by Kaitlyn Rice
She felt glad.
She stopped in the middle of buttoning her jeans, and sank down on the cellar bench. How was it possible that she could be glad? She’d let herself surrender to a desire she’d resisted from the moment she met Jack four years ago.
No, that was wrong.
She hadn’t surrendered this afternoon, she had led the march into battle. And the total rush to oblivion she’d felt down here could be nothing but a victory. She’d never experienced it before.
She’d always thought her ex-husband was right when he told her she was too controlled to enjoy sex. She’d enjoyed it just now, though.
It was hard to imagine never allowing herself this feeling again. It was hard to imagine even looking at Jack without blushing as pink as a tea rose and wanting to repeat the whole thing over and over.
Now, all her dogged resistance just seemed silly. What had happened was a natural part of life. They were adults.
She tugged the band off her braid and worked her fingers through to the ends of her hair. She didn’t have a mirror to check, and she didn’t want Sharon to notice anything amiss.
She wanted this development between her and Jack to remain private. It was nobody else’s business.
As she rebraided her hair, she tried to sort out her feelings. She already felt affection for Jack, but the experience they’d shared down here was powerful. She knew it had brought them closer, and her emotions were teetering between joy and confusion.
Her feelings for him were deepening, but a physical relationship could complicate her ability to fight for Wyatt later. Eventually, Jack would return to his other women and his other life.
In the meantime, keeping her feelings secret seemed to provide her with one last vestige of safety.
She wrapped the band around the end of her braid, which she tossed over her shoulder, then checked her clothes one last time.
Before she left the cellar, she looked down into the box of infant clothes still on the floor. Tenderly, she tucked the soft pink sleeve of a sleeper back inside. She folded the lid across the top and returned the box to the shelf.
Someday she’d come back down here and look through it again. She would study each item and try to remember everything she could about the twins’ birth and their first few months of life.
She’d think of some anecdotes she could tell, about what they were like as infants.
And as soon as they could understand, she would begin to tell them a lifetime of very special stories about her sister, and their mother.
MORNING WAS FINALLY HERE. Even before Jack opened his eyes, he felt an energy stirring him to action. Today he would talk to Abby. Today their future could begin.
He sprang out of bed, grabbed his robe and darted down the hall to shower. The house was oddly quiet. The twins weren’t babbling in the kitchen, and Abby wasn’t bustling around doing a hundred different things at once. He must have gotten up before them.
It was truly a rare day.
Even though he was anxious to get everything out in the open, he took his time with grooming. He shaved with hot lather and a razor, and used his best cologne. Then he spent ten minutes trying to tame his hair with a comb and styling gel while he rehearsed his speech in the mirror.
He’d tell Abby that she’d blown him away, down in that cellar, and that he was excited about the changes. He was ready for something more.
Returning to his room, he dressed with care, too. Just jeans, he decided, since he’d want to help her deliver baskets today. But he chose nice ones that he knew fit well. And he picked out a tan shirt that the salesgirl had said brought out the light in his eyes.
After he finished, he roamed around the house, trying to be patient and listen for sounds coming from upstairs. The rehung curtains were still tightly drawn across the window, and the two upstairs doors were latched shut. There were no sounds of his family waking.
His family—that sounded good. And right. And except for Abby, it had always been the truth. He’d simply never thought of them that way before.
Since they nearly always started their day in the kitchen, he went there to wait. The sunny room, usually brimming with activity, was calm and tidy this morning.
Every basket, ribbon and jar from yesterday had been assembled, tied and boxed. By late last night, it had all been loaded into Abby’s truck.
No wonder she was sleeping late. She’d been working hard, and it was time for a break. He’d make sure she had a phenomenal time at the party Saturday night.
He’d make sure she had a phenomenal time every night—if she’d let him.
Since he was up first, he decided to make coffee and breakfast for the two of them. He pulled eggs and cheese from the refrigerator, hoping she liked omelettes.
As he opened a cabinet to pull out a skillet, he grinned at Abby’s big kettle, already scrubbed to a shine and replaced on the shelf.
Neglecting his work yesterday afternoon had resulted in a time of great discovery for him. The only thing that hadn’t truly surprised him was Abby’s scorching response.
He’d suspected she’d be a passionate lover, and she hadn’t let him down. She made love with the same vigor she brought to everything else. She was incredible.
But she’d seemed quieter than usual after they returned to the kitchen, and she’d asked him to take care of the twins so she and Sharon could keep working. Later, he’d put the babies to bed while Sharon helped Abby work out her delivery schedule and invoice receipts.
It was only then that they’d pulled the truck around to the side of the house to load it under the post light in the driveway, then returned to the kitchen to clean up.
Abby had been so exhausted she’d gone up to bed immediately after Sharon left at midnight. Jack wouldn’t allow himself to follow her upstairs and pound on her door, no matter how much he wanted to, so he hadn’t been alone with her since the cellar.
Today, before anything else happened, they would talk.
When he finally heard noises upstairs, he started across the house to help her with the twins. But she’d carried them halfway down the stairs by the time he got there.
