HER SECRET HUSBAND

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HER SECRET HUSBAND Page 10

by Andrea Laurence


  “She wasn’t as keen on the idea?”

  Ken shrugged. “She just needed a little persuading. Molly was beautiful, just like you are. She had her choice of boys in school. I just had to make sure she knew I was the best one. By our senior year in high school, I had won her over. I proposed that summer after we graduated and the rest is history.”

  Julianne felt a touch of shame for not knowing that much about her parents’ early relationship. She had no idea they’d met so young and got engaged right out of school. They were married nearly ten years before they finally had her, so somehow, it hadn’t registered in her mind. “You were so young. How did you know you were making the right choice?”

  “I loved your mother. It might not have been the easy choice to get married so young, but we made the most of it. On our wedding day, I promised your mother a fairy tale. Making good on that promise keeps me working at our marriage every day. There were hard times and times when we fought and times when we both thought it was a colossal mistake. But that’s when you’ve got to fight harder to keep what you want.”

  Julianne’s mind went to the package of paperwork in her bag and she immediately felt guilty. The one thing she never did was fight for her relationship with Heath. She had wanted it, but at the same time, she didn’t think she could have it. Tommy had left her in shreds. It took a lot of years and a lot of counseling to get where she was now and, admittedly, that wasn’t even the healthiest of places. She was a relationship failure who had just slept with her husband for the first time in their eleven-year marriage.

  Maybe if things had been different. Maybe if Heath’s parents hadn’t died. Or if Tommy hadn’t come to the farm. Maybe then they could have been happy together, the way her father envisioned.

  “I’ll keep that in mind when I’m ready to get back in the saddle,” she said, trying not to sound too dismissive.

  Ken smiled and patted her hand. “I’m an old man who’s only loved one woman his whole life. What do I know about relationships? Speaking of which—” he turned toward the door and grinned widely “—it’s time for my sponge bath.”

  Julianne turned to look at the door and was relieved to find her mother there instead of a young nurse. “Well, you two have fun,” she laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the house.”

  She gave her mom a quick hug and made her way out of the hospital. Putting the top up on the convertible, she drove faster than usual, trying to put some miles between her and her father’s words.

  He couldn’t be right about her relationship with Heath. If he knew everything that had happened, her father would realize that it just wasn’t meant to be. They would never be happy together and she had the divorce papers to prove it.

  Julianne cruised back into town, rolling past Daisy’s Diner and the local bar, the Wet Hen. Just beyond them were the market and the tiny post office. No one was in line in front of her, so she was able to fill out the forms and get the paperwork overnighted back to her lawyer’s office.

  It wasn’t until she handed over the envelope and the clerk tossed it into the back room that her father’s words echoed in her head and she felt a pang of regret. She hadn’t fought. She’d just ended it. A large part of her life had been spent with Heath as her husband. It wasn’t a traditional marriage by any stretch, but it had been a constant throughout the hectic ups and downs of her life.

  “Ma’am?” the clerk asked. “Are you okay? Did you need something else?”

  Julianne looked up at him. For a brief second, the words I changed my mind were on the tip of her tongue. He would fetch it back for her. She could wait. She wasn’t entirely certain that she wanted this.

  But Heath did. He wanted his freedom, she could tell. She’d left him hanging for far, far too long. He deserved to find a woman who would love him and give him the life and family he desired. Maybe Miss Caribbean could give him that. That was what she’d intended when she broke it off with him originally. To give him that chance. She just hadn’t had the strength to cut the last tie and give up on them.

  It was time, no matter what her dad said. “No,” she said with a smile and a shake of her head. “I’m fine. I was just trying to remember if I needed stamps, but I don’t. Thank you.”

  Turning on her heel, she rushed out of the post office and back out onto the street.

