Mrs. February (The Calendar Girl Duet Book 2)

by Karen Cimms

  I tugged on a piece of cotton batting sticking out from the opening of my cast and twisted it while I waited for him to finish. “I’m glad you find this so amusing,” I said when he finally shut up.

  He shook his head. “Hoo boy. I’m not laughing at you. And I’m not laughing at the idea of my wife posing naked either.” He pointed the long neck of his bottle in my direction. “Not that she couldn’t, mind you. She’s a hot little babe. But it’s just not something she’d ever do. She won’t even go swimming without a T-shirt on over her bathing suit. I’m laughing because I got a picture in my head of some guy like Antoine telling Diane to strip down and her kneeing him right in the nuts.”

  The laughter started again, and I entertained the thought of walking out. I’d been gone all day with my phone turned off, and the sun was starting to set. I would have liked to be able to go home with some sort of resolution, but that apparently was not going to be possible.

  I started to rise, but Wally held out his hand. “Hold on there. We’re not finished yet.”

  “Really? Seems to me you find all this pretty funny.”

  “Naw, man. Sit down and listen.” The laughter was gone, and the look in his eyes was serious as well.

  I sat. Despite my annoyance with my friend’s reaction to my situation, sitting in the barn, breathing in the scent of motor oil and hay, had a calming effect.

  Wally pulled a red bandana from his back pocket and mopped his face. “I don’t blame you for being upset, but maybe you’ll be less upset when you hear what I have to say.”

  “I don’t kn—”

  “I know about the photos. Rain told Diane a few months ago and she, of course, told me. You know how women love to blab.”

  Wally resettled himself into the chair. “Despite knowing you were dead set against her doing any more photo shoots, she did it to get the money to buy tickets for you to see Harlan St. James and the Vultures. The concert sold out, and she had to buy the tickets through a third party. Diane said she had her heart set on buying those tickets for you for Christmas. Since she didn’t want you to know how much she’d paid, and because she wanted to buy them with her own money, she talked Diane into buying the tickets on our credit card—which to be honest is really how I found out. I went online to order new wheels for the race car, and my credit card was declined. When I checked the statement and saw a charge for fifteen hundred bucks, I blew a fucking gasket. Even then, I had to pry it out of Diane. I assumed it was something she’d bought, but she told me it was for Rain and that Rain would be paying her back by the end of the week. Then we had this whole big blowup about the damn wheels. Things got pretty ugly, but she came around.” He took a long swallow of his beer and grinned. “Make-up sex. You can’t beat it.” He pointed the neck of his bottle at me. “Which is what you should be doing, if you weren’t so pigheaded.”

  “Me? I didn’t do anything.” I rose from the chair so fast it tipped over. “It’s bad enough she’s posing topless, or worse—but with another guy? Do you have any idea what that feels like? To see some other guy with his hands all over your wife?” I jabbed a finger in his direction. “I swear to Christ, you start laughing again and I’m knocking your ass right out of that chair.”

  Struggling to keep a straight face, he raised his hands in the air.

  “Cool your jets. I’m not finished.” He drained his bottle and grabbed two more. “Rain didn’t know she was supposed to pose with the guy. He showed up in the afternoon, and she tried to back out. Turns out she hadn’t read the contract. If she didn’t finish the day’s shoot with said half-naked stranger, she would forfeit the day’s pay and have to pay for another model to take her place. She didn’t have a choice.”

  “Yeah, she did. She shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”

  He dragged the chair back against the wall. “I agree, but what’s done is done. The experience was pretty upsetting for her, according to Diane, and she’s terrified of you finding out. I think it’s very possible that fear contributed to the sudden change in her appearance.”

  I shook my head. She’d done that after the concert—the one I’d just learned that she’d practically prostituted herself to buy the tickets for. The concert I’d stormed out of because I couldn’t stand the idea of someone seeing what I considered mine. As if she were my property.

  I was a fucking caveman. And an idiot.

