And she simply could not bear that. “Jax. Wait.” He stopped and looked back at her.
She lifted the covers, inviting him in. He arched an eyebrow. Are you sure?
At her nod, he came back to her. She raised the covers higher. He joined her in her bed.
“The lamp,” she said.
He switched it off and stretched out on his side facing her. She turned her back to him, scooting up close. Reaching back to take his hand, she positioned his arm into the dip of her waist. He pulled her in a little closer and settled his body around hers.
“You just tell me,” he whispered, “if you want me to go.”
“Stay,” she said, and closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, morning light peeked around the edges of the window blinds and Jax was still there with her, warm and solid.
And real.
* * *
The next night was the same.
They made love in his bed. And ended up in hers.
It went on like that for a week and a half. And then came the night she went to sleep in his bed—and didn’t wake up until time for breakfast the next day.
After that, it might go either way. They would sleep in his room through the night—or move to hers.
On a Tuesday night toward the end of October, after they’d moved to her room, Aislinn started to snuggle close to him spoon-fashion, her favorite position for sleep.
But she had something she really needed to say, so she turned on her other side and faced him. “I’ve been wanting to tell you...”
“What?” He reached out and idly smoothed the wild tangle of her hair.
“That summer I worked for you?”
“Yeah?”
“I used to wish with all my heart and soul that your marriage to Judy would fail.”
“You mentioned that before.” He eased his warm fingers around to cradle her nape, pulling her close enough to kiss the tip of her nose. “And wishing never makes it so.”
“When Martin called me and told me you were divorced and had been divorced for over a year—I just felt like such a terrible person. Wishing for the destruction of a marriage. That’s low.”
“My marriage to Judy died because of Judy and me. We own that. Whatever you might have wished had nothing to do with it.”
“Yeah. Well, then we can talk about what I did—which was to try to put a move on you.”
“And then you realized how wrong that was and removed yourself from the situation. Sometimes people want what they can’t have. Wanting isn’t a sin. It’s cheating and stealing to get what isn’t yours, that’s where the evil is.”
She met his eyes through the shadows. “I never felt so guilty in my life as that day at Kircher and Anders. I felt like Martin had reached into the darkest corner of my soul and brought my most shameful secret out into broad daylight for everyone to see.”
He combed her hair back from her temple with his fingers, a gentle, rhythmic sort of touch. “You think maybe that’s a guilt you can learn to let go of?”
“I’m working on it.”
Leaning in again, he brushed her lips with his. “What else?”
She smiled against his mouth, that he had read her so well—and then she gave a nervous sigh. “Two weeks from tomorrow, the terms of Martin’s will are satisfied.”
He pulled away. “Something in your voice tells me I’m not going to like what you say next.”
She needed just to say it outright, like ripping off a bandage. No sense in dragging it out. “Once we’re all settled up with Kircher and Anders, I want to move back to Valentine Bay.”
His eyes remained locked with hers through the gloom. “Why?”
“I need to.”
“Because?”
“I need...a separation between this, you and me, living out the terms of Martin’s will. And you and me as just us, doing what we want to do, building the life we choose, together.”
“Are you going to divorce me?”
“Never. I fully intend to come back and live here with you. I just need some time. I need coming here to be my choice.”
He was quiet, his eyes reproaching her. The silence stretched out.
Finally, he asked, “When will you come back to me?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t have the answer to that question yet.”
There was another silence. A long one. “I’m not happy about this,” he said at last.
“I didn’t think you would be.”
He pushed back the covers and got up. “I’m going to sleep in my room.”
“All right,” she said. “Just remember I love you. And it will all work out.”
* * *
Jax tried to stay angry at her. He lasted through the next day.
But then he realized that he’d just wasted a whole day he could have had with her. If she did leave, she would be going way too soon.
Fourteen days remained to him. He’d been an idiot to waste a single one of them. Refusing to speak to her wasn’t going to help him convince her to stay.
He went out with Burt after dinner in the pouring rain to check on a sick mare. The mare seemed better. But they found a fence down. A couple of fillies and a gelding had gotten out. He and Burt herded them back where they belonged and fixed the broken fence.
It was past nine and still raining when he got back to the house. He could hear the TV going in the family room, which meant Aislinn hadn’t gone up to her room and closed the door—yet.
He left his boots by the back door, washed up quick in the downstairs half bath and dried off his shirt and jeans with the hand towel as best he could. Then he went to find her and make amends.
She turned off the TV when he entered the great room. “Wet enough for you?”
He went and stood by the sofa where she sat. “I still don’t like it.”
“Yeah.” Biting the corner of her lip, she looked at him through those big eyes he saw in his dreams. “I got that loud and clear. But I need to do it.”
“Do I get to be with you while you’re living in that beach house in Valentine Bay?”
“Yes, please.”
