Page 15 of Hushed


  "Our parents dating back in college is like an echo through time," I said before I could stop myself. I knew so much more than he did about the true situation. "Are we doomed to fail, too?" I was thinking out loud again, voicing my fears.

  "I love you, Maddie. I'm not letting you go."

  I caressed his cheek with tears standing in my eyes.

  He leaned in and kissed me.

  I slid over into his lap, straddling him. "I love you, too." Desperately.

  He couldn't know how afraid I was that I would lose him.

  He stood with me wrapped around him. I slid my legs down him until they touched the deck floor.

  He grabbed me by the hand, leaving our lunch sitting on the bench as he pulled a key from his pocket. He held it up. "Let's go inside."

  The lock was sticky. He had to rattle the key to get the door to swing open. And then we were in. The cabin was cold from standing empty and unheated.

  He closed the door and pulled me through the living room into a bedroom with a log frame bed. I kissed him as he fell back onto the bed, pulling me on top of him.

  His hands were warm as they slid beneath my blouse and caressed my bare skin at the small of my back. Everything in me tightened at his touch, aching for release.

  I needed him. Simply needed him. The reassurance of being with him. The bonding.

  I felt the long, hard bulging in his jeans as I lay on him, straddling his hips with my thighs, rubbing against him.

  I ran my hands through his hair. "Why do you have to be so gorgeous?"

  He smiled. "Why do you have to be so beautiful?" He took a breath. "I missed you, Maddie. So damn much. I thought I would go crazy if the week lasted much longer. And then we got off on the wrong foot earlier. I've been planning this all week. Shit, since I first asked you here for spring break. Did you think about me?"

  "Every minute." And more. I couldn't tell him I worried, too. That I was so afraid our parents' relationship had doomed our love all those years ago, well before we were born. I reached for his fly and unzipped his jeans.

  He covered my hand with his. "Did you think about this?" His eyes were dark and round as he looked up at me. "Did you think about having sex with me?"

  I slid his dick out of his fly and stroked him. Hard. I leaned in close, so that our lips were separated by a whisper. "More. I dreamed about it."

  He smiled, slowly and seductively.

  I closed the gap between our lips and kissed him again. Softly, running my tongue over his parted lips with the lightest of touches. He liked it when I took charge and teased him.

  I nibbled at his lips, stroking him until I could feel him holding back. Until I felt the first tremors of pulsing in his dick and knew he was completely at my mercy and on the edge.

  "You're killing me, Mads." His voice was ragged. "Either finish me by hand or get serious."

  I kicked off my shoes. "Oh, I'm serious."

  I released him, unzipped my jeans, and slid them and my panties off.

  He slid a finger inside me. "You are thinking about me."

  I gasped. I was ready for him, too.

  Another time I would have lifted his shirt. Run my hands over his flat abs and muscled chest. Sucked on his nipples. Not now. I needed him too badly, emotionally and physically.

  "I would rather have your dick inside me," I whispered into his ear.

  He pulled his finger out. I stroked him a final time and slid onto him.

  He didn't wait for me to ride him. He thrust up into me until I gasped and moaned.

  I was so ready for him, it took only a few pulses until I gasped and the climax crashed over me.

  He moaned and grunted, pushing up into me, holding my hips firmly in place, riding his own crest of pleasure.

  Finally, I collapsed onto him, pressing my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

  He grabbed my butt. His hands were warm.

  "Your butt is cold." He kissed the top of my head.

  I smiled, so happy in the moment. "It's out in the open air. The cold air."

  He pulled the edge of the comforter over me. "Better?"

  "Mmmmm."

  He wrapped his arms around me and slid out from inside me.

  "You planned this all along," I said.

  He laughed. "Maybe."

  "I could stay like this forever," I said. And then my stomach betrayed me by growling.

  He shook me playfully. "Until you died of hunger. I guess I should feed you." He put a note of mock exasperation in his voice.

  "I guess so," I said. "I drove hundreds of miles across dangerous mountain passes to see you. That's enough to work up an appetite."

  "Not to mention what we just did." His dick was growing hard again between my legs.

