by Heidi Hormel
“Go get dressed in something clean,” he said to Calvin. Olympia turned away and put the pan in the sink with a slam.
She frowned. “Saguaro Sal’s? You know it’s a school night, right? And that it’ll cost us about a million dollars.”
He shrugged. “We can’t eat what you made.”
She stiffened. “If you hadn’t been attacking me, I would have paid attention to the food. There’s plenty in the freezer.”
“I can afford to take my family out to an overpriced kiddie paradise.” He stomped off, knowing he sounded about as old as Calvin.
“Are you ready?” he asked through his son’s open door. “We’ve got to get going if you want to play Street Fighter and Hedgehog.”
“Dad.” Calvin sounded pained. “Those are ooold games. Nobody plays those.”
“I do. Guess I’m old,” he said in a hearty voice, stepping into the boy’s room.
“What’s wrong, Dad?” Calvin stood in the middle of his room, half in, half out of a T-shirt with a bright neon design that Rickie had bought him at a street fair.
“Nothing.”
“You shouldn’t lie.”
Spence stopped himself from denying it. Calvin was a smart kid, smart enough to know that something was up. “I got a letter and—”
“You fought with Limpy. You shouldn’t do that. She’s pregnant and...she’s nice.”
“She is nice,” he agreed. “Adults can be nice and not agree.”
“Like you and Mommy?”
“Not exactly like me and Mommy. We’ll work it out. You don’t need to worry, buddy. Adult stuff.” Spence tried to ruffle his son’s hair, but the boy stepped away.
Calvin looked at him, very serious and very adult. “I know Mimi and Grandpa Stu want me to stay with them. They’ve said so, but I like it here, even if the hot water doesn’t always work. Don’t fight with Limpy anymore, Dad, or she might want us to leave.”
His son knew exactly how to cut out his guts. Spence choked out, “I won’t fight.”
“Go apologize, then. That’s what you have to do.”
His son—his bighearted, big-brained son—was right. He needed to apologize. He’d been wrong to attack Olympia where she was most vulnerable. She’d tried hard to be what he needed. “You’re extrasmart tonight.”
“Stop being mushy. Go apologize so we can get to Sal’s.”
He found Olympia still in the kitchen, scrubbing the pan in the sink.
“I want to—”
“Yell at me some more,” she sniffed.
Darn it. She was crying. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. “I’m sorry,” he said as he pulled her away from the sink. “The letter got me all messed up. I’m worried.”
“I know that.” She sucked in a breath. “I just don’t want to make it worse.”
“You’re not. My God, I couldn’t do it without you. You’re so good with Calvin.”
“It’s not me. He doesn’t really need me. He’s such a—”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Calvin still needs a mother...a strong, caring woman in his life.”
Olympia patted her belly. Those unconscious movements had increased as the baby grew more active. She’d also softened in some essential way. He could see her bond with the baby and Calvin growing. He was happy but also fearful. Would she really walk away? And if she did, how would he...the kids take it? He couldn’t think about that now. Eugenia and Stuart Smythe-Ferris were top of his list.
“Maybe it should be just the guys at Sal’s?” she asked as the silence stretched out.
“Are you trying to get out of this? I don’t think so. It’s not fair to send an adult in there on his own.”
“Any other adult, maybe, but I think you like the games more than he does.”
With that little exchange, they were back on familiar footing. The affection, the connection, but nothing too deep, because too deep meant that he’d need to face what exactly was going to happen in two months when she had the baby.
“Come on, you two, let’s go,” Calvin said. “Dad, did you apologize? Limpy, I told him to apologize.”
“He did a good job,” she told his son. “Are you sure you want me to come along?”
“Of course,” Calvin said. “You keep Dad from pouting when I beat him.”
“I do not pout. Grown men do not pout.”
They argued, teased and laughed the whole way to Sal’s. Spence’s lawyer brain could pay attention to the games as he turned over not only the letter from his former in-laws but also what was going on between him and his wife. Eugenia and Stuart were easier to deal with.
“Dad,” Calvin said with disgust. “Pay attention. I beat you again.”
“You’re going to be sorry now,” Spence joked, focusing on the here and now, because wasn’t that why he was doing all this? So he could be with his son?
“Ha! You’ve got old-man reflexes.”
“It’s on now, boy.”
Calvin beat Spence again. The boy really was good at the video games, which might be more because he’d spent too many hours inside than any brainpower.
“Why doesn’t Limpy have a ring?”
“Excuse me?”
“Husbands and wives are supposed to have rings when they’re married. You two don’t have them.”
Kids were great at lobbing these left-field questions. Good thing he had a great attorney face. “We decided we didn’t need them.”
“Grandpa Stu says that diamonds are a girl’s best friend.”
“He was being funny. Not all married couples have rings.”
Calvin let the comment drop, but Spence couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why hadn’t they gotten rings? His in-laws would notice it. He should have thought of that.
“What are you frowning about?” Olympia asked as she came up to them.
