Rolling in Clover

by Dawn, Penny

  "No, but doesn't it look like fun?"

  "Yeah."

  "Would you like to?"

  "Do I have to, Daddy?"

  He shook his head. “No."

  * * * *

  "I'm making an appointment with the vet,” Diane said the moment Luke walked in the bedroom door. “I'm putting him down."

  "Rachael wants you to tuck her in,” Luke said, pulling his shirt from his waistband.

  "He pissed all over the carpeting in the family room."

  "I'll clean it up.” He fell onto the bed.

  "What, do you think I haven't?"

  "Our baby girl wants you."

  "I mean it, Luke. He's gone. The moment you leave him in this house, in my care, he's out of his misery."

  "Rachael wants you."

  "Abysmal existence.” Diane slammed her sock drawer and stood like a flamingo, pulling socks over her feet. “And by the way, your ring is nowhere in your office. Why don't you tell me the truth? Tell me you don't want to wear it anymore."

  "Do I have reason not to wear it, Diane?"

  "I'm putting that dog down. You'd best take him with you every time you leave, or he's history.” She stormed out of the room.

  Luke closed his eyes, picturing Kimberley Roderick in the long, black gown she'd worn to the evening's event. Elegant. Beautiful. Faking it for her husband, pretending to be the perfect wife, when less than a week ago, she'd creamed in his lap, kissed him as if tomorrow would never come.

  If only he could have stopped time at that moment...

  If he knew where it grew, he'd pick her a pocket full of clover, to keep her as lucky as she deserved to be. And with any luck at all, she'd share it with him. The way she'd shared it in her kitchen.

  CHAPTER 13

  On his way from a jobsite to the Cook County Counseling Center, Luke's cell phone rang for the eighteenth time in the past hour. What now? “Luke Jackson,” he answered, certain his most unreasonable client had thought of another item for his punch list.

  "Hi, Luke."

  The sound of Kimberley's voice sparked him, convinced him momentarily to forget the hellish morning he'd endured. “Hi, beautiful girl."

  "We need to talk. Can you meet me?"

  He glanced at the clock. “With pleasure. I've got a meeting, but how about in a couple of hours?"

  "I was hoping we could meet now. I'll be taking Allie to playgroup, and—"

  "I'm on my way to the County Center. I have an appointment—"

  "I won't take up much of your time."

  "Take up as much as you wish. I don't want to hurry with you.” How much time would cunnilingus take? Would she have time to return the favor?

  "So is now good?"

  "Yeah, if you can meet me outside the main building."

  "I'll be there in ten minutes."

  "Be careful. The roads are slick from the rain."

  "It's raining?"

  "Don't you ever look out the window?"

  "Of course, but it's been a busy morning, and I've been ... Never mind. I'll be there soon."

  Eight minutes later, she pulled up beside his truck, and with as good as she looked, he had half a mind to take her up to Schaeffer's office and make love to her on the pipsqueak's coffee table.

  "What were you doing there?” A tiny crease formed in her brow as she slammed the door of her SUV.

  Her black, double-breasted raincoat cinched at her waist with a silver buckle, and her crimson red lips matched the fire in her eyes. High-heeled, open-toed sandals clapped against the wet pavement as she made her way to his truck.

  "I took Rachael—"

  "Aren't there other dance studios and other recitals?” She refused to take her eyes from his and yanked the door open. At last, she stopped moving when she realized Derby nearly filled the entire cabin. She smiled, and a giggle escaped her pretty mouth.

  "Derby, you remember my angel,” he said, gently shoving the dog's hind end off the seat. “Come on, boy, make some room."

  Half the golden mass slid to the floor, but Derby's head remained planted on his master's lap.

  Kimberley climbed in and patted the pup's head.

  Would Derby recognize her scent? The Discovery Channel had recently run a report on dogs as eye- and nose-witnesses to crimes. Chances were the canine was more suspicious of the clues lingering in the threads of Luke's clothing than Diane.

  "He's such a sweetie,” Kimberley said. “He suits you."

  "We suit each other.” If her hand slipped from Derby's head, she'd rub something else. “I've had him since high school."

  "Look,” she said, her voice now softened, “you have to understand something. I've never been to your place. I don't know your home phone number. I've never seen your children, and there's a good reason for all of that."

  "I understand."

  "If we're caught, we're caught on my turf. And it's over for me. But you can carry on, your world undisturbed."

  "If we're caught, I'm going down with you.” He reached across Derby and held Kimberley's hand.

  "So why were you there?” she asked softly, staring at their hands.