  "Not again."

  "Just once more?"

  Eventually, we got up and got dressed. We ate lunch in the sunshine in the corner of the deck. Caesar had packed us a magnificent lunch. Sandwiches on focaccia bread, hand-cut potato chips, cold soup in Mason jars, and thick chocolate cookies that we ate with a bottle of wine from Rick's winery.

  I swore that nothing had ever tasted so good. After lunch, Seth showed me around the woods, pointing out spring wild flowers. I found a first bloom of a rare pink lady slipper nestled beneath a clump of bushes.

  "I'm going to press this and keep it forever," I told him. "Do you have any wax paper?"

  He found me some inside the cabin. We found a couple of heavy books and pressed the flower between them.

  Seth put the books in the boat. "Dad won't mind if we borrow these books from the cabin for a few days." He hesitated. "Speaking of Dad, he would like us to have dinner with him at the hotel tonight." He paused again. "I made the arrangements before you came. If it's too awkward—"

  "No!" I took Seth's hand. "It's fine. It's good." I paused. "Seth?"

  He looked at me like he knew what I was going to ask from the tone of my voice.

  "Do you think your dad and my mom ever…did what we did earlier?"

  "You mean pick wild flowers?" He acted too innocent.

  I bumped him with my shoulder. "Only euphemistically."

  "Shit, Mads. I hope not. I don't want to think about that."

  I was trying to prepare Seth, gently, for the shock that I couldn't hide forever.

  "Are you curious about what really happened between them?" I needed an ally. It occurred to me that working together, we might get details out of Rick that my mom would never give.

  "Not to that level of detail." He made a point of shuddering.

  "Shut up!" I kissed him lightly. "Me, either. But I would like to know more. Like how long did they date?"

  Seth frowned. "Leave it be, Mads." He kissed me before I could protest. "We should get back."

  Chapter 15

  Maddie

  We ate dinner at sunset in the dining room of Rick's hotel. It was Friday night and the restaurant was busy with locals and tourists. People spending the weekend in Washington wine country. People whose children were on spring break. But we had a prime table with a view of the lake and sunset.

  I dressed for dinner in a spring dress I'd bought on one of my many wedding shopping trips with Mom. A nod to her guilt that so much of my time at home was about her. Seth sat next to me. Rick across from me.

  Rick was on his best behavior—laughing, joking, being generally charming. I saw now where Seth got his friendly, easygoing nature and natural charisma. Seth had his arm possessively looped over the back of my chair. Like he was making it clear to his dad that I was his.

  Rick studied me as if he was looking for Mom in me and seeing her in almost every aspect. I studied him, too. With every passing moment in his presence, seeing him as he was now, and imagining him as he'd been at Seth's age, I knew there was no way Mom could have resisted him. Just like I was powerless to resist Seth. No matter how loyal, intelligent, and supportive Dad had been. Compared to Rick Butler, he hadn't stood a chance.

  It was hard to imagi
ne Mom young and passionate, in the same state as I was—desperate in love. Wanting to hold on with everything she had. Wanting Rick in the way I needed Seth. It was so unlike the woman who'd raised me. The sensible, calm, unromantic woman.

  The woman who had only let Dad kiss her on the cheek as they left for work in the morning. The woman who'd given him a peck on the mouth—so quick and perfunctory—when they both came home at night. The wife who was solicitous and loyal, but whose eyes had never sparkled with passion toward him.

  I had always thought Mom wasn't the romantic kind by nature. That she'd always been the way I knew her to be. But being around Rick, I was beginning to wonder if what I'd seen of her was more of a shell. A woman whose passions had died. A woman who'd settled for friendship, loyalty, and security at the cost of her heart.

  It was almost unthinkable. And heartbreaking. But there it was staring me in the face in the form of Seth's dad.

  Maybe I didn't know Mom at all. Maybe she'd kept a big piece of her from all of us. Maybe that explained the worried looks Grandma used to give her. Or the way Grandpa complained Mom had become too serious. What had happened to his darling, fun-loving girl? Mom blamed the change on Dad's cancer. Fighting that for years took its toll.

