“Then don’t. And I shouldn’t have to tell you that we all enjoyed that. It was the highlight of the night. Just saying.”
She shook her head wearily. “It’s in my nature to second-guess things. It’s just the way I was raised.” She opened her eyes and glanced over at him, her eyes slightly unfocused. “I’m not sure I’ve ever told you this story, but the very first time I even thought of a swear word, I was certain I was going to be struck down by the Almighty Himself. I stood there like a dummy on the sidewalk, staring at my mother’s antique crystal goblet—the one I was forbidden to drink my iced tea from—which had just shattered because I’d dropped it.” She shook her head. “But I waited right there for a good half hour for God to do His deed before I began to gather up the pieces. Then I had to go in and confess my sin to my mother. I’m not sure which punishment I dreaded worse. She grounded me for two weeks and made me drink my afternoon tea out of a baby cup for the rest of the month. I believe I was eight years old. So when I tell you that I will not obsess about what happened tonight, that’s a lie. But I can promise you that I will try not to feel guilty about it for too long. I know what we did was consensual. I will keep that in the forefront of my mind, all while I try to convince myself the devil doesn’t live in my nonexistent underpants.”
Jace turned down their street, his heart aching for his beautiful wife. He’d had no such upbringing or hang-ups. His parents had gone to church, but they’d never brought church home. There was a big difference. He was the person he was today because of his past, and Caroline was the person she was. He loved her even more so because of all the mountains she’d had to scale in order to be vulnerable.
“Sweetheart, I’m here if you need me. I can be your sounding board.” He slid his hand over and placed it on her thigh. “Never forget that for a second. We’re in this together. Your guilt is my guilt.” He pulled into their driveway and hit the garage door opener. It rose, and he eased the SUV into its spot.
Once the car was off, he reached over and caressed her neck as she reached down to gather up her shoes and purse. Once she had them in hand, she turned toward him, giving him a shaky smile. “Can you promise me one thing?”
“Of course, anything,” he said as he opened his door and walked around to help her out.
He pulled her door open, and she took his hand. “I need a break from all of this for a while,” she told him as she stepped out of the car. “My brain needs to clear, and we need to figure out what we want with no outside distractions.”
“Agreed.”
Caroline was a little wobbly as she descended, so he decided to pick her up.
As he swept her into his arms, she laughed. “What are you doing?” She rested her head against his chest. “I’m too heavy and you’re crazy.”
“I’m your knight in shining armor tonight.”
“You’ve been my knight every day since the moment I met you.” She snuggled into his chest. “You are my most perfect prince.”
12
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“Is keeping this really necessary, Caroline? It’s so vulgar.” Caroline glanced over at her mother, who was hovering over an open drawer in the pantry, her current favorite spot to nitpick.
This was the fifth time she had announced it was time to “straighten out” the house, which was code for I’m going to throw all your Yankee stuff away.
It was something her mother did every time she visited.
Some things never changed.
Caroline sighed. “Mama, that’s my spring tablecloth for the patio. Just leave it be.” She wasn’t about to tell her mother she adored the geometric print or that she rarely used anything to cover the table when they dined outside.
That would be scandalous and beside the point.
“But the colors are so brash.” Her mother shook her head. “And, it would be very distracting to eat off of, if you ask me. If you were to get rid of it, I could send you the nice lace one I have at home, handmade by Grandmother Bowman. I can put it in the mail straight-away.”
This was Genevieve Bowman’s typical technique. Offer to exchange something vulgar for a “nice antique” or something “hand-sewn.”
Her mother had arrived exactly thirteen days ago for her annual visit.
Their time together was almost finished, and Caroline could not wait. Ginny and Caroline’s father, Henry, made a trip to Madison once a year. Her mother usually came a week before Caroline’s father did, so the girls could spend some “quality time” together. But this year her father had had to cancel at the last minute. He was on a board of trustees at a large company back home, and they were going through some kind of important merger.
So it had been just her and her mother.
And Jace in the evenings and on weekends.
For two solid weeks.
But the blessed reunion was coming to a close tomorrow, and Caroline was at her wits’ end trying to keep her possessions from being tossed into the garbage or swapped out for something her mother deemed more appropriate.
Before Caroline could tell her mother she didn’t want the lace tablecloth and would prefer to keep the one she had, Jace strode into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” he said cheerfully as he made a beeline to his mother-in-law, giving her a proper peck on the cheek. Then he went directly to the coffeepot. “Did you sleep well, Mama?” he asked over his shoulder.
Caroline watched her mother straighten, shut the drawer she’d been snooping in, and walk back into the kitchen from their pantry alcove, her face beaming like it always did around Jason Stratton.
Even though he was a Yankee, he could do no wrong in her mother’s eyes.
If Genevieve knew what a pro Jace was at handling her, she’d be incensed. Ginny considered herself a master at judging another person’s character. She fashioned it as a hobby.
Jace wanted her out of the house even more than Caroline did, and Caroline had to choke back a giggle. Her husband complained nightly about her mother’s “odd late-night habits” and the fact that “she never sleeps” and “awakes at the sound of a pin dropping.” The poor man could go on and on.
