Tattooed Hearts (26 page)

Whatever happened to
caution?

He had no idea what the
hell had come over him. Or why he had a lump the size of a football stuck in
his throat.

Scratch that.

He knew exactly what came
over him. He shouldn’t have gone there. He’d built a wall around his heart, a
ten-foot thick,
fifty
-foot-tall fortress around
it with no way in and no way out. For added precaution, he’d built a
treacherous moat, ready to swallow
any person who
dared to try to cross it.

Over and over he told
himself he’d never go through what he’d been through again.

Ever.

But then he looked down at
his guarded heart and it whispered,
too
late.
He’d gone down that slippery road again.

A
completely
illogical move on his part.

She was going to leave.
She had a life in Los Angeles.

He got that. He’d always
known Martha’s Vineyard was no longer her home. That was the second reason he
never pressed for an explanation or pursued anything more.

What would
be the point?

She was temporary.

He knew that.

He was a sucker.

He walked right into this
one by asking her to stay in his house with him, sharing his bed, every night.

His head spun with
confusion. No way in hell should he have suggested something as craz
y as sharing the same bed, breathing the same air for the
next few days. It was one thing to spend a night here and there until she waved
sayonara
, but instead he threw
caution to the wind and jumped into the chasm that was Claire.

The logic of the heart w
as absurd, but it still took over.

Fuck!

Pressure quickly built in
his chest. Claustrophia reached and grabbed him by the throat. Rising to his
feet, he staggered back. “I’m going for a walk.”

She quickly stood up.
 “Oh, let me put on my jeans and–"

“No,”
he said, a bit too quickly. Her brown eyes widened and he
caught hurt in them. Now he felt like a douche. Exhaling, he raked a hand
through his hair and tried to calm the fuck down. “I just need…” His voice
trailed.

What exactly did he need?

Air?

Not the b
est thing to say to someone who drove in the snow storm
twice to be with him, and it showed on her face. “Listen, Claire…”

Her hands went up. “It’s
okay.”

But it wasn’t. He asked
her to stay, and then hurt her.

This was Claire. He loved
her. She loved him.
It was all over her beautiful
face. They managed to touch happiness once more. It might even last for a long
while this time around, maybe even forever, or it may pelt them with brief
flashes. In either case, they should hold on to it. He shouldn’t be fre
aking out right now. But he’d learned happiness was like
water. It always slipped through the hands.

In about ten days she was
going to leave again.

And then
what?

See her three months from
now maybe. Hook up whenever their schedule allowed it. Eventually
that would get tiring. With Claire he always wanted that
forever…infinity.

Meaningless.
He’d have to keep things
light and not think about possibilities.

It would work.

It would have to.

Otherwise he was fucked.

“I’ll be back,” he said in
a low voice.
“An
d Claire.”
Their eyes met. “Don’t
run.”

She gave him a slight
smile. “I
’m not running
.”

Right.
He was. He shoved a hand
through his hair and walked out of the kitchen.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Follow your heart, but be quiet for a while first. Ask questions,
then
feel the answer. Learn to trust your heart.”

Anonymous

After waiting about half
an hour for Forrest to return, Claire picked up her phone and sent him a text.

I’m going to Chappy.

Her phone chirped.
Forrest’s text gleamed on the screen.

Take my truck.

Her hopes dashed. The good
feeling from earlier dissipated. Her mind cycled with options of what to do.
She could go to him. Finding him wouldn’t be a mystery. He’d be by the lake. T
hat was his spot.
His serenity.
Only she’d been down that road called
denial. His mind needed time to accept and understand what his heart already
knew.

He loved her. She loved
him.

Now fully dressed, she
grabbed the key to the Jeep and trudged down the
narrow
road banked with giant drifts of snow.

The drive to Edgartown was
rough and relentless, which made the going slow. Even the ferries to Chappy
were working on a late schedule. It didn’t matter. Today she was full of
patience. There’d be no running on
her part.

“I didn’t think you’d make
it over,” her mother greeted with a smile.

Walking into the living
room, Claire tried not to make too much of her mother’s skin radiating with
happiness.

