Secrets Gone South (Crimson Romance) (13 page)

She nodded. “I can’t deny it. I can’t deny that I blame you.”

He shook his head. “No matter what, it’s done. I’m sorry. But we’re married now and we’ve got our amazing boy. I’m ready to put this behind us and move forward. Starting now.”

Before she had time to think, he took her in his arms and she went back in time—back to the night when she was so heartbroken and confused and his arms had felt like the safest place in the universe. She loved the way he held her cheek when he kissed her—and kissed her, and kissed her …

A million shooting stars went through her and she wasn’t in the past anymore. She was in the present with the man she’d made a child with and she knew as long as she lived there would never be a connection stronger than that.

She lost all sense of time and space and anything except his hard body against hers and the desire coursing through her. And there was something else too, something unfamiliar to her that she instinctively understood to be older than time.

She could love this man.

“Damned toy couch,” he muttered in her ear. “Damned dinner on its way. And I didn’t think there was anything not to like about this place.”

This place.
Something was wrong and she knew what. He didn’t want her, didn’t want to make love to her. He wanted to make love in this place, this perfect Will Garrett fantasyland. It wouldn’t have mattered who he was with. He even liked her flannel gown because it fit with the place.

She pushed him away.

“Will, I cannot.”

He hesitated but unhanded her and nodded. “I guess I understand that. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it either, even earlier today. But then we got here.” He gestured to the surroundings. “And it just seemed right. But it has to be right for both of us.”

She nodded. It was never going to be right.

He laughed a little. “I can’t say I’m happy about it, but we’ll get there. I won’t push you.”

“Thank you,” she said but she didn’t feel thankful. He wasn’t even going to fight for her, wasn’t going to try to seduce her, convince her she was wrong.

“It’s fine. We’ll have some dinner and go to bed early. It’s been a long day. It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

“I can sleep on this toy couch.”

“Nonsense. We’re married. We’ll share the bed. I will respect your wishes.”

It would have been nice if he could have pretended that lying next to her would be a temptation too great to resist.

Happy wedding night.

He put another log on the fire.

Where had he gone wrong? Will pondered that the entire trip back to Merritt—not to mention all night. He’d gotten precious little sleep. Every time he started to drift off, Arabelle had moved against him and he’d been right back at square one—aroused with no respite in sight.

A man could only take so much.

He’d thought things were going pretty well. He might still have some issues to work out but he didn’t feel so angry anymore. That was a good feeling, like having his real self back. He had not liked the mean things that had come out of his mouth, almost of their own accord, didn’t like knowing he was capable of being so hateful. For certain, living with hostility would not be good for Avery. He knew about that first hand.

And he had been sure they were making progress. At first, Arabelle had seemed baffled at his change of attitude, but she’d begun to warm up. And she had certainly been hot in his arms, brief though it had been. Then nothing.

They had chatted little over dinner and even less since. As soon as they’d gotten on the road for home, she’d put her head back and closed her eyes, though he suspected she was only pretending to sleep. He’d stopped at Cracker Barrel for takeout coffee but she hadn’t touched hers.

But everything would work out. It might take time, but that was fine. He was a tolerant, patient man. His hand was on the mend and Arabelle had said he could get back to work next week. Soon, they would all be settled in his house in the woods. That would help. He would continue to hold on to his true disposition and she would come around. They would put together the family that Avery deserved and they needed.

He was behind on his obligations and wouldn’t have a lot of time to work on a personal project but he was going to build Avery a “big boy” bed. He didn’t know much about such things but he seemed to be getting a little old for a crib. Maybe he and Arabelle could plan a new room for him together. Yes. That was a great idea—a shared project about something they both cared about.

“Arabelle,” he said quietly. “We’re almost home.”

She raised her head and opened her eyes. “I want to go get Avery.”

So did he. “We’ll go straight to the farm. This is what I thought: after we pick up Avery, you can drop me at my house. I’ll get my truck and meet you back at your place. After being away from Avery, I don’t think we want to spend the rest of the day packing but we can move what the two of you need to get through a day or two. We’ll get the rest later in the week.”

