She walked off, heading toward her room, and he followed. A slight twinge of remembrance of the woman he’d married twenty years earlier surfaced, but then he remembered she hadn’t loved him for the last eighteen years. He didn’t know what had happened; she’d just turned bitter and unresponsive.
“So,” he asked, strolling into the bedroom behind her. She started undressing. “How do you want to handle this?”
“Handle what?” Her voice was low and controlled. No signs of her previous ill-mannered mood a few nights ago.
“The divorce,” he replied. “Are we going to do this the easy way, or are you going to draw it out into a time-consuming battle?”
“I have no intention to divorce you, Ben.”
Narrowing his eyes, he shook his head in disbelief. “Why not, Sheila? You don’t love me. Hell, you don’t even like me. Why would you want to prolong this any longer? What do you want from me?”
Turning slowly, she approached him, walking seductively. She discarded her clothes at his feet. Her hand touched his shoulder, then followed his arm to his hand, leading him back to her bed.
Why was she doing this? It’d been sixteen years. Why now? He couldn’t help the feelings that soared through his body the moment she’d taken his hand. He hadn’t been with anyone in so long, he wasn’t even sure he could, though.
“No,” he said, his willpower soaring to life. “It’s been sixteen years, and you think that’s enough. Once in sixteen years, Sheila? Whose bed have you been sleeping in? Or was I so bad you couldn’t stand to be with me. Or better yet, do you want to get pregnant again and have another child you’ll refuse your love as you did with Tyler and me?”
She slapped him. “How dare you? How dare you question my love when you were having an affair?”
He stepped back from her, lifting his hand to his cheek. His cheek stung, but not nearly as much as the burning hatred inside of him. “I could have you arrested you know.”
She raised her brow. “Go ahead. I’ll tell them you were trying to rape me.”
He knew it was true. Who would believe him? She was tall, not much shorter than he was, but he was a man. He’d be the laughing stock of the police department.
“Sheila, I had one affair over sixteen years ago, and it was only because you hadn’t touched me in forever. What did you expect?”
“You were having an affair longer than that. You wanted her from the first time you’d seen her. You withdrew from me long before you started sleeping with her.”
He sighed deeply. “I broke it off. I stayed with you for the last sixteen years. I haven’t had any relations with her since you told me you were pregnant or any other woman for that matter.”
“But you have, Ben, don’t you see? You moved us here to be near her, you take us to that god-awful restaurant practically every night so you can watch her from the balcony. You’re still in love with her. How can I allow you to touch me when you’re in love with another woman?”
She moved toward him again, this time pressing her body against his. She ran her fingers across his chest, then intertwined them in his hair. “You do want me, I know that, but can you choose me over her, once and for all?”
He struggled with his body’s reaction; they were automatic responses, not love. He did want her, but only because it had been so long. If he gave in now, he’d be cheating on Caycee, and he had to make her see how much he loved her. She’d told him it was over…that it was too late, but it couldn’t be too late. She’d not found another lover because deep down she still loved him. He just had to make her realize.
Placing his hands on Sheila’s chest, he pushed her away. “I want a divorce,” he said and turned away, leaving the room to return to his study alone. He locked the door behind him.
He needed to see Caycee.
Chapter Nineteen
(Caycee)
Caycee bolted upright as a loud screech pierced her ears.
When she realized it was the little egg-looking thing on the bedside table, she grabbed it. It stopped squawking immediately, but her heart thrashed against her chest. She’d never used an alarm clock. She had no reason to get out of bed at a specific time.
Jordan turned over, his eyes still shuttered. “You only snoozed Bob; he’s gonna go off again,” he grumbled.
“Bob?” she mumbled.
He opened one eye, peering up at her. “You named it… Turn it off, please. I didn’t sleep much. I’m exhausted.” He turned over, pulling the pillow over his head.
She stared at the egg-creature named Bob. Jaynee named her alarm clock? That was just weird, and she’d made another gaffe. It was only five a.m. What in the heck was wrong with that woman?
