Love's Final Act (Circus of Love Romances Book 3) Page 3

  Beth

  I hit send. Now all I could do was wait and see what came back…and try not to read too much into this whole scenario. Even if my parents found out about my pending marriage, how could they possibly contact Simon? They might see his parents around town now and then, but they weren’t friends as far as I knew. Besides, why would they choose him as their method of destroying my happiness? Surely, they’d just send my brother. They wouldn’t, right? Simon must want to talk about something else. Maybe he was in town for some reason and felt nostalgic when he heard I was living here? People did that sort of thing around Christmas, right?

  I shook my head as if I could dislodge the thoughts that were growing more tangled and complicated by the moment. Checking the time, I realized it wasn’t even six o’clock. Robert wouldn’t be up for another hour, and Becca, who I also owed a text to, was a late riser. I might as well be productive with my time. Loading up the music player app on my phone, I put on something upbeat to warm-up to before I started my stretching routine.

  ∞∞∞

  When I’d stepped out of the shower, Robert was up and had joined me in the bathroom to brush his teeth. He hadn’t bothered to put on clothes, or even wrap himself in a towel. The view was a welcome one as I pulled back the shower curtain. Carefully stepping onto the bathmat, I leaned forward and gave him a peck on his neck. Resting my hand on the small of his back, I waited for him to finish.

  “Thanks for last night,” he said, once he’d rinsed. He returned his toothbrush to its holder, then twisted and gave me a minty fresh kiss.

  I leaned into him, sliding my arms around his waist. I wasn’t interested in a repeat of last night, instead I was hit with a sudden need to draw Robert close to me. I wasn’t normally the cuddly type, but the uncertainty of what Simon wanted had planted an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. Worry? Fear maybe? I rested my head on Robert’s shoulder, and squeezed with all my well-formed aerialist biceps and triceps.

  “I needed it, too.” I gave Robert another quick kiss, then parted, adjusting my towel to keep it in place as I did. “What time did you want to head over to the studio today?”

  “Why don’t we head over at two? We can run through our routine and get in a round of our own training before classes start. That way we can come straight home at the end of the night and maybe go to bed early.”

  Run our routine. I tried not to make a face as I replied, “Makes sense.”

  Robert sidestepped around me, placing his hands on my hips as he squeezed from the patch of floor space in front of the sink, to the bathmat next to the tub. “I’ll take that as a resounding agreement.”

  I tried to smile, but honestly, I was growing to loathe our duo routine.

  “Love…” Robert paused. He grabbed my hand and pressed it between both of his. Despite being naked, his hand was hot. How did he generate so much heat when I could barely keep warm when the temperature dipped? “We don’t have to do this partner number if you don’t want to. I can find someone else, a couple of students in the advanced hand-balancing class are pretty good—”

  “No, no, it’s fine. We—I—just have to keep practicing.” Cass was in the advanced class and I could imagine that she would turn murderess to do a routine with Robert—not that he was thinking of her specifically. “Besides, this was supposed to be something we could do together.”

  “Maybe we can modify the choreography to take out the hand-to-hand handstands. That’s that part you struggle the most with.”

  “And do what, instead?” The question had come out more harshly than I’d meant. We’d already dumped half of the stuff Robert had wanted to do because I simply couldn’t do it. He’d never gotten angry or accused me of anything, but it was clear he’d been disappointed when we had to shelve his more spectacular moves.

  The muscles in Robert’s jaw flexed—he was clenching his teeth—a clear sign he was growing angry. “We could figure it out, Beth. A little searching around on Instagram or YouTube, a little creativity, and we could come up with something decent.”

  “Decent?” I yanked my hand from Robert’s grasp. The bathroom had been steamy after my shower, but now the heat had worked its way into my cheeks. “If you hadn’t been so grace-less on the silks, I wouldn’t even be forced onto the ground where I have no base skills to work with.”

  Robert ran his fingers through his hair as he breathed heavily out through his nose. I was being unfair. He’d tried, he really had. He’d offered to work a routine on the silks, but he was so blockish. Before or after every move he’d square himself off, like I was sure he used to do as a gymnast, but it didn’t look good on the silks.

