After the Climb Page 15

  “It’s a little ridiculous how much sense that makes,” I muttered.

  He smiled smugly.

  I wasn’t feeling smug.

  “We should talk about the other, Bowie.”

  “The other what?”

  “You, well…me being in your face and not in your life and how that had to feel.”

  He turned into me, lifting his foot from the floor so he could tangle his legs with mine and wrapping both his arms around me.

  “Right, I have not watched any of your movies or Rita’s Way. I couldn’t. It would have killed. And I didn’t need my wife seein’ that. And she knew about you.”

  “Oh boy.”

  I knew how that was.

  I knew because Tom knew about Duncan too. I’d told him before we were married, when we were sharing about lovers past. And when River Rain got bigger, and Duncan was the face of it, and Tom didn’t miss that, he didn’t handle it very well.

  I didn’t blame him.

  They looked alike. They were both sporty, outdoorsy, even if in different ways, and they were both committed to causes that meant something to them.

  Duncan, the environment.

  Tom, the proper care and treatment of younger athletes in competition (suffice it to say, when the Larry Nassar scandal broke, Tom hit the roof, as anyone would, but Tom took it as almost a personal affront, but then, he had two daughters, and at the time Sasha was seriously into beach volleyball).

  He got over his jealous spate toward Duncan, and it wasn’t difficult for him to do so, but it was rocky for a spell.

  “Yeah,” Duncan grunted, bringing me back to our conversation. “And I did not know, until yesterday, that was an issue because she never told me.”

  I grew tense and repeated, “Oh boy.”

  He pulled me closer, not that there was much closer to get, but he managed it.

  “She and I are done, baby,” he said gently. “We are, and there’s no going back. But just to say, if she had an issue, she should have told me. That’s on her. A lot of it is on her, but how ’bout for now, we deal with stuff that involves you and me. Not Dora. Not Corey. Just where we are and where we’re goin’ and not try to tackle all of it, which is impossible, but it would be unsettling, and I don’t wanna feel unsettled. I have a spell where I can feel good I got my Genny back in my arms. And that’s all I wanna feel. For now. You with me?”

  I knew a thing or two about a partner not sharing something they should share.

  And now was not the time to get into that.

  Now was the time to be happy I had Duncan back.

  So I nodded exuberantly.

  “Good,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to my mouth.

  I wanted his kiss.

  However…

  “Bowie,” I called.

  His eyes came back to mine.

  “Right. Plan. Hear me out,” he stated.

  I nodded.

  “We’re gonnna make out in a little bit, and I’m gonna warn you, I’m gonna feel you up. You’re bein’ shy, so I think it’s fair you know what’s coming.”

  I started giggling.

  Duncan kept talking.

  “Before that, I’m gonna ask you to give me the week. You don’t have a sanitation problem at your place, but Cookie’s already up here, and you clearly don’t have plans that’s messing with, so you can stay. Not here. Chloe has informed me she’s using my place as her vacation destination and I don’t know how long that’s gonna last and her mom and her new, yet old man hooking up under the same roof, even if she’s on the other side of the house, would not work for any of us. And more importantly, I’m sensing you wanna take this slow, and you’re gonna need your space, so I’m gonna give it to you. So you stay at the hotel. During that week, we can get used to each other again, catch up our lives, and make a plan for after without any rush. Are you down with that?”

  “What about your work?”

  “I can’t deny I’m getting behind, so I’m gonna have to hit the office. But you strike me as a woman who doesn’t get bored easily, your girl is here, you got friends here, so I hope that’s not gonna be a problem.”

  “It won’t, but now I have to ask you to be honest, because I can assure you, I won’t be offended. Are you okay with Chloe staying with you?”

  “If she left me at this point without needing to go home and get on with her life, it’d gut me.”

  I stared at him, warmth (or more warmth) creeping around the region of my heart.

  “Straight up, after Gage left, it took a while to get settled in this house without my boys and their mess and their friends and girlfriends in and out. I only had them every other week, but when they went away to school, no other way to put it, it fucking sucked.”

  “I so totally get that,” I told him, and I so totally did.

  “Yeah, and my boys, especially Gage, take up space. They’re active. They had a lot of friends. Both were serial daters. So there was a lot of action around here. But your girl is one girl, but she seems like about five of them.”

  I started laughing and repeated, “I so totally get that.”

  “I don’t have daughters,” he went on. “Love my boys so much, really didn’t think on it. Just happy with what I had, how great they were, and that was it. But bein’ around your girl…” He paused, then continued cautiously, “This is for later, honey, but we woulda had beautiful kids, and you might have given me daughters, and that’s not ever gonna happen, and that’s a hole I discovered today that I got in me that’s never gonna be filled. But all that’s Chloe takes so much attention, I’m thinkin’ I’m not gonna feel the empty too much.”

  His words made my head fall forward and it thudded against his chin.

  He just shifted to kiss my forehead.

  “We would have made beautiful children,” I agreed.