She rolled out of bed, taking the creature with her, not sure how to disarm it. Jaynee had said Jordan slept until at least six, but she was to wake him if he slept past seven.
Johanna was the first child she had to wake up, and then she was supposed to wake Justin when she was through with her shower. Jacob and Jeremy took their showers at night, so she just needed to remember to wake them by six thirty, if Jordan didn’t wake them when he got up…if he got up.
Her next job was to make coffee, which was her simplest task. Brewing coffee was the one domestic task she could handle.
When Jordan strolled into the kitchen at quarter to seven, it was clear he’d already taken a shower. He filled his coffee cup, grabbed two muffins out of the freezer, popped them into the microwave for twenty seconds, and then gulped one down on the spot. So Jaynee had started him on the muffin routine as well. How cute. She turned back to the sink to rinse out the older twins cereal dishes.
“We’re almost out,” were the first words out of his mouth, but then he grabbed her from behind, nuzzling his head into her neck. “Tonight,” he whispered, “I’ll be home early. I love you. Have a good day.”
“I love you too.” She turned to see his expression, but he’d already opened the front door. Had he said, tonight as a separate sentence or as a reminder of her promise last night and then added in the fact he would be home early. Or if he’d meant, Tonight, I’ll be home early.
The older set of twins tromped back into the kitchen at seven-thirty. “Mommm…” Johanna whined. “I’m ready. Dad made us late, and I don’t want to be tardy again.”
“Are you tattling on your father?” she asked, suddenly remembering how her father had always hated tattletales. The reason she could never inform him how her stepbrothers and stepmother had abused her.
Johanna planted her hands on her hips. She was like a little old lady in a twelve-year-old body. Caycee couldn’t help but think how much she reminded her of herself when she was that age. “Yes… He always complains about us not doing what we’re supposed to, but when you’re not around, he falls apart.”
Caycee cocked her head, finding that hard to believe. Jordan had always seemed like the most well-rounded man she’d ever known. He’d repeatedly mentioned on the ride from the airport how much he appreciated her, but she figured he’d been saying what Jaynee would have wanted to hear. Did he really need her, rather Jaynee, too? “I doubt that.”
“It’s true, Mom,” Justin joined in. The boy had hardly said two words yesterday, but now he was willing to tattle on his father as well. “When you leave, he mopes around, he barely even eats. And we certainly don’t eat well. Jeremy said you plan to make enchiladas tonight?”
She smiled, amazed at the ease of satisfying these kids. She merely had to cook for them, love them, and take them to practice, and they were content. “That was the plan.”
“Awesome,” he replied, following Johanna out the door.
Jacob and Jeremy came bounding down the stairs.
“Let’s go, boys, don’t want you to be late again.” Caycee held the door as they donned their backpacks and grabbed their lunch boxes off the kitchen island.
“Ooooh…Dad’s gonna be madddd… Jo squealed on him.” Jeremy chuckled with delight. Obviously pleased someone else would be in troubl
e.
***
After dropping the kids off at school, she drove onto an empty dirt lot a few blocks away to call Jaynee. It wasn’t that she wanted to leave; she had to leave. Jordan would not take no for an answer tonight, and every day she spent with her new family would make it harder when she had to leave.
There’d been no answer on her mobile, so she tried the house. Again, no answer, even the recorder hadn’t picked up.
She decided to go shopping; the least she could do was make the enchiladas. If Jaynee called her and scheduled a flight, she’d be happy to know she wouldn’t have to prepare dinner. But there had been no return calls or messages all day.
She picked the kids up at three, and after getting them to do their homework, she tried calling again. No answer on either line.
Now she waited, not sure what to do. Jordan would be home any minute. She went upstairs after making a quick decision. She blocked her number and called Ben. No answer and she decided not to leave a message. She quickly cleared the number from her phone’s memory and started back downstairs.
