Every Time You Go Away by Beth Harbison

Author:Beth Harbison [Harbison, Beth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Willa

Nothing happened.

The next morning, I woke up to bright sunshine streaming in and the smell of coffee and bacon drifting upstairs. Kristin was up.

I contemplated the shower, then decided there was no point since I’d be working, so I pulled my hair back into a straight ponytail and wedged myself into some paint-splattered jeans I’d left in the closet from the last time I’d had a painting urge, about ten years and fifteen pounds ago. I didn’t have a clean painting shirt, however, so I went downstairs to get one from the master bedroom closet.

“Hey, sexy,” Kristin said, catching a glimpse of me as she closed the fridge door. “You didn’t have to get all dressed up for me!”

“Don’t get excited, I’m just looking for painting clothes.”

“Tease.”

“Hey, man, if you want to paint naked, you’re entirely welcome to.”

She took a cookie sheet of bacon out of the oven. “It would probably be easier to clean up.”

“Oh, yeah, the clothes have to be throwaways. I was going to grab one of Ben’s old shirts, I’ll get you one too.”

“Thank you, dahlink.” She gave a half bow. “Then come on in; breakfast is getting cold.”

It wasn’t so easy picking which of Ben’s shirts I was willing to ruin permanently. Once I started looking at them, I could remember so many occasions involving each—the Ralph Lauren blue button-down I’d gotten him for Christmas, the white Halston he could never keep clean, the white JCPenney backups for the Halston. Things he’d worn on holidays, ordinary days, whatever. The things that were here weren’t his first-tier choices; those were still at home. But he had a decent selection, considering that he rarely had to dress in anything other than shorts and a polo or Hawaiian shirt around here. And I wasn’t about to ruin any of those Hawaiian shirts. Maybe Jamie would want them one day. If not, well, I’d deal with it then.

I could always throw things out later, but I could never retrieve them once they were gone.

“Now, that is gonna look hot on you.”

I knew the voice before I even turned and looked.

Ben was leaning on the bedpost, arms casually crossed in front of him. A body language expert would have said he was closing himself off. Was he closing himself off from me now? In death?

As if on cue, he uncrossed his arms and ambled toward me, looking me up and down. “Go ahead, put it on.”

“You’re being creepy,” I whispered, secretly delighted that he was here and being exactly that way. It was more flirtatious than creepy, but it had always been fun to give him shit.

“I know it.” He gave a low whistle. “I like you just like this, but you really should put the shirt on, the plumber is coming to prep the table.”

“How do you know?” I put the shirt on and buttoned it up. One of the Penney’s ones. I’d gotten one out for Kristin too.

“Come on, I’ve got a few advantages in this state.”

“Willa!” Kristin called.

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