The Secretive Wife (More Than a Wife Series Book 2)

by Jennifer Peel

  “What about the rest of us?” Sarah was on the verge of tears.

  I almost felt sorry for Sarah. I knew one of the reasons she hated me was because Peter and I eloped. I understood why that would be painful. From the look in her eyes I think she felt even more betrayed by Sam, her only daughter. If she could only see why her children felt the need to do things behind her back and that her way wasn’t the only way.

  It was time for me to jump back into the fire. “I think it’s terrific. Congratulations!”

  Before Sarah tried to set me ablaze with her eyes, Avery and James were congratulating them as well. Even Joseph was hugging Sam, although he didn’t look happy at all with Reed.

  Mimsy was shuffling toward them, muttering about adultery. Good thing she didn’t have any water on her.

  And that’s when I found myself in Peter’s arms. We said not a word, but clung to each other in our private island of safety. As long as I had that tiny slice of paradise, it didn’t matter what raged on around us. Peter would always be my refuge.

  Chapter Seven

  Peter walked his family out while I cleaned up the kitchen. Only my nephews and father-in-law had any of the treats, but in true teenage fashion they not only left out the ice cream, but they dripped it all over the island. I didn’t mind the mess. I was glad to have something constructive to do. The night was more . . . just more of everything. More surprising, shocking, revealing, you name it. My head buzzed with the night’s revelations.

  This I knew, I was over-the-moon happy for Sam and I was done with Sunday dinners and Peter’s mother. I’d heard her whisper to Mimsy on the way out in between her tears that she was sure we were growing marijuana or cooking meth in the attic. She swore she was never talking to any of us again. If only I could get a guarantee on that. She was crazy, and if ever we had children, they would be better off without her. Not like she would treat them well anyway, because I was their mother.

  While I loaded the dishwasher, Peter crept up behind me and brushed my hair away from my neck before his lips rested there.

  I took a moment to enjoy the feel of his lips against my skin. “I’m sorry for making you sound like a centerfold.”

  He spun me around and held me close. “Maybe that was a little over the top, but it was my fault for inviting them over here.”

  “It was the first thing that popped into my head.”

  He chuckled against my ear. “Should I be worried about what’s in your next book?”

  “Maybe,” I teased.

  He kissed my head and sighed. “Tonight was an unmitigated disaster.”

  “That is an understatement.” I took a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t think I can do Sunday dinners anymore.”

  Peter’s shoulders fell.

  “Your mother is never going to like me or accept me.”

  “I’m sorry, Delanie.”

  “I’m sorry, too. I haven’t exactly engendered her goodwill.”

  “You’ve at least tried.”

  I sank further into him, letting my head rest on his shoulder. “What about Reed and Sam?” I needed a change of subject. “I didn’t see that coming, though I had my suspicions they were—”

  Peter tipped my chin up and kissed me before I could finish my thought. “I’m with James here—Sam is, was, and will always be a virgin.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “Does that make Reed one too?”

  Peter kissed my nose. “Yep.”

  “I’ll let you live in your fairytale land.”

  He gazed into my eyes. “I already do.”

  I ran my hand across his cheek while returning his gaze. “Am I really your happily ever after?”

  “You are my happy every day.”

  “Even when I tell people there are naked pictures of you in our attic?”

  “Even then,” he groaned.

  I sank back against him.

  Peter rubbed my back. “I think this moment calls for some MJ.”

  “Not him.”

  “Baby, it’s our song.”

  “I don’t remember us officially declaring it our song.”

  “It was the first song we ever danced to in your kitchen.”

  “That I remember.”

  “Do you also remember,” he whispered in my ear, “that I told you I was going to marry you that night?”

  My stomach still fluttered over it. It was insane, but for some reason it felt so right even though technically we had only been dating for two weeks. But I already knew I was in love with him. “I do. And I told you, you were the only man I would ever consider marrying.”

  “It’s the magic MJ, I’m telling you.”

  “Now you’re giving credit to Michael Jackson for our union?”

  Peter reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He must have had it ready to go because he only tapped on a couple of buttons before, “Rock With You” began to play. Peter placed his phone on the counter before wrapping me up and swaying to the disco classic.

  I laughed against his chest. “I can’t believe this is our song.”

  “Believe it, baby; I want to rock with you all night long.”

  He had me laughing hard while I breathed in his spicy clean scent.

  “James always told me if I wanted to get the lady, to play this song.”

  That made a lot of sense. James was a reformed lady’s man from the way Avery told it. She wasn’t keen on dating him at all. By all accounts she had turned him down several times. As she put it, he was one of those guys who knew he looked good and could get almost anyone he wanted. She didn’t want to be another notch on his bedpost. The elder brother was no angel. I don’t think Sarah knew, or if she did, she had chosen to ignore it. Even after James finally convinced Avery to go out with him, they broke up a few times. Avery had never said why. I didn’t think she liked to talk about it, so I’d left it alone.

  “Speaking of your brother, is he okay? He’s been a bit moody lately.”

  Peter stopped swaying for a moment and rested his chin on my head. “I’ve noticed too, but he’s not one to talk about his feelings. Growing up, he’d rather shove me or punch me before opening up. Has Avery said anything?”