  "I wanted to see Allie dance. I wanted Rachael to see a recital, and ... I knew you'd be there, with your husband, and I wanted to see the two of you together."

  "Why?"

  "I want to know that you're all right. If I can't have you, beautiful girl, someone should be taking good care of you."

  "Did you see the flask he was sipping on during the recital?"

  He shook his head.

  "Embarrassing."

  "I'm sorry."

  "I'm all right. I have to learn to live without you, but I'm all right."

  He kissed her hand. “If I were your husband, I'd sip on nothing but you."

  "I have to go."

  "No, you don't."

  "You have an appointment."

  "I don't care about the appointment. I'm not going, and neither are you."

  Her glance flitted from their hands to the scar at his eye, and back again. “Why do I feel this way when I'm with you?"

  "And how is that?"

  "This is wrong. Nothing about us is right, but the way I feel around you..."

  With a finger on her chin, he drew her attention and planted a kiss on her lips.

  "Is it because he doesn't make time for me? Is it because he can't keep a promise when it comes to over-indulging? Because he'd rather gamble away fun money than allow me to earn my own? Or is there something more here? Something more between us?"

  "I'm sorry I brought Rachael to Allie's recital.” He wove a hand into her curly hair. “I'm sorry I interrupted your night, and I'm sorry I tried to share something with my girl.” He thought of the way Rachael had nervously shifted in her seat, like she had to go to the bathroom, but was afraid to tell him. “She likes to spend time with her mother, and Diane wants to be damn sure she doesn't trust me.” His lips brushed against hers.

  "She wouldn't do that, Luke. No mother in her right mind would."

  "Diane's not necessarily in her right mind when it comes to me. Every day is a battle, and our children are the prize."

  She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to his hand. “You're a good father."

  "You think I'm a good father."

  "I know you are."

  "Would you like to meet Caleb?"

  Her lower lip fell a fraction of an inch, and she snapped her eyes open, shaking her head.

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah, you're right. I guess it's not really—"

  "If it's done in the right way, maybe."

  He smiled. “Maybe.” His hand slid to her stomach.

  "Leave her."

  Her abundantly clear request shocked him into silence for a few seconds.

  "God, I can't believe I'm saying it, but—"

  "You want me to leave her?"

  "You should. You keep touching me."

  "What if I promise not to anymore?"

  "If you're not happy, you should lea
ve her."

  He rubbed his nose against her neck, inhaling her clean scent. “I don't know if I can do that."

  "It's flattering to know that a woman so cold, so indifferent, so immune to your charm seems a more viable option than I do."

  "As flattering as your choosing over me a gambling alcoholic who doesn't appreciate you."

  "Noted."

  He determinedly massaged over her pelvis. “Have you scheduled the ultrasound?"

  "No."

  "I'll go with you."

  "I know, I just...” She pulled away. “I've been feeling pregnant again. That's a good sign."

  "Yes, it is."

  "You're missing your appointment,” she whispered.

  "I can still make it."

  Kimberley looked down at Luke's companion. “What about Derby? Does he go with you?"

  "I'll leave the truck running. He'll wait for me."

  "Want me to take him? You can pick him up when you're done."

  "That's all right."

  "I don't mind."

  "He's old and smelly. He'll dribble on your kitchen floor."

  "Hey, you know what? Allie occasionally dribbles on the floor, and I've cleaned chunks of my husband's stomach out of the sink. I really don't mind."

  * * * *

  "You're late,” Schaeffer said, looking at Luke over the thin rims of his glasses. “I'd written you off again."

  "Well, give me credit for this one.” He dropped into the usual chair. “I'm here."

  "Counseling is a commitment. If you can't commit to being here—"

  "I'm here. I'm sorry I'm late."

  "How are things going with the intimacy problem?"

  "It isn't my problem. It's my wife's."

  "It's your problem. Collectively."

  "Look, I want it, I'm capable. She doesn't, and she's not. The only part that's my problem is that she's getting it somewhere."

  Schaeffer snapped to attention, a look of surprise in his eyes. “Where do you get it, Mr. Jackson?"

  "Don't worry about that. Worry about the positive pregnancy test I found in the trash. Worry about where Diane's getting it."

  "You wanted to have an affair."

  Luke nodded. Yes, and he'd chosen the right woman, who'd taken his dog, not only for the afternoon counseling session, but until he finished work for the day.

  "You aren't wearing your wedding ring."

  "If your wife were pregnant—again—with another man's child, would you be wearing yours?"

  * * * *

  "I want to keep him,” Allison said, lying across Derby's belly on the powder room floor.

