Forever Starts Tomorrow (8 page)

‘I can’t stop thinking about some things she said.’ She had to risk his fury, which was simmering just under the thin layer of self-control, and which she could tell could slip at any moment. Dolores Martin had been a part of his life he didn’t want to talk to her about in all those months they were dating. Heck, Melanie didn’t even know the woman existed until she ambushed her during her lunch break.

‘What kind of things?’ He reached for his glass, finishing his drink in three gulps. His eyes were on her with a hawkish intensity. His coworkers must have dreaded that reaction.

‘She mentioned your stepbrother.’ There, she'd said it. The image of the boy in the photograph had haunted her through a sleepless night until she decided to confront Scott. The issue deserved her attention, however hard it might be to talk to Scott.

‘She is lying, Mel.’ That was the type of reaction she expected the least—the icy detachment, and four short words cutting the silence like the blade of a knife. Scott had already made up his mind about the boy.

‘How do you know?’ she pressed, aware that she might well be adding a nail to the coffin of their relationship in doing so. Still, she had to try.

‘How do you know it’s a lie?’ Melanie repeated, as he watched her, his dark eyes thunderous. ‘She didn’t strike me as a nice person; I will definitely give you that. And yes, I think she wants to extort money from you. But I have seen the photograph and he does look a lot like you!’ Scott had shown her numerous photographs from his adolescence, mostly cheerful snapshots of biking, shooting hoops, and roughhousing with his uncle.

‘You shouldn’t have even looked at this piece of garbage, Mel.’ Finally, his façade shattered, and he rose to his feet, agitated. ‘That is exactly what she’s praying for. Probably went through a ton of pictures searching for a kid that would look like me. Can’t be that difficult, for God’s sake!’

‘Are you serious?’ She blinked, taken aback by his explosive reaction. ‘Did you even look at it at all? There are similarities, and then there are real similarities, Scott. The boy could be your carbon copy.’

‘I didn’t waste my time.’ He walked over to the patio door, glancing outside, somber. He seemed like a stranger, and she asked herself if it was a wise decision to come and meddle in his private affairs. Was it going to ruin any chances of reconciliation?

But she didn’t regret it, even if it meant he’d cut her off for good. Would she really want to be with a man who could coldheartedly dismiss a boy whose only fault was to be his half brother? The answer was a definite no.

‘Well, you should have.’ Melanie reached in her bag and pulled out the photograph. She got to her feet and walked over to Scott, demanding to be noticed. ‘Here, take a look now. Or is it really too much to ask for, Scott?’

Challenge was good. She knew Scott well enough to know that he’d rise to it, if only to prove he wasn’t weak.

He took it, his fingers careful not to brush her skin. She watched him look at it for a second. She didn’t dare to guess what he must have been thinking.

‘Here, take it back.’ He handed it back to her, his voice brusque. ‘Happy now? He does look like me, which doesn’t mean anything. Could be photoshopped. Have you thought about that, Melanie?’

‘It could.’ There was no doubt about that. It could well be that the whole story was fabricated and that Dolores wanted money, giving nothing in return. But somehow, she didn’t think so. The important thing was to convince Scott to give it a try.

‘It’s very easy to check.’ She shrugged, the nonchalant gesture her defense. ‘Dolores gave me the address of the boy’s family. All it takes is to go there and see for yourself. Then you’ll have your answer.’

‘What makes you think that I even want to have an answer?’ He didn’t even attempt to hide his anger. ‘Maybe I don’t want to hear any of that, Mel. Did you ever think about it like that? Maybe I'm not interested in my father’s kid, after he dropped us like hot potatoes and never looked back. Would it be so unreasonable of me?’

He was hurting. Melanie could feel it in the heat radiating from his frame, the tenseness of his jaw and fire in his eyes a testament to the turmoil inside him. The knowledge of his hurt gave her courage she otherwise wouldn’t have.

‘No, it wouldn’t.’ She walked up to him, stopping only inches in front of his folded arms. ‘You have every right to be mad and disappointed, Scott. I get it, believe me.’ She reached out, her fingers tracing the strong line of his forearm, the contact just as gratifying as a kiss.

