by Kaitlyn Rice
“Isabel won’t awaken this quickly,” Callie said. “She’s pretty exhausted. If I get to Luke before she does, she can sleep. I’d better go inside.”
“Wait.”
Her spot on Ethan’s lap had felt delectable a minute ago. Now it embarrassed her. She wanted to scramble off of him. Go to her baby.
Escape to her lonely life.
Ethan tugged at her top, smoothing it over her breasts and belly. As he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, he said, “I thought you might want to be presentable in case one of your sisters comes into the living room to check on Luke, too.”
Callie didn’t stir, thinking it might be best to ignore the too-intimate contact of their bodies. “Okay,” she said. “You know I won’t come back out here tonight, right?”
He didn’t move, either.
Callie held his gaze, hoping to make her silent communication clear.
This was a mistake. We can’t try again in a half hour. Please don’t make this demand on me again, and if I start something with you, ignore me.
“Right,” he said. “I’ll sneak in after I hear that Luke has quieted.”
“You’re not coming in now?” she asked.
“No. It’d be best for me to wait a few minutes,” he said. He settled his hands on her hips, pressing her downward to communicate his unspoken meaning.
He was still hard. Ready.
Of course. He wouldn’t be able to jump up and tend to a baby, turning off his desire as if it were a light switch. And yet he’d been considerate of her.
He was such a good man.
Callie might feel some small regret about getting physically involved with Ethan tonight, but stopping was worse. Mostly, she regretted not letting Ethan know that the crying baby was his.
He’d come inside anyway, if he knew.
She wondered what else he would do. Would he react in anger, in joy or in some combination that would complicate their lives forever? If she knew that, she’d know how to talk to him.
“All right.” Callie put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder and stood up, disentangling legs and blankets and emotions on the way. Then she stepped past Ethan and reentered Josie’s living room to tend to her baby.
Chapter Eight
The baby was crying again. Ethan opened his eyes just in time to watch Callie roll off the couch and peer into the crib, then pat the little guy on his bottom. “Lukey, what’s the matter?” she whispered. “Are you hungry?”
The baby quieted. Callie smiled and picked him up, cuddling him against her while she padded to the kitchen. She returned with a bottle, then sat on the sofa with Luke to begin feeding him.
When she glanced toward the recliner, Ethan closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He kept thinking if he knew Callie’s thoughts, he’d know the answer to so many riddles. Why she’d lost faith in them as a couple, for one thing. He might have left her physically, but she’d been the instigator.
He might also discover why she was resisting the divorce. She might put minor things off, but when it came to important issues, she generally took charge. Her hot-cold behavior didn’t make sense.
Or maybe it did. Maybe she was as mixed-up about their attraction as he was.
When he’d come inside last night, she’d been holding Luke, humming to him with her eyes shut. Ethan had remade his temporary bed on the recliner and within minutes Callie had put the baby in the crib, returned to the sofa and gone to sleep.
As if their private patio party had been a dream.
It was hard not to smile at the robust sounds of the baby’s drinking. Ethan peeked, noting the way the boy’s stout little hands latched onto the bottle.
Callie’s attachment to the boy was understandable.
He couldn’t imagine her handing the baby back to Isabel and heading for Denver. Saddened at that thought, Ethan squeezed his eyes closed again. Callie might be independent, but she needed people more than she acknowledged.
When Ethan heard voices coming from the bedroom, he realized that Callie’s sisters were awake, too. He should get moving. He sat up, noticing Callie’s tangled hair and the slight puffiness around her eyes that made her appear sleepy.
And sexy.
He wondered if she had slept, or if last night had upset her too much.
“Morning,” he said.
She glanced up and gave a slight nod.
Luke also spied Ethan, and grinned widely, with his teeth gripping the bottle’s nipple. Then he adjusted his fingers on the bottle, returned to his drinking and watched Callie again.
He was a really great kid.
