by Annie Dean
He nodded, curiously numb. “It took me the better part of three days to get here, after the time you'd allegedly departed. But I couldn't be convinced you'd actually spent the night here. It's so not you."
Acknowledging that with a glance that judged the place and found it wanting, she went on, “After I saw you on TV with the penguins last week, it didn't take much detective work to figure out you must have come here. Checking up on me?"
"Yes.” The word fell into the silence, simple and unadorned.
"I told you not to give out the address,” Addie muttered, and then added something about coffee.
As she made her escape to the kitchen, Sean studied his wife. In silence Manu clicked off the karaoke machine, and Lorene edged toward the door. Sean saw her beckoning the big man with a jerk of her head, and they slid out the front without saying good night. He couldn't blame them; it was damn awkward.
The two women exchanged a look, and then Cami said, “Have you left me, then?"
I'd say it was you who did the leaving, years ago. But he didn't say it aloud. Instead he answered, “Yes, I suppose I have. Ironic that you came all this way; I was coming back tomorrow to sort things out. We need to get an attorney and sell the condo—or you can buy me out,” he added, as her expression became pained. “We can use the same lawyer unless you want to make a battle of this. I don't really see the point, myself. There's nothing left to fight about."
Saying it aloud made him realize how true that was. He pushed to his feet then but he didn't go to her, merely stood with his arms folded and waited for her response. When the other woman brushed the back of Cami's hand lightly with her fingertips, he knew. Maybe he should be hurt and outraged because cheating was cheating, but oddly, he mostly felt relieved it hadn't been a personal failure. No man on earth could have made Cami happy; she wasn't wired that way.
"There really isn't,” she said softly, looking tired but determined. “I'm sorry, Sean. This isn't how I would have chosen to tell you."
His gaze went past her to the woman standing at her shoulder, quiet and composed. “Shouldn't you perform the introductions?"
"Robin Tucker.” The brunette offered her hand and he shook it perfunctorily. “And I'm sorry we deceived you. That's not my style, but Cami wasn't ready to come out, and I didn't want to push her."
"That was probably smart.” The numbness threatened to encompass him. “How long have you known?"
"I probably had an inkling back in college,” Cami answered after a long silence. The two women sat down on the loveseat, hands linked, and he felt rude to tower over them, so he collapsed on the couch, listening. “I found it really easy to be true to you, even when we were separated by distance. I much preferred spending time with my girlfriends, and I often admired how pretty some of them were. I didn't want to admit there might be an element of sexual attraction back then. It didn't fit my game plan."
"For the perfect life,” he guessed. “On the surface we had that, didn't we?"
Cami smiled, soft and bittersweet. “We sure did. But our hearts were starving."
Too, too true.
"How did you meet?"
They exchanged a glance, and Robin answered, a decision reached through seconds of silent communication that he'd never known with Cami, despite their years together. “I consulted on one of her design projects. I'm an architect."
How great, he thought, not without sarcasm. The perfect team.
"Will your clients understand?” He knew the reason she'd stayed had to be a reluctance to lose business, as Sharpeville wasn't a free-thinking metropolis.
His soon-to-be ex-wife shrugged. “If they don't, then I'll sell and start over. I worked hard for what I have there, but Robin is worth starting over. I've learnt that some things are worth a little risk."
Hearing that hurt him a little as he'd never even been able to get her to change their brand of fabric softener. Sean hoped his face didn't reveal anything, but he had to change the subject. “Any objections to using Junior Strickland for the divorce?"
Cami thought about it for a few seconds, and he could see her mentally reviewing the attorney's record. After all these years, he knew her thought processes so well. Stupid that he'd just realized how much he would miss her—not as wife or lover, but as a friend whose constant presence he'd come to rely on.
"No, that's fine. I'm pretty sure he won't screw us."
Sean nodded. “I guess disposition of the condo depends on how your business turns, doesn't it?"
That was literally all that bound them. They'd never combined their personal accounts and he had no access to her business income. He might be able to sue for it but she'd worked her ass off building it, so he didn't feel any entitlement, and he'd never wanted to hurt her. Even their vehicles were registered and owned separately.
