“No, please,” Stephanie said with a wicked smile. “Let him stay. I think I might need a male perspective.”
And just like that, I lost complete control of the group. Even Jackie brightened a little as the sound of boots on tile vibrated into the room. Taking a deep breath, I turned to face him.
Hell. He looked even better than I remembered.
Dressed in a black t-shirt and a fitted pair of jeans, he’d tanned under the California sun and filled out even more. He’d always had a great body before, so it was completely unfair that he’d only managed to improve. His dark hair curled under his black cowboy hat, and those crystal blue eyes gleamed with mischief.
What the hell was he doing here?
I needed to stay professional. These women deserved the rest of their therapy time even if they were distracted. “Sir, if you’d just wait outside.”
“What is your suggestion to finding it hard to sleep in an empty bed?” Susan asked as she leaned forward. Her breasts nearly spilled out of her shirt.
“I don’t believe the gentleman will have much experience in that area.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and when he smirked at me, I struggled to backtrack. “What I mean is—”
“But he’s a stranger,” she whined, using a simpering voice, “and my therapist says that it can be therapeutic to talk to strangers.”
Her therapist said what?
Before I could stop him, Brendan grabbed a chair, swung it backwards, and straddled it. Every pair of eyes settled on the space between his legs. Including mine.
Dammit.
“I think—”
Brendan just ignored me. “In my experience, ma’am, the best way to deal with an empty bed is to fill it.” I inhaled sharply at the horrible advice, and he shrugged. “Dogs are good. Cats. Even piling pillows on the side might help. Something you can grab when the pain overwhelms you. Something you can squeeze. Weighted blankets are good too.”
I blinked. That was actually pretty good.
“Oh, my.” Donna bit her lower lip and looked up at him through her lashes. “Who are you, sir?”
“I’m sorry, ladies. I didn’t mean to crash your session. I’m Brendan Ward. I’m just here to see the good doctor.”
“I’m not a doctor yet,” I said automatically.
“How do you know Ms. Quinn?” Jackie asked quietly.
“Oh, we go way back, but it’s been awhile since we’ve seen each other.” He gave me that lazy smile that shot spirals of heat throughout my body. “I thought we might hook up. Her boss told me that she was here.”
Of course, Dr. Jacobson had pointed him in my direction. The man didn’t give a damn about closed-door sessions. “Brendan, if you’ll just wait outside,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Mr. Ward, are you a cowboy?” Stephanie simpered.
“Yes ma’am. I own Ward Ranch up near Monterey. Are you in the market for a horse?”
“I am now.”
It was obvious that we weren’t going to get anything else done. Glancing at the clock, I stood. “All right, ladies. Our time is almost up. I’d like to remind everyone that these sessions are open for as long as you need them. There are other open sessions as well if you want to check the schedule on the bulletin board out front. I just ask that you please sign up so we can get an accurate head count. Also, Dr. Jacobson is open for one-on-one counseling as well.”
Most of the ladies immediately got up and followed Brendan to the coffee table. Struggling not to roll my eyes, I started to fold the chairs. Jackie stopped by and squeezed my hand. “For a grief counselor, you certainly don’t seem to be accepting your own grief, my dear.”
I stared at her, shocked to my very core. “What?”
“You know what I’m talking about.” She glanced over to where Brendan stood in a sea of widows. “The handsome stud who’s about to be eaten alive. It’s obvious that he is very important to you. Maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to push him away. You never have as much time as you think.” She gave me a sad smile as she walked away.
Her words rattled me. I thought I’d been so professional. Was it really so easy to read my pain?
As I finished putting up the chairs, Brendan managed to extricate himself. “Is there somewhere we can talk?” he asked in a low voice.
“My cell phone number hasn’t changed. If you wanted to talk to me, you could have called.” I cleaned up the food and put the boxes in the cabinet overhead.
He made a snorting sound. “You would have ignored my call.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You didn’t know that.”
“I do now.”
My temper rose, and I struggled to keep it down. Whirling around, I gasped when I realized how close he was standing. Heat radiated from him, and his scent hit me like a brick wall. Memories assaulted me with each ragged inhalation.
The first night that we fell into bed together. I’d wrapped my body around him, slithering over him until we were both gasping with need.
“Brendan, I’m at work. I just started my shift. I have another five hours before I’m able to leave.”
“Then I’ll come back.”
I searched my mind, struggling for another excuse. “I’ve got to work on my dissertation tonight.”
His blue eyes bored into me, pinning me in place. “You need to make time for me, Jillian. This is important.”
I crossed my arms. “It’s been a thousand years, Brendan. What could be so important now?”
He leaned down until his lips hovered just inches from mine. I held my ground. “Still so full of fire. Aren’t you, Jillian?”
No, I wanted to tell him. No, I wasn’t full of so much as a spark. Not anymore.
I lifted my chin. “I have nothing to say to you.”
His eyes searched my face and lingered on my lips before lifting to meet mine again. “Not even to your husband.”
“Ex-husband,” I corrected.
“No.” He smirked and shook his head. “Not ex-husband. That’s what I came here to tell you. I just discovered that our divorce was a part of a scam, and you and I are still legally married.”