  The nausea from yesterday returned. I pressed my fingers to my eyes and steadied my breathing.

  “Time to go, buddy. You gotta go kiss some sweet little ass.”

  My head snapped up. I glared at him, but all he did was laugh.

  “Aw, c’mon. You know I’m just kidding with you. You’re so easy to get going.”

  I grabbed my empties and deposited them in the bin by the door.

  “You’re lucky I like you.”

  He wrapped his meaty arms around my neck and put me in a headlock. “Like me? You fuckin’ love me.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I didn’t want to be sitting there waiting for him when he came in. I had no idea what I’d done or how he’d broken his hand, but obviously he didn’t want me to know or to talk to me about it. But that didn’t stop me from worrying or sitting there like a zombie, pretending that I was watching television.

  Zac and Izzy had gone to bed about an hour earlier, both of them asking where Daddy was. I hated lying, but how could I tell them I didn’t know? I told them he was working. Izzy was smart enough to figure out he couldn’t work on cars with a broken hand, so I told her Uncle Dylan had given him some paperwork to do.

  By nine thirty, I forced myself from the sofa and began getting ready for bed. I’d just turned off the water after brushing my teeth when I heard the front door open. I wanted to run to him, but I stopped myself. He’d behaved badly for whatever reason, and he was the one who needed to come to me. I dropped my toothbrush into the cup, opened the jar of Oil of Olay, and dabbed some on my cheeks and forehead, taking my time, rubbing it in. Then I turned out the light and went to check on Zac, then Izzy.

  When I stepped into our bedroom, it was empty. I swallowed the disappointment that rose up from the pit of my stomach. I picked up Chase’s pillow, then hastily set it down again. If he wanted to sleep on the sofa tonight, he could get his own damn pillow.

  “Hey.” His voice was soft, and although he spoke just one word, it was filled with regret.

  He leaned against the doorjamb, his hand jammed in his pocket, the thumb of his broken hand hooked into the belt loop of his jeans. Dark half-moons underlined his eyes, and his hair looked as if he’d combed it with his hand.

  I tried to answer, but my throat had gone dry. The best I could do was swallow.

  He pushed off the door and stepped into the room.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? Shutting me out? Snapping at me? Sleeping on the couch? Turning off your phone? Making me worry all day about where you were and if you were all right?”

  He dipped his head, but his eyes remained locked on mine. “Everything. All of it.”

  I’d spent the last half of the day frightened. Now all I felt was anger.

  “I think you’re going to have to do better than that.”

  He dragged his good hand through his hair. “I had a shitty day yesterday, and I did something really stupid and punched a wall, which made everything worse. I was tired and in pain, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry. I really am.”

  There was something he wasn’t telling me. I knew that for sure, but I also had a strong feeling telling me to let it go, not to push for more. As frustrating as it was, I decided to listen to the voice in my head. I took a deep breath and envisioned the hurt and anger leaving my body as I exhaled.

  “Are you hungry?”

  He took a step toward me and shook his head. “Not exactly.” His hands settled near my waist. “Not for food, anyway.”

  A sixth sense was one thing. Forgetting what he’d put me through all night and day—after les
s than a minute of conversation—was another. “You’re kidding, right?”

  His mouth touched the spot below my ear. From there, he moved down the curve of my neck, leaving a trail of goose bumps in his wake. “Nope.” His breath was hot against my throat. “Not kidding.”

  My knees turned to rubber. Sensing the effect he was having on me, he pressed his broken hand against my lower back while the other hand lowered the strap of my camisole. “Don’t you want to have make-up sex?” His lips followed the trail of his fingers over my bare shoulder.

  I tilted my head, giving him more access. A tiny squeak was the best I could do in the way of an answer. He was weakening my resolve—not that it took all that much where he was concerned.