“Is
your
um…” Her voice trailed, not quite sure
how to refer to
her mother's...
friend
?
She looked around the
cottage, anything not to focus on her mother’s happy smile and luminous skin.

“His name is Ralph.”

“Ralph,” Claire said,
mentally appraising the name. It wasn’t bad. From what she remembered, at the
potluck the
two had danced together most of the
night.

“Ralph Parker. So what
brought you here? Charles mentioned you stayed in Lake Tashmoo last night. I
figure you’d still be there.”

“I came to get my bag. I’m
going to stay with Forrest.”

Her mother arched a brow,
a
pleased look on her face. “Charles said the two of
you might have worked things out.”

Claire thought of
Forrest’s reaction during breakfast. More like they’d merely taken a step in
the right direction. “Is there anything Charles doesn’t tell you?”

Her mot
her gave her a coy smile. Something hit Claire. Her mother
always had a close relationship with the Montgomery
’
s, especially Charles.

“Mom,” Claire started,
still processing where her mind was going. “Did you know?”

Her mother busied herself
moving around
the cottage, picking up two empty wine
glasses. “Know what?”

Two physical signs gave
Claire her answer. The slight way in which her mother’s shoulders went up—her
sign of tension, and the fact she kept her gaze focused anywhere but on Claire.
Like mother,
like daughter, they were both terrible
liars.

She slumped on the sofa.
“Oh. My.
God.”

“Now, Claire,” her mother
started, face serious.

“Please.” She put up a
hand. “Give me a minute to process this.”

After a short silence, her
mother cleared her throat and
lowered her weight next
to Claire. “I’ve known Forrest was Charles’ son from the first day I accepted
the job offer to manage this place. It was part of the confidentiality
contract.”

As a person who lived by
the laws of contracts, Claire was all too fami
liar
with confidentiality agreements. At least she knew going in that fame would
bring a certain loss of privacy, but the Montgomery
’
s never had a choice. They
were born privileged, under the microscope.

The general public
harbored no sympathy for the ric
h and famous. One
false move and the tabloids would have had a field day, just as they did with
Jason after his mother’s death. Except he’d been twenty-five, even then it
hadn’t been easy for him to understand and process the intrusion. Had the truth
about
Forrest’s parentage become public knowledge
while Jason and Forrest were too young and innocent to understand the
implications, the effects would have been much more devastating.

Her stomach twisted over
the possible circus. On the Vineyard, as locals, th
ey
were protected amongst their own–like the Vegas rule.
What happens here stays
here
.
But that commandment
didn’t apply off the island.

“Victoria knew?”

“Yes,” her mother
confirmed in a low voice.

Claire let out a long deep
breath, her thoughts on Victori
a’s troubles. Behind
the smiles, the mood swings, laid secrets darker and deeper than the mysterious
sea. She struggled with an eating disorder, an unfaithful husband, who fathered
a son with his best friend’s wife. Jason mentioned his parents argued a lot
. Now it all made sense.

Her heart ached for all of
them.

“You never told me,” she
said in a subdued tone, not out of anger or betrayal but more of sadness for
everyone involved.

“Darling, first and
foremost, this is not my story to tell. Second…” She look
ed intently at her daughter. “Would that have made you love
Charles, Jason, and Forrest any less?”

There was no need to
answer that. She’d loved all of them, including Victoria. As for Forrest, she’d
love him no matter what his last name was.

“I just feel
bad for everyone. Those four were so close,” Claire said,
thinking of the relationship between Forrest’s and Jason’s parents. “To think
they had this secret between them the whole time.”

Her mother squeezed her
hand. “Forrest needs to speak to Charles and
his
mother. He can’t go on avoiding them.” She stood up and walked over to the
kitchen. Claire followed. “In the meantime, I’m really glad the two of you have
finally decided to open your hearts to each other.”

Forrest’s heart was still
locked up, but no n
eed to get into that. “Baby steps,
Mom. I’m going to pack.”

 
“You almost look happy.” A smile touched
her mother’s lips. “Almost there.”

Claire’s heart squeezed.
She was lucky to have an open relationship with her mother. Leaning in, she
gave her a hug. “T
hank you for all you’ve given me. I
love you.”