As she reached the final step, Jordan strolled in. His face turned up as soon as he saw her. “Smells good,” he commented casually. “And you look great, as always.”
“I thought you didn’t like southwestern food,” she teased.
He rolled his eyes, sighing. “I like it. Sure beats what I make. I just don’t like it as much as you and the kids. It must be the Portuguese blood in you.” He laughed, pulling up in front of her, blocking her from descending the final step. They were basically the same height with her standing on the first step. “So, how you feeling today?” His eyes asked the question his words hadn’t.
“Physically or mentally?” Obviously, Jaynee had disclosed her melancholy to Jordan. Feelings she hadn’t confessed to her when she’d asked.
“Both,” he retorted.
“I feel great mentally. Happiest I’ve felt in years actually.” It was the truth. She stared deep into his eyes, something she couldn’t do in the darkness of the bedroom last night.
“Physically though…you still don’t feel well?”
“No,” she said, looking down at her feet. It wasn’t the truth, and she was afraid he’d see right through her. In fact, she hadn’t felt as healthy as she did today in years. It must have been the sleep, she realized. When she’d finally fallen asleep, she’d slept like the dead last night. She couldn’t remember waking up even once. She felt so safe sleeping next to Jordan.
“Hmm,” he said.
She decided to take evasive action and change the subject. “Dinner’s ready! The kids have been waiting patiently. They said you starved them, forced them to eat horrible pre-packaged dinners, and made them late to school.”
Jordan shook his head, forcing a smile. “She’s such a traitor.”
Caycee smiled and bounded toward the kitchen, then remembered she was supposed to be under the weather. Jordan followed behind her and reached into the cupboard pulling out six dishes. He set them by the stovetop and went on to retrieve silverware while she removed the casserole dish from the oven.
“Dinner’s ready,” Jordan yelled up the stairs, proceeding to serve himself several large scoops of rice and two enchiladas. He reached into the fridge and pulled out the sour cream. He sure acted as if he was self-sufficient. He didn’t request anything. He helped with the dishes and served himself dinner. He walked into the dining room and sat at the end of the table. Was he upset, or was this normal?
She dished out a little rice, one enchilada, grabbed a Diet Coke, and sat beside him, hoping beyond hope she’d sat in the correct chair. Jordan was just sitting there as though he were waiting for something. Johanna and Justin strolled in with their dishes, and then Jacob followed a few seconds later.
Jeremy was last and he walked in with a scowl on his face. “Aww… It’s not Sunday dinner. Why can’t we watch the Simpsons?”
“Sit down, Jeremy,” Jordan growled.
Jeremy sat and Jordan lowered his head, the kids following promptly. “Dear Lord, thank you for this food and everything you’ve given us. Please help our family to be content and happy with everything you’ve provided. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
She wasn’t sure if Jordan was directing his prayer at Jeremy, her, or himself, but she felt his prayer held a deeper meaning than just giving thanks.
It was clear from Jeremy’s complaint that dinner in the dining room was an unusual occurrence. Jaynee had mentioned that they normally just sat around the coffee table in the family room, but she was adamant on the fact that they’d always sat down for dinner together, as a family. Jordan insisted on it.
The evening went by quickly, and before Caycee knew it, it was time for bed again. Where had the day gone? Where was Jaynee? How in the world was she going to keep Jordan at bay tonight when she wanted nothing but for him to hold her?
She took her phone with her again to the bathroom and chanced another call. Still nothing. What in the world was Jaynee doing? Had she really not been happy? She couldn’t imagine it; everyone seemed perfectly content. Did Jaynee want her to stay?
When she exited the bathroom, Jordan was in bed already, as the night before. Only this time he wasn’t reading, and he didn’t have the light on. She closed the door behind her. He said nothing as she crawled onto her side of the bed.
“Jordan?”
“Yes, Jaynee?”