Well, damn.
CHAPTER FOUR
Brendan
By dropping the bomb on her like that, I wanted an honest reaction, and I got one. A look of horror crossed her face, and I stiffened. There was a time when she loved being married to me.
Who was I kidding? By the end of our marriage, we could barely even look at each other.
“Is this your idea of a sick joke?” she whispered.
“I’m afraid not, sweetheart.”
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. I was tempted to trace my fingers over those luscious lips like old times. Kiss her senseless while she was so open and inviting. Run my hands over her body, cup her ass, draw her closer to me and…
“Ms. Quinn…” A man who looked like he had a stick rammed up his ass interrupted in a clipped tone. “I have some reports I need transcribed.”
Clearly flustered, Jillian stepped back and tucked her golden blonde hair behind her ear. The man slammed the files on the table and whirled around on his heel before stalking out. When the door banged shut behind him, I shot her a look. “He’s a real gem, isn’t he?”
“He’s my boss, and I’m at work. So, you need to leave, and we’ll get together this evening and rectify the situation. Immediately.” A mask of calm had fallen over her face as she walked over and gathered the files. “If you’ll write your number down, I’ll call you when I’m finished.”
“My number is still the same,” I reminded her.
She cocked her head and stared at me. “I deleted your number a long time ago, Brendan. I thought that part of my life was behind me.”
It hurt more than I wanted to admit, but I wasn’t going to backtrack to the part of our lives where we only communicated by phone. That wouldn’t work for what I had planned. “You finish up at six? I’ll come pick you up. We’ll go to dinner.”
I growled low in my throat. Damn, she was as frustrating as ever.
Turning on my heel, I headed toward the door, smiling as she called my name. I didn’t respond, just listened to her heels click on the floor as she ran after me.
Her volume dropped to a whisper-hiss as we passed the front desk. “Brendan. Don’t walk away from me!”
“I’m not.” I turned and smiled as she nearly ran into my chest. I steadied her with hands around her biceps, and dear god, it was like the past eight years had disappeared. The feel of her. Her scent. If lust alone would have been enough to keep us together…
I cleared my throat and released her arms. “I’m letting you get back to work. We’ll talk later over dinner.”
“The only place I want to talk to you is a lawyer’s office!”
I didn’t respond. Pushing through the door, I listened to her call my name three more times as I slipped on my sunglasses and rubbed my knuckles over the ache in my chest as I headed toward my car.
Dammit. Seeing her again had been harder than I’d expected.
At first, I wasn’t sure what to expect. When I opened the door and saw her with all those women, she was only a shadow of the woman that I used to know. The beautifully wild blonde hair that used to flow down her back was pulled up and tightly pinned against her head. Instead of those skin-tight jeans and snarky graphic t-shirts she used to favor, she was in a pair of dull-gray dress pants and a flowy black blouse.
God, I could still picture her sauntering around the kitchen in a tiny yellow polka-dotted thong and a cropped yellow t-shirt featuring bright red painted lips that said Kiss This. When I asked her where I should kiss, she gave me that cocky smile and pointed to right where she wanted my lips.
I’d made her come right up against the kitchen counter while our pancakes burned and the coffee grew cold.
Shit.
I couldn’t help but wonder if there was even a spark of that wildfire still inside her. She’d been so put-together, so calm and collected while she talked to those women. It made sense. We were both older and more mature. She was pursuing a professional career, but this wasn’t just the result of passing time. She wore that professional aura like a mask.
But when she was chasing after me, I could see a flicker of the old her, and I wanted to stoke that ember until we were both on fire.
Five more hours.
Maybe I’d see that fire later this evening. Maybe I wouldn’t.
I wasn’t sure which I should hope for the most.
***
I pulled back up to the building at six. It didn’t surprise me one bit to find her outside waiting for me. Her arms were crossed as she leaned against the brick and tapped her toe in annoyance.
“I’m not late,” I said as I got out of the car.
Glaring at me, she hurried down the steps to meet me. “You’re almost a decade too late. I made a few phone calls while I was at work. A friend recommended a law firm that’s nearby. If we hurry, we can make it before they close and get some advice on how best to clear up this mess.”
Grabbing her elbow, I steered her around and toward my car. “Forget the lawyers. We’re going to dinner.”
Every cell in her body seemed to bristle. “I already told you, I am not having dinner with you. I want a divorce.”
“And you’ll get your divorce, but first we’re going to have a civil conversation over a meal.”
Sighing, she yanked away and glared at me. Pursing her lips, she frowned, and I could see the wheels in her head turning. What was the fastest way to get rid of me? Give me what I wanted. “Fine, but I don’t want to drive with you. I’ll take an Uber.”
“And risk you running off to the lawyers without me? I don’t think so. Let’s go have dinner, and then you can order your damn car when we leave.”
“Fine.” She turned around and stared at the BMW. Grumbling, she let me open the door and climbed in. Whistling to myself, I jogged around the car and slid in behind the wheel.
“What are you in the mood for? Italian? Chinese? Steakhouse? Pizza?”