Both Callie and the baby smiled at each other, ignoring him. “Is Luke okay?” Ethan asked, remembering that he’d been teething yesterday.
Callie leveled a gaze at him, her expression cool. “He’s fine. Just hungry.”
“What about you? Are you all right?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
So Ethan knew, then, what to expect from Callie today.
Composure.
He’d thought she might laugh about last night, saying something about reliving old feelings. Or she might have been hyperserious, trying to understand why they’d slipped and whether it had meant anything.
Either response would have acknowledged this attraction between them. Perhaps even a new caring.
But she’d closed herself off again. She was handling this in the same manner she’d handled her thoughts about the marriage—by pretending it had never happened.
He might have known.
The thing to do, he decided, was simply to follow her lead. He didn’t want to embarrass her in front of her sisters, and he was adult enough to know that even the strongest physical attraction to a person didn’t have to mean more than what it was.
He’d wanted her. She’d wanted him.
They were admitting only that.
After pressing the lever on the side of the recliner, Ethan slid off the chair and folded his blanket, stacking it on the arm. Funny, Josie had given him two. He must have left the brown one on the patio. He thought about searching for it, but when he glanced up, he caught Callie staring at his bare chest and almost-bare backside.
He still had on Josie’s gray shorts, and he’d left the robe draped over the arm of the recliner.
Callie must have seen him completely naked a few thousand times, and this wasn’t the first time her attention had had an impact. He averted his gaze, remembering how quickly she aroused him.
“We’d better get you some clothes,” she said, stepping across the room to hand the baby to him. “Take Luke for a minute. I’ll go check the dryer.”
Sometime in the night, Ethan’s clothes had tumbled dry. They were wrinkled but wearable. He dressed in the bathroom, then met Callie’s sisters in the kitchen, where they were sitting around Josie’s small table sipping drinks, nibbling on doughnuts and talking about their plans for the day.
Isabel motioned for him to help himself to coffee, and Josie nudged the box of doughnuts toward him. Neither paused in their conversation at all, yet Ethan was comforted by their casual acceptance of his presence.
He’d just taken a bite of a chocolate long john when Callie walked past him, Luke on her hip, and sat in the third chair to join in the discussion about today’s plans for furniture shopping.
She was making it quite clear, at least to him, that he should leave. He no longer fit in this kitchen with her family.
Not today.
He finished the doughnut in five bites, downed the coffee and carried his cup to the sink to rinse it and stack it in the dishwasher.
No matter what Callie thought, he fit. He’d known these girls since Josie was young enough to have scabs on her knees from falling off her bicycle. He was fairly certain he’d been Isabel’s first crush.
He fit.
Moments later, Callie’s sisters walked him to the door, thanking him for the pizza, reverting to the polite behavior that a person might lavish on company.
He responded a
s a gracious guest, but he’d preferred things the other way.
As he drove home, Ethan’s mind was full of Callie and last night. He realized that he should keep following her lead and ignore what had happened on that balcony. He should pass it off as a momentary slip and get on with his new life.
When he saw LeeAnn sitting in her car outside his house, however, Ethan admitted to himself that his new life wasn’t always a barrel of laughs. He hadn’t forgotten Lee-Ann this time. Not really. He’d simply chosen to stay in Augusta, knowing that he’d have to explain his actions to her later.
Now was that time.
He drove past her into his garage, then slid out of his car to wait for her. When she walked in behind him, he didn’t even bother trying to smile. LeeAnn must be as tired of his excuses as he was.
“Hi, stranger.” She grinned feebly at him. When her eyes fell to his wrinkled shirt, her smile disappeared.
He wore the same shirt he’d worn to the Beacon for breakfast yesterday. “I can explain,” he said. “But let’s at least go inside.”
She followed him through to his living room, and at his prompting sat on the sofa.
Ethan glanced at the mail on the floor near the door, at the closed drapes and at the blinking answering machine light. That’d be LeeAnn’s message, he was certain.
