Wife, Mother...Lover?

by Sally Tyler Hayes

  “Oh.”

  “Why don’t we take a shower, get dressed and find some food?”

  “Okay.”

  And then he kissed her one more time, his lips lingering over hers in a touch she found as reassuring as it had once been arousing.

  “Remember what I told you the other night. I take care of what’s mine, and you’re mine now.” He pulled away slowly, hesitated, then said, “I’m going to get in the shower, all right?”

  She nodded, then turned away as, stark naked, he climbed out of the bed and padded across the floor. Only after he’d shut the bathroom door behind him and after she’d heard the shower come on did she let the first tear fall.

  She was shaking and cold and her bed was empty now. Curling into the spot he’d just vacated, finding a warmth lingering there from his body, she pulled the covers over her and closed her eyes, to see if she could still feel his arms around her.

  But that just made her tears fall faster.

  She cried because of everything he’d said to her, everything about his manner—kind, concerned. He’d worked to put her at ease and to reassure her, had told her how good it felt to be with her, that it meant something to him, and, she thought, he’d been honest with her about his own jumble of feelings where she was concerned.

  That was the kind of man he was—kind and considerate, honest and loving. Handsome, she added. So very handsome. And sexy.

  She was his now, he’d said. And he took care of his own.

  Oh, God, she wanted to be his. In every sense of the word. She wanted her marriage to be real, wanted the boys to be hers, wanted Mitch—

  “Leanne?”

  Sure that there had to be some mistake, that she’d conjured up his voice somehow, she turned and found him standing beside the bed. His hair dripping wet, his feet bare, he had on nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist.

  He was watching her, and it was too late to hide the tears on her face. Feeling utterly foolish, and having no idea how she was going to explain, she went to move away.

  Mitch wouldn’t let her. He sat down on the bed and pulled her into his arms. With her face pressed against his chest, his heart thudding beneath her ear, she felt her emotions coming on so strong she was sure they would choke her.

  She felt one of Mitch’s hands stroking her hair, felt his lips place a kiss on the top of her head, felt surrounded by a strong, sexy and utterly solicitous man.

  He brought his lips down to her ear, his breath brushing past her cheek as he whispered to her.

  “I told you, I take care of what’s mine. That means you’re not alone anymore. It means that if you’re upset, you come to me. No more crying alone, Leanne. All right?”

  She tried to nod, but what he’d said only made her cry harder, which had him holding her tighter against him.

  “I’m not very good at that,” she said, the words muffled against his chest.

  “What?” He drew away enough that he could see her face.

  “Letting myself depend on someone.”

  Something in his expression seemed to soften, making him even more attractive than before.

  “That’s all right. I’ll teach you.”

  Chapter 12

  By the time they made it out of their room, it was almost three o’clock. They decided to have a late lunch, so Mitch took Leanne to an Italian place down the block from the hotel.

  Sitting across the table from her, he couldn’t help but be amazed at how very much his life had changed in a few short weeks. And he was curious how much more it was about to change because of her.

  A week ago, he’d asked her to marry him with an absolutely clear conscience, with no reservations, thinking he was simply ensuring that the boys remained with him.

  The marriage wasn’t supposed to mean anything to him. Or to her.

  He wondered now just what it meant to Leanne, wondered just how unfair he’d been to her by bringing her into this situation, then finding himself unable to keep his hands off her. He hadn’t lasted twelve hours alone with her in that hotel room before he’d ended up in bed with her.

  She absolutely took his breath away. Even now he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was a woman who was very much at ease with herself and her body. Tall, with those incredibly long legs, the hair that fell several inches past her shoulders, she dressed casually, in loose-fitting things that shouldn’t be sexy but somehow were.

  She looked touchable, he decided. Leanne was the kind of woman a man could take into his arms and touch and kiss and hold without ever worrying that she’d complain about his messing up her hair or her lipstick or anything else.

  The thing that stayed him now was knowing that bit of reserve in her, which he’d mistaken for coldheartedness, was just a ruse to cover up how vulnerable she really was.

  That damned vulnerability of hers was threatening to break what was left of his heart.

  And still, somewhere in the back of his head, was an awful feeling that by being with Leanne, he’d somehow betrayed his wife.

  Except Kelly wasn’t his wife anymore, he reminded himself. The woman sitting across from him was.

  He watched as Leanne toyed with the stern of her wineglass, watched the elegant movement of her hands around the goblet, noticed the way the diamonds he’d put on her finger caught the light from time to time.

  His ring. His wife.

  “You’re staring,” she said, looking at her own hand now. “The ring?”

  He nodded.

  “Do you regret marrying me?”

  “No. I just can’t believe I was foolish enough to think something like a marriage could be simple.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that complicated just because...”

  “We’re sleeping together?” He finished the sentence for her, then had to ask, “We aren’t going back to the way things were before, when we didn’t sleep together, are we?”

  She took her time about answering. “Do you want to?”

  “No,” he shot back, latching onto her hand, the one that held his ring. “Do you?”

  “No.”