  “What can I say, Beth?” Robert let his arms dangle at his sides. “I can repeat everything I’ve already said on this topic if it will make you feel better, or we can stop this discussion and keep practicing. You’ll get it eventually.”

  I looked at my fiancé. I took in the bend in his nose from having never been properly set after being broken years ago. From there, my gaze slipped to the soft lips I’d spent so much time kissing last night, then I continued farther down, toward his chiselled chest. I allowed myself to enjoy the sight a moment longer until Robert cleared his throat and I forced myself to stop. His blue-grey eyes looked steadily back at me. He shrugged slightly.

  “No. There’s nothing more to say.” I shook my head. “I’m just…tired. I’m sorry. It’s fine. We can run our routine for an hour before we break off to our own training. I just need a little more time. I’ll get it.”

  The slight smile returned to Robert’s face. He nodded. “Okay. We’ll keep going.”

  Should we hug now? Or kiss? A few moments earlier I’d been feeling weirdly protective and in need of physical contact. Now after an argument I wanted to put some distance between us. I gestured toward the tub. “I should let you get on with your shower.”

  Robert half turned to follow my suggestion, then paused. “Your phone was buzzing like crazy while you were showering. I suspect Becca is up and dying to take you shopping.”

  I couldn’t contain my sigh. Fuck.

  Robert laughed. For him at least, the tension had passed. “Oh, come on, Becca’s harmless. She might beg you to try on every ridiculous, floofy dress she sees, but she’s not going to force you into anything.”

  “I know, I know,” I grabbed my hairbrush and began to smooth out my hair.

  I’d given her strict rules about what I would and wouldn’t try on over text. No lace, no tulle, no illusion netting, no puffs or bows—at which point Becca assured me I wasn’t getting married in the 1980s. Nothing white, either, I’d added after the last exchange. Then Becca asked me why I didn’t get married in my aerial tights and a tank top. I sent her a tongue-sticking-out emoji in response.

  Robert turned on the shower, adjusting it to his temperature preference. “Don’t leave her hanging for too long. She’ll start messaging you more and more if you ignore her.” Then he stepped into the tub, pulling the curtain closed behind him.

  I set down the hairbrush and grabbed my toothbrush. Once it was loaded with toothpaste, I grabbed my phone, which I’d balanced on the edge of the sink before my shower. Swiping the screen awake, I pulled up my messages: seven from Becca in the last ten minutes:

  U up? Read the first.

  Beth, U up? Text me back ASAP. We need 2 talk dresses!!!

  Dresses!!! Come on. UR getting married U need something 2 wear!!!

  Et cetera, et cetera. Still scrubbing my teeth, I slowly composed a message with my freehand. Up and getting dressed. I have until 1:30 before I have to go to the studio. I hit send and before I’d managed to finish brushing, Becca’s response came in.

  Great!!!! Come 2 my parents’ house ASAP. I have something 4 U!!!!! <3 <3

  Something for me? What could Becca have for me? A wedding present? A present for the bachelorette party I’d also refused to have? Good God. She didn’t get me lingerie, did she? With that girl, who knew? She might think it was her duty to get me
some awful lacy-see-through slip thing. I would have to smile and say, “thank you,” no matter what she had for me. If it was terrible, I could pitch it once she was off to prep for the new Cirque Celestial show she was starting in January.

  In the bedroom, I stared at the scant items in my closet. I could wear something other than exercise clothes, but was there a point? If I wore jeans and a blouse or sweater, I’d have to pack leggings, and a sports bra, and a couple of shirts, so I might as well save myself the trouble by going straight for what I knew I was going to end up wearing at the end of the day anyway. Our laundry bin was full, so I pulled out every pair of leggings I could find and sniffed. It was cold out, and I wasn’t inclined to sweat much in these conditions, so nothing smelled too bad. Nothing was terribly fresh, either.

  Once swathed in my typical garb of black leggings, tank top, long-sleeved shirt, and hoodie, I returned to the chair and grabbed my phone. Becca was being surprisingly patient. I had no new messages begging for updates on my arrival. As I was about to stuff my phone in my hoodie pocket it buzzed. I swiped, to find an email had arrived. It was from Simon.