He couldn’t wait to see some life in that house—toys on the floor, sippy cups in the sink, and all those little feminine perfumes and potions scattered in the bathroom. He wouldn’t even mind the mess, if there was one. Arabelle seemed to be pretty neat, but that had to come off the tracks sometimes. Maybe he’d cook dinner tonight over the fireplace—grilled vegetables and some kind of meat for Avery and Arabelle. He had been so intent on having a grill in the fireplace and he’d never used it once. He’d get them some marshmallows, too. Maybe they could all sit on the rug in front of the fire and after Avery got sleepy he could hold him while Arabelle read him a story. Then they could all go to sleep in the bed where Avery had been conceived, with him between them. Not that they would make a habit of that. Tomorrow he would disassemble the crib and bring it out but for tonight, they could all sleep together. “Would you like steak or chicken for dinner? I’ll run by the store while you get your things together.”

A moment passed and she almost smiled at him. “There’s no need to pack anything. I’m not moving.”

“What did you say?” Surely he had not heard her correctly. Still a column of cold shot though his gut. He pulled the car to the side of the road.

“I am not moving to the woods. I never said I would.”

“That makes no sense.”

“It makes plenty of sense. I have moved Avery three times in the past few months. I am not moving him again. As things are now, he doesn’t even have to go outside to go to the sitter. Where we are now is walking distance from almost everywhere I need to go.” She gave him a hard look. “I am not moving.”

He got the feeling she was enjoying serving up this news to him—news that she knew he would find upsetting.

“Arabelle, you cannot be serious. We would be on top of each other in that little place and I have all the room in the world.”

“I guess you should have put that on your list of demands for this marriage. You didn’t. I have a very clear memory of what I agreed to. Should I repeat your demands back to you?”

Tolerance and patience exited left and died in the wings. And he was glad to see them go. This woman didn’t deserve either one.

“So you expect me to move to town? Away from my house? Away from my shop?” Away from his woods?

“I expect it if you want to live with Avery as much as you claim. Wasn’t that the whole point of this marriage?”

There was so much sarcasm in her voice that he almost got the idea she wanted him to admit he wanted to live with her. It might be true but he’d cut out his tongue before he’d say it, because the anger had returned in full force. And the hell of it was, she knew he wouldn’t refuse. She knew how much he wanted this. She might not know all his reasons but he’d made no secret of how determined he was.

So there was nothing to say.

He pulled the car back on the road and drove toward the Avery farm and his boy.

Arabelle put her head back and closed her eyes.

Arabelle wanted to bang her head against a wall—if there had been a wall in her car, which there was not. Why had she done that? True, they had never discussed where they would live, but it made sense—for all the reasons he’d given—to live in Will’s house. Truth be told, that’s how she had envisioned it, if she had envisioned anything. She hadn’t even known she was going to say that. But she was feeling robbed of a real wedding night, a real marriage, and any hope of love. And he’d been sitting there so smug about what was going to happen. So she had drawn a line in the sand and now she had to stand behind it.

He was mad now. Or maybe hurt. Who could tell? Either way, he hadn’t looked at her or spoken a word. Maybe he wouldn’t even move in with them. People would ask questions about why they were living apart. She could just hear Luke now. “You were in such an all fired hurry to get married and now you aren’t even living together!” Maybe no one would notice for a while.

Will pulled the car into the circle drive in front of the farmhouse.

Maybe she would apologize. Maybe she would tell him she would move to the woods after all. There was a lot to recommend it—the space, the beauty, the solitude. What did it matter if she had to bring Avery to Heavenly Confections every day before work? She was an early riser. And Will would help. Of all that was wrong with this situation, that much was right.

She opened her mouth.

Before she could utter a word, he cut the engine and swung his eyes to meet hers. Those eyes didn’t look so much like warm velvety moss now as cold glinting jade. Her shields went up.

“Game face, Arabelle,” he said. “Dislike me all you want but game face. Don’t forget it.”

“Did anyone ever tell you your eyes are the color of moldy bread?”