Caroline had to bite her tongue.
“I slept very fine, thank you for asking,” Ginny Bowman replied in her heavy Southern drawl, then she tipped her head toward her daughter as if to say, Why didn’t you ask me the same thing?
Caroline sighed as she went back to making breakfast, which would consist of one soft-boiled egg, one piece of white toast with strawberry jam, and a cup of coffee served in her grandmother’s china with precisely one lump of sugar. It had to be a lump, not a spoonful, as there was no accurate way of gauging how much sugar was in a spoonful.
Ginny headed over to sit at the kitchen table—the very same table Jace had laid Caroline over not too terribly long ago—and began to complain about what she viewed as the biggest hiccup of her trip. “I still don’t understand why my regular bedroom is unavailable.” She managed to suppress her usual sniff. “But I guess it can’t be helped now anyway. I’ll be leaving tomorrow. The bed upstairs is firm, which is to my liking. However, the bathroom is subpar to the one on the lower level.”
“We already told you,” Caroline said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice, “the basement bedroom is being used for storage now. With my business expanding, we needed the extra space, and there’s nowhere else for all the boxes of stationery and paper samples to go. We’ll work on fixing up the spare bathroom upstairs in time for your visit next year.”
Caroline gave a silent prayer the year would be a slow one.
“Yes, I know. That’s what you told me,” her mother countered, “but why is it locked? I went down there yesterday to see if there was anything I could do to help you arrange things. I’m very good at that, you know. I bet there are many places in this house we could find to store your things other than taking over a perfectly good guest room. I peeked in the garage, and it’s teeming with s
pace. Honestly, Caroline, why would you take over an entire suite—with a spa bathroom—for your boxes?”
Caroline prepared to reply, girding her loins for battle, because there was no way her mother was getting into their sex room, but Jace’s hand caught her at mid-back as he passed by.
“Mama,” he said, moving toward the table, “honestly, it’s a mess down there. We’ve just been tossing things in there willy-nilly all year. We couldn’t subject you to that. Caroline is just embarrassed is all.” He pulled out a chair and sat by his mother-in-law, placing a hand over hers and giving it a pat. “She actually begged me to lock it up at the last minute. She didn’t want you to see our space so disorganized and cluttered.”
Once again, Caroline tried not to laugh.
Jace was laying on the Southern charm for her mother’s benefit, using Southern phrases.
Her mother started to interject, but Jace kept going. “But what I could really use some help with is cleaning out my office space. But only if you have time, of course. I wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your last day here cleaning for me.” Ginny began to try to answer again, but Jace held his hand up. “Your time here with us is so valuable and short, Mama. I wouldn’t want you to spend your last hours doing what I should’ve done a long time ago. I’m just stuck in that small back bedroom. I’ve been meaning to pack up those old magazines and subscriptions for a long time. I even brought home some boxes last week, but I just haven’t gotten around to it.”
Caroline turned to face the cupboards to keep her mother from seeing her expression. She reached up and grabbed three plates. Jace had brought those boxes home a few days ago. He’d been planning something like this all along, and she was grateful.
She just hoped her mother fell for it. Though there was little doubt Genevieve would take the bait. She was as bored as Caroline was after two solid weeks together.
Mother and daughter were not cut from the same Southern cloth.
“Of course I will help you, Jason. It will be my pleasure.” Ginny folded her hands in her lap as Caroline delivered her egg to the table.
“The toast is on its way, Mama,” Caroline said as she went to the fridge. “Anyone care for some OJ this morning?”
“None for me, thank you,” Ginny answered.
“I’ll take some,” Jace replied. “But I’m going to have to drink it on the road. An early meeting cropped up this morning and I have to take off soon.” He stood and made his way to the counter. “I just wanted to make sure I was able to spend a little time with you both before I left.”
“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Caroline asked. This was the first she’d heard of his meeting.
“No. I got a text from Roy fifteen minutes ago.” Roy was the main salesman at Jason’s company. “A problem with a major order came up, and we have to get it settled before the noontime deliveries.” He gave Caroline a kiss on the cheek. “Sorry, honey,” he whispered in her ear, and then turned toward Ginny. “Mama, I’ll carry the boxes up to my office before I go. If you have time, go for it. I trust your judgment in all organizational matters.”
“I will have it done by the time you get home,” Ginny answered. “And I know Caroline will be happy to help her husband as well. We’ll do it together.”
Caroline suppressed a groan. But it was better than fighting to keep her things for the rest of the day.
Jace shook his head, using his eyes to transmit the apology he clearly wished he could say out loud. “Don’t worry about it,” Caroline told him, smiling. “Go to work. Mama and I will have a good time organizing your office. After all, it’s our last day together and I want to do whatever she wants.” And she meant it. Having her mother happy and occupied was essential to her mental health.
Jace took his toast and juice to go, and Caroline brought the rest of her mother’s breakfast to the table and sat down.
