Small Town Secret: Mayfield Springs Book 1 Read online

  Chris leaned over and put his arm around me. "Amy," he whispered gently. "Maybe we should go outside for a moment. I think you might have had a little too much to drink."

  I raised my tear-streaked face and looked at him angrily. "Don't you tell me what to do, Chris Taylor. You have no right to cast any judgment on my life."

  "I'm afraid," I stood up and grabbed my things, "that I'm going to go home now. Goodnight. You've all been just awful," I slurred. "See you at the wedding," I said as I stormed out.

  I could hear Chris chasing behind me. As I reached the front steps, I felt his hands on my shoulders. I shrugged them off angrily.

  "Amy, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I was just looking out for you that's all. I know that your life is incredibly hard, and I shouldn't have asked you about it."

  I flinched and pulled myself away.

  "I'm fine. Just going home," I said, as I fished for my keys in my handbag.

  "Whoah, there's no way you're driving home," said Chris, trying to grab the keys out of my hand.

  "What the hell are you doing?" I asked belligerently.

  "I'm trying to make sure you don't crash on the way home. You've had a bit too much wine to get behind the wheel of a car," he replied seriously.

  "Fine," I said, knowing that he was right and hating that I had to agree with him.

  "Let's walk then," I said heading off down the steps and across the car park.

  CHAPTER 11

  CHRIS

  Amy walked ahead of me down the road, her stride showing that she was still furious with me, with the world, with everything. She was just as crazy as I remembered. Over the course of the evening, I had watched her getting slowly tipsy. It was real cute, and when she finally lost her cool, I wanted to grab her in a big bear hug and wrestle her to the floor, planting kisses all over her angry face until she laughed. I couldn't do that, though, she probably would have hit me.

  She was mad as hell, and I wasn't surprised. I could see that she'd had a tough few years, and I couldn't help but feel guilty about that, for some reason. I mean it wasn't my fault that she was working in a diner; it wasn't my fault that she'd given up her dreams of a career as an artist, but I didn't treat her so well back then, and I knew that I had broken her heart. I couldn't help but feel that if I hadn't messed things up then, maybe she would be in a better place today.

  There was something so intriguing about Amy. She had left Mayfield Springs after school and moved away to become some great artistic wunderkind, only to come home years later defeated with a small child. I wondered what had happened. She was such a talented, spunky kid when I last saw her. When I was in her home last night, there were no signs of any artwork apart from a child's crayon drawings on the fridge. Her daughter's artwork, I assumed. Before I got here, I wondered if she would hate me, but last night showed that somewhere inside her she still likes me, even just a little bit.

  "Amy?" I called out to her.

  Under the streetlights, I could see that her cheeks were flushed pink in the cold night air, but it looked as though she was sobering up a bit.

  "You ok?" I asked, striding to catch up with her.

  "Yeah, just cold," she replied. "It's not the best weather to be wearing a little black dress," she joked, doing a wobbly curtsey.

  "You coulda fooled me," I said, trying hard not to notice her breasts spilling out from the top of the dress.

  "Anyway," I continued. "Those girls back there. I could see that they really got to you."

  "I don't know what you're talking about," she answered haughtily.

  "Hey," I replied trying to lighten the mood, "they were so freaking far up their own asses I'm amazed they could even walk straight."

  "From what I heard of their sex lives I'm amazed they're walking at all," she said snidely.

  I burst out laughing. She was always the best at putting people in their place.

  "I knew there was a hint of the old you lurking in there," I said, wrapping my jacket around her.

  "Oh yeah?" she looked up to me. "And you're still the charming, but arrogant jerk I remembered you to be."

  "Thanks," I said, kissing her on the forehead. "It's good to see you haven't lost your sense of humor."

  "And you haven't lost your stunning good looks."

  I could tell she spoke without thinking and then regretted it. She pulled away from me and looked embarrassed. Hugging my jacket around her shoulders against the cold, she looked to the ground as she walked off in front of me. All I could hear was the sound of her heels against the frosty road.

  "Will you talk to me for a minute," I said running after her. I tried to put an arm around her, but she pulled away. "Please, Amy?" I pleaded.

  "What about?" she said gruffly.

  "About us," I replied, grabbing hold of her shoulders.

  "Us? There is no us. I mean there was once, a long time ago but we know that wasn't meant to be," she replied. "And that wasn't my choice, Chris, that was yours," she said bitterly.

  "Don't be like that please," I responded.

  She stood still, her big brown eyes glaring up at me, her face frozen with anger.

  "You can look at me like that all you want, but I know that deep down, in there, you still like me, even if it's just a little bit."

  Amy said nothing, so I continued.

  "You can be as angry as hell with me, but I know you still hold a flame for me. I've seen the way your eyes light up when I talk about the times we had together. I can hear it in your voice when you laugh and well...I see the way you look at me. That lust from all that time ago is still in your eyes."

  "Get away from me," she said angrily. "You're so arrogant you probably just assume every girl looks at you like that. When I look at you what I remember is how you used me as some sort of holiday play thing when you were married. You lied to me about how you loved me and you dumped me when I became an inconvenience."

