by Mary Calmes
He winced. “I think so, maybe, in the very beginning. But any failing and she got compared to you, so that killed whatever was there pretty fast.”
I was stunned. “You told her about me?”
“Too often, yes.”
“How do you mean?”
“I threw you in her face a lot.”
No good could come of opening up that can of worms. “So who asked for the divorce?” I threw out, diverting the conversation.
“Me.”
“And what prompted it?”
He inhaled deeply. “One day when I was home I realized that being with my boys was all I wanted to do and that us, me and Barb, wasn’t necessary for me to have that.”
“So you got a divorce.”
“Yeah, because hiding wasn’t important anymore, just doing what was best for Bran and Ry. Me and Barb being together was bad for them.”
“And now?”
Quick flashing grin. “Well, now everything’s great. Once we stopped being married, we became very good friends.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah. When she had time to herself, weekends to herself, when she moved to Carmel and had her own space, her own life, friends, when she started her own business… the change in her was amazing. All that bitterness I caused melted away.”
“You can’t blame yourself for everything. She could have asked you for a divorce a long time ago if she was that unhappy.”
“But marriage is a contract, right? You promise to do your best by the other person for as long as you live. Barb took her vows much more seriously than I did, and she was going to be there through it all for me. She was not about to give up on being my rock.”
I smiled in surrender because there was no way to hold any little bit of residual enmity for the woman I’d always thought had my life. She’d married the man I loved, so I’d never seen her through anything but jealous eyes. But now, clearly, her path had been a difficult one, trying to coax blood from a stone. I had been missing his love, but I knew what it looked like, felt like, to begin with. She’d never been gifted with Mitch’s affection at all. “You make her sound sort of awesome.”
“She was. She is,” he conceded with a shrug. “And now that we’re friends, she’ll say things like ‘Jesus, Mitch, I didn’t know you could smile like that.’”
To never have his eyes warm when he looked at her… I couldn’t imagine such a thing. Even in the few hours we’d been talking, I had glanced up and felt the sunshine heat of his gaze. His affection for me was very apparent.
“We’re good now,” he apprised me, “and it’s the best part of the divorce.”
I had seen pictures of Barbara Thayer, and she was a stunning woman: California girl, all blonde-haired, blue-eyed Malibu Barbie in the flesh. The difference being that in all her pictures, she never smiled. I had never failed to notice the blonde mane and golden skin, but also her hollow eyes, the haunted look that screamed she wasn’t happy. Only the few pictures without Mitch, with just her and her boys, had shown the world her true beauty. It was clear she loved her children, just… not her husband. Of course, at the time, that had been wishful thinking on my part, but now I knew that I’d been right and seen what was real and not what I wanted. Theirs had been a marriage of convenience that became anything but.
“And now,” Mitch continued, “she’s a full-time very-in-demand photographer—I see her laugh and she listens like she did when we were first married, and like today, crying for me, for how I must have felt—she cares about me again.”
“Sounds like you like her too.”
“I do, so much. We are so great at not being married.”
“Do the boys miss her?”
“They do. She was withdrawn for a long time, going through the motions with me, with our life, and so they got used to being with me a lot.”
“Yeah, it sounds like they normally go on business trips with you.”
“Exactly, so, yeah, they love her, but everyone’s fine with how things are at the moment.”
“So they’ll probably be with you longer than just the six months that they’re supposed to be here.”
“Word travels fast.”
“Small town,” I apprised him.
He chuckled. “Well, yeah. Barb’s not sure if she’ll even be back in the States in six months, so we’re playing it by ear. She gave me provisional sole custody, so if anything happened in the interim, I wouldn’t have to wait for her to make any decisions.”
“Sure,” I said lamely. It was hard to hear him speak so lovingly of her even though it was clear she was out of the romantic picture.
“She’s in Ghana right now.”
“Ghana?”
He nodded.
“Wow.”
He shrugged. “She’s wildly happy, so I’m excited for her.”
I took a breath. “Do you miss her?”
“Miss her how?”
“Like, do you miss your wife?”
He was quiet a moment, thinking. “I miss having a partner, but I don’t miss Barb for me, only for the boys. We’re done as a couple; the only thing we do well together is parent.”
That was clear. “So you called her in Ghana?” I asked, done with prying.
“Satellite phone, babe, it’s a real thing.”
“Huh.”
His grin was wicked. He’d always loved to tease me, and apparently that had not changed. “We had a good talk.”
“I’m glad.”
“She was very pleased to hear that I nutted up and talked to you.”
“Oh yeah?” I croaked, still stunned that he’d told his ex-wife about me.
“Yeah, she’s been very disappointed with my attempts to talk to you.”
“Why’s that?” I asked because, why would she even care?
“Because our entire marriage, all she heard was Hagen would have gotten that, Hagen would have thought that was funny, Hagen actually liked to have sex with me.”
“Ah. So she basically hates me,” I replied flatly, not really minding as I’d been bitterly jealous of her for years.