  * * *

  Heath was not surprised to wake up alone, but it still irritated him. He wandered through the quiet house and realized at last that her car was not in the driveway. It wasn’t hard to figure out that last night’s tryst had not sat well with her. As with most things, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

  They had been on the same page in the moment. It had been hot. More erotic than he ever dared imagine. They fell back to sleep in each other’s arms. He’d dozed off cautiously optimistic that he might get some morning lovin’ as well. That, obviously, had not panned out, but again, he was not surprised.

  Frankly, he was more surprised they’d had sex to begin with. He dangled the bait but never expected her to bite. His plan had always been to push their hot-button issue, make her uncomfortable and get her to finally file for divorce. He never anticipated rubbing clay all over her body and having steamy shower sex in the middle of the night. That was the stuff of his hottest fantasies.

  Of course, he’d also never thought she would cave so quickly to the pressure and order the divorce paperwork the same day he demanded it. He expected spending weeks, even months wearing her down. She had already held out eleven years. Then the papers arrived with such speed that he almost didn’t believe it. He’d wanted movement, one way or another, so he figured he should sign them before she changed her mind again.

  Sleeping with her a few hours later was an unanticipated complication.

  Heath glanced over at the table where he’d left the papers. They were gone. He frowned. Maybe she wanted this divorce more than he’d thought. He’d obviously given her the push she needed to make it happen, and she’d run straight to the post office with her prize.

  He opted not to dwell on any of it. He signed, so he couldn’t complain if she did the same. What was done was done. Besides, that’s not why he was here anyway. Heath had come to the farm, first and foremost, to take care of things while Ken recovered. Dealing with Julianne and their divorce was a secondary task.

  Returning to his room, he got dressed in some old jeans, a long-sleeved flannel shirt and his work boots. When he was ready he opted to head out to the fields in search of Owen, the farm’s only full-time employee. It didn’t take long. He just had to hop on one of the four-wheelers and follow the sound of the chain saw. They were in the final stretch leading up to Christmas-tree season, so it was prep time.

  He found Owen in the west fields. The northern part of the property was too heavily sloped for people to pick and cut their own trees. The trees on that side were harvested and provided to the local tree lots and hardware stores for sale. Not everyone enjoyed a trek through the cold to find the perfect tree, although Heath couldn’t fathom why. The tree lots didn’t have Molly’s hot chocolate or sleigh rides with carols and Christmas lights. No atmosphere at all.

  Most of the pick-and-cut trees were on the west side of the property. The western fields were on flat, easy terrain and they were closest to the shop and the bagging station. He found Owen cutting low branches off the trees and tying bright red ribbons on the branches.

  At any one time on the farm there were trees in half a dozen states of growth, from foot-tall saplings to fifteen-year-old giants that would be put in local shopping centers and town squares. At around eight years with proper trimming, a tree was perfect for the average home; full, about six to seven feet tall and sturdy enough to hold heavier ornaments. The red ribbons signified to their customers that the tree was ready for harvest.

  “Morning, Owen.”

  The older man looked up from his work and gave a wave. He put down the chain saw and slipped off one glove to shake Heath’s hand. “Morning there, Heat
h. Are you joining me today?”

  “I am. It looks like we’re prepping trees.”

  “That we are.” Owen lifted his Patriots ball cap and smoothed his thinning gray hair beneath it before fitting it back on his head. “I’ve got another chain saw for you on the back of my ATV. Did you bring your work gloves and some protective gear?”

  Heath whipped a pair of gloves out of his back pocket and smiled. He had his goggles and ear protection in the tool chest bolted to the back of the four-wheeler. “It hasn’t been so long that I’d forget the essentials.”

  “I don’t know,” Owen laughed. “Not a lot of need for work gloves in fancy Manhattan offices.”

  “Some days, I could use the ear protection.”

  Owen smiled and handed over the chain saw to Heath. “I’m working my way west. Most of this field to the right will be ready for Christmas. Back toward the house still needs a year or two more to grow. You still know how to tell which ones are ready for cutting?”