‘But I know you,’ Melanie continued, as she looked up into his face, refusing to be silent. ‘I know you’d regret it eventually. This boy isn’t your father. If he is real, he is your family, whether you like it or not. I have seen how deeply you care about your family, Scott. If you let it go by, you’ll regret it one day. I know that.’

For a second, she thought she was talking to a statue. He was perfectly motionless, a solid wall of bone and muscle. Did she overstep yet another invisible line? There were always many of those in their relationship.

Then he stirred, coming to life.

‘Why do you even care how I’d feel, Melanie?’ he whispered, his hands coming down to her shoulders as he pulled her closer, his breath fanning her face and making it hard to think. ‘You should be mad at me. Aren’t you?’

She wanted to answer properly. She wanted to make him understand how she felt, to make him see that the unexpected twist in their relationship was a godsend. However traumatizing it was for him to deal with his past, it gave them a chance to start afresh and be more honest and open with each other. She wanted to be at his side and help him in whatever way he needed her to.

She took too long to answer, and suddenly his mouth was on hers, the kiss as demanding and impatient as the man himself. Her brain disconnected, all speech impossible. All Melanie could do was to cling to him as if she were drowning, his arms her rock of salvation. She felt his hands pull her even closer, and the distance between their bodies closed. She welcomed the sensation of completeness. A week without touching him had been torture, and she couldn't endure it any longer. Her arms went around his neck, pulling him to her as her mouth opened under his lips. He didn’t need any more invitation; his tongue traced the swollen contour of her lips before moving deeper. Each stroke of his tongue against hers sent electrical currents of desire down her spine, reducing her to a bundle of nerve endings, licked by fire.

She didn’t even remember when he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. It was only when her shoulder blades touched the familiar covers that she looked up, her eyes wide open. Scott’s face loomed over hers, his passion-glazed eyes looking at Melanie with such tenderness that she felt like crying. Their lovemaking was always like that, with the barriers that he'd so carefully erected—around every aspect of his life—in shambles. In her arms, he was vulnerable and real, his warm gaze not clouded by any pretense at all.

‘Hey, don’t look so sad.’ His perceptive words made her smile. His next kiss was gentle and almost hesitant. He lay down next to her, propped on his elbow, as he surveyed her body. The blue sleeveless dress was hiked dangerously high up her slim thighs.

‘I missed that,’ he whispered, leaning closer and kissing her again, his lips moving slowly against the skin of her throat. She felt his tongue tip trace her collar bone and arched helplessly. She wanted more, Melanie thought feverishly, her hands desperate to roam over his chest. Her nails scraped the soft cotton of his T-shirt, and she felt his muscles tense in response. In one quick motion, his shirt was off, the tanned skin and silky black hair begging to be explored. Her dress followed suit, and the skin-on-skin contact sent shivers of pleasure throughout her whole body. Each small movement of his body against the sensitive skin of her breasts and stomach brought a pleasure that bordered on pain.

The sound of his phone ringing pierced the cocoon of pleasure she was burying herself in. Scott paused, his forehead against her breasts. Melanie knew the drill.

‘I am so sorry,’ he murmured softly, his eyes pleading. ‘I need to take it; it’s a call I’ve been waiting for all day.’

Of course he did. Being in charge of a company meant that he had to be available most of the time. At least, that was his definition of the job. She wasn’t crazy about it, but had come to understand and accept it over time. It was part of who he was, and she’d be an idiot to hope to cherry-pick some traits while leaving others behind. She loved him as a whole package.

Melanie nodded, forcing herself to smile. Her eyes followed his movements as he rose to his feet and grabbed his phone. He sat at the edge of the bed, his fingers idly tracing shapes on the bare skin of her shoulders, as he listened to whoever was on the other end. She shivered and sat up, ridiculously aware of her nakedness. It took several attempts to zip up her dress; her fingers were shaking badly. She didn’t worry about Scott stopping her from getting dressed. She knew his attention toward her had been totally arrested by the call.

‘Look, I can be there in… ’ He was glancing at his watch. ‘Let’s say half an hour.’

After he finished the conversation, he turned to her instantly, his expression chagrined.