  “No, but I’m not sure she would. I have a feeling she’s the type who wears her game face as much as she can.”

  “Hmm. I’ll try and talk to him tomorrow at work. But for now,” he pulled me closer and began swaying off beat to our ridiculous song, “we are going to share the beat of love.”

  My laugh came out more as a bark. He was so cheesy, but I loved him for it. Only he could get me to laugh after such a night. We danced to several more of Michael Jackson’s songs, sharing the beat of love and some heated kisses before Peter whisked me upstairs. There we made our own kind of music.

  Peter had this uncanny ability to easily drift off to sleep even when the day was emotion filled. I envied him that talent. Emotionally charged days made my mind race more than usual. With my head resting against my husband’s chest, listening to his pure heart, I wrestled with my thoughts. As much as I hated to admit it, Sarah could get to me. She had me thinking about past choices. I was no angel, unlike the man who held me so close and at times spoke my name in his sleep. I didn’t sell or make drugs like my mother-in-law implied, but I had stupidly tried a few when I was growing up. Thankfully, I hated the way they made me feel and never had any desire to try them again. Peter knew that. He had grimaced when I told him but tried to make me feel better by saying we all did dumb things when we were younger. I knew, though, that my carelessness way outdid his, and I didn’t like the thought of him being disappointed in me. Or questioning his choice—me.

  My fingers lightly brushed his smooth chest while I wondered what he would think of his wife if he knew all the things I would go back and change if I could . . . and most especially the one I wouldn’t. A single tear fell on his warm skin, causing him to stir but not wake. At times I ached for him to know all of me, including the parts he might not like. Those pa
rts who made me who I was, the complicated woman he loved in the here and now. The question was, would he still love me? Would he still choose me? Most of me believed he would, but there was enough self-doubt to make me keep pieces of myself in a secret vault. Like the Barbie under my bed when I was younger that I knew couldn’t be inherently bad, yet it would have deeply disappointed Cat and Ron to know I had chosen to be like the masses. It wasn’t that I wanted to be like everyone else; I only wanted to belong. That Barbie made me feel like I belonged with my classmates at the time. It was “normal.”

  If I gave Peter the combination to my vault, would he still think I belonged with him after looking inside? Would he see that my choices weren’t inherently bad? That we didn’t see good and bad in the same way? The unknown answer kept me up at night. In these arms was the first time I knew I belonged somewhere. My family wasn’t on the moon, it was with Peter. My past choices shaped me. I would even say they helped me become a better person. Did Peter really need to know everything about me before we met? I didn’t need to know every piece of his past. Was I only trying to justify myself? I took in a deep breath and held it, trying to decide. I let it out slowly.

  Peter’s arms tightened around me. “I love you,” he whispered in his sleep.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. That was all the answer I needed.

  Chapter Eight

  “I hope I’m not calling too early.”

  I looked at the clock on my computer—7:00 a.m. I had been awake for over two hours. My imaginary friends had decided it was time to play. Peter had been gone for an hour already. He and James had to finish the Finley job today. I rubbed my tired eyes. “You can call anytime.”

  “I might take you up on that someday,” Sam said.

  “I hope you do.”

  “You’re sweet. I’m calling to apologize.”

  “For what?”

  “I hope you understand the reason why we didn’t tell anyone about getting married wasn’t because we didn’t want you there, but—”

  “Sam,” I interrupted, “you don’t need to explain yourself or apologize. Believe me, I’ve been there. There is something to be said for it only being the two of you and Cody.”

  She sighed happily. “It was perfect.”

  I thought the same thing when Peter and I eloped. “I’m happy for you all.”

  “Thank you,” she sounded relieved. “It happened so fast. One moment we were joking about it, and the next, we’re heading down I-55 to a map dot of a town with the cutest courthouse where no one knew who we were. And it’s been kind of nice keeping it to ourselves while we adjust to our new roles.”

  “What does Cody think?”

  “In light of his father’s asinine decisions, I think it’s been a nice distraction. Reed is the dad I always wanted for him. So much so, I’ve teased Reed that he only wanted to marry me for Cody.”

  “I highly doubt that by the smile that’s been on his face for the last few weeks.”

  “You noticed.”

  “I told Peter that NDA had been signed, sealed, and given a big stamp of approval.”

  Sam laughed. “You are observant.”

  “It wasn’t hard to tell. Your brothers are just pretending you’re an eternal virgin.”

  “That would be my mother’s wish.” She paused. “That was the other reason I was calling. I’m so sorry about the way Ma treated you last night.”

  I shrugged to myself. “It was to be expected.”

  “No one should expect that. And you certainly don’t deserve it, even if you are keeping naked photos of yourself locked in your attic,” she teased.

  We both laughed.

  “By the way, thanks to you, my husband—” she took a moment, “that’s still so weird for me to say—is begging me to get some boudoir photos done now. He’s going to call Peter this morning to ask him where.”

  My poor husband. “That should go over well.”

  “Reed only wants to give him a hard time; he knows you weren’t serious.”

