A Heart Revealed (25 page)

But tonight she took no comfort in a cozy love nest that had become a silent war zone. She snatched her
Harper’s Bazaar
from the coffee table and swiped at its pages with mounting fury, seeing nothing but a mule of a husband who’d given her the silent treatment all week. The man had barely spoken to her since their fight over law school, except for a grunt before he left in the morning and even less when he lumbered in each night to sleep on the couch. Katie’s eyes narrowed as she eyed the pillow and a sheet neatly folded on the far side of the sofa, further indication that Luke McGee still harbored a grudge.

Her patience was as thin as the flimsy pages of her
Harper’s Bazaar
, which she now flipped so hard that one tore in half. Drawing in a cumbersome breath, she dropped the magazine to her lap and closed her eyes, willing her own grudges to calm. After all, she loved the pigheaded lout even if he was being completely unreasonable. And she
had
sprung an awful shock on him, she supposed, but was that any reason to become a deaf-mute to his wife? Katie sighed. She’d been wrong in not telling him—she knew that now, but she really had had no choice. Luke never would have agreed had he known, perhaps even rethinking his engagement to Katie, and she couldn’t risk that. So she’d laid low as the compliant fiancée until the band was on her finger, opting to deal with Luke’s stubborn streak head-on . . .
after
they were married.

Her lips squirmed to the right. A tactical error, evidently, given her husband’s reception, which closely resembled that of a rock wall. Katie had felt her own walls going up over Luke’s refusal to even discuss it, but she’d worked hard to do the right thing—to say no to her anger and yes to God. To forgive Luke and give him time to forgive her. She drew in a fortifying breath and tossed the magazine aside, refolding her arms as her gaze burned into the door at the end of the hall. Well, the rock wall had had seven days to be chipped away, and Katie was running out of the strength—and patience—to chisel. The time for silence was over—they needed to talk.

Now
.

Kit’s door opened, and Katie’s stomach rolled when Luke carefully closed it to just a crack, disappearing into their own room. She counted to ten a number of times, attempting to calm her temper as well as give Luke a few moments to do the same. But when he exited their room a few moments later in a change of clothes and a small duffle in his hands, she felt the blood siphon from her face.

Her rib cage contracted, cutting off her air. “You’re leaving again?” she asked, her voice strained despite her best efforts to remain calm. She glanced at the Victorian table clock that had been a wedding gift from Emma and swallowed hard.
Nine-thirty and he’s leaving again?
“You just got home, Luke—where are you going?”

He glanced up with sullen eyes, his shadowed jaw sculpted in stone. “Clancy’s,” he said in a clipped tone, then turned away to rifle through the duffle while her mouth sagged in shock.

“The gym? At this hour?” She stood to her feet, vaguely aware of a wobble in her legs.

Snapping the duffle closed, he looked up, his temple flickering as he pierced her with a shuttered gaze. “Yeah. Don’t wait up.”

He turned to go, and her heart caught in her throat. It took every shred of her will to keep her voice humble. “Luke, wait, please—can’t we talk before you go?”

A muscle tightened in his broad back while he stood at the door, head bowed and hand on the knob. “No. I’m not ready yet—I still have frustrations to vent.” He opened it to leave, and her humility died an ugly death.

With a harsh gasp, she flew across the room and slammed the door, blocking his way. “No need to duke it out at the gym, McGee,” she snapped. “I’ll give you a good fight right here.”

He jerked her aside. “Get out of my way, Katie, we’ll talk when I’m good and ready.”

“No,” she said, shoving him back, “we’re going to talk now.”

He leaned in, eyes flashing. “Get this straight, Katie Rose, and get it good—you don’t run this household and you don’t run my life.”

“Our life!” she hissed, tears pooling against her will. She battled the quiver of her lip with a thrust of her chin. “We’re one, whether you like it or not. In God’s eyes, if not in yours.”

“One flesh, Katie, but two wills. What you did . . . ,” he shook his head, eyes naked with pain and voice hard, “wounded me. You’re my wife, my family, the one I should trust . . .”

Her throat constricted. “You can trust me, Luke, I promise. I won’t ever do this again.”

Fatigue shadowed his features as he tightened his grip on his bag. “No, Katie, you won’t. Because if you do, you’ll jeopardize our marriage more than you know.” He opened the door. “We’ll talk later, when my anger’s under control, but for now, I’m leaving.”

