by Berinn Rae
Fine, so she never won a popularity contest and along the way lost all her friends. She snorted. Some amigas they proved to be, tweeting nasty things about her, calling her a boyfriend snatcher. So she’d done what they accused her of and proved their boyfriends used them as a way to meet Olivia and get into her pants. For some, beauty was a curse. But Tom seemed to awaken something in her she’d never experienced before and for the first time she sought commitment.
With a long sigh, she stopped in front of the window. A white blanket covered the quiet street. The wind had eased, but the snow continued. The flakes in the lamplight glistened, appearing motionless. The fresh tire tracks on the road were disappearing beneath the new layer. Fuzziness filled her chest. If Tom’s wife didn’t return by Christmas, she would spend holidays with her little family instead of alone and bitter. Who knew the domestic bliss, the dynamics of the busy, chatty dinner around dining room table could beat eating takeout while watching the news in an easy chair? She’d have to stall finding her purpose in this life so Tom’s real wife wouldn’t return.
The glass fogged as she blew out her breath of frustration. This illusion would cease to exist. Could she escape the inevitability? The blinds closed at her twist of the rod.
She sat on the low stool in front of the vanity table that doubled as her desk. What had Tom said? He was of Croatian descent. Geography hadn’t been her favorite subject throughout school. The black screen of her laptop came to life at the tap of her finger on the mouse. The cursor flashed inside the search box of the web browser. Unsure what she’d find, she typed Croatia. The small geographic map in the corner of the screen and the short description beneath placed it as the country at the crossroads of Central Europe, The Balkans and Mediterranean. Next, the link to “Lonely Planet” drew her attention. At the click of the mouse, the page loaded. The first paragraph read:
“Croatia’s rare blend of glamour and old-fashioned authenticity make this Europe’s ‘it’ destination, where beaches and sunshine vie for attention with cultural treasures, ancient architecture and time-tested folk traditions.”
“Interesting,” she murmured, clicking on the picture gallery. Clear blue water beckoned. The gorgeous towns encased in their original medieval protective walls and cloudless skies were a welcomed contrast to overcast asphalt jungle of Toronto.
Browsing through the pictures took her mind off the earlier embarrassment of Tom’s rejection, but as she bookmarked the page and closed it, her thoughts returned to him. Heat pooled in her core. The man knew how to use his tongue. Would he take her to those pristine and secluded beaches where they could make love away from civilization? She shook her head to free her mind, dispelling the image of their naked bodies entwined, spread over a beach towel.
It seemed selfish of her to think only of her own needs. They had two kids and she was sure they would love to enjoy the warmth and swim in the sea.
A yawn escaped. It was getting late. She should try to get some rest. The duvet rustled while she shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. Her body refused to settle, but as her mind drifted to the place where azure water hugged the pebbled shore and Tom’s wet body covered hers, her eyes drooped. Tomorrow I’ll ask him to take me to the enchanted land.
She fell into a shallow doze, opening her eyes from time to time only to find the bedroom’s furniture shrouded in a veil of darkness, not Tom as she hoped. Slipping into a deeper sleep, she floated on the gentle blue water, adrift on a vast sea. Tom appeared and she was lost in his eyes, then his lips pressed to hers.
She reached out to him and fell over the side of the bed, her body landing hard on the wood planks of the floor. Free of the bedding, cold air slid over her, adding to the rude awakening. The darkness had been replaced by a new day.
The smell of coffee wafted in the air and she sprang to her feet, focusing on the nightstand’s clock. Ten minutes to seven. Tom was up. The kids would still be asleep. Now would be a perfect time for a talk. Taking off her nightie, she opened the closet. She had to admit, the feminine clothes in her wardrobe were way more fun than her dark designer suits. Fuchsia track pants and a soft pink top replaced her lacy outfit.
She hurried through her morning routine and left the bedroom. Tom sat at the table, slouched over a sheet of paper, tuned to his writing. His aftershave drifted to her and her breath caught at the sight of his toned body under the tight muscle shirt.
