Deliciously Obedient (42 page)

Sandy
made a sound of disgust. Lydia looked back and forth between her
parents with a
look
of disgust.

“
You’re
judging him? Why not me? I’m the one who fucked her boss on
camera.”

“
Lydia!”
Sandy objected.

“
I
said it’s fine to say the word ‘fuck,’ Mom.”

“
That
word is the least of my worries.” Pain seared through Lydia as
Sandy’s tear-filled eyes caught hers.

“
Mom,”
Lydia said softly. “I—why didn’t you and Dad tell me you knew?”
A bitter laugh coughed out of her. “If I’d known you knew, it
would have been...well, different.”

“
Honey,
you came back here licking your wounds and it was so clear that you
needed a safe place.” Troubled eyes landed on Mike, then back to
Lydia. “A sanctuary. Camp Charles is always here for you. I wasn’t
going to pry, and I didn’t want to scare you off. So Dad and I
decided the best thing to do was—nothing.”

“
You
didn’t do nothing,” Mike said in a quiet, even voice. “You
welcomed me here, too.”

Pete
jumped in. “Your case was different. We didn’t know what the fuck
to think when you showed up.”

“
Pete!”

“
Sorry,
hon. But we didn’t. Then we realized it was better to have you
here, where we could learn more about you, than off doing God knows
what elsewhere. So we lost a daughter and gained a playboy.”

“
Former
playboy.”

Pete
snickered. Mike joined him. Sandy just shook her head with a smile on
her face. Lydia watched the whole scene in shock. Jeremy picked at a
cuticle.

“
You
two knew who I was and said nothing so you could keep me under your
watch. Meanwhile, Lydia went off to Iceland and I sent Jeremy so he
could keep Lydia under his watch. The only person here not being
watched was Jeremy,” Mike opined.

“
And
I’m the one most in need of observation.”

Lydia
sat back down on the couch and put a comforting hand on his knee.
Tension was dissipating. Her fear was lessening its grip. The air had
changed in subtle ways, and her dad was less badass. That had to
count for something, right?

“
What
I don’t understand, Mike, is why you’re here? Lydia’s with
Jeremy now.” Pete’s eyes narrowed, but when Sandy whacked his
shoulder and gave him a meaningful look, he pulled back, a flurry of
emotions crossing his face in seconds.

And
the fear came roaring back.

“
I
don’t think we need to pry,” Sandy added, standing quickly,
reaching for Pete’s hand. “Whatever Lydia and Mike and Jeremy
need to work out is really up to them.”

Her
dad went pale, realizing he’d intruded on a very personal part of
her life. And then it hit her—she didn’t have to reveal a damn
thing. Only when she was ready—if she was ever ready—would she
need to share the very private truth of what she and Mike and Jeremy
were.

If
they ever were.

Being
true to herself didn’t mean declaring it, loud and proud, to the
world. It meant being the best Lydia she could be.

And
if, sometimes, that meant keeping something within her own emotional
sanctuary, then that was fine, too. Courage didn’t mean revealing
every scrap of herself to the world. Aligning her inner life with her
outer life didn’t have to be all-or-nothing. There could be shades
of grey.

And
more than fifty, to boot.

“
Thanks,
Mom.” Lydia reached out to squeeze her shoulder and instead found
herself in a bear hug, her mother’s arms around her.

“
We
would never love you any less, Lydia,” Sandy whispered. “Everyone
has troubles, and if you’d have come to us, we’d have listened
with love. That doesn’t mean we don’t have opinions.”

Lydia
laughed through tears.

“
But,”
Sandy continued, “those opinions don’t get in the way of making
sure you know that who you are is as important as what you do.”

Pete
gave her a quick hug and said, “Ditto,” giving her a peck on the
cheek.

Mike
turned to her parents and said, “Again, I’m sorry.”

Sandy
just shook her head. “I don’t understand half of what’s
happened in the past month, but I do know what a man looks like when
he cares deeply for a woman.” She reached for Pete’s hand and
squeezed. “I’ve seen it every day of my life for the past three
decades.”

“
And
now I see it in both of you,” she added, giving both Mike and
Jeremy looks that made Lydia see that she’d thought this would be
the hard part.

As
Pete and Sandy made their leave, she stood in the quiet rec hall, the
click of the outer door leaving her, Jeremy and Mike alone, finally,
to figure out what authenticity really looked like when lived second
by second, breath by breath, thought by thought.

“
That
went well.” Jeremy made his way to a small fridge and opened it,
fishing three amber bottles out, hoping to find something to cut
through the helpless feeling that thrummed through him. “I need a
drink,” he continued, holding the other two out. Truer words were
never spoken. “Want one?”