“How Calvin keeps beating me. I think he must be cheating.” Spence definitely didn’t want to say anything to her about the rings. That symbol felt too real; if they added that to all the other deceits, it would be too much.
“Did not, Dad.”
“Did, too,” he responded good-naturedly.
“Are you about done?” she asked, her hand rubbing at her back.
Calvin beat him to the answer. “Yep. I bet Peanut needs to get to sleep.”
“Yes, she does. She’s been kicking me to remind me that it’s past bedtime.”
It felt so natural for him to follow his son and wife to his truck. To drive home and recount the fun night. It felt even more natural when he rubbed Olympia’s back.
“Calvin asked me something odd tonight,” he said as Olympia wiggled into a more comfortable position in bed. The question of the ring had been nagging at him.
“Yeah?” she said, her voice drowsy.
“He asked why we didn’t have rings.” He immediately felt her stiffen. “I should have thought of it when we got married.”
“Maybe,” she said slowly, then her voice shifted to a pitiful sigh. “It wouldn’t matter anyway. My fingers are sausages. Everything is swollen. I feel like a big water balloon. I thought with summer over, it would get better.”
“It’s still hot.”
“The air-conditioning keeps it cool in here.”
Was that an invite? He stopped rubbing her back, his hand slipping up to rest on her breast. Usually, he only did that when she made a clear invitation, but her declaration had been an invite of sorts.
She wriggled against him, her soft behind nestling against his crotch. “Hmm. Seems like something else is swollen.”
He pushed his face into her fragrant nape, inhaling deeply the smell of French fries, salsa and Olympia. “I don’t think the cool weather will make any difference.”
“Anything I can do t
o help?” She moved slowly and suggestively.
He groaned and squeezed her breast, which wrung a soft moan from her. “These seem a little swollen, too.” He kissed her neck and worked at lifting her nightgown. She gasped as his hand slipped between her thighs.
“I guess you forgive me.”
For just a second, she stopped, then she said, “Maybe, but I won’t forgive you if you don’t finish what you started.”
“Me?”
“Shut up and get about your business, cowboy.”
“Yes, ma’am. Your pleasure is my command,” he said in his best drawl.
Chapter Thirteen
Spence looked at his ex-wife, sitting at the other table in family court. Why had he thought her model good looks were beautiful? Probably the fact that they’d both been young, along with his desire to be part of Missy’s large, interconnected, long-time Arizona family. But they weren’t like he’d imagined. On the outside they were the Waltons, but once he’d gotten to know them, they were The Real Housewives meets Duck Dynasty. Spence’s attorney poked him. Crap. Had the judge said something? Spence looked up and acted interested. If he could just stop going over the prenup again and again, looking for the loophole that would keep Olympia around... Then he’d tell himself he was an idiot. She didn’t want to stay. Then he’d remembered their nights in bed and—
“Mr. MacCormack,” the judge said, “your attorney says that your current wife has been integral in the raising of your son. Is there a reason she’s not in court with you today?”
“She’s pregnant, your honor.”
“So you’ll have another baby?”
Missy’s attorney stood. “Your honor, we contend that this new family will distract Mr. MacCormack and his wife from Calvin and his health needs.”
“I was the one who slept at his bedside while he was sick, not Missy,” Spence burst out, and stopped when his attorney yanked on his arm. He quieted immediately.
“We’ll agree to the examiner, your honor,” Spence heard his attorney say. What the hell had they just agreed to?
“Fine,” the judge said, hammering down the gavel, “I’ll make my decision after the visit from the agreed-upon examiner, who will determine the validity of the marriage and relationship between Mr. and Mrs. MacCormack.”
Spence’s attorney dragged him out of court, refusing to answer questions until they were in the parking garage. He explained that Missy’s attorney had accused Spence and Olympia of having a marriage of convenience in order to keep Calvin and the trust that had been set up for his son. So a trained psychologist/social worker would determine the appropriateness of the home life as well as whether he and Olympia had a real marriage.
“Darn it, why did you agree to that?”
“Because you were stupid enough to file that damned prenup.”
“We’ll tear it up.”
“It would still be on record. This is just a visit and some questions. Standard stuff... Sort of... I guess.”
“Why am I paying for you again?”
“Because I’ll get you custody of your son and access to his trust.”
“I don’t care about the money. I just want Calvin to be raised right. Missy can’t do it, and you see what a good job her folks did?”
“You said you and your wife are living together, thus creating a home, and that Calvin loves his stepmom. This is nothing.”
It didn’t feel like nothing to Spence, especially since some of those avowals might be stretching the truth. It felt like once again the future of his family was out of his control.
* * *
“AT LEAST IT’S not a surprise visit,” Olympia said, looking around the disordered house.
“There is that.” Calling the ranch house comfortable and homey was the polite way of saying out-of-date and rundown. It looked even shabbier with his what-will-someone-else-see goggles. On the plus side, all the appliances worked. But with his time limited and with Olympia so far along in her pregnancy that it made even dusting difficult, they’d soon need a shovel to deal with the mess.
“So what else besides the visit?”