  He captured my bottom lip in his teeth and nibbled lightly. “I love you, Rain,” he breathed into my mouth. “I love you more than I think I can ever show you.” He kissed the side of my mouth. “More than I’d ever dreamed it was possible to love someone.” The tip of his tongue swept across the seam of my lips, allowing him to kiss the other corner of my mouth. My knees were jelly. “I’m lost without you. I can’t help that I’m an ass sometimes.”

  His tongue parted my lips easily, brushing mine as he walked me backward toward the bed. When the backs of my legs hit the side of the mattress, he lifted me effortlessly and guided my legs around his hips as I looped my arms around his neck.

  He lay me down and pulled back far enough that he could gaze into my eyes.

  “Will you forgive me?”

  I cupped his cheeks in both my hands. “I just wish you’d share whatever demons you’re wrestling with instead of taking it out on me.”

  He dropped his head to my shoulder. “I know. I’ll try. Just always know that no matter what a jerk I am, I love you.”

  And I loved him. Maybe that was why I was so vulnerable where he was concerned, and that his actions could hurt me so badly. He owned my heart. Held it in his hands. For as much as it hurt sometimes, I felt the way he loved me so much more. I guess that made the good times so much sweeter.

  I gnawed on my bottom lip, keeping him on edge just a little longer. “You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know?”

  He snorted into my neck. “Yeah, but I’m a jerk who worships the ground you walk on.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  June

  Chase, Wally, Bobby, and Dennis unloaded the race car on the street and began pushing it onto the grass. Earlier that morning, Chase had removed an entire section of privacy fence, promising he would put it back up right after they returned the car to Wally’s barn. The huge divots the tires left in the lawn had me second-guessing my decision to allow Chase to bring a modified stock car into our back yard as part of Zac’s Cars-themed birthday celebration.

  Watching the path of destruction, I was kicking myself. It would have been far easier to have the party at Diane and Wally’s, and she’d offered, but it wouldn’t have been fair to burden them with twenty screaming three-year-olds as well as their parents and our other friends and family too.

  “I can’t believe Dylan and Lorraine are coming,” Diane said as I returned to the kitchen, where she was placing red Solo cups on the island next to the bar area Chase had set up last night. This would be his first party with lots of small children, but it seemed he already had an idea of what he might need to get through it.

  I carried the cake to the table. Three layers of marble cake—Zac couldn’t decide between yellow and chocolate—covered in a fondant racetrack with Lightning McQueen on the top. He’d been so excited when he saw it that I was afraid he wasn’t going to let me cut it.

  “You’re not the only one. Chase has invited them for every holiday since we got married, and every party, picnic, you name it, but they always have an excuse why they can’t come. They’ve never invited us to anything. If we hadn’t stopped by last Halloween, I wouldn’t even know where they live.”

  The red and blue napkins I’d asked Chase to put out earlier were sitting in one tall pile near the cake. I stacked them in alternating colors and spread them into fans across the front of the table. There was nothing wrong with making things look nice, even if the honored guests could barely see over the table.

  “So what’s changed?”

  I pulled five pounds of raw chopped meat out of the refrigerator and started forming it into patties.

  “Who knows? Chase’s mother might have said something, although that would surprise me. I think he and Dylan are getting along a little better. Maybe that’s it. I didn’t want to poke at it, you know? If they come, that’s a good thing, right?”

  A loud snort told me Diane believed that as much as I did.

  “It’s good for Chase.”

  She raised her hands in an innocent who, me? gesture, but before she could speak, I heard the deep rumble of an engine, and the kitchen floor began vibrating beneath my bare feet.

  “I’ll kill him,” I said, rushing to the sink to scrub the ground beef off my hands. If they were driving that monster over my yard and tearing out more grass, they were all dead meat.

  “Kill who?”

  “All of them. Chase. Wally.”

  She looked back at me, puzzled, from her perch by the back door. “Why?”

  “Don’t you hear that?”

  “I do, but it’s not them. It’s coming from the front.”