  I'm sure it had. But maybe there was more behind it. Like an incurably broken heart.

  Sitting across from Rick, I thought, Crap! What if he's the cause? What if he can fix it? Can I chance what I have with Seth to give Mom her heart back? What if seeing Rick again will make things worse for her?

  Rick asked me all the usual polite questions about my classes and college life. "Favorite class?"

  "HBM 225! Cooking with Chef Steven." I slid a sideways glance at Seth.

  He beamed and stroked my bare arm with his fingertips.

  "Because of my boy!" Rick's laugh boomed. "That's sweet. Now." He leaned across the table like we were sharing an intimate secret. "What's your real favorite?"

  I laughed, cupped my mouth so Seth ostensibly couldn't hear, and whispered, playing along, "HBM 225. Second favorite—microbiology."

  Rick leaned back and shook his head, his eyes twinkling. "Good answer. Diplomatic." He addressed Seth. "I like her."

  "That makes two of us, Dad."

  I furiously tried to think of ways to draw him out and get him to spill details Mom had locked away. But how did I steer him in that direction?

  "Your favorite class?" I asked Rick, taking the chance that he and Mom had had one together.

  "Couldn't name one. There were too many to count—math, history, science, computer programming. I loved them all. Damn, I was a nerd. I lived for learning."

  The way his eyes danced, I couldn't tell how far he was pulling our legs, or how much truth he was telling. Or what he loved learning about. I got the impression he was talking about more than classwork.

  I couldn't imagine him as a nerd. I knew for a fact he wasn't. Not judging from the college dance picture I'd seen of him. Self-perception, though, was a flawed mirror.

  "I loved college. Period. The camaraderie of the frat. The new experiences. The girls." He winked at me. "Enjoy what you have left of it. It's the best time of your life!" His smile was infectious.

  "Shit, Dad," Seth said. "You mean it's all downhill from here?"

  "Shut up, kid." Rick grinned. "You're always nailing me on semantics. I should have said 'one of the best times.' Life is a pretty fantastic adventure. But college!" Rick shook his head. "On your own for the first time. Finding yourself. Total freedom. Absolute pressure. Surrounded almost exclusively by your peer group. Won't happen again! Not like that. That's why I say enjoy it. It slips away all too quickly. Like life. Suddenly you look in the mirror and see a middle-aged man looking back." He sounded resigned and suddenly reflective and nostalgic.

  "That won't happen to me!" I couldn't let Rick's good mood slip.

  He looked at me like, Oh, yes, it will.

  "Maybe an old woman, but not an old man." I liked teasing him.

  His eyes lit up again. "You've already been hanging out with my boy too long." Rick was clearly teasing. "I'm glad you're here. The boy can't shut up about you. Now I see why."

  Seth rolled his eyes. "Dad—"

  Rick laughed. "How did you two meet, anyway? In class? Through Zach? Isn't he friends with both of you?"

  "Dad—"

  "What? I don't remember you spilling the deets, Sethie."

  "Sethie?" I turned to Seth. "Cute!"

  He scowled at his father. "You're trying to embarrass me now, Daddy."

  Rick roared. "Is it working? Wait until I drag out the naked baby bathtub pictures of you. He was adorable, by the way."

  "I would pay to see those!" I loved the way the two of them bantered back and forth and ribbed each other. It reminded me of the way Mom and Ian got along.

  "What?" Rick put on a totally innocent look. "Your mother's probably asked how you met Seth, right?" His gaze bounced between us, landing on me.

  I squirmed and shrugged noncommittally.

  "She hasn't commented on the coincidence of the Butler last name?" Rick was clearly prying now, trying to draw me out.

  Did she remember him? Had she asked about him? The questions were there in his eyes.

  So the games begin again, I thought.

  When I hesitated, Rick continued, "Butler is a common enough last name, I suppose."

  "I haven't told her Seth's last name." It was the truth, and a damned partial lie again. I hadn't told her anything.

  I don't know why I felt compelled to put Rick at ease regarding Mom. To not hurt his feelings with the thought she'd forgotten all about him.

  Rick frowned. "I see."