She seemed to follow his train of thought. “Odd, isn't it?"
"Yeah,” he said, rusty and low. “Seems like there should be more."
At that Cami let go of her lover and came to him, set her hand on his cheek. “I'm so sorry,” she said, big blue eyes brimming. “I want...” Her voice broke, but she mustered up some composure so she could continue—and that was Cami, all the way down to the ground, a true steel magnolia. Well, a steel magnolia with a yen for same. “I don't want to lose you, Sean; I just don't want to be your wife."
"You were never any good at it anyway.” He managed a smile to salve some of the sting.
Robin watched them silently, hands folded in her lap. In her Sean saw a gentle, good-humored soul who would balance Cami's occasionally overweening ambition. Weird as it sounded, he approved of his successor.
Lower lip trembling, Cami went on, “You've been my best friend since I was eight years old. Please tell me we can still have that."
He wavered, holding still against her hand. How can I blame her for something that wasn't her fault? Sure, she'd been difficult over the last few years, but he could only imagine how the pretense weighed on her, once she knew the truth about herself.
"Of course we can.” His eyes welling up, he slung an arm over her shoulders and leaned his forehead against hers. “We'll have the best divorce ever, I promise. But you're never decorating for me again. I hate your taste."
She laughed and the sound caught on a hiccup. “I could design a room you'd love if I was decorating for you. But I've never done that."
No, pleasing him had never been her agenda, and it never would be. It seemed like she'd held him responsible for her unhappiness, although he had nothing to do with it except perhaps peripherally. Sean rubbed her back, and the hug felt honest for the first time in years.
"Well.” Addie said. “And here I was worried you'd get blood on my rug.” Holding a tray of coffee and cookies in her spandex mini-dress, she looked absurd and adorable, an immodest Mary Poppins. “It's pretty late, so I made herbal tea as well."
"Are those toffee bars?” Robin leaned forward, peering at the platter of treats.
"Yeah.” He answered for her and caught the glance Robin and Cami exchanged.
He'd been around the Grail long enough to know that she did her baking first thing in the morning. Her dad loved brownies, and Manu would sit up and beg for chocolate chunk cookies with macadamia nuts. As for himself, he thought maybe he'd beg for Addie. After a little discussion, Robin and Cami accepted a plate of sweets to share and some well-creamed coffee.
Having done her duty as hostess, Addie hovered, looking uncertain, though Cami went back to Robin. He answered the unspoken question by taking her hand and drawing her down beside him, and he didn't let go, even when she tugged. Sighing, Addie curled up against him, but he understood how she felt. This could redefine uncomfortable.
Cami arched a brow, and Sean winced, recognizing the expression before she spoke. “Do you console all distraught spouses of those who use your service in such a way, Ms. Alger? That could be a lucrative sideline."
He expected Addie to bristle, but she merely shook her head. “Sean's sp
ecial. But I guess you already knew that,” she added pointedly. “Even if you don't like the cock."
"Take it easy,” Robin said, touching Cami's hand, presumably to remind her that she didn't have the right to growl over anything he did anymore. Some habits die hard. “We don't want to annoy the lady. It's an hour to the nearest decent hotel and I'm not looking to get back in the car tonight."
"True enough.” Cami acknowledged both messages.
Addie's voice became poisonously sweet as she gouged them. “Oh, did you need a room? Or would that be two? It's a hundred and fifty a night, cash only. How long did you plan to stay?"
"One room will be fine.” Robin's lips twitched. “And just tonight, I think."
Freeing herself, Addie went to the office to get the forms she needed them to sign, and then she collected the currency. He tried not to laugh as he realized she was doing it for him; maybe he didn't hold a grudge, but she apparently did. While she ran through her spiel about amenities and handed out the key to 209, he decided he wasn't sleeping alone, even with Cami under the same roof.
He stood up, pulling Addie to her feet as well. “Night, ladies."
