Amanda fished through her bag for what Pace assumed would be a tissue, the same bag Pace had admired in a paparazzi photo of a celebrity in People, and handed her a business card. “Here.” She picked up her fork.
“What’s this?” The card said Raymond T. Falcon, LMFT, with an in-town address.
“Dr. Falcon was our counselor.”
“You think we need a marriage counselor?”
“You don’t?”
Of course they did, she just couldn’t imagine Jason’s reaction if she suggested it. “What’s he like?”
“Mid-thirties, kinda cute if you like the academic type, although to my great disappointment, he never wore a cardigan or a sweater vest.” She shook her head at the waiter as he took their plates and asked if they’d like anything else. “You’re at an impasse, Pace. He doesn’t believe you and you’re pissed and beginning to question him. It’s a nasty cycle. Dr. Falcon can help you.”
Marriage therapy? It was the last thing she expected Amanda to suggest and yet it made perfect sense. She knew they couldn’t stay in the weird limbo they were in forever and if they didn’t do something soon, she feared they were headed for divorce.
* * *
When Jason phoned home one afternoon to ask Pace if she’d called a plumber about the leaky bathroom shower, she didn’t answer. His imagination immediately jumped to thoughts of her with another man—in their home, in their bed, in a seedy hotel room, in her car behind an abandoned warehouse. He’d never been the jealous type, well…not really and certainly not lately, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her cheating on him.
At least Dillon had basketball practice that night so he didn’t have to slink around the house feeling guilty. Pace had started hovering around him, watching him at dinner, and she seemed unusually disappointed when he went downstairs to his office to work after dinner instead of dealing with their marriage. He couldn’t face the expectant look she gave him when he came home each night from work and couldn’t face her disappointment when he busied himself with work or chores until she gave in and went to bed.
Dillon had eaten by the time he got home and Pace had made him a sandwich to take to practice. She’d grown up dining in the best restaurants in the city and now she made sandwiches for her family. Jason couldn’t help but wonder if she felt unhappy with their life and the little luxury he managed to provide.
After practice he sent Dillon to shower and went upstairs in the quiet house. Mitchell had already gone to bed. He could see the neon green from his nightlight glowing under his closed door. When Jason peeked inside, he found him sound asleep with the teddy bear his aunt had sent at his birth tucked under his chin. Jason pulled the covers over him where he’d kicked them off and ran a hand over the cowlick on his forehead. When Mitchell’s hand twitched, Jason imagined his youngest son dreaming about building a Lego fortress or chasing after Cooper.
He crept out of Mitchell’s room, closed the door behind him, and went into his darkened bedroom. He found Pace in the tub when he went in to use the bathroom. He’d assumed she’d gone to bed and was surprised to see her. She’d pulled her hair up and the heat from the water had turned her face pink with color. His eyes were drawn to the swell of her breasts above the water line and he fought the urge to strip down and join her.
“Oh!” Her head snapped up when he opened the door. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
Obviously, or maybe she’d deliberately tried to make him suffer. He dismissed the thought immediately. Pace didn’t have a devious bone in her body and she’d never understood his powerful need for her. He turned to leave before he did or said something he’d regret, but not before she called his name. He didn’t turn around, he couldn’t, but stood at the threshold staring into their bedroom and listening as drops of water fell from her body as she wiggled in the tub.
“Where’s Dillon?” she asked.
“He’s in the shower. I’ll put him to bed.”
“We need to talk, Jason,” she said. “After he’s asleep, we need to talk.”
He sat on the couch in the den, flicking one by one through the television channels when Pace came downstairs wearing her flannel pajamas and tank top. His stomach cramped as she eased onto the arm of the couch. Did she intend to confess?
“Jason.” When she touched his arm, the heat from her skin went straight through him. He hit the power button on the remote and plunged the room into silence. He pretended to be annoyed, but he couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say.
“I had lunch with Amanda today.”
Lunch with her man-hating former boss couldn’t lead to anything good.
“She’s getting married.”
It took him a minute to process what she’d said and when he met her eyes he knew they were both thinking the same thought. “Amanda’s already married,” he said. “To her career.”
When she smiled down at him, it felt like someone had reached inside his chest and twisted his heart in their fist. He wanted his wife back so badly it hurt.
“I know. She completely floored me, too.” She ran her hands through the damp ends of her hair, then clamped them together in her lap. “She said her and her fiancé saw a marriage counselor and she gave me his card.”
Son of a bitch. “You told Amanda.”
“I didn’t mean to, but she could tell I was upset about something and it just came out.”
If Pace had been looking for someone who’d encourage her behavior, she’d picked the right person. “A counselor?” The idea of it made him want to puke. “Why? So we can argue with each other for a hundred bucks an hour?”
“So we can talk about our situation with someone objective, who might be able to help us get past this…this place we’re in right now.” She reached for his arm again and he could tell she planned to put on the full court press. “We can’t go on like this forever, Jas. I’m not happy, you’re not happy, the kids are going to catch on pretty soon.” She let her hand fall and straightened her shoulders, causing the tank to stretch across her breasts. “If this guy can help us, I’m willing to try.”