  I yanked a towel off the counter and charged for the front door. Sure enough, some fancy-looking sports car was idling near the curb. While it wasn’t exactly as loud as the stock car in the back yard would be, it didn’t exactly purr like a kitten either.

  Diane came up behind me. “Look at that—a 2015 Aston Martin DB11 V-12 coupe with gloss black, diamond-turned wheels. Sweet.”

  For as much as Diane and Wally fought, they were perfect for each other. That girl knew her cars.

  “Do you think that might be Luigi?” I asked.

  “Luigi? From the pizza shop?”

  “From Cars. You know, the yellow one.”

  “Beats me. Did Chase hire—”

  Zac came flying down the hall, arms flapping and feet moving so fast I was surprised he could keep up with himself.

  “It’s Luigi! Luigi’s here for my party!”

  He pushed the screen door open and soared down the stairs. I followed in hot pursuit. Chase would be crushed if his surprise got ruined.

  Zac took off across the yard, but it didn’t take long to catch him and scoop him into my arms.

  The sports car idled in front of the house.

  Zac wiggled and squirmed, and I almost dropped him. “Hey, buddy. You can’t go running off like that. You know you’re not supposed to be in the front yard, especially by yourself.”

  “Yeah, but look.” He pointed at the car. “It’s Luigi.”

  “Maybe, but I think we should go inside now.”

  He started wiggling again. “I wanna see Luigi.”

  What harm could it do at this point? He’d already seen the car. It was unlikely he’d forget about it now. I set him down on the grass and took him by the hand.

  “Okay, but no touching anything unless Luigi says you can.”

  I smiled and waved at the driver as we approached, even though the windows were tinted and I couldn’t see who was inside. We were almost to the curb when the engine revved loudly and the car peeled off down the street.

  I jerked Zac’s arm, yanking him backward. Whoever this jackass was had no business being around kids. Chase had to be out of his mind if he thought I’d let a bunch of small children anywhere near that clown.

  Chase appeared beside me. “Who was that?”

  “I don’t know. You invited him.”

  “You were waving.”

  “Zac thought it was Luigi.”

  “The guy from Antonio’s?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Not from the pizzeria. The yellow car from Cars.”

  It took a moment to sink in. “The movie?”

  “The birthday theme? Cars? Ring any bells?”

>   “I didn’t invite anyone other than my family and the guys from the race team. And none of them have a two-hundred-thousand-dollar car.”

  “Seriously? That car was worth two hundred grand?”

  “Or more. That’s the car I was asking you about, remember?”

  “The car you asked me about was silver.”

  He rubbed his forehead and slipped his arm around my shoulder. “Do you know how much I love you?”

  “I may have forgotten. Can you show me later?”

  He swooped Zac up in his arms and set him on his shoulders.

  “You can count on it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  July

  “Damn, these are good.” Diane snatched another red, white, and blue Jell-O shot off the tray and squeezed it into her mouth. “I could eat these all day.” She looked at the empty plastic cup in her hand. “Or is it drink these all day?”

  “Whichever it is, you’ve been doing it. Your tongue is turning black.”

  She wiggled her discolored tongue at me. “At least this way, we know where’s it’s been.”

  I hip-bumped her and raised the tray over her head as she tried to swipe another. “And that might be my cue to cut you off.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  I backed into the screen door leading into the yard and nudged it open. “Let me pass out at least one tray of these before you gobble them all down.”

  Diane and Wally’s annual Fourth of July celebration had attracted just about everyone we knew. Both of their families were there, and Mom and her latest beau. All of the guys from the race team and their families had come, and even some of the regulars from Blondie’s, most of whom I rarely saw anymore, like Fish. I’d known him for years but had only just learned that the reason everyone called him Fish was because he drank like one. I’d always assumed he liked to fish. Go figure. His real name was Howard, which didn’t suit him at all.

  No, Fish’s moniker suited him. He couldn’t hold his liquor worth a damn, and he got drunk faster than anyone I’d ever known. Maybe it was because he never stopped drinking.