  “It wasn’t my finest moment.”

  “Are you kidding? It was brilliant. Reed and I had a good laugh over it.”

  “I’m glad someone did. Thank you for your heroics last night.”

  She playfully scoffed. “Well, I’m not sure I saved anyone’s day. I probably did more damage than good. But we’d been waiting for the right moment to disappoint Ma, and—”

  “You didn’t think anything could be worse than her son posing for nudes?”

  She half snorted, half laughed. “Something like that. Unfortunately, I didn’t account for how disappointed Dad would be.”

  “I’m sure he understands.”

  “Be that as it may, I won’t soon forget the moisture in his eyes or when he whispered, ‘I was looking forward to walking you down the aisle again.’”

  Ouch. I felt that in my gut. “Oh.”

  “‘Oh’ is right. And I feel bad that I’m sure he had to put up with Ma ranting to him all night long.”

  I had no doubt that had happened.

  “She’s already left me a dozen messages this morning,” Sam lamented, “but I haven’t been brave enough to listen to them yet.”

  At least my mother-in-law never called me. I wasn’t even sure if she had my number. “I don’t envy you.”

  “I truly am sorry about Ma. She holds tightly to her ideals, as if they are the only ones that exist. It’s not you. It was her expectations for Peter.”

  I was confident it was me but didn’t voice it. “I don’t think anyone expected me, especially Peter.”

  “For him, I think you exceeded his expectations. He found his real calling with you.”

  Sam always knew what to say. She had this mothering quality to her that I wished to have and needed more than she knew. She reminded me of another mother who appeared years ago when I needed her; unfortunately, it wasn’t Cat. It certainly was never going to be Sarah. And I wondered if I would ever respond to Sam’s mothering the way I wanted to. It meant the world to me, but as much as I craved it I didn’t know how to take it, internalize it, and return it without awkwardness.

  “I think at this rate he’ll be calling for a refund.” See? No thanks or warmth.

  “Never.”

  I hoped that was true. “The real question is are you accepting Weekend Musings’s offer?” Deflection at its best.

  She took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “Yeah. I think I am. Is that crazy?”

  “I think it’s terrific.”

  “I’m going to need your help.”

  “I don’t think so, but regardless, I’m here for you.”

  “You always have such great tips. Did you take a class in college or something? I need one.”

  I swallowed down all the lies I could tell and thought carefully about how I could tell the truth. “I did take several journalism classes in college.” It was my first love, but it also got me into some trouble; no need to bring that up. “And my work runs workshops on how to ask good questions to net the best answers.”

  That was all true. I had even attended some via Skype, but where my real knowledge came from were all the endless interviews I had done through my assistant. Obviously, I only answered questions that wouldn’t reveal anything about me personally. Autumn Moone, on the other hand, was highly sought after and several news outlets wanted the scoop on her and Hunter Black. The less we gave them, the more they wanted. Just another strategy of my publisher.

  For Sam, it was the opposite—the more she gave people access to her thoughts, the more they demanded. She struck a chord with women, whether married, sidelined, or single. We could all relate to trying to figure ourselves out, being looked over at times, or even looked at in the wrong light. Didn’t we all feel like we didn’t belong in some way? Sam had a talent for making women feel like they weren’t alone.

  “I need some of those workshops.”

  “You’re going to be great. You’re a natural. Just keep it real.”

  “If I
was going to keep it real, I would show up PMSing in yoga pants without my roots done.”

  “It’s not a bad idea.” I laughed.

  “It would probably make for a short-lived TV career.”

  “I don’t know. I think it might work, actually.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind. I better go. My guys are headed off for practice.” She sounded so happy saying that.

  “Congratulations again.”

  “Thank you.” There was such heart behind her words. I wanted to be like her when I grew up.

  Back to work for me. I turned to my screen. An evil mother moment was on tap. Unfortunately, I had some raw material from the previous night to work with. Laine too was getting a visit from her least favorite person, making her question whether she really wanted a relationship with Hunter or not. In her heart she knew the answer. Like me, I would have married Peter even if I’d met his mother first, though it would have better prepared me. And I would have suggested another place to live. At the time it made sense to move here because he had employment right away with his dad, and Peter longed to be with his family.

  I loved Laine’s spirit. I could see myself using this line in the future. How your ovaries ever produced such an amazing person, I will never know.

  How many times had I thought that about Sam, Peter, and on occasion, James. Joseph’s gene pool must be strong. Thank goodness.

  In an odd turn of events, my phone vibrated, and Joseph’s name flashed on my screen. I wasn’t sure he had ever called me. The only reason I had his number was because Peter insisted I program it into my phone for emergency purposes. It was sweet on my husband’s part, but I’d lived in some mean parts of Phoenix, as he well knew, and there wasn’t a street in downtown Portland I hadn’t walked. If I had to be tough, I could be. I’d taken down a two-hundred-fifty-pound police officer in a self-defense class back in college. But I appreciated the chivalry Peter exuded on my behalf.

  My heart did a hiccup before answering. Maybe Peter was having an emergency. Why else would Joseph call me? I answered in heart-pounding haste. “Hello.”