“What? Like for dates?”
“Well, yes. I was hoping we would go out. I don’t know. Take walks. I’ll cook you dinner. Sometimes maybe I’ll come here. You know, like couples do.”
“And we’ll still be married?”
“Yes, we will.”
“Just separated.”
She licked her finger and hissed through her teeth as she made an imaginary mark in the air. “Good one.”
He looked down at his thick socks. “I’m being a jerk again, huh?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
He held out his hand. “Will you come up to bed with a jerk like me?”
She got up and put her hand in his. It was all the permission he needed to pull her in tight and kiss her hard and deep.
They went up the stairs with their arms wrapped around each other.
* * *
The next fourteen days were gone in an instant.
All of a sudden, it was the first Tuesday in November and Jax and Aislinn were leaving the offices of Kircher and Anders. Fifty thousand dollars had just been direct-deposited into her checking account. And Jax was now the sole owner of Wild River Ranch and everything on it, along with a number of stocks and investments and the key to Martin’s safe-deposit box at a nearby bank.
She offered to go to the bank with him if he wanted to check out the safe-deposit box.
“I pretty much know what’s in it,” he said.
“So then that’s a no?”
He looked at her bleakly. “I could not care less about the damn safe-deposit box right now,” he grumbled. “When are you leaving?”
“I thought I’d get started moving my stuff to
day.”
He eyed her mournfully—with maybe a teaspoon of bitterness. “Where will you stay tonight?”
Was she tempted to steal one more night in his bed? Undeniably. But she did mean to do this and she needed not to wimp out. “I’ll be at my cottage, Jax.”
His big shoulders slumped. “Fine. Let’s get moving.”
At the ranch, he and Burt and Erma all pitched in to help her load her things into her Honda and the two pickups with horse trailers. They packed up and loaded the studio, the rabbits and all the rabbit gear, along with Aislinn’s personal belongings from upstairs.
At five, after a shy goodbye hug from Erma, Aislinn climbed in her CR-V and they caravanned to Valentine Bay.
Harper and Hailey were waiting at the cottage with takeout for everyone. They ate quickly and got to work. By nine, with everybody pitching in, they had it all unloaded and the rabbits set up in their old home on the enclosed front porch.
Burt was eager to go.
Aislinn offered him her hand. “Thank you, Burt.”
Scowling, he took her fingers and gave them a quick shake. “This is a dumb-ass idea, Princess,” he griped. “Say the word and we’ll load everything right back up again and take you home where you belong.”
She almost threw her arms around him and burst into tears.
But he must have sensed her intention. His eyes widened in alarm. He spun on his heel and headed for his truck, muttering loud enough that she didn’t miss a word, “Women. Even the good ones are crazy half the damn time.”
Harper and Hailey said goodbye to Jax and went inside.
That left her standing outside between the cottage and her work shed with her unhappy husband. It was starting to rain.
She pulled up the hood on her canvas jacket and took a key from her pocket. Catching his hand, she laid the key in his palm and folded his fingers over it. “Anytime you want to visit, come on in.”
“Your sisters okay with that?”
“Of course. You’re my guy.”
The grim lines of his face eased a little. “Great. I think I’ll stay over.” She didn’t miss the light of challenge in his eyes.
He was expecting her to send him away.
Not a chance. “What about your horses?”
“I’ll get up good and early. Burt won’t even know I was gone.”
She slid her arms around his waist and tipped her head back. “All right, then.” Raindrops—big, cold ones—splattered her cheeks and forehead. “Stay the night. I would like that a lot.”
“Aislinn.” He growled her name as he claimed her lips, his tongue spearing in to invade her mouth in the most delicious way.
When he lifted his head, she took his arm and led him inside.
* * *
It was still raining when she woke at dawn the next morning. And Jax was gone. She missed him already.
In the kitchen, her sisters gave her funny looks.
Harper poured her some coffee and handed it over. “What’s going on, really?”
“Yeah,” Hailey chimed in from her seat at the table, where she was shoveling in her usual Honey Bunches of Oats. “You’re married. You love the guy. It’s obvious he loves you. But still, you’re back here.”
“And he stayed the night, didn’t he?” Harper sounded bewildered.
Hailey paused with a mound of milky cereal dripping from her spoon. “Makes no sense.” She stuck the spoon in her mouth and chewed, frowning. “Are you separated?”
“No way. I love him.”
“But you’re here and he’s there.”
“I know. But it’s not a separation so much as a little pause.”
“Ais,” said Harper. “You are making no sense at all.”
Aislinn leaned back against the counter and looked into her coffee as though an answer to everything might be lurking in there. “I don’t really know why I’m doing this. I just have to do it.”
Harper moved in close. Aislinn appreciated the comforting touch as her sister hooked an arm around her waist. “Is this about your getting switched?”