  He did. When he was too young to use the chainsaw, he was out in the fields tying ribbons and shaping trees with hedge clippers. “I’ve got it, Owen.”

  Heath went off into the opposite direction Owen was working so they covered more territory. With his headset and goggles in place, he cranked up the chain saw and started making his way through the trees. It was therapeutic to do some physical work. He didn’t really get the chance to get dirty anymore. He’d long ago lost the calluses on his hands. His clothes never smelled of pine or had stains from tree sap. It was nice to get back to the work he knew.

  There was nothing but the buzz of the saw, the cold sting of the air, the sharp scent of pine and the crunch of dirt and twigs under his boots. He lost himself in the rhythm of his work. It gave him a much-needed outlet as well. He was able to channel some of his aggression and irritation at Julianne through the power tool.

  His mind kept going back to their encounter and the look on her face when she’d asked him to keep their relationship a secret. Like it had ever been anything but a secret. Did she think that once they had sex he would dash out of the house and run screaming through the trees that he’d slept with her at last? Part of him had felt like that after finally achieving such an important milestone in their marriage, but given he’d signed the divorce papers only a few hours before that, it didn’t seem appropriate.

  It irritated him that she wouldn’t just admit the truth. She would go through the whole song and dance of excuses for her behavior but refused to just say out loud that she was embarrassed to be with him. She wanted him, but she didn’t want anyone to know it.

  Up until that moment in the shower, he’d thought perhaps that wasn’t an issue for them anymore. She might not want people to know they eloped as teenagers, but now? Julianne had been quick to point out earlier in the night just how “successful” he was. He had his regrets in life, but she was right. He wasn’t exactly a bad catch. He was a slippery one, as some women had discovered, but not a bad one.

  And yet, it still wasn’t enough for her. What did she want from him? And why did he even care?

  He was over her. Over. And he had been for quite some time. He’d told Nolan he didn’t love her anymore and that was true. There was an attraction there, but it was a biological impulse he couldn’t rid himself of. The sex didn’t change anything. They were simply settling a long overdue score between them.

  That just left him with a big “now what?” He had no clue. If she were off mailing their divorce papers, the clock was ticking. There were only thirty or so days left in their illustrious marriage. That was what he wanted, right? He started this because he wanted his freedom.

  Heath set down the chain saw and pulled a bundle of red ribbons out of his back pocket. He doubled back over the trees he’d trimmed, tying ribbons on the branches with clumsy fingers that were numb from the vibration of the saw.

  He didn’t really know what he wanted or what he was doing with his life anymore. All he knew was that he wasn’t going to let Julianne run away from him this time. They were going to talk about this whether she liked it or not. It probably wouldn’t change things. It might not even get her back in his bed again. But somehow, some way, he just knew that their marriage needed to end with a big bang.

  Eight

  Julianne returned to an empty bunkhouse. The Porsche wasn’t in the driveway. She breathed a sigh of relief and went inside, stopping short when she saw the yellow piece of paper on the kitchen table. Picking it up, she read over the hard block letters of Heath’s penmanship.

  There’s a sushi restaurant in Danbury on the square called Lotus. I have reservations there tonight at seven.

  With a sigh, she dropped the note back to the table. Heath didn’t ask her to join him. He wasn’t concerned about whether or not she might have plans or even if she didn’t want to have dinner with him. It didn’t matter. This was a summons and she would be found in contempt if she didn’t show up.

  Julianne knew immediately that she should not have run out on him this morning. They should have talked about it, about what it meant and what was going to happen going forward. Instead, she bailed. He was irritated with her and she didn’t blame him. That didn’t mean she appreciated having her evening dictated to her, but the idea of some good sushi was a lure. She hadn’t had any in a while. Daisy’s Diner wasn’t exactly known for their fresh sashimi.

  She checked the time on her phone. It was four-thirty now and it took about forty-five minutes to drive to Danbury. She’d never been to Lotus, but she’d heard of it before. It was upscale. She would have just enough time to get ready. She hadn’t exactly gone all-out this morning to run some errands around town, so she was starting from scratch.