  I couldn't let Amy thinking that I didn't regret what I'd done to her.

  "Don't say that Amy. I was young and stupid; I didn't know what I was doing. I did love you, and I still do." I tried to hold her, but she was stiff in my arms. "I wish I could turn back time Amy, but I can't do that. But you could give me another chance..."

  "No," she said, pushing away from me and storming off up the hill that led to her house. She was a fast walker when she was mad.

  When I caught up with her at her front door I pleaded with her, "Won't you at least tell me one thing?"

  She didn't respond instead fumbling inside her handbag for her house keys, which she then dropped on the steps beside her. I picked them up for her and handed them back.

  "Thanks," she said begrudgingly.

  "Is there even the slightest possible chance that you'll forgive me someday?" I asked hopefully.

  Amy stared into space for a moment before pushing her key angrily into the lock.

  "No," she said firmly. "You broke my heart," and she walked inside and slammed the door in my face.

  I stood on the doorstep, the slammed door in my face, smarting as much as if she'd slapped me across the face.

  Then Amy opened the door again. For a moment I was hopeful that she was giving me another chance, but she only stepped back out the house to berate me some more.

  "You did more than break my heart you know that? Teenage boys break hearts, grown married men who cheat on their wives with young girls wreck lives. You wrecked my life, Chris."

  I tried to interject, but she wasn't about to give me a chance.

  She clutched at her temples as though her head hurt. "If you had an ounce of love and respect for me you would have never just left like that, and you would have at least felt some remorse."

  Tears were now flowing freely down her cheeks, and I wanted to hold her, kiss the wetness from her face and tell her I was sorry but she wasn't finished.

  "You didn't even get in touch with me once you and Stacey were divorced. You wrote me one letter. One letter," she said, pushing her finge
r into my chest. "And that was probably only to stop you feeling so guilty. And now you turn up here, and you expect me to 'forgive and forget.' Well," she said, her eyes blazing through the tears, "that's never going to happen."

  She turned on her heel and stepped back into her house, pulling the door shut behind her.

  Amy thought I'd wrecked her life. I'd always known that I'd hurt her but hearing it like that brought the reality of it home to me. It was my fault that she felt so bad about herself. I felt like a complete asshole. I stood on the doorstep not knowing what to do.

  I was surprised when the door opened in front of me. I wasn't expecting Amy to talk to me again tonight. Except that it wasn't Amy at the door, it was her mom.

  "Oh... Hi," I said awkwardly.

  "Oh hello, Chris!" Amy's mom responded. "It's so lovely to see you again. I just wish we wouldn't keep bumping into each other in the middle of the night," she laughed. "Amy!" she called back up the hall. "Chris is here."

  "Urgh! I know," Amy called back.

  Amy's mom looked shocked. "I'm sorry Chris. I don't know why she's so rude. Just make your way down the hallway to the living room. I'm sure she'll be down shortly."

  "I've just let Chris in; he's in the living room waiting for you," her mom shouted before letting herself out. I heard the front door close and listened until Amy's mom's footsteps faded down the driveway before heading upstairs to Amy's bedroom. I found her lying face down on her bed.

  "I'm sorry I broke your heart," I said as I sat down tentatively on the edge of the bed. "I never meant to. I was young and confused and just a real asshole, I'm sorry."

  Amy turned her head towards me from the pillow. "You cheated on your wife with me, and then you just left without saying a word. You got the hell out of Mayfield Springs and went back to LA without even so much as a goodbye. I've never had a relationship since being with you. I've never been able to trust anyone. You took that away from me. I'll never give my heart to anyone. It belongs to Bella now," she sniffed.

  "But do you know what's worse?" she looked me dead in the eye and simmering beneath the anger I could see glimpses of a sultry look I recognized from way back. "There are moments when I'm still crazy about you even though you did those things to me."

  I touched her arm, and she didn't recoil. Maybe things might work out.

  "Amy," I said gently. "There's never been anyone else but you. Of all the women I've ever met, it's only been you that I've held in my heart."

  I held her face and brought it close to me, close enough so that I could almost taste her breath as it lingered in front of me.

  "I want you so much," I whispered. "I'd do anything just to feel your body up close to mine."

  She pulled away once again, but I could tell there was less anger in her movements now.

  She looked down at her hands. "Chris," she said. "I want you too, more than you can imagine. But I can't fall in love with you again and have you walk out on me. I can't do it."

  "I won't. I promise," I said pulling her towards me. I could feel her resistance softening further.

  "Amy," I whispered into her hair. She looked up at me, her deep brown eyes filled with longing and I felt an inescapable physical pull towards her. I wasn't going to hold back my desire any longer, and I was now sure she was feeling the same way.

  CHAPTER 12

  AMY

  I felt so conflicted. One minute I was furious and I knew that I deserved to be.

  The little, more rational part of my brain was telling me to kick him to the curb, but the bigger, more emotional part was telling me to make passionate love to this gorgeous man and put all of my feelings of the past behind me. I was alive and on fire, with feelings and desires I'd not felt since the last time I saw him. When he whispered my name into my hair, sending tingles down my neck, through my spine and to the deepest part of me, I couldn't hold back any longer. I leaned in and kissed him, my hands pulling at his clothes and my legs tangling around his back.