  Beside me, I felt Seth stiffen. I shouldn't have felt guilty. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, either. He knew I was keeping our relationship from my family, and was in agreement with me.

  "It hasn't come up yet. I'm…" I paused. "Mom has the tendency to get way ahead of herself when I tell her about guys. It's better to share as little as possible with her until…we've only been dating a little over a month."

  "And yet Seth brought you home to meet me." Rick's gaze was intense. "You're the first girl he's brought home from college."

  If Rick meant to hang me out to dry and condemn me, he was doing a fine job.

  I squeezed Seth's leg and switched the subject back to his original question. "We met in class." I beamed at Seth like I adored him. Because I did. "I was single and looking for the next boyfriend. I knew, just knew, that something life-changing was going to happen this semester. I figured that meant a new guy. I mean, had to be." I squeezed Seth's hand.

  He relaxed and beamed at me.

  "And I had this feeling that cooking class would be it. So I got all dressed up and strutted into cooking class, totally trolling for fresh blood."

  "And there was my boy with his eyes popping out!" Rick took a sip of wine. "Do you remember exactly what she was wearing, Seth? Was she bathed in a golden romantic glow?" He laughed like he was laughing at himself.

  "I remember every detail." Seth squeezed my hand back as he described the outfit I was wearing and how he'd spotted me sitting in the auditorium.

  "I remember exactly what your mom was wearing the first time I met her, too, Maddie." There was that nostalgic look in Rick's eyes again. "Then again, it was pretty dramatic." He paused. "Did Laura ever tell you how she and I met?"

  My heart thudded to a stop. This was information I desperately wanted. I didn't want to shut him up by offending him and telling him she'd never mentioned him, period. So I simply shook my head.

  "Really? Huh." He shook his head like he couldn't believe she wouldn't have.

  I thought he was being incredibly arrogant.

  "I'm surprised. A brush with death isn't something you forget." He shrugged and poured himself more wine.

  "What?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "A brush with death?"

  "Yeah, Sethie here should thank me. Without me, there would be no you."


  Or Ian, I thought.

  Rick raised the wine bottle. "More?"

  I laced my arm through Seth's and hung on tightly.

  Seth slid his glass over. I covered mine with my hand. I was still nursing my first glass and dying to hear his story with a clear head.

  "The first time I met your mom, I saved her from being blown up by a heartsick, maniacal bomber." Rick's eyes lit up, like the memory was still an absolute adrenaline rush.

  "What? Bullshit, old man!" Seth shook his head. "How come I've never heard about this before?"

  "Maybe you never asked." Rick winked at his son, seemingly unoffended and nonplussed by Seth's disbelief.

  "What? How?" It seemed too fantastic to believe.

  Was Rick really—like, literally—my mom's hero?

  Rick nodded. "You never heard about the big spring dorm bombing of nineteen eighty?"

  We shook our heads.

  "Ah, well, I suppose they don't advertise it for obvious reasons. It was all over the national news when it happened." He looked lost in thought for a second, like he was traveling back in time.

  "I was working on a lab report with my lab partners Steve and Sarah in Sarah's dorm room at Cole Hall. You know the one," he said to Seth. "The old concrete one at the top of Stadium Way. It was only a few years old then. Nice, sturdy modern construction. Which saved a lot of lives and property.

  "Sarah lived on the fifth floor. Had her own single room. We studied there a lot. We could blast our music. It was private. No roommate to disturb.

  "We heard a commotion in the hall. Some jerk screaming obscenities at some girl Sarah knew who lived near the end of the hall near the stairs.

  "'That has to be Becky's ex.' Sarah was shaking. Which was uncharacteristic. Usually, she was fearless. 'He said he'd kill her if she ever broke up with him.' She looked at us with round eyes. 'She broke up with him last week.'

  "Well, shit, I thought. I'm not going to let some jerk terrorize a defenseless girl. I stepped out in the hall to tell him to can it and get lost.

  "I stopped short just in time. He was armed to the teeth with shotguns and rifles. And had something strapped to him that looked like a homemade bomb. I stepped back in the room and locked the door.