“Well, that makes two of us then,” she whispered. “When you get back, Kit and I will be gone.” A sob rose in her throat as she ran down the hall, tears streaming. She heard the front door slam, but ignored it, hauling her suitcase from the bedroom closet and thrusting it on their bed. Hands shaking, she opened her dresser drawer and snatched an armful of clothes.

“What the devil are you doing?” he asked from the doorway, his tone taut.

She continued to pack.

He strode forward and hurled his duffel onto the floor, the sting of a curse sizzling the air. “I said, what are you doing, Katie?”

Yanking more clothes from the drawer, she flung them into the bag, facing him with fire in her eyes. “You refuse to talk? Fine. I refuse to stay. I won’t live in silence, Luke McGee, no matter how angry you are. We’ll stay at my parents’.” She turned away to retrieve her toiletries from her vanity.

“You’re not going anywhere—”

She spun around. “No? Well, to borrow a phrase—you don’t run my life.”

Jaw ground tight, he seized her suitcase and dumped it out before pitching it on the floor.

She stared, mouth gaping. “You’re a devil,” she rasped, voice straining low to avoid waking Kit.

Muscled arms to his hips, he gave her a thin smile. “Yeah? Well, you wouldn’t exactly make it past the pearly gates, you little brat.” He scooped up a skirt and tossed it at her. “Put your clothes away.”

He headed for the door, and she jerked the suitcase onto the bed once again to repack her clothes.

She singed him with a scathing look, her whisper harsh. “This isn’t the BCAS, you brainless Neanderthal—you can’t order me around.”

In two powerful strides he had her suitcase upended again and clothes toppled in another unsightly heap. He launched the bag on the bed. His voice was a threat edged with a hard smile. “Sure I can, Katie—I’m bigger than you. I suggest you put the clothes away—
now
.”

She reared up to kick him, but he was too fast and deflected her with an innocent parry that toppled her back on the bed. He slacked a leg, hands parked low on his hips. “You’re a handful, Katie Rose, but so help me, I will wear the pants in this family or die trying.”

Katie gritted her teeth, anger hissing through every syllable. “Now that’s the best idea you’ve had yet, you overgrown ape—croak away!” Her lip curled in a sneer that belied the tears in her eyes. “And you were going to make me the ‘happiest woman alive’—HA!”

———

Luke stared, his breathing as ragged as his wife’s as she lay, chest heaving and tears trailing her cheeks. Shame crawled up his neck with a heat that scalded his pride. He exhaled a halting breath, painfully aware that as a man of God and the spiritual head of his home, he had set a poor example. Yes, Katie had been wrong initially, but he wasn’t responsible for Katie’s heart, only his. And he had failed—both God and his wife—miserably.

Easing down on the bed with a weary sigh, he reached for her hand, feathering her wrists with his thumbs. His words were halting, hoarse, and difficult to say. “Katie, I’m . . . sorry . . . for giving in to my anger.”

“Sorry doesn’t change the fact that you’re a bully,” she said, practically spitting the words in his face.

He could smell the rose scent of her hair and a faint whiff of baby powder on her clothes, and all at once he was keenly aware just how much he had missed her. His gaze wandered from blue eyes glinting with ire, to pink, full lips, angry and parted with every heave of her breasts, and in a wild thud of his pulse, all anger dissipated as quickly as the air in his lungs. He swallowed hard, suddenly craving her so much, he thought he would lose his mind. “Katie, please—let’s not do this. I’ve missed you more than I can say.” Her eyes flared as he bent close, and the groan that escaped his throat was no more than a rasp when his mouth tasted hers.

She bucked like a rodeo filly that’d never been ridden. “Oh, no you don’t, McGee,” she hissed, thrashing her head side to side. “You are not going to sweet-talk me now—”

He silenced her with a kiss that nearly consumed him, and his breathing was heavy when his mouth slid to suckle her ear. “Come on, Katie,” he whispered, “let’s kiss and make up . . .”

“Not on your li—”

Slipping his hands to her waist, he pulled her close with another kiss that reminded him just how much he needed her in his life . . . wanted her. His lips trailed her throat while blood pounded through his veins. “Look, Katie, I told you I was sorry . . . and I need you, Sass . . .”

