“Yes, but we both agreed to stay on our sides of the bed. And—”
“And we’re not going to be able to ignore this thing between us,” he said softly as he stroked her cheek.
It would be easier to ignore a tornado passing down their street. “I agree.”
“So what do we do?” He caressed a path down her neck to the valley between her breasts.
“Separate beds?”
His pained expression was almost comical. “That wasn’t quite what I had in mind.”
“Maybe you should spell it out. So there’s no misunderstanding.”
His gaze grew intent. “You know what I want. Before you say anything, I’d like to remind you of your own statement. ‘We should begin as we mean to go on.’ As a warning, though—if we proceed, we can’t go back.”
Lori had planned to surround Mac with love in the belief that it would return to her. Now she wondered if withholding the best expression of that love would only delay the very thing she hoped to achieve.
“Then I suppose I should follow my own suggestion,” she said softly.
His grin was filled with pure male satisfaction as he lowered his mouth to hers.
Lori had never complained about his kisses. They’d always generated enough power to curl her toes and melt her knees. This one, however, was different. It was as if he’d been holding himself back all along.
Dimly, she was glad she was lying down because she simply couldn’t have stood under his onslaught. He touched her as gently and carefully as if she were made of hand-blown glass, taking his time to search out every sensitive spot on her body.
His mouth trailed down her neck until he reached the hollow at the base of her throat. Her skin overheated as his fingers deftly untied the peignoir and slid it off her shoulders. The skimpy lace nightgown didn’t stand a chance. It disappeared just as fast until minutes later she lay bared to his hungry gaze.
If only she’d been thinking and had asked for him to turn off the bedside lamp. The light wasn’t particular strong, but it was bright enough for him to see the imperfections that childbearing and age had left.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured. Without waiting for her reply, he continued from where he’d left off.
Lori ran her hands along his long, lean form, reveling in the feel of his hard muscles under her fingertips. They fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle.
Each stroke of her hand seemed to generate as much a response in him as his touch created in her. Before long, the gentleness they shared gave way to a fierce eagerness that demanded release.
She was ready. More than ready. “Please, Mac,” she moaned. He’d created such a need inside her that she simply couldn’t wait any longer. “Now.”
At her plea, he didn’t hesitate. He slid inside her and the sensations that had been building coalesced into a single, earth-shattering explosion.
Later, after the tremors had subsided and she lay snuggled against him, she completely changed her honeymoon plans. Unpacking and reorganizing had dropped to the bottom of her list.
The next few weeks brought small changes to their routine. Susannah’s babysitting arrangement continued although she now looked after two children instead of one. Mac went to the hospital at the same time so he could either take on the early surgical cases or complete his paperwork. He left the later ones for Josh who, being single, preferred coming to work later in the morning. Barring an emergency, Mac would arrive home by late afternoon, or at least early evening.
After dinner and homework, Lori usually organized a family activity to fill the hours until bedtime. While it did her heart good to hear Mac say to Corey and Ronnie “I love you” when he made the rounds with her to tuck them in at night, she still waited to hear those words addressed to her.
Be patient, she told herself. After clinging to a belief that he’d never love again for eight long years, it would take longer than a few weeks to change his thinking. Although she hoped for a miracle, she took it one day at a time.
Her relationship with Mac wasn’t the only thing she had to take one day at a time. Brad Westmann, who wasn’t Mr Congeniality on the best of days, was still the proverbial thorn in Lori’s side. His surly attitude hadn’t improved, although poor Talia had borne the brunt of it.
“I heard Brad’s probation got extended,” Talia announced on Wednesday.
“Yeah, but he is allowed to handle some cases alone,” Lori explained. “Mac and Josh still make a point to drop in on him during his procedures. It’s going to be a while before they let him take call again.”
She grinned. “Speaking as a newlywed, I wish they would. I wouldn’t mind if Mac was home a few extra evenings.”
“I’ll bet. You’ve made him a new man.”
“Don’t be silly,” Lori said, although she was flattered by the compliment.
“I’m serious. He’s more approachable. Why, he asked the other day if I had plans for Thanksgiving. Until then, I didn’t know he even realized that we still celebrated the holiday.”
Lori laughed. “He has changed a little.”
“More than a little. Aren’t you glad the school has their ‘Donuts for Dads’ and ‘Muffins for Moms’ program?”
“More than you’ll ever know.”
“Would you mind cutting the small talk and paying attention to what you’re here for?” Brad interrupted in a hard tone.
“There’s not a lot we can do until a patient arrives,” Lori said, although his condescending manner irritated her. He wasn’t her superior, so he had no right to issue orders anyway.
“If you have time to gossip, then you have too much time on your hands.”
“We weren’t gossiping,” Talia protested.
“Oh, yeah? Or were you comparing notes on the next complaint you intend to file on me?”
“We weren’t discussing you at all.”
“Of course not.” He sounded sarcastic. “You save that to tell the boss at night.”
Lori bristled. “I beg your pardon. We have better things to discuss than hospital staff.”
“Yeah, right. As if I’m going to believe you.”