He wished he had a few moments alone at home, to read through his mail and open his drapes and think about what he was doing.
But LeeAnn was here, waiting. How could he convince himself that she was the girl for him and Callie wasn’t, when he hopped straight from one set of expectations to the next?
He sat beside her and took her hands. “LeeAnn, don’t worry. We’re fine,” he said, and paused to think.
Maybe he should simply tell LeeAnn that it was over. That he’d been thinking too much about his wife, and that his relationship with LeeAnn had fallen victim to bad timing.
But he wasn’t sure.
Callie had dismissed him. She might be physically attracted to him, but her opinions of their relationship status hadn’t changed. As far as he knew, she intended to return to Denver when her sister moved back into her house.
As far as he knew, he hadn’t been invited to return to Denver with Callie. He’d screwed that up when he’d left.
LeeAnn was exciting, pretty and available. She most certainly didn’t ignore him. If he’d never met Callie, he might be head over heels in love with LeeAnn or some other woman who’d caught his eye.
Maybe he was the victim of bad timing.
He should remember that he was going on with things. Divorcing Callie. Marching forward with a new woman who was ready for a relationship.
He could do that.
When LeeAnn raised her eyebrows to prompt the discussion, Ethan noticed the pinks and purples she’d painted on her eyelids today. Her lips were crimson. She hadn’t worn her cowboy hat this morning, so her black hair lay in loose curls around her shoulders.
Today, all her frippery looked like armor. He wouldn’t blame her if she pulled out a sword.
“We’re fine,” he repeated, feeling this time as if it were true. “You knew I went to Augusta to help Isabel.”
“Right. To rip out some old cabinets,” LeeAnn said. “I remember.”
He shrugged. “I stayed too late, that’s all. By the time I finished, it was almost nine o’clock and none of us had eaten lunch or dinner.”
“Poor thing.”
“I ordered pizza for everyone.”
She nodded. “And it took all night to eat it,” she said, her expression doubtful.
And he’d gotten physically involved with Callie. He’d gone beyond kisses to touches. If the baby hadn’t cried, he would have made love to his wife.
LeeAnn didn’t deserve this treatment. No woman did.
Ethan shoved a hand through his hair. “Listen, I’ll admit I’m confused, but I didn’t stay overnight so I could spend the time with Callie. I had some beer, and Callie’s sister was afraid that I shouldn’t drive home.”
LeeAnn’s eyes widened. “How much did you drink?”
“Not that much. A few. It’s hard to explain, but those girls grew up in a house where any drinking was considered sinful. I think their dad might have been an alcoholic. Isabel would worry about one beer.”
“She’s backward?”
Ethan felt a bristle of defensiveness.
“No, she’s not. Just sheltered.”
LeeAnn must have heard the strain in his voice. “Okay.”
“I’d already missed your second set, so I chose to stay.”
“Okay,” LeeAnn repeated.
“I slept alone on a recliner in Josie’s living room.”
For the first time today, LeeAnn smiled a real smile. She’d been worried about his sleeping arrangements, that was all. And his sleeping arrangements were the very thing that had caused him turmoil. LeeAnn was a sharp woman.
Ethan relaxed, too. “If it makes you feel better, I have a crick in my neck.”
She kept smiling, then motioned for him to turn around on the sofa. She smoothed her palms against his neck and shoulders. “Our second set went long,” she said in a voice that sounded musical now. “I came home and crashed, but when I never heard from you, I did worry. Just ignore my answering machine messages.”
“All right.”
Normally, he liked LeeAnn’s firm touch against his shoulders. Now he was ready for her to go. Ethan pulled her hands away. “That’s enough.”
“It isn’t helping?” she asked.
“I’m just tired.”
And he craved a day of privacy.
“So, what are you doing today?” she asked, still sitting behind him. She wrapped her arms around his chest.