  “We didn’t,” he said gruffly. “But we got what we got, and we’re all kinds of lucky.”

  At least with that, we were indeed all kinds of lucky.

  I tipped my head back. “I love that you like her so much.”

  “She’s the shit.”

  I smiled at him. “She is that. Your boys sound the same.”

  “They are.”

  “I’m scared of meeting them.”

  “Do you know Larry Fitzgerald?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Too bad. Though I figure Gage will like you anyway.”

  That made me giggle.

  I was giggling a lot lately.

  It felt nice.

  “Can we make out now?” Duncan asked.

  That made me giggle more.

  I stopped when Duncan kissed me.

  And it came back, just like on the porch.

  What I’d lost, like it was a sense. Like I’d been flying blind. Moving deafened through the world. Unable to touch. Or taste. Or smell.

  All that without Duncan and this and the freedom he gave me to just be me.

  I knew Tom loved “Gen,” not “Imogen Swan.”

  But in this, he took over. He guided things. And his alpha ways meant that was the only way.

  And I could not say I didn’t enjoy it. I did. To let go. To let someone steer that ship. It was a turn-on to give over control.

  This was different.

  Because Duncan took and he led, and he knew what he wanted, and he went after it.

  But he let me have all that too.

  Back then.

  And now.

  Like when I got so into our kissing, I yanked his shirt out of his jeans and started feeling him up before he got even close to the hem of my sweater.

  That smooth, hot skin, the muscle underneath.

  He groaned at my touch and shoved a knee through my thighs.

  I pressed closer and tucked my hand down the back of his jeans, going for his ass.

  He dipped his hand under my sweater and went right for my breast.

  His thumb rubbing hard over my nipple meant I sucked his tongue deep into my mouth and pushed m
y hips into his.

  He ground his hard crotch into mine in return and rolled me to my back.

  “Duncan,” I gasped when he released my mouth so he could work at my neck.

  “Fuck, Genny,” he growled, pulling the cup of my bra down and pinching my nipple.

  Oh yes.

  I had it back.

  I arched into him, turning my head, nipping his ear and pulling my hand out of his jeans to round him, cupping his package.

  “Fuck, Genny,” he grunted, surging into my hand.

  He took my mouth and thrust into my hand and I caught his hair in a fist, rounding his thigh with one of my calves, pushing up in his rhythm with my hips.

  Yes, like a sense coming back.

  Essential.

  My God.

  How I’d missed this.

  My phone chimed with a text, and maybe a second later, Duncan’s did too.

  He broke our kiss, pressed his forehead to the side of my neck and covered my hand at his crotch, pulling it around his back, muttering, “Fuck, shit, fuck, shit.”

  Both our breathing was labored.

  But a double text indicated Chloe was on her way back.

  He lifted his head. “I’m now sensing you don’t need to take at least that part slow.”

  And again, I was giggling.

  He held his weight in a forearm and used his other hand to stroke a line from the area under my eye down to the corner of my mouth.

  “Times I knew I was good enough for you, whenever I made you laugh,” he murmured.

  I stopped giggling.

  “You were always good enough for me,” I murmured back.

  “I know, baby. But you get it, yeah?”

  I got it.

  I didn’t like it.

  But I got it.

  “I try not to hate. It’s such an ugly emotion. And it says even more about the hater than it does about the hate-ee. But I hate your father, Bowie. I did then, and even dead, I do now.”

  “He’s not worth that emotion, Genny. And understanding that was when I could let it go.”

  “I’m not there yet.”

  “We’ll get you there.”

  “I’m not hopeful about that,” I muttered.

  He smiled at me. “You wanna know what I was thinking when you and Coco walked back into the entry earlier?”

  I tipped my head to the side on his toss pillow. “Coco?”

  “This morning, I got that she wants me to call her Coco. She got the Bowie story.”

  Oh boy.

  “No wonder she’s lost to you, if you gave her that,” I remarked.

  “I needed her to get who I was and who she was shovin’ in her mother’s path. I also needed to get why she was workin’ so hard on that. I fear it’ll affect my ami status, givin’ you this, and it’s somethin’ else we gotta go over, both ways, how our exes became exes, though you know the bones of mine, but heads up. She’s not over the divorce.”

  My heart hurt.

  But I said, “I know.”

  He didn’t ask me to expound on that.

  He took us back. “So you wanna know what I was thinking?”

  I nodded. “Please.”

  “I was seeing my home through your eyes and realizing, even though, for the most part, he’s in my past in a way I get that’s all he gets of me anymore. And don’t mistake me, I built this for me and my boys and the work I hope they eventually do to make my brood bigger. Still, I also get that this house was a massive fuck-you to my father.”

  I smiled hugely at him. “It’s a really impressive fuck-you, Bowie. Especially the master. And the master bath.”

  He smiled hugely in return. “I was noticing you had a thing for my room.”

  “You noticed correctly.”

  He kept smiling.

  And then he said, “I also built it for you.”

  I felt my smile fade and I blinked.