  Julianne quickly showered and washed her hair. She blew it dry and put it up in hot rollers to set while she did her makeup and searched her closet for something to wear. For some reason, this felt like a date. Given they’d filed for divorce today, it also felt a little absurd, but she couldn’t stop herself from adding those extra special touches to her makeup. After a week surrounded by nothing but trees and dirt, the prospect of dressing up and going out was intriguing.

  Except she had nothing to wear. She didn’t exactly have a lot of fancy clothes. She spent most of her time covered in mud with a ponytail. Reaching into the back of the closet, she found her all-purpose black dress. It was the simple, classic little black dress that she used for various gallery showings and events. It was knee length and fitted with a deep V-neck and three-quarter sleeves. A black satin belt wrapped around the waist, giving it a little bit of shine and luxury without being a rhinestone-covered sparklefest.

  It was classic, simple and understated, and it showed off her legs. She paired it with pointy-toed patent leather heels and a silver medallion necklace that rested right in the hollow between her collarbones.

  By the time she shook out the curls in her hair, relaxing them into soft waves, and applied perfume at her pulse points, it was time to leave.

  She was anxious as she drove down the winding two-lane highway to Danbury. The fall evening light was nearly gone as she arrived in town. The small square was the center of college nightlife in Danbury and included several bars, restaurants and other hangouts. Lotus was at a small but upper-end location. She imagined it was where the college kids saved up to go for nice dates or where parents took them for graduation dinners and weekend visits.

  Julianne parked her convertible a few spots down from Heath’s silver Porsche. He was standing outside the restaurant, paying more attention to his phone than to the people and activities going on around him.

  She took her time getting out of the car so she could enjoy the view without him knowing it. He was wearing a dark gray suit with a platinum dress shirt and diamond-patterned tie of gray, black and blue. The suit fit him immaculately, stretching across his wide shoulders and tapering into his narrow waist.

  Heath had a runner’s physique; slim, but hard as a rock. Touching him in that shower had been a fant
asy come true after watching those carved abs from a distance day after day. Her only regret had been the rush. Their encounter had been a mad frenzy of need and possession. There was no time for exploring and savoring the way she wanted to. And if she had any sense, there never would be. Last night was a moment of weakness, a settling of scores.

  It was then that Heath looked up and saw her loitering beside the Camaro. He smiled for an instant when he saw her but quickly wiped away the expression to a polite but neutral face. It was as though he was happy to see her but didn’t want her to know. Or he kept forgetting he shouldn’t be happy to see her. Their relationship was so complicated.

  Julianne approached him, keeping her own face cautiously blank. She had been summoned, after all. This was not a date. It was a reckoning. “I’m here, as requested,” she said.

  Heath nodded and slipped his phone into his inner breast pocket. “So you are. I’m mildly surprised.” He reached for the door to the restaurant and held it open for her to go inside ahead of him.

  She tried not to take offense. He implied she was flaky somehow. After eleven years of artfully dodging divorce, it probably looked that way from the outside. “We’ve got weeks together ahead of us, Heath. There’s no sense in starting off on the wrong foot.”

  The maître d’ took their names and led them to their table. As they walked through the dark space, Heath leaned into her and whispered in her ear. “We didn’t start off on the wrong foot,” he said. The low rumble of his voice in her ear sent a shiver racing through her body. “We started off on the absolutely right foot.”

  “And then we filed for divorce,” she quipped, pulling away before she got sucked into his tractor beam.

  Heath chuckled, following quietly behind her. They were escorted to a leather booth in the corner opposite a large column that housed a salt water fish tank. The cylinder glowed blue in the dark room, one of three around the restaurant that seemed to hold the roof up overhead. The tanks were brimming with life, peppered with anemones, urchins, clown fish and other bright, tropical fish. They were the only lights in the restaurant aside from the individual spotlights that illuminated each table.

 

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