“I’m in the mood for someone who will serve us a nice juicy divorce. How did this happen, Brendan? How can we possibly still be married? This is a nightmare!”
Starting the car, I turned down the radio and pulled out into traffic. I was tempted to take her to some place that would stir up old memories, but I didn’t want to push it. “It obviously hasn’t affected you for the past few years. Are you about to walk down the aisle or something?” My stomach churned at the thought of her being with another man. Ridiculous, I knew. She’d probably been with countless men since I last saw her.
“No, but I have a reputation to maintain while I’m jump-starting my career.”
“A reputation as a single woman? I don’t think other psychologists or your clients will give a damn.” I didn’t look over at her, but I could feel that icy glare.
“A reputation as someone who has their life under control. No one will come to me for therapy about how to deal with the problems that arise in their life if my own life is falling apart. An impromptu marriage when I was eighteen? A divorce less than six months later? But not a real divorce. A fake one, apparently! And now I have an estranged husband. Does any of that seem okay to you?” She spoke so quickly that her words ran together, and her voice raised an octave. There was real panic coming through that cool exterior.
I felt a little sense of relief. Her horror about us wasn’t really about me. It was about the choices she had made. “Honestly, sweetheart, I don’t see how any of this is anyone else’s business. Your clients don’t need to know about your past.”
“And nobody will if we get a very quiet divorce. Now.” As she tapped her fingers on the handle of the door, she looked out the window as I slowed in front of the restaurant. “Arman’s steakhouse?”
“Yeah. I’ve been meaning to come to this place for a while. Seems like a good a time as any. I’ve heard great things about it. Have you been here?”
“No.” She studied her hands, an expression I couldn’t name settling over her pretty features. “I haven’t.”
There was something that she wasn’t saying. “Do you have a problem with being here?”
“No, Brendan. This is fine. I’m not really all that concerned about where we get our dinner,” she snapped. Closing her eyes briefly, she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so rude to you. You’re dealing with this just as I am.”
“You’re upset,” I said softly as I parked. “You’re allowed to react.”
Instead of responding, she yanked the door handle and got out. As I followed suit, I took a moment and watched her stalk toward the restaurant. As her hips swayed, I shook my head. I was growing fonder and fonder of those boring gray pants. No matter how boring she dressed, she just couldn’t hide that hot body. At least not from me. I knew every inch of her curves and just where she was most sensitive.
We didn’t say much as we got a table and ordered. As soon as the wine was served, she took a long, healthy sip. “Okay. Now that we’re here, can you give me a few more details? Like how it’s even possible that our divorce papers weren’t filed and how you found out?”
Leaning back in the chair, I forced myself to relax. I’d been wondering for days about how things would be once I saw her. Would I still feel some residual anger? Regret?
Instead, I just felt strange. Like I was looking at something I couldn’t quite hold. “My father died a couple weeks ago, and—”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “I’m sorry for your loss. I…” She shook her head, clearly unsure how to go on. Which made sense. My father was the source of many of our troubles, and he had been horrible to Jillian the only time they met.
“Thank you.” I met her eyes, hoping she wasn’t able to see all the sorrow I felt. “We put things to right in the end. Made amends and all that.”
<
br /> She lifted her wine to her lips. “That’s good.”
“Anyway, my lawyer was going through some old paperwork and discovered that my father had hired a private investigator to look into you a few years ago. The investigator discovered that we weren’t divorced.”
Her eyes widened. “Wait, you mean to tell me that you’ve known for years that we were still married?”
“No. My father knew for years. I don’t know why he investigated you in the first place, and he didn’t tell me what he learned after the investigation was complete. My lawyer looked into the matter himself. Our supposed divorce lawyer is serving time for running adoption scams, so I’m sure he took our money and bolted. To be fair, we did hire a firm called Quick and Easy Divorces.”
“We didn’t know any better.” She laughed dryly. “We were too young to do a divorce properly, and we were sure as hell too young to get married.”
“We were in love,” I countered.
She snorted and gripped her wine glass with both hands. “We were in lust.”
She said it like it didn’t even matter, and that struck a deep chord inside me. She was really about to imply that we’d never loved each other? True, there was lust. There was no denying that, but there was also love. The kind I’d never felt before and hadn’t even come close to feeling again.
“I don’t suppose your lawyer can recommend someone to complete the process? Someone reputable?”
“I’m sure he can, but we’re not there yet.” The waiter returned with our appetizer, and I pushed the plate toward her. “Stuffed mushrooms?”
“You’re stalling. Why would you be stalling? Why on earth would you want to not fix this immediately?” she demanded as she snagged a mushroom and popped it in her mouth. “Oh, god…” she moaned, making my cock jump to attention, “these are just as good as I heard.”
I shifted in my seat, silently demanding my damn prick to stand down as I watched her lick a crumb from her lips.
Damn.
I needed to focus.
“The news that we’re still married has come at a rather important junction in my life. I’m looking to close a business deal and getting a divorce right now wouldn’t look great. Having an estranged wife is one thing but divorcing your estranged wife out of nowhere is another.”
Reclaiming My Wife Page 4