Shit. If he said no, he’d look like a complete jackass…But counseling? He remembered Adam saying he’d refused counseling and now he was trying to steal his wife away from her new husband.
He stared at the darkened television and tried to imagine talking to some stranger about their problems. Pace started stroking her hand down the arm of his sweatshirt, up and down, up and down, like he’d seen her do with Cooper to calm him down. Except her touch had the opposite reaction. When he turned to look at her, she smiled and raised her brows pleadingly. Jason lifted her hand from his arm and linked their fingers. That simple connection caused her smile to fade and even in the muted light he could see the shock in her eyes. Before he even knew how it happened, Pace slithered into his lap and they were kissing as if not to do so would be the end of them both.
She snaked her hands under his sweatshirt and raked her nails down his back, pulsing against him. He lifted her tank and drew her nipple into his mouth, eliciting a gasping moan that snapped his control. He couldn’t get close enough, touch enough of her skin, draw her clothes away and plunge inside of her fast enough. Her frantic movements told Jason she felt as eager as he did and only incited his need further. He flipped her onto her back and yanked her pants to her knees.
She put the palms of her hands on his chest and pushed him back. “Jason, wait.”
“No, no, no, baby, I can’t wait.” Christ, he was begging her, fumbling with the button on his jeans. Why did she just lay there? Couldn’t she help him? Couldn’t she see the way his hands shook?
“Jason.” The sound of her voice, the harsh way she said his name, had him sitting back on his heels.
“What?”
She propped up on her elbows, shook the damp hair out of her face. Her naked chest taunted him as she tried to catch her breath. “Does this mean you believe me?”
Fuck. What the hell did he say to that? Yes meant he had no
more doubts and he could fuck her until neither one of them remembered what the hell they’d fought about. No would be more truthful, since he still wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but that would end this—.
“That’s what I thought.” She sat up and pushed him away.
“Pace, wait.”
She tried to get up, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back down on the couch.
“No, you wait. I love you, Jason, and I’ve never slept with another man or wanted to sleep with another man since the day we met. If you don’t believe that, or me, I think we need to see the counselor.”
Christ. He walked right into that one. He tugged his shirt back down as Pace stood to pull her pants up and jerk her arms back into her tank. “This isn’t a question of love, Pace. You know I love you.”
“But you don’t believe me?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s that I can’t forget that you were pregnant.”
“Jason, I wasn’t pregnant. I believe that with all my heart.”
“You think the doctor’s lying?”
“I think he made a mistake,” she said. “I think the lab made a mistake.”
“That’s an awful lot of mistakes.”
She looked at him, her eyes narrow, her skin still flushed from his touch. “You’re making a bigger one, Jason, if you think I’d cheat on you.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I can’t live like this.” She threw her arms into the air. “I can’t be with you until you believe me or figure out how to get past your insecurity.”
He nearly jumped out of his skin. “My insecurity!”
“Do you really think I’d let another man touch me, Jason?” She pointed down at the couch where one of the cushions had fallen onto the floor. “After what just happened, do you really think I would?”
“I sure as hell hope not because I’d kill him.”
She took a deep breath and let her shoulders sag. “What if Dr. Falcon can help us?” She righted the couch, sat down, and pulled him down next to her, reached for his hand. He wanted her so badly he vibrated with need. “Will you please give this a try? Please?”
He couldn’t say no, not when he could still taste her on his tongue. Damn it, he couldn’t catch a break. “Fine.” He pulled his hand away and reached for the remote. “Whatever.” He shrugged and turned the TV back on. Pace stood up, sighed, and passed in front of him on her way up the stairs.
Shit. He should have just said yes.
Chapter 13
Dr. Falcon’s office was located in Midtown, in a cluster of office condos off Peachtree Street, a good forty minutes from home, not including traffic. Jason could make it in ten from his office, but Pace would be lucky to make it home in time to get the kids off the bus. He’d hit the nail on the head regarding the doctor’s hourly wage. If therapy didn’t work, they could probably buy a car for what they might spend.
Pace had waited in the small reception area for ten minutes before Jason walked in. He left for work most mornings before Pace got up and the sight of him in his charcoal suit, so handsome, even with the scowl on his face, had her longing. Their groping encounter on the couch nights ago had only made things worse. As soon as the kids went to bed, they avoided one another as much as possible.
He’d gotten a haircut earlier in the day and when he sat in the chair beside her, Pace could see little clips of hair on his collar. She thought back to the day he first met her parents. When she’d opened the door to him at her apartment, she’d nearly fallen over with surprise.
“You cut your hair.” She’d reached out to touch his newly shorn locks. She could no longer twist her fingers around the ends. “Why?”
He’d shrugged uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to meet your parents looking like a shaggy dog.” He’d looked nervous and it made her worry about her mother pouncing on him when they arrived. Her parents had already asked about Jason’s family. Neither of them had ever heard of his hometown.
Later that night, when they made love in his apartment back in Athens, when she ran her fingers over his head, she felt like she was with a stranger. “I feel like I’m cheating on my boyfriend.” They’d both laughed. They sure weren’t laughing now.
