“You want to help clean?” she asked teasingly.
“Not exactly. Not in the way you mean, anyway. I know you want to continue working while you’re pregnant.”
“Yes, I do.” They’d had this discussion more than once.
“And I know you like to cook.”
“I do.”
“Then I think you ought to hire a maid service. As you get further along in your pregnancy, you’re going to want to use your energy for the things you like to do most, and I don’t think cleaning’s on that list.”
“Unless it’s washing the floor with you.” She knew she was flirting with him, but it felt so good.
His blue eyes told her he remembered that Saturday vividly. “We can always do that in between when the mood hits,” he responded with a grin.
Eve took a few bites of the scrambled eggs. “These are really good. Did you make them?”
“I can’t take the credit. They’re Emily’s. And that rose is from the bush alongside the house that looks like it’s growing wild.”
Picking up the rose, Eve held it to her nose, inhaling the sweet scent. “It’s beautiful, Hunter. Thank you.”
“You’ve made a home here for us, Eve, and I appreciate that.” They gazed at each other for a few moments and emotion tightened Eve’s throat.
Hunter rose from the bed. “So will you call a maid service?”
“Sure. That will give me a chance to spend more time in the garden.”
He shook his head. “We can always hire a gardener for that.”
“I love planting and watching things grow. Besides, I’ve made a new friend. I really like Lauren MacMillan from MacMillan’s Garden Center. She can give me lots of tips.”
Hunter went to the door. “I’ll tell Emily you liked her eggs. Slade said they’ll probably leave before you come down. Take your time dressing. Do you think we could take Amanda to the park?”
He looked almost like a kid who was going to start on some great adventure. Because of the number of families in their development, a playground had been erected in a park about three blocks away. “I don’t see why not.”
Smiling again, he said, “See you downstairs.”
“See you downstairs.”
She liked the idea of making a playdate with her husband. She liked the idea of getting to know the man behind the exterior he let everyone else see.
Mature trees lined the street that led to the playground. Their home was in a newer part of the development that had grown in stages spanning the past twenty years. As Eve walked beside Hunter over the thick grass leading to the swings and play sets, the sun shone brightly on them. Hunter was wearing sunglasses and as he carried Amanda, every once in a while she reached for them. He laughed, took them off for a while, then put them back on until she reached for them again. It was a game they played on their walk.
They started out on the swings. There were chair seats with safety straps to hold children Amanda’s age. She giggled as they took turns pushing her, and she didn’t tire of that game for a long while. Afterward, Eve sat with Amanda on the seesaw while Hunter sat on the other end, adjusting his weight so he could bob them up and down. Amanda laughed, and Eve bent down, giving the child a kiss on her cheek. She was so sweet, so precious. Her brown hair was the color of Emily’s. Her brown eyes were mischievous and alert and twinkled with a child’s innocence.
After a few circles around slowly on the small wooden merry-go-round, Hunter carried Amanda to the shade of an elm. They sat and Eve offered the little girl a zwieback cookie. After she happily took it, she gnawed on it.
“She’s going to have another tooth before long,” Eve remarked.
“Slade says she grows so fast that he’s afraid he’ll miss something if he blinks.”
“It’s hard to believe that at the end of January we’ll have a child of our own,” Eve murmured, brushing a few crumbs from Amanda’s leg.
“I know.” Hunter’s gaze met hers.
“I just wish I’d been around children more. There’s a bookshop near the gallery. I think I’ll go to work a little bit early tomorrow and stop in there to pick up a few books on parenting.”
“You’re a natural.” Hunter’s voice was low and sincere.
“You are, too. You know, I was thinking. There’s no reason we couldn’t start decorating the nursery. Even if we don’t buy furniture quite yet.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” The silence that settled between them was more comfortable than any she’d ever felt. “What do you want for our son or daughter, Hunter? I mean, what kind of life?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Well, things like schools. I was sent to private schools, but I’m not sure that’s always best.”
“No, I don’t think it is. I’d opt for a good public school, some outside activities but not too many. But most of all, I’d want to teach my son or daughter what’s important. I’d want him or her to know we’re always here if we’re needed. I’d want our child to know there are no ceilings, no barriers, just a wide-open world.”
“And what if our son or daughter chooses to be a surfer in L.A.?” she asked.
“Then I hope he or she would be the best darn surfer he or she would know how to be and would have a heck of a lot of fun doing it.”
They looked at each other and laughed and then got caught up in the moment, the bright sun, the summer air and being together.
Eve felt lost in the blue of Hunter’s eyes until suddenly Amanda decided she didn’t want to sit still any longer. Quicker than the breeze, she was on her knees and crawling fast. Hunter scrambled up, but she was a good ten feet away before he caught her.
“Hey, you,” he said, scooping her up and tickling her tummy.
She laughed and kicked her feet at him. Almost like a football, he carried her back to where they were sitting and plopped on the ground again with her. “That’s scary. She’s fast. She could have been in the next county before I knew it.”
Eve brushed Amanda’s hair from her brow. “I guess you have to keep an eye on them every minute.”