‘I need to be in the office, Mel. Believe me, it’s the last thing I want to do right now.’ He kissed her lips quickly, a fleeting gesture that didn’t mean much. ‘We are trying to negotiate with a company from Taiwan, and so far, it's grueling. I mean, we could do most of the negotiations online, but their chairman insists on a conference call today, with the whole team. I could join in from here, but I really think I should be at the office in case things need to be clarified right away.’

Of course he wanted to be there. His attention to detail was famous among his friends. The idea of sitting out a call that could impact his company was a kind of blasphemy.

‘We'll be done in two hours tops, though.’ He helped her to her feet, his hand reluctant to let her go. ‘We still need to talk, Melanie. I can’t stand the thought of another week of silence. I want us to come up with some kind of a plan not to do it again, all right?’

He sounded genuinely pained. She nodded, trying very hard not to get ahead of herself and her hopes. She came here for a reason, and just because she got sidetracked, it didn’t mean she should forget it altogether.

‘What about José?’ she asked, expecting him to get upset. He didn’t. At least, not as much as she thought he would. Instead, he kissed her again, his lips lingering against her temples.

‘If this means that we'll also talk about us, I’m in.’ He pulled back and laughed softly at her surprised expression. ‘Look, Mel. I am one hundred percent sure the story is fabricated, but if it's something you feel so strongly about, we can check it out. If you really want me to follow up on this address, come with me to see him. That way, the story will be over before we know it. I can feel it.’

She nodded in agreement. There was no point trying to convince him of anything at that moment. He’d never believe it anyway. Still, his concession was a big step forward, and she would be a fool not to accept it. Their lives were about to change, and she was ready to embrace the challenge.

SIX

‘Are you sure it’s here?’

Scott bit back a sarcastic reply, his sister’s lack of faith in his mapping skills driving him crazy—not for the first time. Marnie, Melanie, and he were sitting in his car, the situation as surreal as something in a Quentin Tarantino movie. All they needed was a pair of binoculars they could share as they observed the tiny, run-down house with a front yard overgrown with weeds.

‘Yep, it’s here.’ His GPS had led him there, just about fifty miles outside of San Francisco. Dolores had mentioned that the boy lived with his grandparents, not far from where she and his father had lived for the last two decades. He still couldn’t believe that his father had lived so nearby all those years. Both he and Marnie imagined he’d move somewhere far away, the distance making it harder to stay in touch. To find out that his father was there, a one-hour drive away from his uncle’s home, felt like the last, final slap in the face.

‘It looks dreadful,’ Marnie whispered, her brown eyes worried. Scott couldn’t argue with that. The small, wooden house looked more like a shed than a livable home. One of the windows was shattered, a piece of transparent plastic replacing the glass. Someone had attempted to tame the jungle in front of the porch, cutting some of the weeds to the ground. And next to the steps was a plastic figure of a garden gnome, the colors faded from the sun and rain. The smile of the little man was creepy, and his red cape and green pants were smudged with dust.

The house was the last one on the lane, with the homes becoming progressively shabbier as they drove in. Scott heard a dog bark nearby, an urgent, aggressive bark silenced by an expletive that would make an adult blush.

‘All right, I think we should go in.’ He had seen enough and was uncomfortable with the thought of Melanie and Marnie right next to him, on this rundown road with weeds growing through cracks all around them. The sooner they got it over with, the better. His car looked modest when he parked it in front of his office, but around here, it stood out like a sore thumb.

They got out and walked up the path, aware of the fact that they were probably watched by the whole neighborhood. Just a few houses away, an elderly couple was sitting on an old couch, their weathered faces turned toward them with hopeful interest. Apparently, privacy wasn’t big in that neighborhood. Scott felt his heart beat faster with each consecutive step. He'd come here to show Melanie that Dolores had tricked her, nothing more. Melanie had given her the money she asked for and had refused vehemently to let Scott pay her back. Given the quite low price Dolores had put on the information, it couldn’t be too solid, he thought cynically, as he glanced at the old, weathered front door ahead of him.

‘Here we go.’ He knocked on the door, the short, explosive sound breaking the silence. No answer. He tried again, in vain.

‘Nobody’s here.’ He turned to the women, refusing to admit he felt disappointed. Was he insane enough to actually think he’d meet a relative there?