Between Then and Now
The Wardham Series
A Novella
By
ZOE YORK
Copyright © 2013 Zoe York
Smashwords Edition
DEDICATION
this is something worth fighting for
For my in-laws, who will soon celebrate forty-five years of marriage
Chapter One
Ian Nixon had never before considered heading to the pub instead of going home at the end of a work day. Eight years of scrimping and saving, crying babies and tantruming toddlers, medical troubles and family interference, and he’d always embraced the drama.
But this wasn’t something they could face together. Now the drama was between them, and he didn’t know if he could handle another chilly conversation where he ended up the bad guy when he had no clue what the problem was.
It had been a long, hot summer. Long days in the field. Too many nights spent pouring over other people’s bookkeeping. Carrie had been onboard with him picking up the extra work, but maybe those nights would have been better spent in their bed. Wrapped around his wife.
Had there been clues? Hindsight was a fucking bitch. Of course there had been clues. A bite of the lip. An indrawn breath. Wrinkled brows and shrugged shoulders. A few false starts at conversations about work and balance, but the real alarms should have gone off when all of that faded.
Silence chilled like nothing else.
It took him a few weeks to notice, because he was an idiot. Then he got mad, which didn’t help. Calling it out as passive aggressive crap really didn’t go over well. Thinking that was the end of it was even worse.
But in between the empty smiles that didn’t meet her eyes and the long-suffering sighs, happiness still flowed through and around his wife. She was at a great place with the kids. Drew had finally potty trained, and Kaylie was loving kindergarten. Her cake business was taking off, as it should, because Carrie turned sugar and butter and flour into something better than a slow fuck on a Sunday morning.
He swelled at the image of his curvy wife underneath him, kids somewhere far, far away. No, there was nothing better than a naked Carrie in the morning. But her German chocolate cake came pretty damn close.
Too bad he’d missed his opportunities to figure out what her problem was. There hadn’t been any cake, or proper naked time, in far too long. His own fault.
Ian stopped at the end of his parents’ lane. He’d been working their farm since he’d learned to walk, and until this summer, he’d never thought he’d walk away from it. But something had to give, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be his marriage. Whatever Carrie’s problem was, they were going to sort it out. Together. Because if his wife was upset, he was upset.
He lifted his foot off the ground and gunned his bike for home.
“Daddy’s going to be home any minute. Drew, get off the table. Kaylie, stop telling your brother what to do. You need to worry about yourself and let me be the mom, okay?” Carrie grabbed plates from the cupboard and set them on the counter. Cutlery. Cups of juice, glasses of water. “Drew? Would you rather milk or juice?”
“Mwilk, pwease.”
The back door swung open, and Ian stepped into the kitchen. He shrugged off his leather jacket and hung it on a high hook. Good lord, he was handsome. Tired, though. When had he started to look so weary? Her heart ached to smooth that away, make it easier for him. Before she could say anything, Drew had leapt into his dad’s arms, and just like that, Ian lit up. “Hey bud, were you a good boy today for Mommy?”
The three-year-old bobbed his head solemnly. “No timeouts, no twouble.”
“That’s what I like to hear. I’m gonna take a quick shower, you go play.” Drew hit the ground running, and finally Ian was across the room. She lifted her face for a kiss. Too quick. Never enough time. She sighed, and he tipped her chin up with one knuckle. “Hey, babe.”
“Hey.”
“Missed you today. Miss you every day.” That smile again. Too weak. What was on his mind?
“Everything okay?” He nodded and leaned in to dust her mouth with another kiss. “More,” she whispered.
His tongued darted out and swiped at her bottom lip. Eight years and she still shivered. “I need to get cleaned up.”
“Okay. Dinner’s going to be ready in ten minutes. We gotta leave for hockey practice in half an hour.” She didn’t miss the wince. Seriously? “You forgot. Ian, come on…I put it in your calendar, but you have to look at the thing!”
He lifted his hands in surrender, but it didn’t matter. Just like that, the mood shifted, and, since he must have felt it too, he turned and headed to their room. When had happiness become so fragile? How could she love her husband so much and still want to shake him silly?
They hadn’t had enough time together this year. That was for sure. She knew why he was taking on more accounts, and it was good for their finances, but she’d offered to go back to work full-time instead. If they were out of the house at the same time, they’d have more time at home together. And not just the two of them—the kids missed their dad as well.
But each time they’d talked, he’d said the same thing. Maybe next year. There’s no rush. Carrie knew his hope was that she’d get pregnant again, and it would stick this time. He didn’t need to spell it out for her. What’s the point of starting a new job only to go on maternity leave again? And daycare for three is prohibitively expensive. Just do your cakes.
Music swelled in the living room. Kaylie had managed to convince her brother to have a dance party. Two beautiful kids. Healthy and happy. That was enough. For her. Not for Ian.
They needed to talk about that. They needed to talk about a lot of things. She flipped off the oven. Not now, but maybe they could make some time.