Not waiting for a response, he led her to down the hall to her room. Before he got the door open, she hissed, “Are you sure this is a good idea? What if she tries to use it against you?"
"I don't care,” he said simply and swung her into his arms. “Anyway, I'm pretty sure it cancels out. She can't condemn me without implicating herself, and while she's come out I rather doubt she wants to call attention to it in a court of law."
Addie seemed to consider that as he bumped the door shut with his foot. “You're probably right,” she admitted, grudging. “You seem okay with this."
"I am.” He dropped her on the bed gently. “Don't ask me why, but it would've been worse if it was another man. Because that would've meant the failure was mine."
"Not necessarily,” she argued. “Just because two people don't belong together doesn't mean..."
"Addie.” Sean pulled his shirt off and started working his shorts down his hips.
"What?"
"Would you rather talk about my ex or have sex?"
She gave him a pert smile. “Is there a third choice?"
Grinning, he told her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Addie woke before it was light.
At first she'd tried to convince him it was imprudent to make love with Camille just upstairs, but he'd shrugged and whispered against her throat, “What do you think they're doing?"
And then he started doing things with his mouth that made her forget her objections entirely. A tingle ran through her, remembering. Surely that wasn't legal, and if she'd ever doubted before, well, it just proved Sean Duncan was too good to be true. With a pleased little sigh, she squirmed out from under his arm.
Her body ached in the most delightful ways, suggesting she really ought to step up the yoga. Idly she wondered what Ben Fuller could do in bed. If nothing else, this last week had taught that the quiet types could often surprise you. While she gathered up her clothes, a pair of neat tan slacks she seldom wore and a forest green striped blouse, he rolled over and gathered her pillow close, smiling as he fell deeper into whatever he was dreaming. His expression gave her heartstrings a tug, but she didn't let it delay her.
Wrapping up in a robe, she padded down the hall to get a shower. It had been a long time since she had guests, but she remembered the routine well enough. Be waiting, bright-eyed and well-groomed, with a pot of coffee and an impressive spread. Answer all demands with a cheerful smile and they'll go home to tell their friends. She heard her mother saying the words in her head as she scrubbed up, and for the first time in years, she didn't feel a sense of inadequacy and loss.
Maybe her mother wouldn't approve of the choice she'd made, but she would understand why. After all, Maria had taught her the sanctity of family, time and again. At one point, they'd hardly had a room to let because of hard-up cousins taking advantage of room and board for a week or two while they sorted out their lives. Many of them still sent Christmas cards from wherever they wound up, and that was Mama's doing.
Last night had been ... mortifying. Meeting your lover's ex ranked right up there with going-to-work-naked nightmares. Cami had taken one look at her and decided she was border trash; she'd seen that expression often enough to recognize it.
With a sigh, she skipped the ritual of moisturizer and makeup, wanting to get a start on breakfast. Since they'd gone shopping recently, she could lay out a nice meal: scrambled eggs and French toast, a fresh fruit and yogurt plate, and she'd make some muffins too. Thoughtful, Addie dug through her index cards and then decided on a wholesome recipe that called for oatmeal, honey, carrots, apples and raisins.
By the time she heard anyone else stirring, she had the toast, eggs, muffins warming in the oven, she'd tidied up the kitchen somewhat, and she was browning turkey bacon in a skillet. A few minutes later, Camille wandered into the kitchen, looking like she might kill for a cup of coffee. She poured in silence and sat the pitcher of cream next to the sugar bowl on the butcher-block table, and then it occurred to her that Sean's ex was probably a Splenda kind of woman, so she laid out a few packets of that as well.
With ladylike grace, Cami stirred while measuring Addie with her eyes. “You look ... different this morning."
Well, of course she did. But she wasn't going to waste her breath explaining. The other woman had already judged her for running a service that catered to the unfaithful, never mind that Cami had used it herself. People could be amusingly hypocritical when it suited them. Mine was a special situation, she'd say to herself. I'm not like everyone else.
Addie shrugged. “I don't like the way grease splatters on my thighs when I cook in the mini."
