by Susan Crosby
“It’s not funny,” Haley said. “I’d have my hands all over him. I don’t think I could do that. And he’s going to be surly because of his physical limitations and restless at not doing anything, and he’ll try to rush his recovery, and we’d fight about it.”
“Sounds terrible. And yet you’re still considering it.”
“He’s my Achilles’ heel, Jen. I worshipped him in high school. He didn’t know I existed.”
“Well, speaking from experience, I would tell you that you probably need to see it through, see what happens. But then, you’d be giving up a great job opportunity in Sacramento, one that may not come again for a long time. So, it comes down to your heart or your head. Which one wins?”
“I change my mind every five minutes.”
“How soon do you have to decide?”
“By Friday for the Sacramento job. Clint won’t be discharged from the rehab hospital for a while yet, but he’s pushing for an answer.”
“Is it possible to see Clint in person this week? Maybe you’ll find there’s really nothing there, so you wouldn’t want to give up a lucrative job with a good, long-term future for a short-term job that might only cause you grief.”
“He’s in Kentucky.”
“So? Planes fly there.”
Haley went silent for a minute, then nodded. “That’s exactly what I’ll do. I’ll make him pay for the ticket, too.”
Jenny laughed. She’d never seen her sister so riled up. “Let me know if you need a ride to the airport.”
“I will, thanks.” She marched to her car, determination in every stride.
Still the serious one, Jenny thought, but with a well of emotion she usually kept tamped down. It would be fun to watch her interact with Clint.
Jenny rinsed their lemonade glasses then decided to lie down for a few minutes. She’d just settled on the couch when the phone rang.
“I’m flying there on Thursday, but I’ll drive myself to the airport. I’ll only be gone overnight,” Haley said. “I promised to find him someone else if I say no.”
“I’m sure that made him happy.”
There was a long pause. “I don’t feel like myself, Jen.”
“I know that feeling.”
Jenny lay down again and closed her eyes but all she could see was the look on Win’s face this morning when she’d told him, I’d rather be a wife who makes love with her husband.
She’d given her sister good advice, but now she needed to make a decision herself—heart or head. She only had about nine hours to make up her mind.
* * *
Win parked his truck near the farmers’ market area, wondering if his wife would be speaking to him after he’d again avoided her question that morning. He hadn’t even kissed her goodbye, which was juvenile behavior.
It had been on his mind all day.
What would it hurt to tell her the truth? There were consequences to them making love, ones she seemed to be ignoring. Shouldn’t they talk about it?
It was something his father would do—not try to explain. It turned Win’s stomach that he might be like his father in any way.
In the middle of a transaction, Jenny smiled when she spotted him through the farmers’ market crowd. He joined her in the booth but said nothing until she was free. She surprised him with a quick kiss and hug.
“It looks like you’re almost sold out already,” he said.
“Technically I am. What’s here has been promised to others in the booths as trade. I’m getting honey and peaches in return. How was your day?”
“Fine. Are you hungry? I’m going to get a grilled sandwich. I can find something vegetarian for you.”
“I’m good. Brenna James brought me a new dish to try from her restaurant.”
“Okay. I’ll be back.”
Win enjoyed the routine of eating his dinner, listening to the music and watching Jenny behind the booth as she talked and laughed. He also enjoyed how she would glance his way now and then, as if making sure he was still there—and watching. As if that was important to her.
He hoped so.
People were warmer to him tonight, friendlier—or was it his imagination? By now everyone would’ve heard about their marital situation and the pregnancy, since nothing stayed quiet in Red Valley City for long. Undoubtedly the change in people’s reaction to him spoke to Jenny’s popularity—if she liked him, he must be okay.
Maybe he should’ve tried harder through the years to be a bigger part of the community. But mostly he’d done his job and little else. Fortunately he’d never caused any trouble, so he didn’t have a reputation to live down.
At seven o’clock he and Jenny broke down the booth and headed home.
“Have you noticed your father limping lately?” she asked as they drove.
The out-of-the-blue question caught him off guard. “No. Why?”
“Rose confided in Haley, who confided in me so that I could confide in you, that your father’s been having some trouble with his right leg, although Haley doesn’t know whether it’s his knee or his hip. Or something else altogether.”
“Like what?”
“That’s the question. You’ve never seen a hitch in his step? A grimace when he mounts or dismounts?”
“I rarely see him at all. When I do he’s already on horseback, and so am I, and he’s issuing orders.”
“Maybe you should go out of your way to take a look for yourself. I mean, Rose must be sure something is wrong, since she’s in the house with him and sees him walk.”
“Has she talked to him about it?”
“Apparently she’s pushed him toward seeing the doctor, but he refuses.”