“How long have you been waiting?” he asked as they filled out paperwork on clip boards.
Pace tried to catch a glimpse of what he wrote. “Not long.”
“I’ve got a conference call at three, so I can’t be here forever.”
Only a few minutes after they’d returned their paperwork to the receptionist, Dr. Falcon greeted them and led them to his office. It was pretty sparse, with a desk, two chairs, and a love seat, diplomas and certificates on the wall. A plum tree outside his window had deep purple leaves that seemed to wave at them in the breeze. Amanda’s description of Dr. Falcon was dead on, except she forgot to mention his unassuming good looks. She really had fallen in love.
Dr. Falcon sat on one of the chairs and faced them on the couch. His jeans and golf shirt made Pace feel overdressed in her slacks and cashmere sweater. Inappropriate nervous laughter bubbled up her throat, but a sideways glance at Jason, at his skeptical profile, tamped it down fast.
“So,” Dr. Falcon began, “I’ve read over your paperwork and what I typically do at the first session is let you both explain why you’ve come to see me, sort of assess the situation as it stands today, and then see what you’d like to get out of our time together.” He reached for a legal pad and ballpoint pen from his desk. “But before I ask you questions, do you have any questions of me, about my background or training?”
Jason and Pace looked at each other briefly, then back at the doctor. “My friend Amanda Potts recommended you, Dr. Falcon.”
He seemed appeased by Pace’s answer and smiled at them. When he asked Jason to tell him why he’d come, Jason squirmed in his seat. “Well,” he cleared his throat and flipped the end of his tie. “Pace was pregnant and there’s no way I was the father.”
“No way?”
“I had a vasectomy and I had it rechecked after she found out she was pregnant.”
Pace sighed audibly and Dr. Falcon zeroed in on her. “Pace, would you like to explain why you’re here?”
“I wasn’t pregnant.” She explained the details briefly. If he had read the papers they’d filled out, it wouldn’t have been news.
“I see.” He scribbled something on the pad. She couldn’t see what he’d put down. “So, there’s been a loss of trust on both sides.”
“Both sides?” Jason asked.
“I’d imagine you’re questioning your trust in your wife and that she’s questioning your faith in her.” He scribbled again and looked up, smiled, and pushed his little round glasses up the bridge of his nose. “What has your relationship been like since the doctor called?”
They both switched positions on the couch and Pace shoved her sleeves up her arms. Neither answered right away. “Not good,” she said when it became obvious Jason wasn’t going to respond.
“Have you discussed the situation calmly, are you fighting openly, has there been an accusation of cheating?”
When Jason snorted, she felt embarrassment flush her cheeks at the thought of revealing the private details of their life to a stranger. “There’s nothing to discuss or fight about until she admits she had an affair or her doctor admits a mistake.”
Clearly her husband didn’t have the same reservations. “I didn’t cheat on you, Jason.”
Dr. Falcon skillfully moved them past their blocking point. “Can you tell me about your relationship prior to the supposed pregnancy?”
“It was good,” she said, all embarrassment gone. There’d never been anything embarrassing about their love. “Really good.”
“Jason?” Dr. Falcon prodded.
He shrugged. “I thought it was good, but if she was cheating…I can’t be sure of anything.”
Dr. Falcon jotted something on his paper and seemed to study his work before
looking at them in turn. “I think you’ve come to me at the right time. It’s important to discover what led you here, not just the pregnancy or supposed pregnancy,” he said when Pace opened her mouth to interject, “but other factors in your past and present that may cause you both to question the other’s actions and reactions to this particular situation. I think it would be best to see you both individually, and as a couple, on a weekly basis.”
“Three sessions a week?” Jason asked. Pace could see him calculating the expense in his head.
“Three total, two for each of you.” He got up and went behind his desk, but didn’t sit down. “You’ve got a complex situation here, Mr. and Mrs. Kelly. Without proof, for either of you, we’re going to have to work especially hard at rebuilding your trust in each other.”
“Dr. Falcon,” Pace said. “We’ve got two small boys. They’re going to figure out something’s going on, but we don’t know what to tell them.”
“How old?”
“Five and seven.” Images of the boys flashed through her mind. The temperature had dropped since this morning and she hoped Mitchell remembered to wear his sock cap. They’d be getting off the bus soon.
“I find it best for parents to tell kids that age that mommy and daddy are having problems, but that you’re working on them. Be sure to tell them your problems are private and not for discussion with friends. That way, if they have questions, they’ll come to you.”
* * *
“So what do you think?” Pace asked Jason as they exited Dr. Falcon’s building. A blast of cold air hit them in the face and blew her jacket open. Jason noticed she wore the necklace he gave her for their seventh anniversary, the sterling silver heart.
He blew out a big breath and contemplated his answer. This kind of stuff, talking about the past and about his feelings, made him desperately uncomfortable. He didn’t understand guys like Dr. Falcon. In some sick way, he had to enjoy putting people on edge; maybe it made him feel really good about his own life to pick other people’s problems apart.
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