He tipped his head, giving that some thought. “Yeah, pretty much.”
I chuckled.
“That was a nice diversion, by the way.”
“Pardon me?”
“You going from you to the kids—not bad.”
My face heated. “Fuck you, Thayer. I was worried about—”
“Yeah, I know you are,” he soothed, his smile gentle, his tone like slowly poured honey. “I know you care about the kids.”
I glared at him.
“But I also know you don’t want to talk about what happened to you and I think you need to tell it—and especially to me.”
“And why’s that?” I asked snidely, the anger flaring fast since it was there, right there, bubbling below the surface. “You think you can help me?”
“I do.”
“Well, you can’t,” I snapped, rinsing my hands and shutting off the water before snatching the towel off his shoulder. “It’s my shit to deal with.”
“Why?”
I balled up the towel and hurled it back at him, which was stupid and only made me madder. I pivoted and charged toward the back door that led out onto the deck.
He caught me there, hand above mine so it wouldn’t budge.
“Let go.”
“Fuck no, never again.”
I turned my head to see his face. “The hell does that mean?”
“It means that I’m not going anywhere, you stupid shit. I’m back and we’re gonna fix this because we both know I’m the best thing for you.”
I took a step back. “You left.”
“I had too.”
“I don’t mean—” I growled because yes, he was right, that was always going to happen. Him leaving had not actually been the problem. “You walked away from me.”
“I did.”
I exhaled, feeling calm wash over me. “That’s the problem,” I said, walking back to the kitchen
table and taking hold of the back of one of the chairs. “It’s not the leaving, it’s everything that came after.”
“I know,” he agreed, following me, moving so that we faced each other. “I fucked up. I made a mistake and I’m here to make amends.”
I shook my head. “It won’t change anything.”
“It has to. Because after you make me do penance, then you’ll take me back.”
“Are you insane?”
He waggled his head. “Possibly.”
“Mitch, it’s over. We’re over.”
“No.”
“You can’t just say no and that make it so.”
“I think it does.”
I threw up my hands. “You don’t get a say.”
“I think I do.”
“How? How do you get a say?”
“Because I can help with whatever your deal is. Because you trust me.”
I scoffed. “I so don’t trust you.”
“I call bullshit,” he said confidently, smirking in that way he had. I wanted to deck him. “You may be pissed at me, but you’ve never quit having faith.”
“I don’t trust you not to hurt me,” I shot back. Him being smug never failed to piss me off.
“Emotionally, mentally, sure,” he agreed. “I’ll buy that. But physically—” He squinted at me. “—gimme a break. You know you’re safe with me.”
Of all the things he could have said, that was the one I couldn’t argue with.
He was right, as evidenced by the kiss earlier: I did trust him with my body. It was engrained in me to know he’d never hurt me, never turn on me, that part of who I was had imprinted on him years ago and remained unchanged, untouched by any life experience. Down deep, where it mattered, I knew Mitch like I knew myself, which gave his words a weight no one else’s could have.
“You need me,” he husked, his gaze heavy on me. “And I sure as hell need you.”
Deflated, all the anger running out of me, I felt the tremble run through me as his smile got bigger and more confident with every passing second.
“Gonna be mine, you’ll see.”
I didn’t have anything left in my arsenal to fire at him.
“My kids already love you, and you know how I feel. Why would you not want us all in your life?”
The knot in my throat was hard to speak around. “You’re not all mine to have, Mitch.”
“Oh no? I think you need to check again.”
It wasn’t fair. The idea of a husband and kids, a family to share my house, my business, my whole life with, that was my dream. How dare he come charging into my life and show me what was possible when I didn’t trust him not to pull the rug right out from under me? I could never put myself in the position to have nothing again. But the dream was right there, like a pulse, beating under my skin.
“Cash and prizes await,” he said playfully. “All you have to do is believe.”
That was the problem. I was pretty sure that what could be was never going to materialize.
“Nothing’s over, Hage,” he whispered. “Not yet. I got here in the nick of time.”
I wasn’t quite as certain.
I NEVER knew kids were such amazing buffers. I’d never had any around during truly awkward times. But holy cow, were they great.
I plunked myself down between the boys and Mitch got stuck sitting to the right of Ryder, who curled up in his lap. Nothing killed the libido like having a cute kid snuggling up to you. What was funny was that halfway through the movie, I looked around and I was the only one awake. The feeling of contentment, watching them all sleep, was not mine to have since I couldn’t imagine ever letting Mitch that close again, so I moved Brandon gently off my lap, leaned him sideways on the long sectional, and covered him with one of my mother’s many knit blankets. She’d been quite the knitter, and the house was still filled with blankets, socks, hats, and scarves. They were so soft, made of lamb’s wool and acrylic, and there were so many of them, chunky and in colors like white, linen, and pale gray. She made ten of them for me to make sure I would always be warm and always feel her wrapped around me. Stretching Ryder out, I covered him up as well, tucking yet another blanket up around his chin. Seeing the boys snuggled under them brought unexpected tears to my eyes.