She found Ian in the ensuite bathroom. He pulled off his t-shirt, and she paused for a moment in the doorway, letting her gaze drift lazily over his broad shoulders and long back. He was a big guy, but moved with a casual grace that took her breath away. The smooth, hard muscles in front of her flexed as he swung his arms up over his head to stretch before unbuckling his belt and letting his jeans drop to the tile floor. Heat flooded her core as she realized he’d gone commando all day.
“Hey, again.” She aimed for a sexy, cute tone, but it didn’t hit the mark. He turned with a scowl. There was a time when this would be the moment he’d flash a wicked smile and invite her to join him in the shower. Now there wasn’t a chance in hell they’d risk the kids discovering them naked together, and right now, she wasn’t sure they liked each other enough to share such a small space. “I’m sorry for snapping.”
“I’m sorry for forgetting.”
She shrugged. Not the point of this conversation. “I was thinking, maybe we could ask your parents to babysit on Saturday night?”
“Sure. What do you want to do? Go to a movie?”
It was a reasonable suggestion, but her skin prickled with irritation. Before she could stop herself, her mind was snapping back a retort. Time alone and you want to sit in a room full of strangers and not talk to each other? “I was thinking something more…just the two of us. Maybe we could stay home.”
“Why would we waste a babysitting opportunity?”
“There are things we can’t do with the kids here.” One last shot to get it, buddy. “Like, if they were at your parents, I could join you in the shower.”
He grinned and stepped closer, sliding his hands around her waist. “Okay, we can ask my parents to babysit on the weekend so we can have shower sex.”
She slapped at his back without effect as his whole body shook with silent laughter. “Ian! I’m serious.”
“I get it, babe.” He kissed her neck, squeezed her one
last time, and moved back to the shower. “You want some quality time. We’ll make that happen, I promise.”
“That’s not it—” Her protest died on her tongue as he stepped under the stream of water. It was more than just quality time, but how could she explain that to Ian when she couldn’t properly quantify it for herself?
She was still grumpy when he walked back into their bedroom a few minutes later, wearing nothing but a towel. Beads of water rolled down his bulked up chest and clung to the rectangular patch of dark hair on his still flat abdomen. The shower might have been physically cleansing, but his shoulders still sagged under the weight of whatever was on his mind.
She knew what that felt like.
“Dinner ready?” His words were slow and careful, like he was trying hard not to piss her off. Like he needed to walk on eggshells around her. Damn.
She crossed the room and slid her arms around his waist, pressing her face against the damp, warm skin over his spine. “It’s been a long year, eh?”
“Sure has.”
“Did it all used to be easier?” Under her fingers, his abdominal muscles flexed, but he didn’t respond right away. After a long silence, he took a deep breath and twisted to pull her around to his front.
“It was so long ago, babe, I don’t know either of us can rightly say.” He kissed her forehead. “I get that you want to talk, but we gotta have dinner and get to Kaylie’s hockey game, right?”
She nodded numbly. Never enough time.
Chapter Two
She fell asleep in Drew’s room that night, and by the weekend, they’d both been making such an effort to be thoughtful and considerate that when the kids were dropped off at his parents, it seemed a shame to bring the mood down with a heavy talk, so they headed to Danny’s to catch up with friends. Her closest friend, Karen Miller, was chatting at the bar with Evan West, who had been in Ian’s grade in high school, so Carrie left the men to catch up for a minute and went in search of drinks. Karen joined her.
“Where’s everyone else?”
Karen craned her neck to the back of the pub. “Ty is back there somewhere making out with his chickie of the week. Evie and Dale were here for a few minutes, but he threw a temper tantrum when Evan showed up, so they left.”
There was no love lost between either woman and their friend’s husband, whom they had long suspected was unfaithful. How anyone could cheat on Evie, who was funny and smart and drop-dead gorgeous, was beyond them. But Dale also pushed their buttons by being extra possessive of his wife, particularly around her high-school boyfriend, Evan.
Which made no sense, because Evan was pretty openly gay.
But Dale was a douche, and logic wasn’t a factor.
Besides, despite having a good week, she really wasn’t one to judge other relationships when her own might be in a precarious position itself.
Before long, the table had filled, and when Ian caught up, he pulled a chair up right behind her and leaned forward, sharing her space. His breath was hot and distracting on the side of her neck, and though he seemed to be paying attention to the conversation, his fingers were busy in the wavy tangle of hair cascading from her low ponytail.
It had been too long since she’d had his attention like this. She eased her hands backward through the slats of her chair and reached for his legs, reciprocating the gentle touch. Before long, he’d lifted all of her hair into a twisted bun, and his fingers were resting on bare skin at the top of her spine.
Prickly awareness coursed down and out from that hot contact, and she was halfway to proposing they sneak off to the restrooms when he shifted his hand sideways and squeezed her neck, holding the possessive position for a few beats before bringing his lips to the curve of her ear. “Let’s get out of here, angel.”
They quickly made their goodbyes, and a quiet thrill danced through her heart that Ian held her close until they got back to their SUV, where he held her even closer and pressed home a kiss that promised more to come at the end of their short drive.