Silence reigned for a few minutes while she finished up the bacon. Conscious of Cami watching her every movement, she tried not to let it affect her movements. Addie set the table, knowing Sean would be down when he woke to the smell of breakfast. Odd how she knew so many random things about him—he loved French toast and the smell of bacon in the morning, he took his coffee with a little cream and two sugars, and he liked sleeping on the right side of the bed.
But she didn't know his political leanings, didn't know how he would spend an unexpectedly large tax refund check, what he did for fun left to his own devices or where he'd go for a dream vacation. Cami undoubtedly knew all those things, but she didn't care. For some reason, that seemed unutterably sad this morning.
"Good coffee.” The blonde lifted her mug as if in salute. “Look, I know you don't like me. I've undoubtedly complicated your life a great deal at this point, and it's a little weird for me too ... he was mine for a long time, even if I couldn't love him like he needs. But...” She had a honey-soft accent that thickened as she said, “I'm grateful you've given him some comfort."
What the hell ... she thinks it was a pity fuck? Well, that just lit her fuse.
"I haven't given him comfort,” Addie came back, jaw clenched. “We had scream-the-house-down sex, lady. Four times last night, as a matter of fact. Naturally, you were in no position to appreciate it, but the man is pure genius in bed. I'm just glad he's not bound to you anymore because now he can go on tour, making women world-wide sing the hallelujah chorus."
"Don't encourage her,” Sean told Cami as he sauntered into the room. “I'm pretty sure she writes odes to my penis in her spare time."
"I do not.” Grinning, Addie forked the bacon onto a plate. “Unless you count that one limerick."
Robin came in behind him and went straight for the coffee. “Ooh, limericks. Can I hear it?"
Despite her determination to dislike them, Addie could see why Cami had fallen in love with the woman. Charming fit Robin perfectly. Sean shook his head while she filled the mug he'd been using since his arrival, a glossy black art deco thing that held about half a liter of coffee.
Ignoring his pained expression, she said, “Of course you can
. What's breakfast without a limerick?"
"Addie.” That was his warning tone, definitely.
"Let's see, how did it go?” Donning pot-holder gloves, she pulled the food out of the oven. “There was a man from Venus/In search of a forever-hard spell for his penis/Like his dick, his search was long/So to rest his schlong,/he settled on a twice-a-day hex for his wienus."
"Wienus? That's great.” Robin sat down, giggling, as Addie served breakfast.
But Cami was still thinking about something else. “Four times? Really?"
"Yep,” Addie answered, feeling a trifle smug. “And that's not even his record."
Sean covered his face with both hands, and his voice came through muffled. “Please. Can we not...? Just. Not. This is beyond wrong."
"It's not, actually.” A light came on in her head, and she knew exactly what to say. “Teasing each other is part of family life, and Cami's not going to stop being part of yours, Sean. You're just changing terms and adding Robin to the mix. Family isn't determined by marriage lines."
He stared at her, his fork hanging in mid-air, but his tone seemed wry. “So I'm not losing a wife, I'm gaining a sister-in-law?"
"Well. You are losing a wife. It's more like you're gaining two sisters-in-law, given what you've told me about your relationship."
"She's right,” Cami agreed. “Maybe you should do family therapy, Addie. You could host amazing retreats out here too, there's nothing to distract from sessions.” Belatedly she seemed to realize how that sounded. “Er. It's lovely. Really."
"Yeah, I know.” Addie suddenly felt more cheerful, having made it clear that Cami shouldn't feel sorry for him. And Sean looked as though he was considering what she'd said. The therapy thing was an interesting idea, but she was way too old to go back to school; she'd never been more than an indifferent student. It wasn't that she was dumb, but she preferred to pry wisdom out of life like crabmeat from the shell.
Instead of taking the discussion further, she listed off what she had on the menu. Cami chose a muffin and some fresh fruit to go with her coffee, no surprises there, but Robin went with the lumberjack breakfast, inhaling impressive quantities of French toast, eggs and bacon. Both Sean and Addie watched with astonishment.
