last to get any kind of news. So tell me all about him.”
I fold my hands in front of me to keep from fidgeting. “That’s kind of why I’m here, actually. We have an issue that I need to resolve.”
“I’ll try my best to help, but if you’re only going to be here for a week, there’s a limit to what I can do.”
“I understand. If you tell me I need further guidance, I’ll find a therapist when I get home.”
“One session of therapy isn’t usually enough.”
“I’m here all week. I can come in more than once.”
“If there’s room in my schedule, I’ll be happy to see you. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. What brought you in today, Skye?”
“It’s Braden,” I say. “He and I have a rather…unconventional relationship.”
“How so?”
“Our sex life is”—my cheeks warm—“kind of…” I swallow down a wave of nausea. “This is all confidential, right?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t be a very good counselor if I blabbed my clients’ stories all over town.” She smiles.
I know she’s telling the truth, but her words make me edgy. Maybe this was a bad idea.
She seems to sense my apprehension. “Skye, something’s obviously bothering you. I assure you that you can trust me. I’m a professional and I’m bound by the ethics of the profession.”