  “Sorry?”

  “Left Dora in the house we raised the boys in and it’s a nice house. Thirty-five hundred square feet. Great neighborhood up in the mountains. But it’s not this. Not close. Now, I cannot say I did all I did in my life for you. I didn’t. It was for me. And then it was for my family. But I can’t deny, with this house, there was some part of me still striving to be the man for you, and you becoming Imogen Swan, famous actress. Well…”

  He flung out an arm to indicate that gorgeous fireplace, the great room, the house, and beyond.

  “Well, thank you, I accept that compliment as the grave tribute it was meant to be.”

  His body moved on mine with his deep chuckle. “You’re totally welcome.”

  In all seriousness, I said, “And it really is a beautiful house, Bowie.”

  “Thank you, baby,” he whispered.

  “Now, do I have dry-humping-on-the-couch hair?” I asked.

  “No idea, but you probably wanna make sure you don’t before Coco gets back.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “And I’ll see what I can rustle up for lunch for two fancy broads,” he replied, angling off me and onto his feet, which caused a scattering of dogs.

  He pulled me up to mine.

  “I’m still that small-town Illinois girl, Bowie,” I told him.

  “Yeah, your publicists can feed that line to the drones who’ll suck up anything, but marble and chandeliers and a Cayenne and an assistant that brings you your cat, you don’t fool me, Genny. The thing it’s important for you to get is, I’m proud as fuck you made the you that you are right now. I know it took work. And it probably took balls. And from what I’ve heard about that cesspool of an industry, you likely ate a lot of shit. But you came out on top, Gen. And that’s fucking extraordinary.”

  One could say, unless his mouth was on mine, I felt timid about my body’s reaction to his and definitely where that would lead, now that I wasn’t twenty-four anymore.

  But what he just said, I couldn’t control it.

  I jumped him.

  We were back down on the couch, Duncan sitting, me straddling his lap, devouring his mouth, when he squeezed my ass with both hands, pulled his head back and said, “Babe, I’m hard again and honest to Christ, I’m fallin’ in love with your kid, but even if I wasn’t, I do not need to face her with a raging erection.”

  And there it was.

  Another giggle.

  “Climb off and fix your hair, because it’s totally dry-humping hair. You do that, I’ll get a shot to take a breath and try not to think of what I intend to do to you on this couch, in my bed, in my shower, in my bathtub, at The Queen…”

  “Okay, Bowie.”

  I climbed off.

  He stretched his arms out to either side of him on the back of the couch and I did my best (and failed) to not looking at his crotch.

  If luck had turned on me with falling in love with a man whose father’s abuse and whose best friend’s perfidy drove him from me, I was not unaware that that I’d lucked out very significantly in a variety of other ways.

  To put a fine point on it, both the men who were important to me in my life were beautifully endowed.

  Tom’s cock was long and hefty and pretty.

  Duncan’s was all about girth and formation and it was gorgeous.

  And I was going to get it back.

  “Jesus, Genny, don’t make me need to change jeans. You know better than me, Chloe will notice.”

  I tore my eyes from his crotch.

  And it was my turn to have a smug smile.

  I went to the bathroom.

  By the time I came out, with an escort of Rocco and Shasta (Killer was sticking close to Daddy in the kitchen), Duncan called, “Check texts, beautiful. I’m thinking things are not all well in Chloe’s world.”

  I went right to my phone that was lying on my bag on the island where I’d left it during the first part of the tour.

  I checked texts.

  There was an explosion of confetti effect, which did not share things were not well.

  But I got it
when I read the text.

  Welcome to the first-ever Imoway family text string. Huzzah!

  Now Bowie, you better have a martini ready for me or I’m going to kill somebody.

  “Who would she want to kill?” I asked.

  “No clue,” Duncan, pulling plates out that we were going to use to consume what appeared to be a cornucopia of deli delights. “Far’s I know, she went out to buy boots so she can ride. Has something like that ever led to homicidal tendencies before?”

  “There was a limited edition Fendi clutch she decided to pass on, then changed her mind, and went back to get it, but it was gone and there wasn’t another one available anywhere. Things were troubled for a while after that, and I know your acquaintance has been short, but my sense is, you understand that ‘troubled’ for Chloe is akin to ‘apocalyptic’ for everyone else. But she didn’t threaten to kill anybody.”

  He was chuckling at the same time saying, “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  We would.

  He moved to and then came out of the pantry with four different bags of chips.

  “I take it we’re having sandwiches and chips,” I noted.

  “I can heat up some soup,” he offered.

  “This looks delicious, darling.”

  Her jerked up his chin and went to the fridge for condiments.

  “What can I do?” I asked.

  “Give Kills a snuggle, she’s dyin’ and I got my hands full,” he answered.

  I went to get his dog and was seated at the island, giving her snuggles while she panted and watched her Daddy arrange slices of meat on a plate when I heard the garage door go up.

  “Should I not be puttin’ out meat and instead have been battening down the hatches?” Duncan asked.