Two petite palms slammed hard against his chest, holding him at bay with a voice that threatened despite the glaze in her eyes. “Hold your horses right there, buster! There’ll be no needs ‘met’ until we talk.” She wrenched free and shimmied to the far side of the bed, back butted hard against the headboard and palms splayed as if ready to bolt.

“Okay, Sass,” he said with a tight smile, “you’re the boss.” He moved to sit beside her and rested a palm on her thigh, gaze focused on hers as his thumb slowly circled.

She smacked his hand. “Do we have to take this to the kitchen? Focus!”

“I am,” he said, arm draped casually over the headboard. His gaze slid to her mouth.

Huffing out a sigh, she pinched finger and thumb to his jaw and thrust up, her brows arched in expectation. “On my
eyes
, McGee, not my mouth. We have serious issues to discuss.”

Luke sucked in a deep breath and blew it out again. He folded his arms and fixed his gaze on Katie’s, his manner suddenly serious. “Okay, you’re right—we do have a lot of air to clear. So why don’t you start by telling me why you would keep something this important to yourself?”

The sparks in her eyes tempered while she inched sideways to face him. Her chin elevated just a smidge before she glanced away, picking at the nubby rose motif of the quilt her mother had made. He studied her as she focused on the coverlet rather than his face, and although her voice carried the strength of recent fury, she chewed on her lip, betraying her guilt.

“I shouldn’t have done it, Luke, I can see that now and I’m sorry.” She glanced up, eyes holding a residue of anger. “But this week has certainly been proof as to how . . . unreasonable you can be.”

He jagged a brow. “Unreasonable? That my wife excludes me from a life decision that affects us all?”

A lump shifted in her throat despite the further lift of her chin. “Yes, because when you are bent on a certain course of action, Luke McGee, you can be quite the brick wall, and I was afraid that if I told you . . . ,” a faint shiver rippled her body, “well, that you might postpone the wedding or even . . . ,” she peeked up, teeth tugging her lip, “not marry me at all.”

His heart melted as always when Katie let her vulnerable side show, and he tugged her into his arms, closing his eyes as he pressed his lips to her hair. “I could never
not
marry you, Katie, don’t you know that? You and Kit are the family I’ve waited for my whole life.” He pulled away to lift her chin with his thumb, his voice husky with emotion. “Loving you, marrying you . . . has been like finally coming home.”

Tears pooled in her eyes and she fell into his arms with a hoarse cry. “Oh, Luke, I love you too, and I am so sorry for not telling you, but I was afraid. Law school has been a dream of mine for so long and yet I know it interferes with your dream of a family.”

Exhaling a heavy breath, he kneaded her back with a gentle palm. “It does present a dilemma, no question about that—Lizzie having Kit five days a week and then losing you at the BCAS.” He held her away with a wry smile. “Nor am I thrilled that Parker will be funding your dream instead of me. But . . . ,” he cupped her face in his hands, “if this is important enough that you quake in your boots at the prospect of me saying no, then I guess it should be important enough for me to say yes.” His lips skewed to the right. “And I did promise to make you the happiest woman alive, so I guess my goose is cooked.”

“Oh, Luke!” She thrust herself back into his arms. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

He held her at bay with a firm grip. “Not so fast, Sass—there are conditions.”

A smile nudged the edge of her lips as she feathered his arms with her thumbs, giving him a lidded gaze that focused only on his mouth. “To make you the happiest man alive?”

His throat suddenly went dry, and he tightened his hold. “No, Katie, I want your promise that you’ll never keep secrets from me again when it’s something I should know.”

She nodded, exhaling a slow breath.

“And that we will discuss and pray about
everything
,” he said with a stroke of her hair.

“Of course, Luke, whatever you say.”

“
And
,” he said with finality in his tone, quite sure his last condition would not be to her liking. His eyes locked on hers. “If you get pregnant at any time during law school, you will quit and stay home, no questions asked.”

“Forever?” Her eyes gaped as wide as her mouth.

He softened his hold, resorting to thumb feathering of his own. “Just until the kids are in school and Kit’s old enough to watch them. Say sixteen? Then, we’ll see what we can do.”

She tilted her head. “You promise?”

He leaned in. “Absolutely,” he said with a slow nibble of her ear. “That way we both keep our dreams, but it’s God who makes the decision.”