“I look forward to hearing it.”
Andi leaned toward her. “Nina, I would love for you to come work with me. You’re great with the kids, organized and efficient. What’s not to love? As long as Dr. Harrington is okay with it, you’re hired. We can talk about the details after I talk to him. How’s that?”
“Wonderful. Thank you.”
Nina rose and left. Andi wanted to jump out of her chair and do a little happy dance, but she contented herself with a chair wiggle and a silent one-handed high five. She had staff. Or at least the beginnings of a staff. Getting Nina was a huge coup. With a decent office manager and a couple of part-time nurses, she would have a real practice. One day she would even have a kitchen and then life would be pretty darned close to perfect.
Chapter Seventeen
ANDI TURNED IN front of the mirror, but couldn’t see beyond her shoulders. First thing in the morning, she was going to check the plans for her master bath and make sure there was a full-length mirror somewhere. How was she supposed to fully obsess about her date when she couldn’t see how she looked? A dating woman had needs, and seeing herself in a mirror was a big one.
She checked the digital clock by the bed and saw she had less than ten minutes until Wade was due to arrive. Which meant changing her mind again about what to wear was no longer practical. It wasn’t as if she had forty-seven choices, either. Apparently there was a whole first-date-clothing protocol that she’d completely forgotten. Because from the second she’d stepped out of the shower over an hour ago until right this second, she hadn’t been able to decide what to wear.
Jeans seemed too casual, trousers were too worklike, which left either a skirt or a dress. She wasn’t really a skirt person. It came from her boyish hips. Dresses never hung right, so her selection was pathetically limited. She certainly didn’t own anything remotely sexy.
She’d settled on a polyester wrap dress that felt like silk and didn’t wrinkle. It was her all-purpose little black dress. Without the sexy, unfortunately. Then she’d decided the dress was too formal for a place like Blackberry Island. Plus, she looked as if she were going to a funeral. So she’d pulled out a purple cotton dress that was maybe twelve years old, but still pretty cute. It had capped sleeves, which she was probably too old for, but Wade didn’t strike her as a fashionista, so he wouldn’t know.
The scooped neck was nearly low enough to be flirty and she’d put on her best push-up bra to make the most of what she had. The slightly full skirt of the dress made it seem as though she had hips, which was nice.
“Forget it,” she told herself, turning away from the mirror. Wade had seen her in shorts and a T-shirt more than once. He had a fair idea of what her body looked like. If he was only turned on by women with Scarlet Johansson–esque curves, he wouldn’t have asked her out in the first place.
“I’m going to throw up,” she muttered, pressing her hand to her stomach. “I should have dated more.”
Not exactly practical advice, considering that she’d been in a committed relationship for over a decade, but true nonetheless. Going out with Wade? What had she been thinking? She didn’t know how to act or what to say.
She gave her closet one more hate stare, then headed down the stairs. No matter what, sometime in the next couple of weeks, she was going to get her ass to Seattle and buy some new clothes. Fun, age-appropriate clothes she felt good in. She would go to a little boutique and put herself into the fashion-forward hands of one of the salespeople.
She’d reached the main level of her house only to realize the whole place was under construction. There were tarps and cabinets everywhere. Tools sat on top of plastic-covered furniture. Pencil from the outline of Boston’s mural covered the walls.
There was nowhere to sit, nowhere to have a casual conversation before heading out on a date. She also hadn’t thought to provide drinks or appetizers. There were a couple of bottles of red wine upstairs, but where was she supposed to put them? Or glasses? And inviting Wade up to her makeshift attic living quarters seemed a little too weird.
“I can’t do this,” she murmured, even as she heard footsteps on the porch.
She walked to the front door and pulled it open before he could knock.
“I’m not very good at dating,” she blurted, then winced. “Just so you don’t expect this to go well.”
Wade stood on her porch and looked at her. His not speaking gave her a second to take in the dark-washed jeans, cream-colored shirt and surprisingly nice loafers.
He looked good, she thought with appreciation. Sexy and masculine. He smelled good, too. All clean soap and temptation.
One corner of his mouth turned up. “You might want to try something more conventional. Hello works well. At least it always has for me.”
She hung her head. “Kill me now.”
“Not my style.” He stepped into the house. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”
She laughed as she shut the door behind him. “Do you? I have a great contractor. Want his name?”
He moved in front of her and put his hands on her upper arms. “A guy, huh? I hear stories about women and their contractors. Any of them true?”
His thumbs moved against her skin. Just a slow up-and-down rubbing that shouldn’t have been all that interesting, yet was. She found herself getting lost in his dark eyes.
“Not yet,” she whispered, “but I have high hopes.”
“Me, too.”
He leaned in and kissed her. His mouth was firm, yet gentle, teasing even as he claimed her. Her arms came up and around his neck. His hands slipped to her waist. She took a step closer so she was pressing against him from shoulder to thigh.