He should make something up. That he had to work today, or that he’d promised to help someone with something, or that he was over a month late paying his taxes.
But he didn’t want to lie. He hated lying.
He just made damn excuses all the time.
“Nothing,” he said. “No plans.”
LeeAnn lifted her hands to his shoulders again, swiveling him around. Then she smiled brightly. “Want to come over?” she asked. “We could visit my folks. If you bring your swimsuit, we could use their pool.”
Swimming sounded great. Visiting LeeAnn’s parents didn’t. Nice as they were, he didn’t want to talk to them today. Or to anyone, really.
He didn’t want to try to fit into a family that wasn’t his. No matter how much a person loved their in-laws, when the marriage ended, they were often left wondering what had happened to that connection.
No way he was going to explain all that to LeeAnn. This date could be his penance for neglecting her. “Swimming sounds great,” he said.
“Good. We’re on. What are you doing Wednesday night?” she asked. “I thought we could have dinner together.”
Okay. LeeAnn deserved a night out, too. It’d be fun to dress up and hit the town. “All right.”
“I know you work next weekend, but the Saturday after that you’ll come to hear River’s Bend, right? Our new songs sound really good.”
LeeAnn was pushing his guilt buttons, wasn’t she? “I’d enjoy coming to hear you,” he said.
“And we can go out later,” she added. “It’s been a long time since we’ve gone dancing.”
It had. And Ethan could handle that, too. However, he needed to get control of his guilt before he promised away the next six months of his life. He stood up. “I’ve got some things to do this morning. Why don’t you go home and relax? I’ll pick you up in a couple of hours. Say, about noon?”
LeeAnn lifted her eyebrows. “It’s eleven-thirty, now.”
Damn.
CALLIE CARRIED Luke into Isabel’s house and discovered a small crowd. Her sister had arranged trays of store-bought cookies and iced raspberry tea on her new countertops, and she’d invited friends to come see the recently finished kitchen.
Roger stood talking to Isabel near the sink
. His shoulders were slumped and faint circles ringed his eyes. With his car keys dangling from one hand, he appeared ready to leave. He must be taking a break from his farm chores. His kids sat on the pristine tile next to the back door, crunching away at a small mountain of cookies.
Three of Josie’s friends had congregated with her over by the new refrigerator. They’d declined the sweet and simple fare, choosing instead to celebrate with beer.
Except for the church volunteers, the contractors and one other notable exception, everyone who’d played a big part in helping Isabel was here.
But then, Ethan couldn’t be here with Josie’s buddies, Roger and the kids. They all knew Luke belonged to Callie.
Thank heaven Josie had been on her toes a couple of weeks ago, when Ethan had arrived to help in the basement. She’d kept him from going inside to talk to the gang. Despite her mixed feelings, she’d covered for her big sister. Again.
And they’d all managed to invite Ethan only on days when he’d be alone with the Blumes. Keeping the secret had become as much a chore as any of the flood cleanup.
Before she returned to Denver, Callie would take her sisters out for a nice dinner. She owed them at least that.
The kitchen looked great, or at least what Callie could see of it did. White laminate cabinets and ceramic floor tiles were affordable choices, yet they made the small kitchen appear elegant. The room still had a gaping hole where the new range would be placed, but it was otherwise finished.
After Callie had walked in and greeted everyone, Josie and her gang circled her to comment on Luke’s Kansas City Royals baseball outfit, part of Josie’s birthday gift to him. Josie’s friend Gabriel commented on the boy’s superb taste in ball clubs, then Josie took the baby and invited her friends to join her in the front yard, so she could push Luke on a new plastic baby swing.
Callie crossed to Isabel and Roger. “What do you two think of the kitchen?” she asked, smiling.
Roger’s daughter shouted, catching his attention. He frowned toward his kids and didn’t answer.
“I love the countertops,” Isabel said. “I think I’m going to have fun in here.”
“I do, too,” Callie said.