  He responded passionately, pushing me down onto the bed with his hands all over me. I felt him squeeze my breasts, and I moaned in pleasure. I'd not been touched by a man in so long; I'd forgotten how good it could feel.

  I opened my legs wide, and he slid his hands down my thighs. He was breathing heavily with beads of sweat forming at his temples.

  "I could never say no to you," I cried. "You're just so bad for me Chris Taylor..."

  I pulled him closer to me, and he groaned as our bodies pushed up against each other. He tore my dress from my shoulders to reveal my breasts.

  "Oh God Amy. You're even more beautiful than I remember," he panted as he pulled off his jacket.

  As he moved to his shirt buttons and began to undo them one by one, I thought I would explode in anticipation, I was so desperate to see his body. When he slid his shirt off, I lunged at him, running my hands over his muscles with my mouth feeling every part of him.

  "You're gorgeous," I whispered in between kisses.

  As we pulled off the last of our clothes, goose bumps rose on our bodies. With the temperature dropping outside and with no money to put the heat on, the bedroom was less than cozy. But we created our own heat and pulled the blankets up over our heads. Holding each other close, we tried to take it slowly, kissing sweetly as we felt the warmth and smoothness of one another's skin.

  However, our patience didn't last long and after only a few minutes I twisted to lay on my back, and he rolled on top. As I gazed up at his face, with the moonlight shining in through the window, I was in sheer awe of him. His eyes, his face, his body, it was all so perfect and lying underneath him I felt as though I was being overpowered by a God.

  The words, I love you, were circulating in my head, and it was agonizing.

  Almost as painful as the feeling that the daughter he didn't know was his was lying asleep next door. I squeezed him as tight as I could and dug my nails into his skin, eager to feel him as close to me as possible.

  We moved together in a steady yet frantic rhythm, and I wanted to stay in that moment forever, feeling him inside me and hearing his soft moans and rasping grunts. As we looked into each other's eyes, each of us on the edge of climax, I felt as though we were deeply connected, every part of us linked and entangled in one another's hearts.

  As he climaxed, his breath came sharp and fast, and when he fell spent beside me, we cradled each other, our sweating bodies sticking together.

  "Oh...my God," he panted as he lay beside me. "You are just the best."

  "You too," I whispered, breathless from the wave of pleasure that had surged through my body.

  We lay beside each other for several moments, neither saying anything until Chris broke the silence.

  "Amy?" he said, leaning up on his elbow beside me.

  "Uh, huh," I responded sleepily, still floating on a wave of post-coital bliss.

  "Listen to me; I've got an important question to ask you."

  Now he had my attention. I propped myself up on my elbow to face him, pulling the sheets up from my stomach to cover my breasts.

  Chris looked at me seriously before asking, "Am I Bella's father?"

  In my heart, I knew I had to tell him the truth although I had no idea what to say. In the end, I kept it simple.

  "Yes Chris," I said. "You are...You are Bella's father."

  CHAPTER 13

  CHRIS

  "Yes, Chris.... You are Bella's father."

  When Amy said the words; when she confirmed what I had already suspected; I was shocked, stunned, speechless.

  I collapsed back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, suddenly noticing all the mold on the ceiling. It's strange what your mind notices when you've had a shock.

  Wow....wow...wow. Bella was my daughter. I had a daughter.

  My mind was whirling with what this meant for me; for Amy; for Bella; but all I was able to say was, "Amy, you really need to do something about all that mold." Chris you idiot, you absolute dickhead. What made you say that?

&n
bsp; Amy thwacked me across the face with her pillow.

  "That's all you can say?" she cried. "I tell you that you've got a daughter, who I have raised on my own for the last three years, and all you can say is "Amy you need to do something about the mold on your ceiling?"

  She shook her head in disbelief.

  "Get out..." she said on the edge of tears, the raging Amy returning from earlier in the evening.

  "Get out." She thumped the bed and glared at me.

  "Get out of my bed. My house. My life," she said again leaving me in no doubt that I needed to exit quick smart.

  What an idiot. I had meant to tell her how thrilled I was but that I would need some time to work out what that meant for me, for my life and us as a family and instead I told her that she had mold on her ceiling. What a dufus.

  I crept backward across the bed and put my clothes on as hurriedly as I could. I turned to see if I could at least say goodbye but Amy's head was buried in her pillow, and her shoulders heaved. I swore under my breath at my stupidity and shut the bedroom door quietly behind me.

  CHAPTER 14

  AMY

  I heard them before I was even halfway up the drive. The shrieking and giggling was piercing as it floated down from an open window. I looked up to Cassie's bedroom and saw the bridesmaids clucking around Cassie as though she was a mother hen.

  "You're just so striking Cassandra. You look positively spectacular."

  I recognized the voice as Claudette's, and I shuddered at the thought of having to see her and the other bridesmaids again. Knocking on the front door, it was the photographer who opened it. He looked stressed and exhausted, and it was only ten in the morning.

  "Hi, I'm Amy. I'm the maid of honor," I said as I stepped through the door.