Fortunately for Lori, one of the surgical nurses poked her head in the doorway. “Brad? They’re ready for you in room one. Dr Morrison is waiting.”
He sent Lori a hateful look, then left, pushing the double doors so hard they banged on the walls.
“Whew,” Talia said. “He’s on the warpath today.”
“It must be the stress of staying out of trouble.”
“Either that or we’re finally seeing the hidden side to his personality. Now, enough about him. What are you wearing to the Firemen’s Ball on Saturday?”
“Looks like everyone in town turned out tonight,” Rob remarked as he sat next to Mac at their table in the corner of the town’s convention center. Gail and Lori had taken advantage of the band’s intermission to locate the powder room.
Mac glanced around the huge room. People filled every available space as far as he could see. On the other hand, he hadn’t expected it to be otherwise. The Firemen’s Ball was more than a social gathering for the community. Proceeds from this annual event allowed the fire department to purchase needed equipment above and beyond their budgeted funds. The CairnsIRIS helmet purchased last year, which allowed the wearer to see thermal images, had been instrumental in saving the lives of two victims who’d been trapped inside a burning house. Most people understood how the incident could have ended tragically for the elderly couple, and many were eager to help the department raise money.
“I’ll say.”
“Lori looks pretty tonight,” Rob commented. “New dress?”
Mac shook his head. “She refused to buy one because she claimed she hadn’t worn out the one she already owned.” In actuality, Mac had instructed her to use her salary to pay off Glenn’s remaining debts. Although she hated the idea of not contributing financially to the household, she’d agreed. Now she refused to spend a single penny on any
thing she deemed unnecessary, even if it meant waiting for new clothes. In any case, if being able to write “Paid In Full” on each of Glenn’s IOUs made her happy, then Mac was satisfied.
“Gorgeous and thrifty.” Rob shook his head. “How did you manage that?”
Mac grinned. “Pure luck.”
“I guess. I have to admit, though, marriage definitely agrees with you.”
“I can’t argue. I don’t know how she did it, but my house was just a house until she moved in. Now it seems like a home. Lori is absolutely wonderful.”
Rob slapped him on the back. “I can tell the honeymoon isn’t over yet.”
Mac couldn’t stop the Cheshire-cat grin that spread across his face. After three weeks, he still couldn’t get enough of her. Everything about her—her scent, her soft skin, the way she nestled against him, the breathless sigh she made at the height of their passion—only made him want her more. He would gladly spend the next month with her on a deserted island where nothing and no one could intrude.
“Yup.” Rob nodded vigorously. “From the look on your face, you have it bad.”
Mac stopped daydreaming. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you know? You’re in love. Unless I miss my guess, you’ve got a major case of it.”
He wanted to deny it, but how did one confess that he didn’t love his own wife?
Or did he?
“I’m not sure what I feel for Lori is love,” Mac admitted, watching his friend’s response.
Rob stared at him as if he’d grown two heads. “You’re not sure what you feel is love?” he echoed. “You said for a long time that you’d never love anyone except Elsa, but do you really believe you’d have married Lori if you didn’t love her to some degree?”
Rob’s question hung in the air, giving Mac food for thought. It had taken a long time for him to realize that he loved his son, but he did. Now he loved Ronnie because she was his daughter by marriage. Each night, as he helped Lori tuck them into bed, telling them that he loved them had become a part of the ritual that he didn’t hesitate to perform.
Now he wondered if Lori had been waiting to hear those words every night before they went to sleep. He’d never thought of saying them because he simply couldn’t say what he didn’t know in his heart was true.
“I loved my first wife,” Mac said slowly. “I felt completely different with her than I do with Lori.”
“Of course you did. You were young, met a woman who turned you on and, bingo, instant passion meant you were in love. For a lot of us love sneaks up and catches us unawares. Sometimes it comes with a bang and other times it comes on a whisper.”
Could it possibly be that simple?
The question was, did he want to love her? He’d locked away that emotion to protect himself from heartache, but Lori had shown him how denying his love for his son hadn’t lessened it at all. Was this the lesson he was supposed to learn where she was concerned? Had she breached his defenses without him realizing what she’d done?
Don’t make comparisons. Lori and Elsa are two different people. Liz’s comments at their wedding now surfaced as clearly as if she’d just spoken them in his ear.
It was apparent that he’d been measuring his experience with Lori against his experience with Elsa. In essence, it was almost like weighing the use of benzodiazepines to barbiturates. Both were valuable drugs and vital to patients, but they weren’t alike and weren’t meant to be.
Yet it seemed disloyal to Elsa’s memory to admit that he loved another woman. No wonder Lori had insisted on not consummating their marriage until she knew that he didn’t see her as anyone but herself.
With these new doubts, he needed time to sort out his tangled thoughts. He only hoped that when he did he wouldn’t destroy something precious.
By Sunday evening, Lori was starting to worry. Mac had been preoccupied ever since they’d returned home from the Firemen’s Ball, but he refused to discuss it. She was tempted to call Rob and ask what they’d talked about during their time alone, but she couldn’t summon the courage to do it. It seemed like an invasion of Mac’s privacy.