  "Allie, we can't. He belongs to another little boy and girl.” As did Luke. Kimberley spun his wedding ring around her thumb. “Now, come on, brush your teeth. Time for bed."

  "I don't like these pajammies."

  "All right, let's change them."

  "Really?” The little girl shot up, alert, relieving the dog of her weight.

  "Mommy doesn't feel good enough to argue about it.” The doorbell rang.

  Allison looked toward the foyer. “Who's that?"

  "Probably Derby's dad."

  "When's my daddy coming?"

  "Tomorrow.” Kimberley walked into the foyer, her head aching. “After you go to sleep tonight, wake up tomorrow, and watch Madeline, Daddy will be home.” Kimberley opened the door to a weary hunk of man. “Come on in."

  "How did it go?” Luke asked amid a yawn, tapping a hand against his thigh. “Come here, boy."

  "We're keeping him,” Allison said, emerging from the powder room.

  "Allie, say good night to Mr. Jackson and goodbye to Derby."

  She crossed her arms and stuck out her lip. “I like him, and I want to keep him."

  "Allie...” Kimberley sighed, rubbing her temples. “Luke, can you give me a few minutes? I'm just putting her to bed."

  Luke crouched, and the dog wandered over to him. “What's that, Derby? You want Allie to kiss you goodnight?” He looked up. “What do you say, Allie?"

  Her high ponytail bounced when she ran to embrace the dog. “Night-night, Derby."

  "Maybe,” Luke said, “if it's all right with your mommy, he can come play again someday."

  "Really? Can he, Mommy?"

  "I think that'd be all right. Now, come on upstairs to brush your teeth."

  "And change pajammies?"

  "And change pajamas. Come on.” She spun the ring around her thumb.

  A few minutes later, with Allison tucked into bed, Kimberley approached Luke. “Sorry about that."

  "Hmmm.” He smoothed a curl off her forehead. “She's such a pretty little girl.” He nipped her lips. “With a sexy mama.” His fingers caressed her hand, raking against his own wedding band, perched on her thumb.

  "I didn't know I had it,” she said. “I would've told you, but I just found it."

  For a split second, his eyes fell on his ring, but he looked away without taking it back. He lowered her to the granite floor, cold on her back, and enveloped a breast beneath her T-shirt. A callus where his wedding ring used to be rubbed against her flesh, when he shoved the garment out of the way.

  Derby turned his back and plopped onto the floor in front of the door.

  "You weren't going to touch me,” she said. “You promised."

  "I lied.” He lowered his mouth to her breast, his tongue encircling her nipple, his lips rolling seductively over her skin.

  "I can't, Luke."

  "Neither can I.” He turned a cheek to her bosom, wiggling a hand into her pants.

  The hard floor gnawed at her back, and his mouth landed on hers in a kiss in which his tongue softly caressed and relaxed hers, working her body with ten digits, his tongue, and her mind.

  She clenched her fingers around his wedding ring.

  "I don't have a choice,” he whispered onto her lips. “I have to be inside you.” His voice wavered, and his fingers slowly pressed into her vagina again.

  "We can't—"

  "What if I agreed to leave her?"

  "You can't do that for me. I was wrong to ask."

  He brought one hand to her cheek and continued to work her with the other. “She doesn't want me, beautiful girl. How can I live with a woman who doesn't want me?” His eyes pleaded, and he looked so young, so naïve, so in need of her, that she wanted nothing more than to please him. “Kimberley, please."

  She dragged a finger along the fourth finger of his left hand. “I wish I'd met you before."

  "You know me now."

  She pulled his hand from her face and forced his wedding ring back onto his finger.

  His little finger pressed into her one last time before he pulled his hand from her panties.

  "Your children mean everything to you,” she said. “Remember what's important."

  "Someday, I'm going to explain all this to my boy, and he'll understand the way I feel about you."

  "You don't know how you feel about me."

  "Yeah, I do."

  "No, you don't."

  "I...” He clamped his mouth shut and looked away.

  "You want to fuck me."

  He yanked his ring off his finger. “This has never been about sex. Well, maybe it was, but it isn't now."

  "Then what's it about?"

  "It's about us. About you and me. About the way I feel."

  "You don't feel—"

  "Don't tell me how I feel.” He shoved his ring into his pocket. “I..."

  "You ... what?"

  "I shouldn't say it."

  "Don't worry about hurting me. Just say it. You want a no-strings-attached sex object."

  "That's not what I want.” He looked away. “And for the very last time, I don't think you're an object."

  "What do you want then?"

  "I don't know why I want what I want. Don't think for a minute that I haven't struggled with why I want it.” His gaze shifted away, but quickly darted back.