The pen in his hand stopped moving. He looked up at her and offered a warm grin. “Good morning, honey. Did you sleep well?”
“Like a baby. How about you?” She hoped redness wouldn’t spread over her cheeks with her lie.
“Babies wake every two hours.” He stood and gestured for her to sit next to him. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.” The words rushed out in an exhausted plea. She plopped on the kitchen chair and leaned her elbows on the table.
“I dreamt about you.” Tom’s voice held more than a tinge of desire as he set her favorite coffee mug in front of her.
He stepped behind her to caress her shoulders and her self-control shattered. She melted under his magic fingers. They worked up her neck, cradling and tilting her head back. Her gaze met his.
She licked her lips to hide her trembling breath. “Funny you should mention it. I dreamt about you, too.”
“Hmm, good dream I hope.” He arched a brow. His finger circled her lips.
“Tom, how long are you planning to carry on this punishment?”
“For as long as I see fit.” His voice dropped to a husky tone.
She pushed her knees tight together. Naughty thoughts flooded her mind. “Wouldn’t it be easier if you just spanked me and I promised to be a good girl?”
He brushed the hair off her shoulder and whispered in her ear. “Haven’t done any spanking in a while, but I may still.”
This time she couldn’t suppress her gasp. Powerful arousal rushed heat from her core all over her body. She yanked her head free from his hold. “If you’re not going to carry it out now, please stop this teasing.”
To her relief, he returned to the chair where his mug and paper waited. He exhaled. A wicked grin on his face carried a certain promise. “One of these days. Maybe.”
She studied him. If the deep lines on his forehead and stiff posture were indication, he must be suffering as much as her. Strange as it seemed, his delay of taking her to bed incited her lust more. Bringing the coffee to her lips, she blew on the steam and took a sip. Perfect as always. Her hunch proved right. He was dominant in the bedroom and this teasing must be some unspoken rules he had for his wife. A deeper desire stirred in her loins.
Best to change the subject. “Tell me more about yourself. Where did you learn to cook?”
“My mom.” He lifted his pen and stared at her. “She still cooks enough to feed a small country.”
“Does she live nearby?” Olivia savored another sip. Would a motherin-law see right through her?
He curled his hand around his mug and sighed. “No, she’s in Croatia. She took Dad’s body to be buried there.” A smile tugged on his lips, as if he were remembering some distant time. “She wanted to be able to put fresh flowers on his grave. Living there is healthier for her. The winters here were hard on her. She was afraid of slipping and falling on ice and wouldn’t leave the house. Each year she’d put on more and more weight.”
Her shoulders slumped. “My mom paraded the funeral home in her designer suit for Dad’s service. I’ll never forget her ridiculous, pretentious mask of sorrow under the netting of her wide brimmed hat. Mom insisted on sending Tadem to the institution for infirm. Dad fought her, but Mom did most of the yelling. He slammed the door. Early next morning, police came knocking to tell us there’d been an accident.”
Tom gave a sympathetic smile and rubbed her arm. “Honey, some things can’t be changed no matter how much we want them to.”
“You’re right. My mother can’t be changed.” She admired his family’s togetherness, and envied it too,
more than just a little. “What about the rest of your family?”
“After Dad passed away, my sister suffered a nervous breakdown. Her loser boyfriend dumped her after he drained her bank account. The guy always needed bailing out. My brother and I refused to give him a penny. Six years of stringing Mariana along, she couldn’t see he had no intentions of happily ever after. Instead, he took off skydiving in Australia.”
“What an asshole. I hope she’s better now.”
“Yes, our brother, Ante, resigned from the police force and took her home. She reconnected with her old boyfriend. They’re getting married this summer.” Head resting on his knuckles, he raked his glance over her. “So full of questions early in the morning. What else you’d like to know?”
“Did you always want to be a lawyer?”