And she still looked exhausted.
“Hello,” he said brightly, taking Wyatt.
“’Lo,” she mumbled.
He followed her back to the kitchen, frowning at her silence. Usually, she talked to the babies almost constantly.
After the twins were in their high chairs and eating, he set a cup of coffee on the table in front of her and said, “I’m making omelettes. You interested?”
“Omelettes?” she asked, wincing as she sipped the coffee.
“Omelettes,” he repeated. “I must still owe you a meal.”
She shrugged, set the coffee down and continued feeding the twins.
Jack stood over the stove, starting to cook. Since she was quiet, he decided to begin the conversation he’d had a hundred times in his head. “We never talked about what happened yesterday in the cellar.”
He glanced back at Abby, but she just kept spooning food into the babies’ mouths. He returned his attention to the eggs. “I know we had an agreement, but—”
“Shh,” she interrupted. “There’s no need for an apology. I was the one who broke the agreement.”
An apology?
He scowled down at the eggs. He’d thought what had happened in the cellar was one of the most amazing moments in his life, and he wasn’t planning to apologize. He started to tell her that, but Wyatt squealed and bounced in his seat, and of course Abby had to devote her attention to the babies.
As soon as Wyatt was calm, Jack said, “We need to talk about what happened down there.”
“I guess we do,” she said, just as the doorbell rang.
He turned off the burner and scowled across the room at Abby, wishing whoever it was would just go away.
It rang again, and this time the tones sounded loud and long, as if the person outside was leaning against the buzzer.
As Jack strode thr
ough the hall to the foyer, he grumbled at the audacity of anyone showing up on a person’s doorstep at this hour. Apparently, a man couldn’t even get privacy if he moved out to the sticks these days.
“What time is it, anyway?” he hollered back at Abby as he yanked the door open.
“Nine-thirty,” yelled Abby, from the kitchen.
“Nine-thirty,” said Zuzu, from the front porch.
He stared at his eccentric ex-girlfriend, who appeared to be wearing a rhinestone-studded sheet.
“Hello, Jack,” she said. “How are you?”
He frowned and shook his head. Zuzu’s timing was usually much better. “Zuzu,” he sighed. “I know I left a message on your machine awhile back, but this is a horrendous time to pay a visit.”
She patted his cheek as she stepped through the door. “You are definitely a Leo, aren’t you?” she said. “Still so busy you can’t keep track of your social calendar?”
“Huh?” He held an arm out to block her path. There was no need for Abby to meet another of his ex-girlfriends, ever.
But especially not now.
“Oh, my gosh,” said Abby from behind him in the hall. “I forgot about Zuzu’s visit.”
He dropped his arm and turned around. Abby had been listening. And she seemed to know Zuzu. Or at least she knew about this visit. And she was clearly agitated.
“I need to deliver baskets,” she said in a shaky voice. “I’ll be gone most of the day.”
She sprinted up the stairs before he could stop her.
“Do you and Abby know each other?” he asked Zuzu as she fluttered past him into the house.
“Only in the sense of a shared sisterhood.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. Zuzu knew he hated her cryptic comments.
“We met over the phone,” Zuzu explained. “Did you make me breakfast?” She dropped her gaze and lifted the corners of her mouth.
That was when Jack realized he’d brought along the omelette pan. He snorted, already heading for the kitchen.
And when he got there, he realized Abby had left Wyatt and Rosie in their high chairs.
They didn’t seem very happy about it, either.
He tossed the still-hot pan of eggs in the sink, used a handful of paper towels to wipe most of the food off the twins’ fingers and mouths, and carried them both back out to find Abby and explain.
By the time he reached the main hallway, Abby was standing near the front door, and Zuzu was comfortable on the sofa.
“I was planning to help you deliver those baskets,” he said on his way across to Abby.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “And anyway, who’d baby-sit if you came with me? You’ll have fun.”
Suddenly she sounded awake and cheerful.
She grabbed her clipboard from a side table and reached up to peck all three of them on the cheek. Including him.
It was an unthinking gesture, as if they’d said years of goodbyes—except he would never let her get away with such an innocuous kiss. He would always want their goodbyes to be every bit as passionate as their hellos.
He considered putting the babies down to show her that, but instead simply stared into her face, trying to send one of those secret messages. Don’t leave me now. I need to tell you something.
She backed out the door and all the way to the edge of the porch before whirling around and vanishing around the corner of the house.
After she’d gone, he turned and glared at Zuzu. She was standing in the doorway to the living room.
“She’s adorable, Jack,” she said solemnly.
Sighing, he strode back into the house and put Wyatt on the floor near the sofa.
“She is, isn’t she?” he said. He sat down on the sofa with Rosie on his lap, smiling at the little girl as he bounced her on his knees.
Zuzu picked up the wandering Wyatt and reclaimed her spot at the other end of the couch. “When did you realize you were in love with her?”
Jack looked across at Zuzu, startled.
She must have been talking about Abby, not Rosie.
And was he in love?
Probably.
He scowled. “Yesterday, I guess.”