She tilted her head. When she felt the light caress of his tongue on her bottom lip, she parted her lips for him. He deepened the kiss, and she met him touch for touch, sinking into the liquid arousal washing through her. Hunger burned, making her breasts tingle and ache. She wanted him touching her everywhere. Then she wanted to feel him inside her.
He shifted so he could kiss her cheek; then he pressed his lips to her jaw.
“I made reservations,” he murmured. “For dinner.”
“Okay.” She was having trouble catching her breath, which made speaking difficult. “Dinner would be great.”
He kissed along the side of her neck, then licked the sensitive skin behind her ear. She shuddered as her thighs began to tremble.
“We should, uh, probably get going,” he said, before nibbling on her earlobe.
She gasped and arched against him. Her belly came in contact with something very hard and very thick. Her eyes flew open and he straightened. They stared at each other.
“Do I need to apologize?” he asked.
For having an erection? In her sadly chaste world, it was practically a miracle.
She shook her head.
There were a thousand reasons to smile politely and suggest they head out for their dinner. With Matt, sex had always been if not scheduled, then at least regulated. He didn’t believe in spontaneous encounters or skipping dinner to get right to dessert. That was the world she knew.
There was also the possibility that Wade really had just wanted to go to dinner and that assuming anything else would lead to a new level of humiliation. But Andi suddenly realized she’d spent her whole life playing it safe. Buying this house had been her first really impulsive act. Maybe it was time to keep the trend going.
“Dinner would be very nice,” she said, aware she was jumping off a cliff. She could only hope to find a nice soft net below, instead of jagged rocks and certain death. “Or we could go upstairs.”
“What’s upstairs?”
“My bed and condoms.”
Something hot flared in Wade’s eyes. He gave her a slow, sexy smile. “Lead the way.”
* * *
<
br /> There was no way she could do this, Deanna thought. It was impossible. Ridiculous. It was also all she could think of as a solution. Men liked sex. She had the working parts. As far as she knew, Colin hadn’t been with anyone else. Surely he would be interested. If she could just get him back into bed, everything else would work itself out. At least that was her plan. She tried not to think about the disaster the dollhouse incident had been. Even though she’d replaced the broken one with a new, shiny house, the twins still flinched whenever she got too close to their toys.
She showered and shaved her legs, then went through her underwear drawer. She had a couple of thongs she never bothered to wear because they were too uncomfortable, but desperate times and all that. One blue-and-white pair had a matching bra. She’d never worn either, mostly because they were too trashy. As she fingered the lace, she thought maybe Colin had given them to her as a present.
She tossed both on the bed, then knelt on the carpet and pulled out the under-bed storage container on her side. After unzipping the top, she peeled it back and studied the contents. Mostly she saw her winter sweaters. The thick, heavy ones she put away for the season. But there was also a fair amount of lingerie. Short, sexy nightgowns, a couple of camisole sets with tap pants. A teddy. Most never worn, several with tags in place. All from Colin.
She’d meant what she’d told Boston earlier that day. She never initiated sex. If Colin asked, she mostly said yes. Well, some of the time. At least half. Lately he’d been asking less and less. She’d been too busy to notice. Or maybe she’d been grateful because sex with her husband confused her.
He was a patient lover, she thought, sitting on the carpet, staring at the pastel rainbow of silk and satin. Or he had been. While he hadn’t been her first time, he’d been her first orgasm. She’d resisted letting him touch her “down there” and had claimed she would die if he ever tried to use his mouth. But he’d kept at her, gently teasing and touching until the magic of what he could do to her body had seduced her into giving in.
She remembered the first time she’d climaxed, mostly because afterward she’d felt exposed and terrified. She’d cried and he’d held her until she was still. Then he’d made love to her again and had told her that he loved her.
She’d wanted more, she remembered. She’d wanted the sensations they created together, even as she’d resisted the emotional intimacy that came with the act. Afraid to be that vulnerable, she’d withdrawn little by little. After a while she figured out that the less she participated, the less she wanted to. It was as if that part of her grew rusty with disuse. In an effort to keep herself safe, she’d guided their sex life to be about him.
He’d needed more, she thought, remembering him asking if she wanted him at all or if it was always going to be only about him. She’d dismissed the question because she was busy. A young mother with two children, then three, then five. Who had time for sex, let alone any interest? She was run ragged with the demands of her family.
What she hadn’t admitted, even to herself, was that she’d chosen to withdraw. Because not connecting was so much safer than exposing herself. It wasn’t the body part she worried about—it was her soul. What if Colin was able to see how damaged she was? So she kept herself safe, but at what price?
She tucked the lingerie back in the storage container. After zipping the canvas closed, she pushed everything back under the bed. But out of sight was not out of mind, she thought as she walked into the bathroom.
She put on the fancy bra and matching thong, then went into her closet. She pulled on a sleeveless dress with a plunging neckline. One that zipped down the back and would easily fall to the floor. Then, before she could stop herself, she walked out into the hallway.
It was nearly ten. All the girls except Madison and Carrie were asleep. The house was quiet. Deanna knew her oldest and her friend would stay in her room until the morning, and her girls slept deeply. So it was nearly like being alone.
