Johnson Family 1: Unforgettable (21 page)

“Why is it important to you what I did after you were gone?” Ivy demanded. “You left, because we weren’t—” Unexpectedly, pain arrowed through her. “We weren’t a forever thing. Your words. You didn’t care about my feelings. You told me to move on and said I’d get over you. Do remember saying that?” A torrent of words gushed from her.

“And you did, is that what you’re telling me?”

They were both yelling now.

“It was impossible. How could I forget about you when I was carrying Katie? But you managed to forget about me quite well. You just turned off your emotions like that summer never even happened.” Her life had been changed, his had gone on as usual.

“That is not what happened, Ivy.”

“No? That’s exactly what happened from my point of view.”

She’d been convinced she could change him. Love him more, love him harder. But in the end, it had all been a wasted effort. He’d left her anyway and told her to forget about him, but she’d never been able to. No matter how hard she tried.

“Don’t talk about things you don’t know anything about,” he ground out.

“The poems were fake, your feelings were fake.”

He came at her. “My feelings were real. I damn near worshipped the ground you walked on.”

“You just left, Lucas!” She flailed her arms. She wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t, but it was so hard not to when the memory of his departure returned as an avalanche of anguish. “You ran halfway around the world—”

“I told you from the beginning I had plans to leave—”

“You left, without a backward glance. Didn’t I mean
anything
to you? You ripped out my heart and forgot all about me.”

“
I came back for you
!”

The pain in his face, the agony in his voice was unmistakable. His hands closed into two meaty fists as he fought against the emotional turbulence. “I came back for you, Ivy. Never. Not once did I forget about you in the past nine years. Don’t think I didn’t try.”

Ivy stared at him in stunned silence. She shook her head in denial. “You couldn’t have come back,” she whispered. “When?”

He walked away and stared out the window. He didn’t speak for a long time. He seemed to be gathering his strength, forcing himself to calm down. “I got all the way over there,” he said, “and one month in I couldn’t do it. I realized I’d made a mistake, but I’d signed a contract, and I had to fulfill my obligations.” She could only see his profile, but his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I finally convinced them to let me leave. I left my post in South Korea and made arrangements to come back as soon as possible.” When he spoke again, his voice was heavier, his tone harsher.

“I wanted to surprise you, but I came back and Mama Katherine showed me the article. Ivy Johnson, daughter of Cyrus and Constance Johnson of Johnson Enterprises. Married to her high school sweetheart.” A short, bitter laugh left his lips. “I didn’t believe it. I thought it was some stupid, made up story. I hoped it was, anyway. But it wasn’t. It was very real.” He turned to face her. “Don’t tell me about forgetting. I was gone—what…five, six weeks at the most? And you were already married to Mr. Pedigree. Mr. Everything-I-wasn’t. I wanted to fight for you, I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself because you were mine, but who the hell was I? Nobody. And you’d made your choice.”

That’s how he’d known about her marriage. He hadn’t been in South Korea. He’d been home, on U.S. soil.

“Lucas—”

“What could I give you?”

“What do you mean? I don’t want—”

“I have nothing.” He clenched his jaw to restrain himself. She could see the internal struggle in his face, in his posture. “You have everything. All this wealth, your family—you can trace your roots back for generations on both sides of your family. I left because you deserved better. You didn’t understand what you were getting with me. Nothing.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” he said, his voice harsh. “I don’t know my medical history. I don’t know who I am. Does diabetes run in my family? Do I have siblings? I may never know.” 

She hurt for him. To think, he thought he wasn’t good enough because he didn’t know his background. He thought he couldn’t compare to Winston and what his family offered.

“Lucas…”

“I listened to your stories about growing up with your brothers and your parents and your summers at Camp Atwater in Massachusetts, the Jack and Jill activities your parents made you attend so you could meet the right boys from other blue blood families.”

“I was just talking, complaining, sharing my life with you. I never thought it would make you jealous or feel insecure.”

“I wasn’t jealous. I wasn’t insecure. When you told me those stories I became curious. I’ve always been curious about other people’s lives because my life was so shiftless for the first fourteen years. I went from home to home, and I made damn sure I acted out so they would want to get rid of me because I didn’t want to need them. Mama Katherine was the only person who never gave up on me. I don’t know where I’d be if it wasn’t for her—if she hadn’t handed me a pencil and paper and said, ‘If you get angry, write it down. Put your thoughts on paper instead of running all over hell and halfa Georgia acting like a damn fool.’” That sounded like something she would say. He smiled a little at the memory. She didn’t think he could help smiling whenever he talked about his mother. “She straightened me out, but that’s my story. It’s nothing like yours. What can I possibly offer you?”

Ivy looked deeply into his eyes. “I never wanted anything from you. I just wanted you. I loved you, Lucas, and eventually I told myself I didn’t anymore. I had to, so I wouldn’t go crazy, looking into Katie’s eyes, so much like yours. Every day.
Every day
.”

“If you loved me so much, how could you marry another man so soon after we broke up? Were you really secretly engaged to him?”

“No, I wasn’t engaged to him,” Ivy said quietly.

“You weren’t?”

“I-I didn’t know that you would come back. If…” If she’d known. If she’d only known, she wouldn’t have married Winston. She wouldn’t have succumbed to the despair of thinking she’d lost Lucas for good.

“I don’t know if that makes it any better,” Lucas said. “From where I’m standing, that summer meant a helluva lot less to you than it did to me. When I found out you were married, I begged; I groveled to get my job back. I spent three years over there. I signed up for two extra years so I wouldn’t have to come back to the States.”

“I wouldn’t have married him if I’d known how you felt. If I’d known you were coming back.”

“Why? Didn’t you love him?”