He raised his head once more and Olivia caught the sadness in his eyes. “In third grade I bugged my parents to throw me a birthday party. With three kids and only my dad working, money was always tight, but they got me a bouncy castle and I invited all the kids from my class.” He paused, averting his glance as if growing up poor were a cause for shame. Then he seemed to regain his proud stance and continued. “When the time came to sing the birthday song, one of the mothers started to yell at my mom, accusing her of attempted murder. Her boy had a severe nut allergy and the cake my mom baked was decorated with ground walnuts. This woman scooped her kid away and others pulled theirs before I could blow out the candles. All of them called my parents stupid immigrants and threatened legal actions.”
Tom swallowed. “My mom was in tears. We had never heard of nut allergies. My dad gathered us around the table and we continued the celebration as we had for years. Just us, the family.” A proud grin lit his face, replacing the sadness in his eyes. “That day I vowed to my mom I’d fight for the rights of the misunderstood and poorly treated because they didn’t know the customs or couldn’t speak the language enough to defend themselves.”
Olivia returned his smile though doubt surfaced within her. Last time she checked, one man alone couldn’t change the world. “At least you had birthday parties. My mom had money, but would not spend any on frivolous things like a birthday party for her daughter.” She kept turning the mug in her hands, contemplating how to steer the conversation to Croatia. “Have you ever been to your parents’ homeland?”
“Of course. Every summer mom would take us and when we got older we’d travel alone and stay with Grandma on the island.” Laughter shook his shoulders and he had to set the cup down. “Our dear Nana Rokica was a classic. The things she used to say, ah … ” He ended his chuckle with a long sigh. “They don’t make them like her anymore.”
Tom’s laughter was infectious. Unable to resist, Olivia joined in, not quite sure what she was chuckling at. But it didn’t matter. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a full-blown laugh. “When was the last time you’ve been there?”
“Not since Dad’s funeral.” His voice sounded nostalgic and regretful, but a grin spread his lips. “We can’t miss Mariana’s wedding. You’re a bridesmaid, I’m one of the groomsmen and Milo is ring boy.”
Joy surged through her and she had to plant her feet on the kitchen’s tile to stay seated, but couldn’t hide excitement from her shrieking voice. “We’re going?”
“Yes, but first we agreed to fly to Vancouver and spend this Christmas with Tadem. We want to see how Rosie will take being on a plane.”
Nervous butterflies rose in Olivia’s stomach. She hadn’t seen her sister in over two decades. The image of Tadem’s confused face lingered in Olivia’s mind. Had she understood what their mother had done to her? Mother had lied when she’d promised Tadem that Olivia would go too. Her sister had obeyed the people in white coats and sat in the car. But when Olivia remained standing on the sidewalk, Tadem had broken into her rage. Tears burned Olivia’s eyes, just like that dreadful day, only then she wasn’t ashamed to shed them.
Tom picked up his pen and jotted a few more words on the page. The pen poised over the sheet while he tapped his finger, turning his head from side to side as if he were trying to look for some details in the kitchen.
“Are you working on your court case?”
He shook his head, his eyes filled with mischievous sparkle. “I’m compiling a list, mostly Rosie’s schedule.”
“Why?” She leaned closer, a distinct feeling this had something to do with her.
“I can’t always be here. Tomorrow, I’ll be gone all day in court. I trust you’d be able to take care of the kids?”
Her last sip of coffee went down the wrong pipe and she pounded on her chest, coughing.
CHAPTER 8
Olivia stared at the smiling face of a sunflower plush toy hanging from the highchair tucked in the corner of the spacious kitchen as she tried to re-catch her breath. Tom patted her between her shoulder blades.
He ceased tapping her back, stepped to the sink and filled the glass from the reverse osmosis tap.
“Drink some, it’ll clear your throat.” He handed her the water.
She nodded, taking the glass in her hand. A gulp of cold liquid quenched her parched windpipe. “For a moment … ” she wheezed. “I thought I heard you saying I’m staying home alone with the kids all day tomorrow.”