When I went to move around the end of the couch, Mitch caught my right wrist and slowly, gently pulled me down to him until he could wipe my cheek with his thumb.
“Why?”
I shook my head.
One gorgeous golden eyebrow lifted.
“Your boys are under my mom’s blankets,” I said, tearing up again and smiling at him. “She would’ve loved that.”
He reached up and took my other hand, then tried to draw me down into his arms. I put a hand on his chest to stop him.
“Don’t,” I murmured.
“Stop fighting with me.”
I shook my head. “You can’t—you don’t know what it was like when you—”
“This is now,” he reminded me, gently moving my hand, sliding it over his hard pectorals and then smoothing it down his abdomen. “And you need to let me hold you.”
“I don’t—”
“Yes, you do,” he insisted, voice steely as his gaze locked with mine. “I know for a fact that you’ve been waiting years for this.”
“Oh? And how do you know that?”
“Because it’s been the same for me,” he said gruffly. “Now come here.”
I couldn’t fight him and my body at the same time. I felt the pull, the need to touch, to be close to him, and so I surrendered.
Once I settled against him, he scooted back, making room.
After several long moments, I realized I was getting sleepy. “You need to get up,” I whispered over my shoulder.
“Nah,” he murmured, moving his bicep under my head as he spooned around me, his left arm over me, shielding, protecting, as he nuzzled his face into my hair.
There would be dreams—there always were if I let myself fall asleep, so I promised myself I wouldn’t. I hoped I wouldn’t scare him if I accidentally nodded off for a second and then jolted awake. I hoped I wouldn’t scare the kids. It would have been all right if we were in separate rooms, but all of us on the long sectional… it was a concern. But the chance of me falling into a deep sleep snuggled up beside Mitch Thayer was a million to one to begin with. I hadn’t slept a whole night through since I got back from the war.
I’d be up in a couple of hours, haunting the house like normal.
Chapter Eight
THE SMELL of coffee tickled my nose, and as my eyes fluttered open, sunlight streaming in from all angles greeted me. Not only had I slept until morning, but I’d had no pulse-pounding, cold sweat–inducing dreams. Having Mitch there hadn’t fixed me—I was broken, in a way closeness could not heal. But feeling utterly and completely safe for the first time since I shipped home had gone a long way toward letting me rest.
I was going to pull out of his embrace, angry at myself for feeling vulnerable the night before, for letting myself fall back in love with him even for just a moment and imagine my life with him and his kids in it. What we had was a lifetime ago, and living in the past did no one any good. He was someone I used to know, not someone for the here and now.
All of that went through my head before I heard a gentle grunt from above me.
Lifting my eyes, I met a beautiful, warm sea-blue pair framed in long curling dark blond lashes. I scowled quickly, and her smile was instant.
“The hell are you doing here?” I groused.
Jessica Lynn Thayer crossed her arms and lifted one pale pink eyebrow in that same way her brother had the night before.
“You weren’t supposed to be here until next week, I heard?”
“I heard that my brother had to go out of town, and the kids begged me to come visit so they could start school on time.”
“I volunteered to do that.”
“So I’ve been informed,” she said, leaning down, holding back hair th
e same color as her eyebrows: a very healthy, shiny blonde with highlights of pink, as she kissed my forehead. “And may I say, you look good.”
“So do you,” I said, my voice husky, crackly. I was so happy to see her. Here finally was someone I did not have to examine my feelings about. I adored Jessie Thayer through thick and thin, from the time I met her at age twelve to now. Never, ever, had things changed between us. “I like the pink hair.” The look I got should have killed me. “What?”
“It’s rose gold,” she said very matter-of-factly, alluding to the fact that I was an idiot. “But I’ll forgive you for not being in the know since you look so nice lying there in my brother’s arms.”
I turned to see the man in question still sleeping, hair tousled, gold stubble catching the light, looking just like he had in high school.
“It’s not—”
She put her finger to her lips. “I made coffee. Is there breakfast stuff in there?”
I nodded.
“The boys are outside taking turns with your binoculars looking for… Ed, is it?”
“He’s an owl.”
“Of course he is,” she said, chuckling. “Anyway, I’ll start cooking and you can help me in a second.”
“Who let you in?”
“Ryder.”
“How did you know where your family was?”
“Process of elimination,” she explained, pushing my hair out of my face. “If Mitch and the boys were not at home, then they’d be with you.”
“Everyone in this town, including you, is nuts, and you don’t even live here anymore.”
“Please,” she scoffed, “we both know that Mitch came back here to get you because you’re the one thing he’s missing.”
She was going to give me a heart attack with all her assumptions. “We’re not getting back together!”
“Oh no?” she asked pointedly, gesturing at the two of us with an accusatory finger. “Because ya look kinda cozy here at the moment.”
“It’s not—nothing’s changed.”
“I think it has, and like I said, I knew exactly where to look for them this morning when I didn’t find them at home.”
“You shouldn’t have assumed they would be here.”
“And yet I was right.”