  I tapped on the message:

  Beth,

  How about 10:30 on Saturday morning? I’m staying at the Northboro B&B on Brock St. Can you meet me there? It looks like there’s several coffee shops nearby, maybe you can suggest the best one.

  Look forward to seeing you again.

  Simon

  That was it. What. The. Hell? For lack of something better to do, I hurled my phone at the bed. It made a satisfying thump and then it sank into a pillow. No mention of anything except when and where to meet.

  Chapter 3

  I pulled into the driveway of Dehlia and Stephen’s farmhouse a little after ten. I sat in the car, hands wrapped around the steering wheel for a good minute or two after I turned off the engine, psyching myself up for whatever was going to happen when I went inside. Becca was sweet, totally harmless, but I wasn’t in the mindset to tolerate her…energy. Her response texts when I’d first announced my engagement, well, I could practically feel her hyperventilating from across the country over the phone. Her intentions were good, but I wanted this wedding to be as low fuss as possible, whereas Becca wanted there to be all the fuss imaginable.

  If I sat in the car for too long, she’d notice and would come out, full of questions and apologies, and…words. I want to get married, I reminded myself, and I want to get married to Robert. I didn’t want the hassles that came along with a typical wedding.

  I breathed deeply; fingers tightly curled. I exhaled, then slowly pried my hands from the wheel. Rachel would be there. She would help keep Becca’s exuberance under control. They were a funny mix, those sisters. One all sense, politeness and concern for social norms, the other all romantics—rom com style—and drama. They’d been my roommates in Circus of Flight and had welcomed me warmly. Becca had been prepared to plan revenge for me when things became difficult with some of the other cast members; however, when I’d been released from my preliminary contract, Rachel had contacted their parents and found me a job.

  I was indebted to them, and for this reason I was going to do my best to tolerate Becca. As Robert had pointed out, she was harmless. She wouldn’t force me into anything. I zipped my winter jacket up all the way, grabbed my mittens from the passenger’s seat, then threw open the door, and jogged to the front entrance. On the stoop, I rang the bell. Robert and I had lived with Dehlia and Stephen for the first month of our residence in Northboro—Stephen had insisted I didn’t need to wait outside like a visitor—but I couldn’t get over this formality. I didn’t have to wait long before the door was wrenched open.

  “Beth!” Before I had chance to draw breath, one of the twins—almost certainly Becca—had thrown her arms around me and hugged me tight.

  We stood on the threshold of the house, cold nipping at my back, while I could hear voices from inside:

  “Becca, let poor Beth inside.” Probably Rachel.

  “Welcome Beth in, Rebecca. Don’t force her to stand outside all day.” No one else called Becca by her full name besides her mother, Dehlia.

  “Becca, we aren’t paying to heat the outdoors.” Classic Stephen. “Get that woman inside and get her a coffee. There’s fresh pastries from The Bakery on the counter.”

  Becca released her strong hold from around my neck and before I could recover, she grabbed my hand and yanked me inside. “It’s so good to see you, Beth!”

  I may have managed to sputter out an appropriate response along the lines of good to see you too, but Becca was already hard at work unzipping my coat, disrobing me, and ushering me along into the kitchen, where her identical twin Rachel stood, pouring out coffees.

  Rachel offered me a mug rather than a hug, as she gestured for me to take a seat. Bless her. The way my morning had unfolded, it had left me more agitated than normal, and I hadn’t managed to partake in a cup of coffee. I took the offered stool at the enormous kitchen island and wrapped my hands around the hot mug. The heat warmed my hands, helping me to relax ever so slightly.

  “Good morning,” Rachel said, a slight smile tugged at her lips. “How are you?”

  I smiled back. “I’m all right, you?”

  “Glad to be on holidays, that’s for sure.” Rachel’s smile twitched and transformed into a more mysterious expression.

  As if she was reading her mind, Becca came up behind her sister and clapped her hand heavily on Rachel’s shoulder. “I’ll say. Rach is anxiously waiting for her boyfriend to get into town. She’s been moping since she last saw Jake at Thanksgiving.”