“What a surprise.” He glanced at Jenny. “I can’t imagine Rose thinking I’d have more luck convincing him. If she can’t, who could?” No one. Win answered his own question.
Except...Win had to try. He couldn’t know something was wrong with his father and do nothing, even though it would prompt yet another argument between them.
“Did you see the new baby today?” he asked, changing the subject.
“I took a nap during the only time I would’ve had free. I’ll go tomorrow.”
At the farm, they stowed everything. He’d stopped by to shower before meeting up with her.
“I’m going to clean up,” she said, looking nervous suddenly.
“Okay.” He didn’t volunteer to join her, even though the thought of it had him creating scenarios in his head.
She emerged wearing the pink nightgown, and determination in her eyes. Her hair was slicked back, her face shiny clean. She sat next to him on the couch, as close as she could get without actually touching him. Her hands shook as she shoved them through her wet hair, but when she spoke, her voice was strong and sure.
“I refuse to have a marriage of convenience.”
Chapter Eleven
Anxious, Jenny waited for him to respond, getting more nervous by the second.
“I want to wait until your first trimester is over,” Win said finally.
“Wait for what?”
“To make love.”
She couldn’t possibly have heard him correctly. “That’s six weeks away.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s sensible. And reasonable. Considering.”
She was utterly confused. “Considering what?”
“The possibility of you having another miscarriage.” He said it in a rush, as if he was ripping off the bandage, like they’d done with her parents.
Relief struck her first. “But you want me?”
His eyebrows drew together. “Of course I want you. Why would that change?”
“I was afraid...” She shook her head. She should’ve t
hought it through instead of reacting emotionally. She should’ve figured it out on her own. Could she have pregnancy brain, as Annie called it, this early?
“Do you remember what happened last time?” he asked, his gaze direct. “It was right after we’d had sex—a particularly enthusiastic experience, as you’ll recall, because we’d been married for a few days and were enjoying the freedom that came with that. You even said so yourself—that it was different, being married. We both went a little wild.”
“I remember.”
“So we had that great night, then you miscarried right after. Right after. I don’t want to take that chance.”
“I wish you’d talked to me about this.” Tenderness enveloped her. She reached for his hands. “I spoke with my doctor about it. She said just because it happened before didn’t mean it would happen again. She emphasized it was as safe now as before, that it’s unpredictable. If it’s going to happen, it’ll happen, whether or not we have sex.”
He pulled his hands free. “When did you talk to her?”
“Last week.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know. I just wanted to be sure of what we should and shouldn’t do, so I asked.” She hadn’t wanted to grieve again, not if she could help it. According to the doctor she shouldn’t do anything differently, not unless miscarriages became commonplace for her.
“You could have included me in the visit.” He looked and sounded hurt—and was entitled to it all.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” This whole being-a-couple thing was hard to get used to. She’d been independent for so long. Sharing everything wasn’t coming naturally.
He’s your husband. He gets to know this stuff.
I know. I know.
His expression slowly shut down to a blank indifference, then he looked away. “If you don’t trust me enough to talk to me about these kinds of things, I don’t know what we’re doing here, Jen. I want to wait. Everything inside me says we should. You don’t agree, I know, but for me the temptation to give in to my physical need is too great if I sleep next to you. I have to think about it. Maybe I should use the guest room for now.”
He walked out of the house. When he hadn’t returned after fifteen minutes, she decided to wait for him in their bedroom.
The double bed felt huge without him, and cold, even in the middle of summer.
And painfully lonely.
She didn’t want him to be mad at her. Or even disappointed. And she didn’t want to sleep alone, even without passion. Jenny ran her hand down his side of the bed. She dragged his pillow against her, buried her face in it. Maybe it was her imagination, but she could smell him in the fabric, making her eyes sting from the longing.
He’s been good to you, beyond what you deserve for trapping him, no matter how unintentional. Show him it matters. That he matters. That you appreciate him.
She made her way through the house and stepped onto the porch. He didn’t acknowledge her, just continued to stare at the night sky, the stars twinkling. A cool breeze carried the scent of carnations.
She went up behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his back. “Come to bed, Win. I need you. Please. If we have to wait another six weeks for you to be comfortable, we’ll wait. But I want you beside me.”
Still he didn’t turn around. “First question, Jen. Do you worry that if we lose this baby, I’ll leave?”
She squeezed her eyes shut at the shocking directness of his question, and the fear that stabbed at her. “Yes.”
“I didn’t let you go for four years even though we never saw each other. I won’t let you go this time, either.”
Because you love me? Or because I’m legally yours, as you told my parents?
He finally faced her. “Second question. Your doctor really believes there’s no danger?”
Hope did a pirouette on her heart. “No more or less than any other pregnancy.”
She waited for him to respond. She swore she could hear a clock ticking somewhere, counting off their past, their present and their future, getting louder and louder as he looked at her in silence, not touching.