“They want proof that we’re a ‘real’ couple.”
“I think we can do that. I’ll call you honey.”
“This is serious.”
“I know. I’m sorry. We can do it, though. We’ve been doing it.”
“I guess. Once we’re through the visit and another court appearance, then Missy’s family will stop hounding us. It’s that darned trust.”
“Trust?”
“There’s a trust for Calvin. He’ll get a portion of it at eighteen, then twenty-five, then thirty-five.”
“Oh, my God, they don’t care about him at all, do they? This is all about the money!”
“The money doesn’t matter to Missy’s parents as much as the control it represents. If I have full custody, they won’t be able to use the funds to get Missy or even me to bow to their pressure.”
“Why did you marry this woman? It sounds like a nightmare.”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“You mean you were thinking with your little cowboy—”
“Ha-ha,” he said. Standing this close made him want her despite the seriousness of their discussion. If they were a real couple, he would have acted on what the “little cowboy” wanted. Even when he and Missy were newlyweds, he’d never had this ache to have her like he did Olympia. He wanted her no matter what. In the darkness of their bedroom, they were both able to forget that they were in the marriage for something other than love. He wanted to smooth his hands over her belly and then up to cup her spectacular breasts. She’d always been well-endowed, but now...well, her breasts were stars in a lot of his hot dreams.
She looked at him with a half smile, then turned away. “We’ve got to clean.” She stepped aside and then pressed her hand hard against the side of her belly.
Cold fear snaked through him. Her paleness and the little furrow between her brows worried him. It was the same look she’d had before the last health scare. “What? Are you okay? Do I need to call the doctor?”
She drew in a deep, long breath. “No. It’s those fake contractions. I’m fine. I just need to sit with my feet up for a few minutes, then I’ll get working on the house. I feel so bad that I didn’t keep up. It’s not as if I had anything else to do.”
“Shh,” Spence said, as he led her to their big bed. “Lie down on your side, like the doctor said, and relax. Calvin and I’ll take care of things, and worse comes to worst, Lavonda and Jessie can come.”
“Not Jessie. She hates cleaning,” she said softly, curling around her belly, her forehead still creased. He didn’t like that.
“If you feel worse, if you think that there are any problems, we can be at the hospital in twenty minutes.”
“If we got there that fast, we’d be breaking the sound barrier,” she said with a small smile.
“Rest.” He just stopped himself from pushing the hair back from her face and kissing her forehead. He walked out of their bedroom, not sure what he should feel. He needed to focus on the next step in the custody case. That way, by the time the visit rolled around, he’d have it all under control.
* * *
AS OLYMPIA TRIED to stretch the kink out of her back, the court-appointed examiner settled himself on the recliner across from the couch where she and Spence had planted themselves. Why hadn’t she let Lavonda help her get the house ready? Because she’d felt so darned useless lately, so she’d stubbornly insisted on doing the cleaning herself. The house would never be a show place, but it was tidy enough, even if she’d killed her back. She pushed her hand against Peanut, who somersaulted again and again.
“Mrs. MacCormack, I have a few standard questions,” said the narrow-shouldered, pinched-mouth man, f
ingers poised over his laptop.
She nodded, and the man began to pepper both her and Spence with question after question. She tried to stay calm and keep in mind what they had gone over to make sure that their stories matched.
“I’m sorry,” Olympia interrupted a long-winded question. “I need to use the...uh...well, you know.” She rocked forward to get enough momentum to stand and hoped that she could waddle fast enough to the bathroom to prevent an accident. Spence gave her an encouraging smile. Or maybe it was a grimace because she was escaping the interrogation.
In the bathroom, she took extra minutes to calm her racing heart and give a pep talk to the round-faced, double-chinned woman in the mirror. Jeez. How had she gotten so huge? Water weight, right? Not that she was vain, but really, the puffer-fish look wasn’t her favorite. Lifting her chin a bit helped.
She made herself open the door. She’d stalled long enough already. She walked with as much dignity as possible with her feet forced into ratty flip-flops. The examiner started in on her as soon as she sat down.
“So how many more children do you plan? And how will you balance that with your career as...?” He trailed off to let her respond.
How had she and Spence decided to answer questions about her career? She tried to glance at him from the corner of her eye without appearing to look toward him. “I’ll be a stay-at-home mom.” She stretched her face into a smile. She hoped it was a smile. From the pinch-faced man’s reaction, she couldn’t be sure.
“And more children?”
“Um, sure?” She pressed her hand against the whirling dervish of a baby. Dear Lord, would she really ever do this again?
“You’re from a big family.”
“Big?”
“I see from the paperwork that you have three siblings.”
“That’s not big.”
“It’s above average. Therefore, it is big.”
Really. This was the guy they had to impress? A man who thought four children were too many for any one family. She opened her mouth to tell him that he needed to find a new dictionary when she heard a horsey snort from nearby. Like in the house. Shi...sheets. Could Lavonda have forgotten to close the pens this morning? A loud clop sounded from the kitchen. What the—?