She’d hoped that after a day holed up in his office he’d have worked through whatever bothered him, but by ten o’clock he didn’t seem in any better spirits.
After crawling into bed beside him, she said softly, “If you want to vent, I don’t mind listening.”
Mac raised up on one arm. “I know. I haven’t been good company today.”
“Everyone’s entitled to quiet time.”
He stroked her face. “You’re very special. You know that, don’t you?”
Lori smiled. “So I hear.”
He kissed her forehead. “If you don’t mind, I’m tired.”
Lori sensed it was more emotional than physical exhaustion, but she didn’t press him. Mac obviously needed to come to terms with whatever bothered him.
“OK. Goodnight. I love you.” She recited the same words she always did. He answered the same way he always did—he simply kissed her.
She clicked off her bedside lamp and fell asleep, only to wake several hours later when Mac began tossing and turning. He mumbled something, but she couldn’t catch what he’d said so she grabbed his shoulder, intending to wake him.
Suddenly, he spoke a name loud and clear. A name that ripped her heart in two.
Elsa.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LORI pulled back her hand, unsure of her next move. Should she wake Mac and ask about his dream, or pretend the incident had never happened? Unfortunately, she wasn’t good at pretending.
Elsa had been a part of Mac’s life, just as Glenn had been a part of hers. It was unreasonable and unrealistic to expect Mac to totally wipe his memories of Elsa from his mind. However, she’d hoped that her love would be enough so that she filled his waking and non-waking moments, not his first wife.
Lori couldn’t lie beside him, fearing that he’d turn to her with visions of another woman inside his head. This had been her concern when he’d proposed to her and she’d foolishly believed his reassurances on their wedding night because he’d told her what she’d wanted to hear. Now the truth had finally come out—no matter what she did to turn his house into a home, how she mothered his son or how much she loved him—she couldn’t break Elsa’s hold.
Knowing she’d have to start her day in less than an hour, she slipped off the mattress, grabbed her robe and headed for the sofa. The colorful afghan she’d knitted last winter became her blanket, the armrest her pillow.
Lying there, she thought about her life. For the past month or more she’d been encouraged by Mac’s eagerness to spend his rare hours of free time with her rather than hibernating in his den, catching up on paperwork. They’d attended plays, seen movies and gone for the occasional dinner for two. She’d charted real progress by those actions and had believed that it couldn’t be long until he realized that what he felt was love.
Obviously, the notion had been wishful thinking on her part.
She shouldn’t be angry at him for never saying the words—he’d warned her that it would never happen. Instead of paying heed, she’d ignored that warning. She’d planted hope and watered it with her own love, hoping to duplicate the feelings he’d experienced before, but she’d failed. She should have treated their marriage as he obviously had—an arrangement to benefit their children, with great sex thrown in as a perk. She’d given her heart to him alone, but he obviously didn’t want it.
Now what should she do?
Mac turned over and reached for Lori, but her side of the bed was cold. He glanced at the clock, wondering if he’d overslept, but it was fifteen minutes before the time Lori usually rose.
With the remnants of his dream still haunting him, he padded out of the room in search of Lori’s comforting reality, only to find her curled up on the sofa.
“Lori?” he asked. “It’s six o’clock.”
She shot straight up. “Oh. Wow.” She finger-combed her hair out of her
face. “Good thing you woke me. I don’t want to be late.”
This was the first time he’d slept apart from her since their marriage, and he didn’t like seeing her anywhere but next to him. “Are you sick?”
“No.”
“Then what are you doing out here?”
She clutched her robe tightly around her as she stood. “You were having trouble sleeping. I didn’t want to disturb you, so I left.”
Her explanation didn’t make sense. “If I was tossing and turning, you should have woken me instead of leaving yourself.”
“It’s no big deal. Forget it.”
The way Lori avoided his gaze told him that it was a big deal and he immediately grew wary. “What’s wrong?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because you’re upset.”
“It’s nothing. You were just talking in your sleep.”
“I was?” If he’d repeated part of his conversation with Rob, then he was sunk.
“You only said one thing. A name, actually.”
He prayed he’d uttered Lori’s name, but she wouldn’t have reacted this strongly if he had. “And?”
“You were dreaming of Elsa.”
Reality was slowly turning into a nightmare. “Yes, but—”
“I have to get ready or I’ll be late.” She turned to leave, but Mac grabbed her arm.
“I don’t care if you’re late,” he said tersely. “We need to talk.”
“Like we talked after the Firemen’s Ball when something bothered you? Or the way we talked yesterday, when you spent the day brooding?”
“I had to deal with some issues.”
“Well, now it’s my turn.” He released her, but he couldn’t start the day this way. Without hesitating, he followed her into the bedroom and watched as she walked toward the master bathroom.
“It was a weird dream,” he told her. “That’s all.”
“I’m sure it was, but I can’t deal with this right now. I’m sorry.” She walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
The set to her jaw cautioned him to give her a few minutes alone. He would have preferred storming the room, but he didn’t want to go to work with a black eye from a well-thrown bar of soap.
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