She went down the stairs, her bare feet not making any sound. She paused outside Colin’s study, then tapped once and went inside.
Her husband sat on the sofa, reading. His hair was mussed and the reading glasses he’d started using the previous year were perched on his nose. He’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt when he’d gotten home earlier that evening. His feet were bare.
He looked good, she thought in mild surprise. Younger than his nearly forty-years. Sexy. They’d both stayed in shape.
She tried to look at him as other women would. Not as a husband, but as a man. He was, she admitted, someone who still interested her.
He glanced up and saw her, then raised his eyebrows but didn’t speak. Nothing about his body language invited, but she forced herself to smile anyway.
“I thought I’d come say hi,” she told him. “We didn’t get a chance to talk much at dinner. How was your week?”
He removed his glasses and put them on the small table next to the sofa, then dropped the magazine to his lap. “My week was fine. How was yours?”
“Busy.” She inched closer to the sofa. “There were a lot of activities before school ended for the year. I’ve also had the final paperwork for everyone. Registering them for all their camps.”
He watched her approach. She sat on the sofa, close, but not too close, then angled toward him. Feeling like an idiot, she leaned forward slightly, showing off her cleavage. The lacy bra did its thing, making her appear bigger. Not that Colin seemed to notice.
“Lucy’s excited about the party she’s going to tomorrow,” he said. “I hope she gets a new best friend quickly. At her age, it’s important.”
“I agree.”
He picked up his magazine. “Was there anything else?”
Deanna sat there, completely at a loss. What was she supposed to do now? She’d put on the stupid dress, was wearing a thong and a padded bra and nothing was happening. She didn’t know what to say or do. Acting sexy had never been her thing. She didn’t know the first thing about seduction. She might have been married to Colin for more than a decade, but she had no idea as to how to turn him on.
“I thought,” she began, then had to stop because she had no clue what came next.
He stared at her expectantly. “Yes?”
Her cheeks heated. “It’s been...”
He continued to look at her, either not getting it or wanting her to suffer. For a second something flickered in his eyes. Not interest, she thought. Maybe compassion, but she couldn’t be sure.
Nothing about this was fair, she thought. Why was she the one who had to try? Why did she have to change? It wasn’t as if living with him was any picnic and—
“Deanna?”
She stared into his blue eyes and tried to see some small hint of interest. Some flicker of what had been there before. There was only faint impatience, as if he wanted her gone.
Men were visual, she reminded herself. A factoid she’d probably read in a magazine while getting her hair done. Actions might get the point across more easily than words.
She reached her arm behind and grabbed the tab of the zipper. After giving it a pull she shrugged out of her dress and let it fall to her waist.
“You gave me this bra and panty set,” she said, not able to look at him as she sat there more exposed than she could remember being in months. “I saw them tonight and thought...If you wanted, we could...”
He looked at her for a long time, his expression still unreadable. His steady, blue gaze made her uncomfortable, but she refused to pull up her dress.
“You’re doing this because you think it’s what I want,” he said at last. “Not because you have any interest in me being in your bed.”
Shit. She glanced at her lap, then back at him. “No, Colin,” she lied. “I do want you.”
His jaw tightened. “Right. I’ve seen it with the girls, Deanna. You’re going thr
ough the motions, but you’re not getting it. Any of it. We’re still not real to you. We’re still in the way.”
She flushed, then forced herself to her feet. The dress fell to the floor. “So that’s it?” she demanded, the shaking starting on the inside and working its way out. “You’re saying no?”
“I’m saying no.”
Her chin came up and she saw him picking up his glasses. He turned his attention back to the magazine.
“I’m pretty tired,” he told her. “Good night.”
She felt the slap as surely as if he’d struck her with his open hand. Her cheeks stung as heat burned through her. Anger joined shame as she pulled up her dress and then ran from the room.
But when she reached the hallway, the anger disappeared, taking all her strength with it. She sank onto the floor and dropped her head to her knees. She shivered, perhaps from cold, perhaps from the realization that whatever Colin had once felt for her had died long ago. She didn’t know what he wanted from her, but it wasn’t this marriage.
For the first time in months, maybe years, maybe ever, she longed to feel his warm hand on her shoulder. She wanted him to draw her to her feet and hold her the way he used to. Back when they still hugged. He’d always been the last one to let go. He used to joke that she couldn’t break a hug fast enough. Now she wanted to experience that lingering hug again, only this time she wouldn’t let go first. She might not let go at all.
But he didn’t come out to check on her. She sat there alone, cold and shivering. Finally a cramp in her leg and hip drove her to her feet. She zipped up her dress and climbed back to her bedroom. Once there, she walked to the window and stared out at the night.
She didn’t know what questions to ask, let alone understand how to find the answers. All she knew for sure was that she’d been so busy getting everything right that she’d lost something she hadn’t even known she wanted. For all her love of planning and details, when it came to Colin, she’d offered too little, too late.
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