  “Good. You want to talk about Kelly, don’t you?” He felt her try to tug her hand away, but he wouldn’t let her. And he figured he might as well get this conversation over with, because there was no way to avoid it altogether. “I can say her name without becoming upset.”

  “But you can’t sleep with another woman without feeling you’ve done something you shouldn’t have.”

  Mitch had the perfect comeback—Leanne couldn’t sleep with her sister’s husband without feeling guilt, either. But he wouldn’t say that to her, because it would hurt her. And he’d promised himself he wasn’t going to hurt her.

  “I think it was an inescapable fact that I would feel guilty the first time I was with another woman, no matter how long I waited or who I was with.”

  “But it’s worse because that woman is me.”

  “It’s...surprising. And more than a little unsettling. It’s awkward,” he admitted.

  She nodded her agreement, then asked, “Can you handle this?”

  “This?”

  “Us.”

  “I don’t see that we have a lot of options here.” Mitch considered for a minute, and then he got scared thinking of one other option. “Unless this is just too much for you and you want to leave.”

  He had a very bad moment imagining that she might, though he couldn’t blame her if she did. Instead, her face took on that lost-little-girl look, the one that had him realizing she’d been hurt too often and was expecting to get hurt again now.

  “I loved Kelly, too,” she said.

  “I know.” Mitch squeezed her hand and wished he could hold her. Gently, he asked, “Do you feel what we did somehow negates that?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. But I never wanted to hurt her.”

  “Leanne, I don’t think anything has the power to hurt her anymore. Right now, you’re the one I’m worried about.”

  “Me? W
hat about you? I know it’s bothering you, too.”

  “It is, but I’ve done a lot more to come to terms with Kelly’s death than you have. You’ve been trying to run away from it, rather than face it. And I blame myself for that.”

  “You? Why?”

  “Because I laid into you at the cemetery the day of her funeral and made you feel you weren’t welcome.”

  “Oh, Mitch. I’ve been running away from things all my adult life. It didn’t start with you the day of Kelly’s funeral.”

  “Still, I hated the entire world that day, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry about that.”

  “I just couldn’t get there in time,” she said. “The letter took so long to reach me, and by the time it did, it was too late.”

  “Hey, I know that now.”

  “I keep telling myself, if only I hadn’t been so far away, or if I’d been in any other place at the time. If I’d called her and asked if I could come when the boys were born, instead of waiting for her to invite me, then I—”

  Mitch slid his seat over until he was beside her, then silenced her with a hand against her lips. “No. You can’t do that to yourself. Leanne, if I’ve learned one thing from losing Kelly, it’s that ‘what ifs’ don’t mean a damned thing. We don’t have the luxury of knowing what’s going to happen and basing our decisions on that.”

  “I should have been here long before she died,” she insisted.

  “And Rena should never have treated you the way she did. Your father shouldn’t have let her. Your mother shouldn’t have died when she had four little kids to take care of. Do you blame all of them for this?” He watched, wondering if he was getting through to her. Then he had to add, “Do you blame me?”

  “You?”

  “I could have encouraged Kelly to reach out to you long ago, rather than being so stubborn about it and blaming you for the whole mess.”

  “I don’t blame you,” she said.

  “And you shouldn’t blame yourself. Leanne, you couldn’t have saved her, even if you had been here. No one could have known what was going to happen. No one could have stopped it.” He squeezed her hand, then slipped his arm around her and pulled her to him until her head fell to his shoulder. “It took me a long time to accept that. I spent months blaming myself for getting her pregnant.”

  “You did?”

  He nodded, dropping a light kiss on her forehead. Then he remembered something. This morning... Mitch swore softly. “Leanne?”

  “Hmm.”

  “Last night. I didn’t... We didn’t...”

  She lifted her head from his shoulder. “It’s all right. I’ve had a problem with migraines in the past year or so, and my doctor put me on the pill. I don’t know how or why, but it seems to help control them. And I had a complete physical after Kelly died. I don’t have anything you need to worry about. And I haven’t...been with anyone since then.”

  “I had myself checked out from head to toe, too, after Kelly died.” Mitch let out a long, slow breath, his heart just now starting to settle into a normal rhythm after he’d realized the crazy chances they’d taken. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I can’t believe I was that irresponsible.”

  “It’s been a long time since you’ve had to think of anything like that, Mitch.”

  “Yes, it has.” He was starting to relax now, and he hoped she was, as well. “So, are we okay with all of this?”

  Leanne hesitated, then nodded.

  Mitch sighed. He knew she had a long way to go before she felt comfortable with him and their attraction for each other.

  They spent one more glorious night and day in that hotel suite, barely making it out of the bed, then decided to go home Sunday evening. Mitch wanted some time with the boys before he had to go to work Monday morning. Leanne found that she missed them a great deal herself, and she wondered if they missed her.

  Driving home, Mitch slipped his hand over hers and asked, “Nervous?”

  “About being in the house?”

  “Yes.”

  She nodded. She and Mitch both had accepted the fact that they were going to feel guilty, that there was no escaping it. But they weren’t going back to the way things had been before, either.