“As they get older, and you can’t watch them every minute, then how do you keep them safe?” Hunter asked.
“You’ll find a way,” she said confidently, knowing that about Hunter.
“We’ll find a way,” he responded with a look that made her believe he could forgive her and love her again someday.
Chapter Nine
On Wednesday evening the temperature was a balmy eighty as Eve set the patio table for supper. She missed Slade and Emily and Mark and Amanda. They’d left yesterday morning and the house seemed so empty. Hunter had worked late last night, since he’d taken the morning off to drive Slade and his family to the airport. So tonight Eve was looking forward to some quiet time alone with him. A FedEx package had come for him earlier and she’d laid it on the glass table next to his place so she wouldn’t forget to give it to him. She was setting salads on the table on the patio when she heard him pull into the garage. A few minutes later he came outside.
“Hi,” she said with a smile. “How was your day?”
“Busy. How about yours?”
“I sold two paintings this morning,” she said proudly. “And the woman’s bringing her husband in tomorrow morning to consult on a sculpture.”
“You should be working on commission,” Hunter teased, then he spied the package by his place setting.
She handed it to him. “This came about an hour ago.”
He opened it quickly and took out a computer disk and a sheaf of papers. After he analyzed them a few moments, he said, “I thought so.”
“What?” Eve asked.
“It’s the proof I need to show Larry once and for all that the merger he’s planning could sink Morgan’s Office Products permanently.”
“What kind of proof?”
“I have a friend who’s a security consultant and is good with databases and the like. I have financial documents here
that prove the company that Larry wants to merge with has been doing some creative bookkeeping. They’re reporting revenues they don’t have. It’s what my father suspected.”
“Do you think Larry will listen to you?”
“He has no choice. The information’s here in black and white.”
Just then the doorbell chimes rang. They could be heard even out on the patio.
“I’ll get it,” Eve offered.
When she opened the front door, she found Barbara Kellogg, the woman who had been so familiar with Hunter at the cocktail party Eve had attended. She was smiling and dressed in a navy summer business suit with white high heels. The suit showed off her curves, and Eve considered the hem of her skirt much too short for the office. Besides her purse, she held a manila envelope.
“Hello,” Eve said politely, wishing she could close the door and tell the woman Hunter was nowhere around.
“Hi. I have some papers for Hunter.”
This woman had more than papers for Hunter, Eve guessed, but she supposed she had no recourse but to let her inside. She wished she’d had a chance to change before Hunter came home. Her mint-green, terry culotte outfit and white sandals made her feel underdressed.
Before she had a chance to invite Barbara inside, Hunter came into the foyer. “Barbara.” He sounded surprised.
“Hi, Hunter. You said you needed these figures as soon as I had them ready.”
“I don’t think that little French perfume company you want to buy will sell out to anyone else until they get your offer.”
“You know once I get an idea I like to move on it,” Barbara said in that intimate kind of tone that told Eve she and Hunter had had many dealings before. “Besides. You told me about your new house and offered to give me a personal tour. Here I am.”
Hunter took the envelope from her. “The tour starts here. Come on. I’ll show you around.”
The last thing Eve was going to do was trail along. “I’ll make sure supper doesn’t burn,” she said sweetly as she went to the kitchen.
Hunter just arched a brow, but beckoned Barbara into the family room. “We spend a lot of our time in here.”
When Barbara crossed over to the fireplace, Eve went to the kitchen. She could hear Barbara exclaiming about the merits of vaulted ceilings.
Eve turned down the oven and then heard Barbara’s high heels on the steps. They were going upstairs. She’d probably asked for a private tour of the master bedroom. That woman had gall, Eve would give her that.
Although Eve busied herself in the kitchen, she was aware of time passing, much too much of it. But finally Hunter and Barbara came downstairs again and disappeared into the living room, and then to the room beyond that held Emory Ruskin’s paintings. Eve knew she had to stop thinking about the art that way. They were Hunter’s now. She’d signed them over.
She didn’t regret it, but every now and then she remembered that the title of the house was in his name only. Not that she cared about owning half the house. But if Hunter had trusted her…
Eve was putting dollops of whipped cream on a strawberry pie when Hunter and Barbara came into the kitchen.
“Nice work space,” Barbara commented. “But I never have time to cook.” She looked over at Eve and the pie. “You must spend a lot of your time in here.”
The way Barbara said it, it sounded as if Eve had no other interests and her life work was cooking. “Some,” Eve said. “I enjoy it. Along with gardening and working at the art gallery.”
“You work?” Barbara asked with a raised brow.
“Yes. I have a degree in art history.”
“I see. So you’re the creative type.”
Again, it sounded more like an insult than a compliment and Eve wondered how Barbara and Larry would get along together, although she didn’t think Barbara’s cattiness came from insecurity. Eve would bet she was just trying to make some kind of point with Hunter.
Eve’s upbringing and a desire to show Hunter she could be gracious led her to ask, “Would you like to stay for supper?”
