Page 18 of Perfect Day

“Sonofabitch.” He drained his beer and cast the bottle out over the cliff top, into the choppy waters below. “Son of a goddamn fuckingbitch.”

Chapter Seven

Sunday dawned bright and cold, with a strong wind blowing down from the north.

But Joshua didn’t mind the cold when he ran, so long as it wasn’t raining. This, however, was a perfect fall morning, frosty and clear, and his fuzzy head only made the idea of a run more appealing.

He had a tenuous relationship with sleep these days. It had been years (possibly eight) since he’d slept really well—the kind of deep sleep that left you refreshed and sated. Now sleep was a sketchy affair and last night had been worse than usual. A run would help clear the cobwebs and the bright sunlight would prompt his sleep-deprived body to wake up.

His usual route took him down Sandy Lane toward the cove, then up to Gorse Point and back again. It wasn’t far, maybe five miles, but enough to make his lungs burn and to keep the pounds off. Today, though, he needed to collect his car from Sean’s so he decided to run past Gorse Point and along the cliffs to Hanworth Hall instead. He doubted Sean would mind if he let himself in through the bottom of the garden and cut across the lawn to the drive at the front of the house. Probably, they’d still be asleep this early.

Finn would be, at any rate, which was the most important thing.

The low winter sun meant he needed his sunglasses, as well as a hat to keep his ears from freezing, but as soon as he stepped outside he was glad he did. The cold air zinged through him, across his skin, lifting his mood immediately. Setting off at a steady pace he jogged down Sandy Lane toward the cove—he tried not to remember walking down there with Finn in the languorous heat of midsummer—where he turned right onto the path that headed up around the rocky headland of Gorse Point. Heart pumping and legs burning, the cold made it harder to catch his breath. By the time he reached the top, he was breathing hard and dropped to a walk as he gazed out across the white-capped ocean.

This was one of his favorite places in the world. In the summer it was silent save the boom-crash of the waves and the hum of insects in the tough coastal grass. In the winter it was bleak and windswept; this morning it had all the glory of fall in the purple heathers that scattered the grass and the crisp blue sky and choppy ocean. Why his brother chose New York over this was something he’d never really understand.

Shaking out his arms, he jumped up and down to keep the blood flowing and then squinted up to where Hanworth Hall peeked over the rise of the cliff in the distance. He could see the roof of the house from where he stood and it felt strange to think that Finn was inside, that Finn’s brother owned the place that represented such a dark weight in Joshua’s life.

But perhaps it was karma? Some cosmic punishment for his lack of faith in life’s grand plan—in Finn’s grand plan. Had things been different, had he followed his heart instead of his duty, then maybe he’d be inside that house right now, curled up with Finn in bed.

Well. It was pointless speculation. The summer they’d spent together had been charmed, and Joshua knew it only grew rosier in his memory. It was too easy to imagine that the past eight years could have been just like that magical summer. Had he gone with Finn to LA, things might still have fallen apart. Maybe they’d have even been worse.

As Ruth had pointed out at the time, twenty-first century or not, a young actor like Finn—with no industry connections and nothing but his looks and talent to trade on—could certainly do without a boyfriend muddying the waters. And maybe a year into it, Finn would have realized that too and then... Well, it would have been messy. Finn was loyal to a fault and the last thing Joshua ever would have wanted was to be a hindrance to Finn’s dreams. And if Finn had been forced to choose between Joshua and his career it could only have ended in resentment and heartbreak.

I mean it, Joshua,Ruth had said,you’re doing what’s right for Finn just as much as you’re doing what’s right for you. And for both your futures.

He didn’t think his aunt had been right about his own life (in fact, he knew she’d been wrong) but he wasn’t so sure about Finn’s. The string of women Finn had dated since arriving in Hollywood suggested that Ruth had been right about the impact of a boyfriend on Finn’s career—he’d certainly chosen to appear entirely straight in public. That gave Joshua some degree of comfort; in the long run, he’d probably saved them from worse pain. Being Finn’s dirty little secret would have been agonizing for them both.

These thoughts occupied him as he ran along the cliff path, the wind at his back helping his pace. It was a couple more miles to the house and he was glad when he saw the wooden gate ahead; the sleepless night had left him with less energy than usual and he’d run far enough.

He slowed, sucking in a couple of deep breaths as he opened the gate marked “Private” and slipped into the garden. The house was quiet—it was still only seven-thirty—and the detritus from the previous night was all over the patio. It reminded him anew of Finn saying his name and he felt a harsh pang of loss.

Closing it off, he headed for the corner of the house and the driveway where he’d left his car. The windshield was icy and the engine would probably take a couple of goes to start in the cold. He hoped he didn’t disturb anyone revving the engine.

Although it sounded like somebody was already awake because he could hear footsteps pacing across the gravel. When he rounded the corner of the house he found Finn standing in the middle of the driveway, staring at Joshua’s car.

Joshua stopped, not sure what to do, but Finn had obviously heard something because he turned around. And froze.

No more than ten feet separated them and there was no one else around to ease the tension. Joshua was still breathless from his run, but his pulse felt like it was doubling every second they stood staring at each other.

And then Finn turned to go.

“Finn, wait.”

He stopped.

“I—” Joshua ran out of words. What could he say? I’m sorry? He wasn’t even sure that he was; he’d done what he did for good reasons, he’d thought he was doing the right thing. His regrets were his own business. “We don’t have to ignore each other,” he said at last.

He could only see the edge of Finn’s face, watched his gaze dip to the gravel, the muscle in his jaw jump. “Why not? Works for me.”

A catch of anger hurt Joshua’s throat, his belly. “You really hate me that much?”

Finn’s shoulders flexed. “It’s not hate,” he said, and gave Joshua a look so flat it could have been a mask. “It’s just indifference. I’ve got nothing to say to you, that’s all.”

And then he walked away and Joshua felt like his feet were rooting into the dirt, fixing him there, spiked to the ground by something that went straight through his heart.

Indifference? He’d never realized Finn Callaghan could be so cruel.

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