“I love you too.” Her
mother pulled her into a hug. “By the way, Ralph is coming to Vapor with me on
Friday.”

“If he makes you happy
then I’m happy.
Looking forward to
meeting him.”

A little before noon,
Clair
e pulled the Jeep into the parking area by the
pier. She quickly found a spot alongside the few vehicles of other brave ones
who dared to venture out. Other than her squeaky footsteps compressing the
crystals beneath her feet, the streets were quiet and de
serted. For so long she convinced herself the winter months on the island
were dreadful, too dark and desolate, all the shops closed. No life. Unlike the
everyday hustle in Los Angeles, Martha’s Vineyard had always been too…calm. But
today, the hush of the
town lulled her into a comfort
zone.

The little lies we tell ourselves in order to get by.
On the island she could
be herself, surrounded by friends and family. She was happy here.

She entered Vapor and took
a quick inventory of the cramped space. In spit
e of
the pile of snow lining the roads, the bar was nearly packed. This of course
was ridiculous because had Minka not sent that group text, Claire wouldn't be
out or at Vapor. As much as she loved the owners of the place, she’d much
prefer to be back in b
ed with Forrest right now. But
this was the Vineyard. Vapor and the island were salt and pepper, beer and
pretzels. One didn’t exist without the other. She spotted Adam working the bar,
oozing his typical badass vibe. Any hot-blooded woman would see a tall
, dark-haired, muscular guy like him and take a second
look. But for Claire, Adam, similar to Jason and Blake, had always been in the
brother zone.

For all the years she’d
known him, he always projected an easy-going, laid-back attitude. Until a few
months
ago, she never knew how deep his scars ran.
But today, he looked genuinely happy and relaxed, an exact opposite of the last
image she had of Forrest. His brows pulled together as he struggled with a
roller coaster of emotions. In the end he gave into avoi
dance and walked away. Funny, how the table had turned. Fate had a
thousand wiles.

“You look a little…” His
golden eyes carefully examined her as she grabbed a seat.
“Happy and sad at the same time.”

“That pretty much sums it
up.” No point denying the trut
h, Adam held a Ph.D. in
personal struggles. She glanced at her watch. The others would arrive soon,
reuniting the group of friends for the first time since Luc’s funeral. Except
for Forrest
,
he’d chosen to opt out. The rift in his friendship with
Jason, imposed by Forrest, traveled to her heart, crushing her chest.

“Forrest is not coming,”
she announced. Adam didn’t look surprised.

“And I thought I could be
an ass.”

Asses or not, she loved th
em all, and this gap in the circle and the origin of it
made her queasy. “You can be.” She chuckled. “How are you doing?”

“I’m well.”

“Still going to
counseling?”

He nodded.
“Yep.
Liliana attends once in a
while. It’s good.”

Like Jason and Blake, Adam
had
found happiness. It made Claire happy. The
circle, though a little larger now with the addition of all of their wives, was
still tight…somewhat. “I’m so glad you decided to deal with your past.”

“Some things we can only
avoid for so long.
Seltzer?”

“Please
.”

He filled the glass and
stood back.
“So why the sad face?”

“I’m in love with him.”
She had that kind of friendship with all of them where she could bare her soul
with no reservation. There was never any judgment, only support and maybe a
kick in the ass
when necessary, but never judgment.

“Tell me something I don’t
know.”

“I went to his house last
night.”

His lips twitched into a
smile.
“In the storm?”

She nodded and gulped down
some of the seltzer water.

“What is it about you
driving in the storm to be
with Forrest?”

She couldn’t help but
chuckle. “That’s funny.”

“How’s Mr. Crank the Wank
doing anyway?”

Claire rolled her eyes.

Adam uncorked a bottle of
white wine and grinned. “What? He was jacking the
johnson
instead of getting laid.
Do you know why?” He
filled two wine glasses then
peered at her.
“Because of you.
I didn’t realize it until
the funeral. But it has always been you.”

The words made her happy
and sad all at the same time. He still loved her—happy. He didn’t want to love
her—sad. “Good to know
.”