“What a lovely idea. But I can’t. I have another meeting tonight. Hunter knows all about those. We went to almost ten last night, didn’t we?”
So Hunter’s meeting had been with Barbara last night?
Eve had the most ridiculous desire to throw the strawberry pie straight at the woman, but she never had been a woman of impulse. Propriety usually led her to say and do the right thing. There were books of wallpaper samples lying on the floor of the room that was going to be the nursery. Eve wondered if Hunter had told Barbara they were expecting.
“It’s really a shame you can’t stay for supper,” Eve remarked, sure she could manage to spill something on Barbara in the course of a meal. Her father had always told her to get to know her enemies. And though she’d never had any, Barbara sure fit the bill.
The blonde took a quick glance at her watch. “I’d better get going.” She laid her hand familiarly on Hunter’s elbow. “Thanks so much for the tour.”
“I’ll walk you out,” he said.
Temptation almost convinced Eve to peek into the foyer while they said goodbye, but she didn’t. Instead she took the roast out of the oven and made a lot of noise doing it.
A few minutes later, Hunter came back to the kitchen and, with arms crossed, leaned against the doorjamb, watching Eve as she transferred the roast to a platter and took the electric knife from a drawer.
“That was unexpected,” he said.
“Was it?” She couldn’t keep the pique out of her question.
“Say what you have to say, Eve.”
“You invited her here.”
He gave a sort of half shrug. “It wasn’t exactly an invitation. We were making conversation last night, and I told her about the house.”
“And you asked her to come over?”
“She said she’d like to see it sometime, and I told her to stop by. But I really didn’t expect her to.”
“Then you must have your head buried in the sand,” Eve muttered.
Uncrossing his arms, Hunter pushed away from the doorjamb, came over to the counter and stood very close to her. “And that means?”
The masculine power that emanated from Hunter had once intimidated Eve. Now, instead, it intrigued her and excited her and at the moment made her angry. “That means she wants to take up wherever the two of you left off.”
“There was nothing there to continue.” His voice was even and patient, as if he were explaining to a child.
His tone added fuel to her simmering anger. “Sex means something different to most women than it does to men. Maybe she expected more than a good time.”
“She knew the score, and I certainly never made any promises.”
“She’s the type of woman who doesn’t give up easily,” Eve insisted. “She still wants you.”
“I’m married to you now,” he responded soberly.
His answer wasn’t enough. She wanted more, and she pushed for it. “Did you tell her I’m expecting?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
When he moved even closer to her, she found her back against the counter. “Are you accusing me of something?” he asked.
“Are you still attracted to her?” Eve countered, not backing down.
“I told you before. She’s my client now, Eve. That’s all she is.”
“Your other clients don’t turn up at our home at suppertime,” Eve flared, not at all satisfied, needing to know just how important she was to her husband.
“Why does that bother you so?” he asked, his expression undecipherable.
She couldn’t keep the truth sugarcoated. “Because I don’t appreciate having your former girlfriends parade through our home.”
Blowing out an exasperated breath, he leaned away. “What did you want me to do? I didn’t want to be rude. You’re making too much of this. You can’t get uptight every time I run into somebody I dated.”
She could have screamed with frus
tration at not being able to break through his barriers, at not being able to find out what he really felt about her. “Just how many women have you dated, Hunter? Will I be running into one every few months, or maybe every few weeks?”
“Are you asking me how many women I’ve slept with since you?”
Faced with that blunt question, she felt her throat tighten with quick tears, and she shook her head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
Instead of towering over her, he braced a hand on either side of her against the counter. “Maybe I want to know how many men you’ve slept with.” The deep blue of his eyes told her he wouldn’t back down from this, and that this moment could be an important one in their marriage.
“There haven’t been any other men. Only you.”
He looked startled. “You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes. The same way you expect me to believe that you weren’t involved with anyone after you left Savannah.”
The silence in the kitchen was so loud it vibrated.
Abruptly Hunter stepped back. “We’d better eat before supper gets cold.”
The companionship and connection she’d felt with him the past few days dissolved. Their past had sprung up between them again.
Eve wasn’t the least bit hungry. Barbara’s visit had unsettled her, and it was obvious that her answer to Hunter’s question wasn’t one he could believe. Supper was awkward, and after a few stilted attempts at conversation, they gave up trying.
Hunter glanced over at his wife often throughout the meal. He’d been surprised by her reaction to Barbara.
Last night, during their meeting, his client had let him know in very subtle ways that she was available if he still wanted to see her. Apparently she didn’t give marriage vows a lot of weight. But he did. He’d seen his mom and dad’s marriage and what it had meant to them both. There had never been any doubt of fidelity or commitment.
When Eve had begun questioning him, he’d felt defensive—as if he had to try to justify putting her out of his life five years ago, trying to get her out of his mind. He’d never expected her response to his question, and he still didn’t know if he believed it. She was a beautiful woman with so much passion to give. Had she really bottled that up? Turned inward? Had the miscarriage affected her that much?
Just the Husband She Chose Page 12