  “Give it some time,” Mitch said. “And try not to worry so much.”

  “But I’m so good at worrying,” she said, hoping she could make him smile.

  He did. “We’ll work on finding you a new hobby. Did you ever think about taking pictures?”

  “I’m going to buy a camera tomorrow if mine don’t arrive by then. And your children are going to be the most photographed toddlers in the whole state. I’ve missed them,” she said.

  “I bet they’ve missed you, too.”

  And then they were pulling into the driveway. There were no lights on in the house, so she and Mitch walked across the street to Marc and Ginny’s place. The boys must have been waiting and watching, because sheer pandemonium erupted when Marc opened the door and the boys charged past him to Mitch.

  They shrieked and giggled and climbed all over him. Will toddled out onto the porch and jumped into the middle of the pile, until Marc pulled him off. And Hannah put her hands on her hips and shook her finger at everyone for making so much noise.

  Ginny was the last one to arrive on the scene. She said something to her husband, then took Leanne by the hand and pulled her inside, closing the door behind her.

  “To the kitchen, quick. And maybe they won’t find us for a few minutes.”

  Doing as she was told, Leanne followed her. Once the two of them were safely alone, Ginny turned to her.

  “Well? You look like married life agrees with you.”

  Leanne blushed in a way she hadn’t in years.

  “Oh, that good?” Ginny teased. “I just needed to make sure I did the right thing.”

  “You did,” Leanne said, feeling incredibly lucky right then and feeling the need to explain why. “Ginny, I don’t know how to thank you. For everything.”

  Ginny gave her a big, warm hug. “Be happy,” she said. “Make Mitch happy. And the boys. And yourself.”

  “I want to,” she said. “I want so much to believe that everything’s going to work out.”

  Before they could say anything more, the door to the kitchen burst open and Teddy stood there grinning and holding out his arms. “Weeann!”

  Leanne recognized that mangled pronunciation of her name and felt sheer joy flooding through her at the look on his sweet little face.

  “Come ’ere, Teddy bear.” She leaned over and picked him up. “I missed you.”

  “Mizz ooh.” He grinned, giving her a wet, sloppy kiss on the nose.

  Mitch showed up a moment later with Timmy sitting on his shoulders. He smiled seeing her and Teddy together that way, then asked if Leanne was ready to go home.

  Home, she thought. What a wonderful word. What a wonderful feeling—to be home with this man and these children.

  They went home, played with the boys, bathed them and put them to bed. Leanne stood outside the twins’ room while Mitch tucked them in. Watching him with them, seeing the tenderness, the gentleness he showed them, always got to her.

  He’d been every bit as tender and as gentle with her in their bed in the suite where they’d hidden away for a day and a half. Now that they were in this house he’d shared with Kelly, she wondered what was going to happen.

  Mitch came to the door. “I think they’re really out this time.”

  The boys had been so wound up Leanne didn’t think they’d ever sleep tonight. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was nine-thirty.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked, because neither one of them had had dinner, although they had eaten a late lunch.

  “No. You?”

  She shook her head, worried about what would take place next. And then she couldn’t hold back a yawn.

  Mitch came closer still, smiling easily. “Bedtime?”

  “I think so,” she said, her heart nearly tripping over itself. P
lease, she said to herself, don’t let him turn away now.

  “Let me check the locks and the lights downstairs, and I’ll be up,” he told her.

  Leanne dashed into the bathroom, brushing her teeth, scrubbing her face, taking down her hair, then finding herself unable to decide what to put on. The white silk nightgown Ginny had bought for her? Mitch had certainly liked the matching robe. But if she wore that and he didn’t want to be with her...it would be so awkward. Her only other choice was her pajamas, and there was nothing sexy about them.

  She went with the white silk, opened the bathroom door and found herself face-to-face with Mitch. As she watched, his gaze fell from her face, to her neck, her breasts, then lower. One of his hands came up to her shoulder, toying with the thin strap of the gown, tracing its path down her shoulder, then across the neckline.

  Leanne couldn’t hold back a tiny sound of pleasure. Nor could she stop the way her breasts swelled in response, her nipples jutting out against the cool silk, begging for his caress.

  She felt the warmth of his skin before he ever touched her there, felt him teasing her as he had that first time the other morning.

  “Mitch,” she moaned.

  “Hmm?”

  “Please.” She never would have found the courage to ask if he hadn’t put his hands on her first. “Touch me.”

  “I intend to,” he said, still teasing, trailing one finger along her collarbone now.

  With a devastating smile, he took her hand and led her into her room, to the bed. He tugged back the covers, and she climbed in. Then she watched as he started unbuttoning his shirt, her mouth going dry at the sight of all that wonderful skin and the muscles in his chest and his arms. He discarded the shirt, then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Her hands were aching to take over the job for him, but she couldn’t seem to move. So she watched him, instead, as he stripped down to nothing, then climbed into bed beside her.

  His hand at her throat, he let a finger rest along the pulse point there, smiling at what he found. Her heart was thundering.

  “Did you really think everything would change once we left that hotel room?” he asked softly, his hand caressing her throat.