“Why doesn’t she know?”
“I haven’t had the chance to tell her,” he said. “We’ve had too many dam—dang interruptions.”
Zuzu swung Wyatt in the air above her head, imitating the drone of an airplane. “Don’t tell her over a pan of eggs,” she advised. “Wait for a romantic moment to woo her. I’d hate to see you warp your destiny with bad karma.”
Jack turned his attention back to Rosie, but Zuzu had surprised him again. He’d always considered her a harmless kook, but she was making perfect sense now.
Abby was seeming more and more like his destiny.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ABBY HAD NEARLY driven past the entrance to Sharon’s sprawling ranch house before she remembered she was supposed to pick her up on the way into town.
Even then she considered speeding on by.
She’d love to forget her load of baskets and travel down some country road until she was lost, just to give herself time to sort out her feelings.
Yesterday’s mixture of sensuality and tenderness had been confusing enough, but seeing another of Jack’s girlfriends had hurt. The revolving door hadn’t just whacked her this time, it had scraped right across her bones.
As if Jack had ripped the wheel out of her hands to make the turn, she swerved into Sharon’s drive at the last minute. Abby still had to deliver the baskets, and Sharon didn’t deserve to be ignored.
Maybe a busy day away from the farm would help Abby put things into perspective. She’d work so hard she couldn’t think about what he was doing with Zuzu.
“I thought Jack was coming along to help,” Sharon said as soon as she slid into the passenger seat.
Abby reached for the ignition. “He’s baby-sitting.”
Sharon put her hand on Abby’s, stopping her from turning the key. “Oh, but surely your mother would watch the babies, if Jack wants to come along.”
Abby stared at a pot of mums beside Sharon’s front door. “He has a visitor,” she said quietly.
“A woman?”
Abby could feel herself being scrutinized, so she nodded.
When her friend didn’t comment, she started the truck. She tuned the radio to soft rock, turned up the volume and drove straight to town, determined to forget about Jack.
But as she and Sharon delivered baskets, Abby felt his touch everywhere. Each time she lifted a box her clothes chafed her tender breasts, and each step she took brought a sweet, fluid ache to her thighs.
By the third delivery into a very heavy schedule, Abby realized work wasn’t helping her escape this time. She felt languid and off-kilter, and she couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened down in that cellar.
She had just parked in front of a gourmet food store and picked up her clipboard, intent on finishing her chores anyway, when Sharon’s hand slammed down on top of hers.
Abby frowned across the seat, and realized Sharon was nodding toward the storefronts.
There was an exclusive ladies’ apparel store next to the food shop, and a banner in the window announced a gigantic pre-holiday clearance sale.
“Let’s take a break and shop for our dresses,” Sharon said as she got out. “We’ll finish delivering later.”
Abby stared at the mannequins in the window display. She had said she would go to the party with Jack, but surely things had changed. Even if Zuzu’s visit hadn’t altered his plans, the incident in the cellar had certainly changed things for her.
It was too risky. If she walked into that party on Jack’s arm, some members of her community might start pairing them up. The farm would become “Jack and Abby’s place.” Invitations would be issued to the two of them.
Expectations would grow.
And the worst thing was, Abby would wish the gossip were true.
Sharon was already pulling open
the shop door and beckoning with a broad sweep of her hand. “Come on,” she called. “It’ll be fun.”
Abby sighed. Sharon’s acceptance of her frantic pace and brooding mood today had been big-hearted. She’d been a trouper, and Abby had promised she would help her shop for a dress. She dropped the clipboard and got out.
As she entered the shop, she looked around curiously.
She’d never let herself venture into this sort of place, figuring her style ran more to discount stores and department store clearance racks, at best.
These clothes were gorgeous. As she and Sharon browsed toward the back, they passed rows and rows of exquisite and trendy styles. Before long, Sharon disappeared behind a pair of swinging doors with an armful of dresses, and Abby waited near a floor-length mirror so she could offer a yea or nay when Sharon came out to model each one.
A silver-haired saleslady handed Abby a hanger holding a strappy bit of material in ripe-tomato-red. Abby shook her head and handed it back. “This isn’t her size,” she said. “But thanks, anyway. It’s wonderful.”
The woman forced it back into her hands. “No, it’s for you,” she said. “Your friend said you needed something special, for a party.”
“I doubt that I’m even going,” Abby said, but she held the dress out to admire it, and couldn’t help smiling a little as she imagined Jack’s reaction to her wearing it.
The woman smiled back. “This dress is classically designed. It would work for any festive event.”
“Oh! No, thanks.” Abby hung the dress on a rack and stepped away. She couldn’t let herself think about going to the party.
It was a horrible idea.
Sharon came out wearing a sparkling sea-green sheath that left her ample bosom spilling out the top. “Try on that dress,” she said with her usual grin as she splayed a hand over her exposed chest and looked in the mirror. “For fun.”
“Oh, do! Just for fun,” urged the clerk, clapping her hands almost gleefully.
Abby crossed her arms and stared at Sharon. Once again her friend seemed to be cheering for the wrong team.