“I did.” She still missed him sometimes. He’d been the perfect companion. “When Winston died, I was devastated. He was my best friend, but…we didn’t have a normal marriage. I loved him but I wasn’t
in
love with him.”

Lucas’s brows drew together into a deep vee. “What are you saying?”

“Winston and I were helping each other out. We had a marriage of convenience. My husband was gay.”

Chapter Twenty-four

Ivy told him the whole story from the beginning, filling in the blanks and responding to the invisible question marks in his research.

After confirming her pregnancy, and with Lucas gone and having made it clear he did not-under any circumstances-want to be a father, she'd married Winston out of necessity. He'd been the one to suggest it after she'd confided in him, and they'd orchestrated a self-imposed shotgun wedding.

She already had a reputation because of the sex tape and had run to the eastern part of the country to go to college and escape the knowing looks from the high society mavens and the occasional leer from her father's business associates. For the most part she'd managed to fly under the radar in Atlanta. But getting pregnant with no father in sight would only revive the rumors, and the last thing she wanted to do was end up in the papers again.

For his part, Winston felt wholly responsible for his father's defeat in the last senatorial race. Winston's sexuality had come into question by “unnamed sources.” His father had run on a conservative platform, touting family values, which had been lambasted by his opponents through innuendo. Even perfectly innocent photos of Winston in the company of other men managed to raise eyebrows.

A long time passed before they confessed the truth about Katie's parentage. By then, Ivy's father had been dead nearly two years, and the Somersets were so in love with Katie they considered her their grandchild anyway. The fact that she wasn't blood meant nothing to them.

Since Ivy and Winston didn't have a real marriage, they had an understanding. They lived together in a mansion outside of Seattle, but she had her lovers, and he had his. Eventually Winston settled down with one man, but discretion was key. He rented an apartment in his boyfriend's name in the Capitol Hill neighborhood, known for its nightlife and gay population. He and his boyfriend met there regularly.

Ivy also settled down with one person, in a more casual relationship than Winston had with his lover. Her relationship was built on trust, and because she simply liked Gil best. Initially they had their clandestine hookups in posh hotels, but when they started seeing each other more regularly, it made more sense for them to have a place of their own. She rented a pied-à-terre inside the city limits where they could meet when he was in the country.

There was the occasional rumor about their marriage being a sham, but without concrete evidence, they always fizzled out.

Winston's death had been completely unexpected. He'd complained of a terrible headache early in the evening, and though he was due back at the mansion, he'd told her he would remain at the apartment in Capitol Hill. His boyfriend had called her with the devastating news. She, with help from Cyrus, paid off the right people to keep the story quiet and released a counter story to protect Winston's reputation and the lie they'd been living all along.

Lucas hadn't said a word the entire time Ivy had been talking. He let her get it all out, and she felt spent after the confession.

“If I'd known you'd come back, I would have never done any of it.” She felt compelled to tell him again.

“Why did you get pregnant against my wishes?” he asked.

She couldn't tell if he was angry. He hardly moved, and it was difficult to see his face clearly with his back to the window.

“I was wrong. I know I was wrong.”

“Why did you do it?” he asked.

“You told me you didn't want a child. I don't blame you for being upset.”

“Why?” he prodded. He inched closer, peering at her with dark eyes that seemed to want to look into her soul.

Ivy twisted her grandmother's turquoise ring on her finger. “Because I was desperate to hold onto a piece of you,” she admitted in a low voice. “I know it was selfish, but I didn't just want a baby. I wanted your baby. I-”

She never finished her little speech.

Lucas pulled her roughly into an embrace that had their lips crashing together. The way his mouth landed on hers, it was as if he'd been waiting for this moment, for that specific confession. For her part, Ivy became a ravenous being and immediately dived into the kiss, her arms crossing behind his neck to pull him closer. It went on for an eternity, becoming more aggressive as passion overtook them.

Her tongue swooped into his mouth and her senses recognized him-his taste, the way he smelled, the way the short hairs felt under her palm as she caressed the back of his head. He kneaded her breasts and turned the nipples taut, transforming them into aching peaks that protruded from her blouse. She shuddered with reaction and wriggled against him, straining to get closer-to do anything to assuage the feverish need that now heated her loins.

No more words were needed and no need to atone for actions from the past. All that was left was a burning desire to strip naked and feel his skin against her skin.

They stumbled toward the bedroom, bouncing against the walls of the hall and clumsily tearing at each other's clothes. They couldn't get out of them fast enough. His shirt was yanked over his head and her panties discarded with a flick of her foot. Shoes, bra, trousers-all were tossed aside and left a trail to her bedroom door.

They burst into the semi-dark room and toppled on to the bed. On the mattress they rolled once, twice, until she lay sprawled beneath his muscular frame. This position she knew well and had longed for too many times to count.

His hand curled between her legs to find her hot and wet; her body jerked and she gasped at the impact. She almost couldn't breathe from the abundance of pleasure the slight touch evoked. His fingers explored the fine hairs and gently kneaded the swollen flesh, and when he slipped the middle digit between the folds, an urgent moan spilled from the depths of her throat.

She raked her tongue across his Adam's apple and dragged her teeth lightly against his earlobe. His ears were sensitive, and she felt the tremor that coursed through him. He rolled over, pulled her on top of him, and then he grabbed her butt to grind his erection into the moist cleft between her legs.

“Lucas,” she breathed, running her hands over his beautiful, dark skin.

It was almost unreal to think that she had him in her bed. Her fingers skated over the curly hairs sprinkled on his chest and traveled to the ridged muscles of his abdomen. Big and hard, he was the perfect male specimen; his body contained all the ingredients for unforgettable lovemaking-muscular arms, thick, powerful thighs, a strong back, and one long, steely erection to drive away coherent thought and the memory of any other man.