His gentle squeeze on her shoulder failed to boost her with encouragement. With his hand sliding down her arm, stopping at her elbow, his eyes narrowed while he studied her for a moment. “You heard me right.”
At his confirmation, her stomach muscles tightened and she bit her lower lip to hide her trembling. She’d never spent a single second alone with a child, let alone taken care of one. Well not entirely true, she had played with her sister for a few rare moments when Mother had allowed. But playing with Tadem decades ago hardly made her a qualified babysitter.
“I … I can’t do this.” Olivia shook her head.
He pulled the seat closer, the chair’s legs scraping across the floor tile. “Honey, only the judge can change the court date. It’s been scheduled and confirmed for months.”
“Can’t you get someone to babysit?”Anxiety constricted her throat, changing her tone to a high-pitched shriek.
His eyebrows drew closer and he shrugged. “Who?”
Slouched over the table, she tapped her finger on the glass in her hand. Tom had said all his family moved to Croatia. Her mother was spending the winter someplace warm and sunny, and besides, if she was here she’d be useless. Olivia straightened.
“What about the young dad who was here last night?”
“Jason?” He scowled. “He has school all day and he better not skip a single class.”
She huffed, resenting Tom’s concern for a former neighborhood hoodlum. “You’re not his dad. Why do you care?”
Tom’s hard stare sent shivers rushing down her back. She must’ve said something he wouldn’t expect to hear from his wife.
“I do because his dad doesn’t. Jason’s father is a provider. It is easier to fork out money to get his son out of his hair than to deal with his problems. I’m under an oath to make sure the young man follows the court orders or he’ll lose his child.”
She took another sip of water. Caring was a new concept to her, something she’d have to warm up to. “I can relate to an absent parent. At least his father didn’t send him away to a boarding school, like me. I was never rebellious nor have I ever experimented with drugs.”
She had stayed invisible, always pushed to the back of the room. Until her body had bloomed, then men had flocked to her like pigeons to breadcrumbs. For the first time, she’d enjoyed being the center of attention and the envy of all the girls in her school.
“There’s no one but you.” Tom wrapped his fingers around her wrist and yanked her back into the present. “I’ll put Milo on the school bus in the morning and prepare Rosie’s bottles with formula and her pureed food. All you’ll have to do is pop them in the microwave for a few seconds.”
“Milo’s in school all day?” A
hint of relief loosened the knot in her stomach, but a strange sense of loss spread through her. She would miss the little boy and his incessant chatting, but she was sure baby would occupy her time.
“Until four in the afternoon. His school bus stops by the mailbox. You’ll have to be there or the driver won’t let him leave. Should you run late, the bus loops around the neighborhood and passes by our house again about ten minutes later. It’ll stop on the other side of the street.”
Olivia contemplated. Could she take this on? She must. Something deep inside nagged her to be a perfect mom and accept Tom’s children. Tomorrow would be her ultimate test. After all she’d agreed to play his wife. “Got it, four o’clock.”
His chest expanded with a rush of air. Had he been afraid to breathe before she agreed? “I’ll set the alarm for four o’clock. The loud and annoying one in Rosie’s room we never use. There’s no way you won’t hear it,” he offered.
Her thoughts wandered to the spare room Tom called a nursery. She had not ventured there yet, but in her previous life, she stored old stuff there. Another thought occurred and she winced. “What about changing Rosie’s nappy things?”
He rewarded her with another of his mocking stares, coaxing a tight-lipped smile from her. “Honey, you taught me how to do it, so I’m sure it will come back to you.”
If luck were with her, changing time wouldn’t come. Get real. Babies use nappies instead of the toilet. “You’re still mistaking me for your wife.”
His exasperated exhale cut through tense silence. Though he remained quiet, the deep crease on his forehead indicated her apparent memory loss still concerned him. The thought of being his wife forever no longer surprised her, but she couldn’t and mustn’t start believing in a delusion that could disappear into a thin air at any moment.