“All the time,” he said as he turned away from her to open the car door. “Crowned heads from small island countries email me daily to tell me that information.”

Then he was out, headed to her side of the car before she could reply. She hurried to get out before he had a chance to open her door.

“We go to the back door,” Arabelle said as Will headed up the front steps.

“Lead on,” he said. “Just be cheerful about it.”

Arabelle crossed the screened-in porch to the back door. Since this house had become Lanie’s home, Arabelle never knew quite what to do about entering. Time was, she would have just gone in. That didn’t seem right now but neither did ringing the bell of the house that had been her home. She compromised by rapping sharply before opening the door.

“Anyone home?” she called. The kitchen was empty but clearly a meal had been cooked here recently. The various dirty pots and pans sat on the counter and there was a cooling peach cobbler on the range top. Great. They had come at lunchtime.

“I didn’t realize it was so early,” she said.

“When did you think we were going to get back?” Will asked. “You insisted on having our breakfast delivered at seven o’clock.”

She had. If you weren’t going to have sex, there wasn’t anything to do in that tree house except throw logs on the fire, and she’d had enough of that.

It was beyond bizarre to see Luke and Lanie at the head and foot of the dining room table, with her parents sitting across from each other.

But this was Lanie’s table now, Lanie’s house. Gail Avery had been clear on that. They all chattered and laughed; Gail was cutting up Emma’s meat while Luke fed John Luke and Lanie fed Avery.

“Mama!” Avery noticed them first and Arabelle took a little mean pleasure in that he called out for her first. But the mean feeling didn’t last. How could it when he was smiling and reaching for her?

And suddenly, they were all on their feet, hugging, back patting, and carrying on like they hadn’t seen each other in twenty years.

The laughter and welcomes faded to the background as Arabelle fought her way through her family and lifted Avery from the high chair. Clearly, Grandma had been shopping. Avery and John Luke were wearing matching blue smocked shortalls and Emma had the companion dress.

“I missed you!” She covered his cheeks with kisses and reached to smooth his hair—just as Will bent to kiss his head. The kiss landed on her hand like a lighting bolt, or maybe a snakebite. She wondered if he’d felt it too. Their heads jerked up and their eyes locked. Oh, yeah. He’d felt it.

Oblivious, Lanie closed in. “Sit down. We just started. I’ll get more plates.”

“We already ate,” Arabelle said. She wanted out.

Unfortunately, at the same time, Will said, “Thanks! I’m starving.”

The room went silent.

“Uh, we ate breakfast,” Arabelle said, shifting Avery to her hip.

Will smiled and nodded. “It only seems to you like we just ate because you slept all the way back.”

So he saved her from a lie.

Lanie met her eyes and winked. She might as well have said, “So you didn’t get much sleep last night, huh?” But she didn’t, of course. “I’ll just get some plates.”

“Aunt Belle! Aunt Belle!” Emma pulled on her sweater. “What did you bring?”

Bring? Damn. It was a fair question. She always brought Emma a present. She had a five in her purse … Maybe that would do.

“Emma!” Luke knelt down and took Emma by the shoulders. “We’ve talked about this, honeybee.”

Will stroked Emma’s head. “Aunt Belle did bring you something. We forgot it in the car. What do you say, you eat your lunch and then I’ll go get it?”

Saved again. He must have bought it at Cracker Barrel when he’d stopped for coffee.

Finally, they were all settled at the table again, with Will waxing eloquent about the tree house and everyone telling wedding stories. They didn’t even notice that Arabelle had little to say. Gail and Lanie were too busy fetching cheese for Will and making sure he had enough vegetables. Gail even offered to make him an omelet—which resulted in much laughter from Luke and the senator.

“And just when have you ever made an omelet?” Sanders Avery asked. “Ever? I’d like to remind you Susie hasn’t come back from church and lunch with her friends so she can’t save you.”

More laughter. Gail just shrugged.

Arabelle wanted Avery to sit on her lap while she finished feeding him, but he kept trying to get down, get in Will’s lap, get on the table, and then go back to Arabelle.