Ian drove, and she was grateful for the automatic transmission that allowed their fingers to remain tangled even as Ian nudged the vehicle into drive. The silence was comfortable and warm, and she was torn on breaking it with chatter, but information needed to be shared.
“Karen said that Evie and Dale left before we got there. They were fighting.”
“Guy’s a douche.” Good that they were in agreement on that point. “Too bad they’ve got kids caught in the middle of that.”
“Yeah.”
“Is she going to need anything?”
“You think they’re going to break up?”
“Writing’s on the wall there. Just a matter of time.” Ouch. He wasn’t wrong, but it hurt her heart to hear the words said out loud.
“I don’t know. Her mom will probably step up. Might be good for her.” Evie’s father had passed away the previous year, and the loss of her life partner had impacted hard on Claire Calhoun. “Maybe they won’t break up.”
“Babe, some people aren’t meant for forever.” He lifted her hand to his mouth. “Some guys don’t know what they have.”
His words tugged the corners of her mouth north again. “Oh?”
“I know what I’ve got. I don’t always show it, but I’m lucky to be your husband, Carrie Nixon.”
“Best mistake ever?” She meant the words to land lightly. It was a standing joke between them, but all that had gone unsaid between them over the last few months weighed the words down on her tongue, and her voice cracked.
“Don’t do this, not tonight.” His features pinched together. He didn’t let go of her hand, but the easy softness in his grip faded, replaced with a subtle tension that told her it was an effort to keep touching her.
“I’m not doing anything,” she whispered. Tears threatened, hot bubbles at the edge of her vision.
“You’re dragging old shit into a new argument. Shit I didn’t even know was in your head. An argument I didn’t even know we were having.”
“We’re not!” Were they? Was it all one big fight that just ebbed like the tide? “I don’t know why I said that.”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. She tentatively lifted her gaze to read his expression, but he didn’t look over at her, instead keeping his eyes on the road ahead. A muscle twitched along his jaw, and she squeezed his hands, willing him to turn and see her. See that she wasn’t mad. That she was just scared and strangely alone and not dealing with that well.
“I don’t think we were a mistake.”
“Damn straight.”
“But we weren’t in love when we got married, Ian. That’s never going to be something I forget.”
“Never asked you to.”
“We just can’t talk about it.”
“We can talk about it, babe. But you can’t yell at me about it.”
“I didn’t yell.”
“You cried. That’s worse.”
“Didn’t cry. No tears.”
“Sad voice, choked up…sounded like crying. Carrie, that kills me, you know?” He dragged a deep breath into his lungs. “I just wanted an evening without a fight. Come on, let’s go in.”
With a start, she realized they were home. “Wait—” She unbuckled her seat belt and reached across the center console. “Slide your seat back.”
“Carrie, I’m not—”
“Give me a chance to get the mood back, please?” She was grateful she’d worn a skirt tonight. “Scoot back, and close your eyes.” He still hadn’t moved, but at least he wasn’t getting out of the truck. “I want to show you what I’ve got on under this skirt.”
Thank god for his healthy libido. A lecherous grin spread across his face as he flicked his gaze to her hemline. “Please tell me the answer is nothing.” She waited for his gaze to hit hers again before offering a slow nod. His already smoldering interest caught a burst of oxygen from her answer, and while he slid his seat back with his left hand, his right arm was hauling her into his lap. “We gott
a stop fighting, babe.”
“We weren’t fighting,” she whispered.
“We were doing something,” he muttered as he arranged her thighs on either side of his, his thumbs pressing hard into soft flesh. “And it wasn’t this.”
“This isn’t everything.”
“No, but it’s something. Evie and Dale, they don’t have this. They should, because she’s sweet and hot.”
“You think Evie’s hot?” This teasing was truly lighthearted. She’d never doubted Ian’s attraction to her, not even during and after her pregnancies. She’d gained an extra ten pounds with each kid that was never going away, and she hadn’t been skinny when they met. How much she bitched, now that seemed to have an impact, but thankfully it had a short half-life.
“Babe, you think Evie’s hot. I’m just stating objective facts. She’s a ten, and Dale’s not, so he’s an idiot. But I don’t want to talk about them anymore. I want to talk about…” He let the sentence drop off as his fingers disappeared into the shadow between their bodies. She sucked in a wavering breath as he curled first one and then two digits into her wet heat. “All right?”
She nodded.
“Fuck, I’m a lucky man.”
“Mmmm. Right now, I feel like the lucky one.” Thank god for private country properties. They didn’t have a farm, but they were outside of town, and their driveway curved around to a garage at the back of their house. Without a second thought, she peeled her t-shirt off in what she hoped was a sexy move. It sure felt sexy. She was hyper-aware of his breath on her chest and wanted more of that. She arched her back, riding his fingers with slow and deliberate intent, taking her own pleasure but doing so in a way that she could feel was working on him as well. His other hand stroked from her ass to her back, a hot slide toward her bra that resulted in a quick release.
“You’ve gotten good at that over the years.”
Between Then and Now Page 1