“Do people actually use the term marriage of convenience anymore?” he asked.
“I don’t know. It fits, though.” She was trying not to hold her breath as she waited for him to come to some sort of decision.
“Do you feel like we’re strangers, Jen?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
“Technically we’ve been married for four years. We’ve slept together a lot. A whole lot. At least in the past. We’re expecting a baby. But I never courted you, not in the traditional way. Did you miss that?”
“Sort of, but given our family histories we didn’t have any choice.” In truth, she’d mostly been happy sneaking off with him. “How about you?”
“Fantasies kept the relationship alive for me—remembering what really happened between us and imagining more. It’s just...we never got to know each other well.”
It wasn’t until that moment that she also realized they hadn’t. Not really. Even now they tiptoed around each other, testing each other’s reactions. “I guess not.”
He brushed her hair from her face then touched her ear, her cheek, her jaw. “I know that you like it when I kiss this spot under your ear.” He leaned forward and did just that, sending shivers through her. “And I know you like it when I drag my tongue down your neck to between your breasts.”
He brought his words to life. Jenny arched back, curving her arms around his head as he brushed his hand across her shoulder and down her arm, taking the skinny strap along.
“That’s the sort of thing I know about you,” he said. “How you react when I do that. How I react.”
Was he going to tease her or take it all the way? Had he come to accept that there was no danger in consummating their marriage, after all? Six weeks was a very long time to wait, especially sharing a bed every night.
“How does a man court his own wife?” he asked. But was there really an answer?
“I’d say you wrote the book on it,” she said, finding it hard to breathe when he dragged his fingertips over her body.
“This is foreplay, not courtship.”
“At the moment, I don’t need either one.”
Win leaned back and looked into her eyes, judging for himself. Then he gently, carefully kissed her. That was all it took. He wasn’t the one to ramp things up. She was. She wanted him fiercely, completely. She lunged at him, clung to him, demanded of him. He tried to slow things down. She wasn’t allowing it.
He kissed her, long and hard, drawing flattering sounds of need. The freedom of being married to her notched up the pleasure to an unrivaled level. He laid a hand gently on her breast. “Too tender?” he asked.
She shook her head, pressing his hand more firmly against her. He nestled his face between her breasts, listened to her heart thump against her chest, and got a little nervous that she was too excited.
“Please, Win. You can drag it out the next time. Right now I just need you.”
It was a command he felt a need to obey, for both of them, so he lifted her into his arms and carried her inside. Her nightgown slipped down and off before she got into bed, holding her arms out to him. He pulled off his clothes, tried to slow his need, but she was every dream, every fantasy come true.
“Don’t wait,” she said, pleading. “Just come inside me. Now. Please, Win. Now.”
He joined with her in a melding that was fast and intense and gratifying beyond belief, his hot skin moving against hers, her legs wrapped around him. He cupped her rear, bringing her higher, closer. He gave, she took. He took, she gave. They kissed, long, openmouthed, wet kisses as sounds of need rose from them. The hunger built, needing satisfaction. Finally,
mutually, it happened in an endless, soaring moment of completion, like nothing they’d ever experienced.
Then before he collapsed on her, he rolled, taking her along, nestling her on top of him, her legs between his.
“Next time we’ll go slow,” she said, her breath shaky against his neck, her body damp and warm.
“We can give that a shot, I suppose.”
He felt her smile against his skin.
“You may get tired of me and my demands, husband.”
“Doubtful, wife.” He stroked her back. “You’re feeling all right?”
“It’s safe to say I feel better than I have in my entire life.”
“Me, too.” And that was the truth. Nothing else even came close. Not even their affair four years ago, which was only about sex. This was...so much better.
“First time in a bed,” she said.
“I’m sure that’s what made it particularly good.”
She laughed. Then they rolled to their sides. He circled her nipples with his finger. “There are changes here already. Will you breast-feed?”
“Definitely.”
“Good.”
“The timing could’ve been better,” she said. “March due date. I should be planting the seeds about then.”
“Will you try to build the gift shop for next summer’s opening?”
“I won’t have product to distill yet. I’m even debating opening to the public next year.”
“You wouldn’t have any income to make the loan payments.”
“I would if I grow for someone else next year and sell the whole crop.” She pressed a kiss to his throat. “Enough business.”
“Even funny business?” It was the most relaxed they’d been with each other since she’d come back to the Red Valley. He didn’t want it to end, but he had the feeling that as the realities of getting a business off the ground became clearer, it would affect their relationship, too, in ways they probably couldn’t even anticipate at the moment.
“I need to get up for a minute first.” She planted a kiss on his lips, then rolled out of bed.
He enjoyed watching her walk out of the room and looked forward to watching her walk back.