  Rachel elbowed her twin in the ribs. “Like you’re one to talk. Now that we’re done with Circus of Flight, you can’t decide whether you’re going to try to stay in touch with Mario or dump him. Decide soon, rather than string him along for months. I’m pretty sure that boy will wait for you, if you ask him too.”

  I’d heard these names, Jake and Mario, over text and email, but had never had the pleasure of meeting either of the twin’s beaus. They’d come into the picture after my short tenure with the circus—Mario was Robert’s replacement in the hand-balancing act. Jake, I understood was a talent scout with Cirque Celestial, and had found himself taken with more than their act. The latter was expected to attend as Rachel’s plus one. Mario, I’d been told, had prior family commitments that prevented him from coming to Northboro.

  “Anyways, Beth hasn’t come over for a gossip session,” Rachel’s hands had settled on her hips, with a scowl on her face to match.

  Becca stuck her tongue out at her sister. “I’m not gossiping, I’m catching her up, big difference.”

  My hands clutched my mug more tightly. “How about I finish my coffee, then you can show me whatever it is that was so important for me to come over and see.”

  Becca drew in a ridiculously dramatic breath, while flapping her hands in a cartoonish sort of way. “Oh my, God. How could I forget? Drink up, drink up. I can’t wait to show you.”

  I looked to Rachel, hoping I might get a heads up from her as to what I should expect. She merely shrugged her shoulders and gave me the fingers zipping across the lips sign. “Sorry, I’ve been sworn to secrecy on pain of embarrassment.”

  “Can I take my coffee to the surprise?” So much for a few precious minutes of relaxing—if sitting at the island listening to the twins bicker/gossip could be considered relaxing.

  The twins shared a look, which ended with Becca smiling so big it made my cheeks hurt to look at her, then she beckoning me to follow. I kept my mug firmly in my hand as I followed them upstairs to the room they still shared, even though they were twenty-one. Of course, they spent no more than a few weeks of the year in this house, as they otherwise travelled the continent with Circus of Flight. It was hard to imagine they’d been touring with the circus since they were eighteen—the age at which I’d started my aerial training—although I often suspected their early dedication to circus training may be the reason they sometimes behaved
like teenagers.

  Upstairs, Becca shut the door, then ushered me to her bed. “Stay right there, and…close your eyes or something. Or I can grab a blindfold—”

  “Becca—” Rachel interrupted.

  “Okay, okay. Just keep your eyes shut until I’m ready.”

  My insides churned. The coffee I’d relished a few moments ago had gone sour in my mouth and rested like a heavy weight in my stomach. Again, I looked to Rachel, hoping she would give me some clue. This time she smiled slightly and gave me a single thumbs up sign. With only a vague hope that I wasn’t being sucked into some horrific, Candid Camera plot, I closed my eyes and said a prayer—the first one since I was ten years old. Dear God, please, please don’t let Becca make my day worse by presenting me with the ugliest, most see-through piece of nasty lingerie imaginable. Or giving me a toaster, or anything else I’ll have to pretend to love until I can whisk it off to the nearest second-hand store.

  “Okay, open your eyes.”

  I followed the command, but I wasn’t entirely sure what I was looking at. Becca was holding a hanger, from which a long piece of white fabric hung. From what I could tell, it looked neither offensive, nor hideous. What had this girl dug up for me? She’d better not have spent any money on it—it’s not like she made much more than I did, performing in a second-tier circus like Circus of Flight.

  “You said you didn’t want to wear white, but I figured if it was a hand-me-down you might change your mind.” Becca held the dress out, fanning out the wide panels of the skirt. “It’s more of an off-white, or whatever fancy word Mom used to describe it.”

  I stood and placed my mug on one of the bedside tables, so I could touch the fabric. Smooth, but rather dense. Probably something synthetic. Okay, so it likely hadn’t cost her too much. “Where did you get this?”

  “It was Mom’s. She wore it when she got married—even then she found it in a second-hand shop,” Rachel said, while Becca held the dress up next to me. “It’s vintage to the late 1970s.”