“Aren’t you going to eat something?” Genevieve asked. “It’s not healthy to abstain from breakfast. The morning meal gives you a good foundation for the day and the added benefit of curbing your hunger. Now, skipping lunch is altogether different. I do miss that on occasion, especially if I’m trying to fit into that special outfit.”
Caroline had dutifully eaten breakfast with her mother each morning, but today she just wasn’t hungry. She’d awoken restless. She and Jace had managed to have a few quickies over the past two weeks, but Caroline was never in a sexy mood while her mother was visiting. Ginny Bowman sucked her feelings dry from the moment she walked through the door.
But now that her mama was on her way out, Caroline was starting to get antsy. She knew she was going to have to make up her mind about the Slaters and what to do next, and had been thinking about it nonstop. Jace had told her in no uncertain terms that their next move as a couple was totally and completely up to her.
“Caroline.” Her mother rapped her spoon against her saucer to get her attention. “What’s going on? Are you feeling all right?”
Caroline started. “I’m fine. Sorry. Just thinking about work.”
Her mother sniffed. “You know, there’s no need for you to work. Jason brings in enough money, and your trust hasn’t been touched in years, and your refusal to use it is bothersome. It could easily give you a monthly income. Your main job is to have children. Unless, of course, there’s something you’re not telling me.”
Her mother, ever the feminist.
“No, Mama. I’m not keeping secrets from you. We will have children eventually, but neither of us is ready now. And I like my job. It keeps my mind occupied, and you know I love my art. I have to have that in my life.” Caroline and Jace had gotten married right out of college, and they’d agreed from the get-go that they wouldn’t even think of having a family until they were into their thirties. They wanted to enjoy each other without distractions for as long as they could.
As for the trust, Caroline planned to use it for her children’s future, not her own. Her mother was right, she and Jace were comfortable and that was fine.
“You know, I always thought it was a mistake when you stopped doing those landscapes.” Her mother took a dainty spoonful of her egg. “They were distinguished. Madeline Parker even said she’d show some of them in her art gallery.”
“I know you do,” Caroline said. “But that wasn’t where my heart was.” Her mother was referring to her formal art training. Caroline had been enrolled in a conservative art school during the summers as a teen, where she’d learned how to paint a mean landscape, as well as a bowl full of fruit and flowers of all kinds. Very proper and very Southern.
“Oh, Caroline, the heart shouldn’t factor into these things. Practicality should be at the forefront when making these decisions.”
Caroline placed her chin in her palm and stared at her mother, who was in the process of stirring precisely one lump of sugar into her coffee. Her mother glanced up and started when she found her daughter watching her so intently. “What is it? Is something wrong? Do you have a fever?”
“No, I’m fine, Mama. I was just sitting here wondering where the heart factors in for you. Does it ever affect your decision making?” Caroline realized in that moment that likely every major decision her mother had ever made had come from a practicality standpoint, not from the heart. “Or do you base all your choices on what the world thinks is the right thing to do?”
“I don’t know what in the heavens you’re talking about. Are you sure you feel all right?”
Caroline realized her mother was never going to understand her point. “Never mind. May I ask you something else?”
“My, you’re in a strange mood today. Maybe you should go take a nap. I can take on Jason’s office by myself.”
“I’m feeling just fine. I just want to know if you’ve ever regretted anything in your life. You know, have you ever made a bad decision and wished later you could go back in time and change your mind? Or had guilty feelings for making the right choice for you, but the wrong choice for someone else? Or thrown in the towel when
you should’ve stuck it out?”
Her mother straightened in her seat. “Never. I have never regretted a single decision I’ve ever made. I take pride in leading my life with a clear head and balanced heart. But what has this got to do with anything?” She leaned forward, her face suddenly dropping. “Are you and Jason in trouble?”
The panicked look on her mother’s face was enough for Caroline to halt the conversation. She and her mother had never been close enough to share personal details with each other, which was something Caroline had definitely regretted as she’d gotten older, realizing what some women had with their mothers.
“No, Mama,” Caroline replied patiently. “Our marriage is strong as ever, and we are very happy. But I think I might have a way to make it even stronger, though it involves taking some risks.”
“Then you must. There is nothing more important than keeping your husband happy.” She said it with a passion that was somewhat rare for her. “If you don’t have family, you have nothing.”
Finally, something they could agree on. “You’re so right. Family is everything.”
In that instant, Caroline made up her mind about the Slaters.
She and Jace were going on an adventure.
13
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Jace’s dick was so hard he feared he wouldn’t make it home before he came.
He was stopped at a stoplight, on his way home from dropping his mother-in-law off at the airport, and visions of Caroline’s luscious breasts and thoughts of her hot wetness were threatening to undo him.
Every part of his body tingled in anticipation.
His beautiful wife had cornered him before he’d gone and had managed to get him riled up for the first time in what seemed like much too long. She’d told him she would have a surprise waiting for him and that she’d finally made a decision. Then she’d used some choice words to describe what she wanted to do to him. He was rock hard thinking about it.
What Caroline Wants Page 12
