She looked leaner, the way a filly looked when it found its footing. He didn’t resist staring at her legs as she walked away, or every inch of her skin from the hem of her dress to her delicate ankles, down to her painted toenails. No, this time he didn’t look away.
Dustin watched her go up the front steps. Her hips swayed in a way that resurrected long-held memories from where he’d buried them deep.
He rubbed his temples. Good God, She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Last night he’d looked up and caught sight of her sitting in the window. He had been taken back, transported to his youth when he’d sit and wait for a glimpse of the girl who held court in his boyhood fantasies.
He’d spent many moments sitting in the dark, she upstairs doing whatever she did, alone in her room. He’d been in love with her forever.
She stopped at the door and waved. “Bye, Dustin.” She said his name softly but with a force, giving him a kick in the ribs.
He lifted his hand and then walked toward the common gate between their properties. Her father had installed it to allow each family ease of access, instead of walking the hundred or so yards down their driveways out to the road. His chest compressed. His feet were cement bags crossing the yard. How many times had he envisioned this moment of her return? Did she realize?
All because of one huge mistake, one that he’d never corrected. A lie that had played out, took two prisoners, and deeply wounded Claire. He accepted his mistake—he’d created his own heartbreak. He didn’t know if Claire ever thought of him. Why would she, considering what he’d done?
He’d innocently asked Fran to the movies back in high school, believing he’d be able to find out about Claire and perhaps enlist Fran to help him win Claire’s affection. He never thought that Fran would take vying for his affection as a challenge.
He had never believed Claire and Fran were identical twins in the ways that counted. If Fran was provoked, her true character shone through. A point he’d overlooked long ago. It had cost him. Fran did everything she could think of to attract him. When she’d found out he wasn’t gullible enough to fall for her charms, she changed tactics. She was only too happy to prove that Claire wasn’t special. Fran was ruthless enough to set him up, get him drunk, and then pretended to be Claire. Afterward, Fran laughed in his face and threatened to tell her father.
He panicked. He had been too unsure of himself to stand up against Fran, afraid of more lies, vile mistruths that she was more than capable of telling. So he did what she’d asked and pretended to be her boyfriend. In return, she’d kept his secret of being in love with Claire. He’d been seduced by a lie.
He’d taken Fran out once a week and let her hang out in his barn as he fixed his motorcycle or did chores around the farm. But that was it. He’d never kissed Fran again and never felt anything but revulsion for her and his actions.
That mistake had cost him dearly, framed his life, and now he wasn’t about to let this chance to make things right with Claire slip away.
She possessed something that struck and resonated inside him, refusing to be forgotten, embedded within his circuitry. The way she moved, the curve of her body, and good God, the scent of her. She filled him with a wordless, primal desire that made his senses go on full alert. In these few moments, it was if he’d come alive after years of searching. She was his.
Hell, he hadn’t gone all the way around the globe proving himself in the world of technology, building a career, trying to find a way to get her back only to step aside when the opportunity knocked. He’d waited long enough for Claire’s return home and had hoped it would have been this Christmas when he’d have had a chance to straighten out his life into something that resembled normalcy. Instead she was back to mourn. Not tend to long ago secrets and regrets.
He swung open the gate and whistled. Jasper came running. His dog was part black lab, part cattle dog. He barked and leapt. Dustin bent down and picked up a stick. He swung and released the bit of wood to take flight. Jasper sat, watched the stick arc, and then ran as it dropped. The dog would go nonstop, fetch and retrieve, all day long if Dustin obliged. He played with the dog as his mind retraced seeing Claire.
He walked toward the barn and pulled out his buzzing cell phone. “Mark, what’s up?”
“I’m sending you the contracts. Are you certain you want to sell? Why not think about this for a day or two?”
“No, I want to be free. There’s nothing to keep me tied up. I don’t need to think. I’ve made up my mind.”
“But the market—” Mark’s voiced edged upward.