Lydia
and Mike both took them out of his hands and the three drank in
silence, the fire crackling like neurons dying.

“
If
that went well,” Mike said slowly, “I’d hate to see what
‘poorly’ would have looked like.” The two shared a look and
Jeremy felt a veil of horror lifting. They’d lived through it. Pete
and Sandy now knew about Mike and yet...

Had
they figured out the part about Lydia
and
Jeremy
and
Mike?

For
that matter—had Lydia?

Too
many questions remained.

Must
drink more.

“
No
one lost a body part, Pete didn’t discharge a shotgun, and no one
got arrested,” Jeremy answered.

“
Nice
standards.”

“
They
work when I’m in Asia.” His own words made him pause.
When I’m
in Asia
. One look at Lydia, whose rosy lips hugged the top of the
bottle in a manner that made him hard, her delicate neck sliding with
each swallow of beer, and he realized there wouldn’t be any more
when
s.

Unless
she was with him.

The
beer didn’t make a dent in his mood as he finished it, so he got a
second. Making a mental note to himself to buy a few six packs to
replace what they drank, he saw the logical assumption there.

That
he and Mike would wake up here in the morning.

And
preferably not in the outhouse.

Lydia
had remained remarkably centered through the whole discussion. At
times, he’d thought she would fly off the handle, but
no—articulate, bold, and yet guarded, she comported herself with a
steady grace, reinforcing his feelings for her.

Mike,
too, had behaved admirably, clear and apologetic without being weak
or obsequious.

Jeremy
had performed well, too, in his role as a bump on a log.
Because—seriously? What was he supposed to do other than show up
and just listen? He hadn’t been hiding in a cabin in disguise, nor
had he lied to parental figures.

This
was, probably, the one time in his life where he had transgressed the
least
of anyone in a group.

Too
bad it felt...weird.

All
of them were shaken, and as he made his way through the second beer
he began to loosen, back relaxing and his mind able to unclench. Mike
stayed calm, unruffled, while Lydia stared wistfully at the fire, now
sitting on the couch again and quite peaceful.

Were
they all gearing up for round two? Jeremy hadn’t known what to
expect when they’d talked to Sandy and Pete. Mike’s revelation
had to happen, but to learn that they knew about the video all along
was startling.

More
than that—Lydia’s silence about his and Mike’s proposition,
about the true nature of their relationship as a triad, worried him.
Unwillingness to be open about it was prudent in some ways, but was
it also a clue into her answer for them both?

“
Can
I have another one?” she asked in a small voice, face turned up to
him, a shaky smile playing on her lips. He nearly fell over himself
to hand her his, but instead grabbed another bottle from the fridge
and popped the top for her, handling it to her with a look that said
Talk to me
.

“
Thanks,”
was all he got. Mike raised his eyebrows and sort of shook his head,
a question Jeremy couldn’t answer.

When
she got to the bottom of the bottle she turned to him with a relaxed,
aware look, then gave the same shaky smile to Mike and said, with
great authority, “Let’s go back to my cabin and talk.”

Talk?
Mike had just had enough talking, thanks. Ready to explode and
confused as all hell, he wanted to talk right now about as much as he
wanted to French kiss Jonah Moore.

Man
enough to be brutally honest and apologize to the Charles’, what he
hadn’t expected was that they knew.
Knew
. Knew about the
video, knew it was Lydia, knew he was Michael Bournham the entire
time he’d been here. Now
he
felt deceived, in a twisted way.
Always the strategist, this was one surprise that he’d never
anticipated. The finely-honed radar that prepared him for nearly
every contingency had failed him.

Miserably.

Reeling
from complex layers of information that would take months to
emotionally sift through, he found his body frustrated, his spirit
dizzy, his heart hopeful and his cock hard as fuck.

Every
time his eyes rested on Lydia, it only rose more. Being through the
big challenge of coming clean left room inside him for the teeming
emotions that couldn’t fit neatly into little boxes.

Though
she had a box he wanted to fit something in...

As
they reached the main door, Lydia pulled a barn coat off a hook and
shuffled her arms in, buttoning the front with precision. Her
common-sense approach to everything, from corporate life to
campground living, gelled with his own beliefs. The playboy persona
he’d cultivated meant nothing to him now. He’d rather split wood
with Pete, kayak for hours alone, play with alternative currencies
and stocks, or read the latest Hugh Howey novel.

And,
of course, be with Lydia and Jeremy.

The
three made their way in serial, Lydia in the lead, the two men
stumbling along unfamiliar dirt paths in the dark. Though he’d
spent the better part of a month living here, he’d not spent much
time in Lydia’s little corner, and found himself wondering how many
years you needed to invest in one place to make your way in the dark
with sure feet and a steady stride.