She let herself lean on Harper a little. “Yeah. It’s about taking back my life, you know? Starting over with Jax, doing it in a way that works for me.”
Hailey crunched more oats. “You mean you and Jaxon are going to be dating?”
“Essentially.”
“Wow,” said Harper. “Dating your own husband...”
“It’s all backward, I realize that. Too bad. I just need to do it.”
“Maybe a little therapy wouldn’t hurt,” Hailey suggested gingerly.
Aislinn shrugged. “Maybe. We’ll see how it goes.”
“I try not to say bad stuff about dead people.” Hailey picked up the orange juice by her bowl and drank it, plunking the empty glass sharply down. “But sometimes I hate that old man, Martin. What he did was unforgivable.”
“But think.” Harper’s arm around Aislinn tightened a little. “If he hadn’t done it, Ais wouldn’t be our sister.”
“Fine.” Hailey let out a hard sigh. “Some really good stuff happened because of what he did. But only because God or fate was willing to help out a little. As for Martin Durand, though? I’m not giving him credit for squat.”
* * *
Aislinn spent most of that rainy day setting up her studio.
When she finally got down to work, she felt cramped in the small shed and kept having to stop and search for her tools. She missed the bigger, more comfortable space at Wild River—oh, who was she kidding?
She missed Wild River, period.
She missed Jax, too, though she’d spent last night in his arms. She missed Erma’s steady, comfortable presence. She even missed Burt, which was something she would once have sworn could never happen.
She texted Jax twice. At around ten in the morning: Did you get home okay?
And later, in the afternoon: Just so you know, I love you.
He didn’t answer either text. She hadn’t really expected him to. His phone was probably sitting on the dresser in his bedroom, in need of a charge.
When she took a break to scare up some dinner, the house was empty. She kept her phone on the table to the left of her plate, just in case Jax might get in touch.
Nothing.
She took care of Luna and Bunbun, worked until ten and then went to bed, waking from a fitful sleep when the mattress shifted. Cold air made her shiver as the covers were lifted.
“Jax?”
“You were expecting someone else?” He was gloriously naked. And his skin was cool.
“Brr.” She cuddled in close to help warm him up—and because where else would she ever want to be? “What time is it?”
He stroked her shoulder, pressed his lips into her hair. “Late.”
“You have to leave early?”
“In about three hours.”
“You’ll be exhausted.” She sighed and pressed a kiss to the center of his chest.
“I wasn’t going to come,” he said in a gruff whisper, his lips close to her ear. “I held out until after midnight. But I couldn’t last.”
“I’m glad. It’s selfish of me, but I am.”
He made a low, grumbling sound. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. I texted you my love.”
“And to ask me if I got home okay—which I did. I got both texts when I charged my phone after dinner.”
“But you didn’t answer.”
“I’m here,” he said, as if that explained everything—and really, it kind of did. His big arms gathered her even closer. “Go to sleep.”
She felt a little stab of guilt, to be putting them both through this absurdity, with her wanting to be back at Wild River with him and his driving to get to her in the middle of the night because he couldn’t stay away.
It was
all completely unnecessary. She wanted to be home—and yes, somehow in the three months she’d been living out the terms of Martin’s will, Wild River had become her home.
What was she waiting for?
She had no idea.
She only knew that in a few days something would click within her and she would be ready to pack up her stuff all over again and go back where she belonged.
Chapter Eleven
The click she was waiting for?
Never happened.
Not that week or the next.
She worked long hours in her studio, not stopping until Jax arrived, which he did nearly every night, only to leave before dawn the next morning.
He was doing all he could to make this thing she just had to do easier on her. He even took her out—to dinner one Saturday night, to a show the next.
In bed on the following Tuesday night, a week and two days before Thanksgiving, she asked him if he would go with her to Daniel and Keely’s for the holiday dinner. He said he would and she suggested, “Bring Burt and Erma, too.”
“Erma always goes to her sister’s in Tacoma when there’s a holiday. But I’ll invite Burt.”
“Perfect.”
He was silent. Too silent. Finally, he asked, “Are you ever coming home, Aislinn?”
“Of course, yes.”
He reached over, turned on the lamp and sat up. As she blinked against the sudden brightness, he said, “Got any idea yet when that’s going to happen?”
“Soon, I’m sure.”
He glowered down at her. “I would do anything for you. But I’m not understanding why this is necessary. You think you’re getting even with Martin somehow?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Good. Because there’s really no getting even with a dead man, in case you didn’t know.”
“I do know. Yes.” Her voice sounded doubtful to her own ears.
“You want me to sell Wild River and move in here with you?”
Had she heard right? He would never sell what he loved most of all. And she didn’t want him to. “Of course not.”
“For you, I would do that. What we have—or what we will have as soon as you work through what’s eating at you—it’s everything to me. You’re what matters most to me now.”
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