She could hear the frustration in his voice; the door was definitely a sign. He could tell nothing was going to happen tonight. She couldn’t very well ask him to kiss her again, as much as she wanted him to kiss her. It would be leading him on. Rolling away from her, he punched his pillow up under his head, sighing.
She moved up behind him. She could do something. She lowered the comforter and moved her hand across his back. She heard a low groan of satisfaction from the back of his throat. He liked his back scratched. She scratched his entire back then, happy to do anything to make him feel better, to make him understand how much she loved him.
The movement was so sudden it took her by surprise. So caught up in pleasing him in such a small way, she was surprised to find him turned over and on top of her before she could even object. His mouth was hard on hers as his hands moved over her. He wasn’t asking anymore, he was coercing. He didn’t breathe a word and attempted nothing. He just worked to please her. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest that she was positive he could hear it.
How could he make her feel like this? She’d never felt this way. Well, never wasn’t entirely correct. Not since the last time she’d been with him, their third date when he told her he loved her, but refused to make love to her until she gave him everything that was in her, heart and soul.
She wanted to give him everything now. She was Jaynee, deep down they were the same. If she didn’t give in, Jordan wouldn’t understand. If she did submit to him, Jaynee wouldn’t. Jaynee had told her she would hogtie her and drag her behind her truck. But Jaynee wasn’t answering; Jaynee wasn’t here where she should be. She was Jaynee; they were the same. They had the same blood, the same scars.
Caycee melted under Jordan’s touch, giving into his kiss. She was certain he felt the change in her actions, because he suddenly became even more passionate. His mouth left hers, only to move to her ear. “I want you, Jaynee.”
He used his mouth as a guide, trailing a path of heat along her jaw, under her chin, and over her collarbone. He lifted her shirt as he pressed his mouth back to her lips. His lips moved greedily, whispering to her between kisses as his strong hands gently caressed her. She couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it didn’t matter; she wanted him fiercely. She’d made a terrible mistake long ago and now she had a reprieve. If she had only this one time to be with him and then disappear forever, she’d take it.
“Jordan,” she whispered breathlessly, her body arching in response to his hands.
He moved his lips to her ear again, his warm breath caressing her neck. “Yes, my love?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” His body moved expertly over her in seconds, but he didn’t go right for the main act. He teased her and tempted her until she practically begged him to take her. She’d been so hesitant and now she beseeched him while he seemed to take pleasure in her entreaty.
When she could no longer wait, she directed him to exactly where she wanted him. The dance lasted almost an hour until Jordan, seemingly satisfied with his performance, knowing he’d pleased her in every way based on her quiet shrieks of ecstasy, collapsed beside her.
Releasing a contented sigh, she realized she was the happiest she’d ever been, and yet, she felt as though she’d betrayed him. Tears slid down her face, but she did everything she could to retain the tiny gasps emanating from her throat. He leaned over her, but then moved away quickly. The light came on, and she cringed at the unwelcoming brightness.
“Jaynee…You’re crying again? What on God’s earth is the matter with you?”
She covered her face, burying her head in the pillow. “I’m happy,” she answered honestly.
“You’re crying ’cause you’re happy? After all these years? You haven’t cried ’cause you were happy in forever. Something’s not right,” he said, pulling her hand away from her face. “Something’s wrong, Jaynee, and you’d better start talking. Is this guilt? Have you been seeing someone else?”
“Oh God, no, how could you even think that, Jordan?” Her powerful proclamation startled him; it was clear she was telling the truth.
“Then what is it? Why do you look so guilty? If you don’t talk to me, how am I supposed to help you?”
“It’s not you, Jordan, it’s me.”
“Oh no, don’t you even think about going there!” he said abruptly, pulling back, furious at once. “We’re not going through that again. Nothing is about just you, Jaynee, can’t you understand that? We are one. If you have a problem, I have a problem. If something is bothering you, it bothers me. Isn’t that obvious?”
Split Decisions: A Southern Romantic-Suspense Novel - Charlotte - Book Two Page 16