No more. He was home now. To stay.
“I’m glad you want to help with the business.”
Norma set her fork down. “Marriage is a partnership, Herman.”
“You’ve been the best partner a man could want.”
Her jaw sagged. A real smile lit her face. “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve said all night.”
Calling her his partner was romantic? His head spun at the news. He had so much to learn about romancing his wife.
On the way out, he held the door for a couple entering. As Norma passed him, Herman caught a whiff of sweet and spicy honeysuckle.
His pulse throbbed against his neck. He slid his hand onto her waist, guiding her toward the parked car. Tingles sparked through him, awakening desires he’d been trying to suppress. According to the blog on marriage Adonis had been reading, men made the mistake of substituting sex for romance and lust for passion. He wouldn’t fall into that trap, not when they had finally conversed about important issues.
He stepped back to avoid the passenger door as he swung it open.
“Norma.” Her murmured name escaped on a husky exhale.
She tilted her face toward him, inches from his chin. The thrashing beast caged in his chest sprang toward her, desperate for release. He dipped his face closer.
Her sparkling eyes widened an instant before his lips brushed hers, gentle in contrast to the part of him demanding more of her. She sighed against him, her mouth responding, tilting closer.
His other hand found her waist, and he curled his fingers in the silky excess of fabric. Every inch of his body sang out its desire for her.
In the parking lot of Ernie’s?
Instead of deepening the kiss, Herman pulled back, letting a whisper of space separate them.
“Thank you for giving me another chance.”
Her eyes, dark with the same passion beating for release behind his skin, blinked and dropped to his mouth. She backed away, and his hand slid over her hip. His pulse thrummed in response to the curves slipping beneath his fingers.
“Thanks for dinner.” Her lips trembled into a smile. “It’s nice to date my husband.”
He tucked her into the car, and his brain mapped out the next date. And the next. Even if their marriage resumed its former coziness, he wasn’t going to stop wining and dining her. Didn’t she deserve as much? Why hadn’t he thought that was important when he spent so much time away from her?
They were leaving Sweet Grove behind when she said, “How can I help you with your new business?”
“What about spreading the news?”
“What about brochures or fliers? I could whip something up on the computer to hand out at church or hang at the post office.”
“You can design those?”
Her exciting ideas had his heart swelling, sure at last that he could make this work. Before they had decided on specifics, he pulled into the driveway and stepped on the brakes. A truck was nosing down the drive. It reversed and stopped inches from his pickup.
Jack Bryant stared at him from behind the truck’s dusty windshield. What did he want? Irritation flared in Herman’s midsection at the interruption.
He parked the car beside the porch and raced around to help Norma from the vehicle. She glanced toward the idling truck and Herman shrugged.
“I’ll be in as quick as I can.”
Her soft smile turned his insides to mush. He really was turning into the swooning youth who wooed her twenty-five years ago.
After he ushered her inside, Herman trotted out to see what his visitor wanted.
But his heart went in the house with the love of his life.
17
Norma clattered up the stairs on aching feet. Her stomach still fluttered from the gentle press of Herman’s lips against hers.
In the upstairs hallway, she glanced toward Adonis’s room. The door was closed, but a light shone from beneath it. She hesitated. A gentle prompting in her spirit nudged her down the hall.
Her fist froze a hair’s breadth from the door. What would she say? She felt foolish approaching him. A closed door screamed for privacy. The nudge came again, almost causing her to stumble into the barrier. Her knuckles brushed against the raised panel.
A rustle and squeak sounded from the room before the door swung inward. The boy—Herman’s son—stood there, t-shirt untucked over long athletic shorts and bare feet.
They stared at each other. Norma swallowed and smiled.
“We’re home.” As if he wouldn’t already know. His room was near where they parked the cars.
“How was it?”
Norma nodded. “It was a good idea. Thank you.”
One shoulder raised and lowered. Their gazes locked.
“Goodnight.” Norma started to turn away, and he echoed the sentiment.
A twist behind her breastbone stopped her. She didn’t believe in hearing God speak audibly, but she got the impression He was on the verge of jerking her by the hair.
She turned back to the boy. Lamplight framed him like a halo. Behind him, the bed was neatly made, although the quilt was rumpled and three pillows were stacked against the wall.
“I want you to know…” she took a deep breath “… you’re welcome here.”
He nodded.
The urgent nudging in her chest continued. She sighed. “As far as I’m concerned, this is your home.”
Glances connected, and his solemn eyes held steady.
“Thanks.”
She started to turn, but his next words stopped her. “You’d be a great mom.”
She steeled herself for the wave of longing and loss. It didn’t come. She blinked in surprise, pressed her hand to her chest. What did it mean?
She twisted toward him. “What a sweet thing to say.”
He swallowed, and a wave of anxiety swelled between them. “I miss my mother.”
Compassion crashed over Norma. She stepped closer and rested her hand on his arm. “Of course you do.”
“And it’s probably too soon, but…”
Norma’s gaze locked with his, and she cocked her head. “You’ll miss her forever. There’s no substitute for a mother’s love.”
“Actually…”
Something darkened his gaze. He swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment. “Would you be my stepmom? I mean, I know that’s not really—”
Norma’s arms circled him. Tears spilled before she could even think to stop them.
Herman’s son wanted her to be his stepmom?
Large hands rested tentatively on her shoulder blades. Moist breath ruffled her hair.
“I’d be honored.” The whisper was ragged, betraying the emotional tornado in her heart. She ducked her head and turned away, hiding her tears. “Goodnight.”
“See you in the morning…Mom.”
Norma’s heart jerked to a stop and sputtered in her chest. A flood of tears wrenched from her soul. She rushed down the hall and into her bathroom. Breaths puffed in and out. Drops spattered the vanity top.
Oh, dear Lord, I can’t believe you answered my prayers. Only You would grant my heart’s desire this way.
A stream of gratitude flowed from her soul to his throne, racing in time with the tears. Peace seeped into the empty chamber reserved for her deepest wish, fulfilled at last.
She washed her face and blew her nose.
Stepping out of the bathroom, she halted. Herman paced beside the bed until saw her.
“You’re crying.” The growl carried a notable hint of worry.
“Happy tears.”
He stared and finally shook his head. “Women.”
The male remark made her lips twitch into a smile. She took a tentative step toward him. “Did you need something?”
His gaze caressed her face and stopped on her lips. “A goodnight kiss.”
The gruff whisper shot a current of tingles through her stomach and chest. Norma strode past him and kicked her heels into the closet. Turning, she closed the door to her
room and pressed her back against it.
Herman’s eyes devoured her.
“How about a good morning kiss?” Her voice sounded low and foreign.
Faster than a man who’d had a heart attack two weeks ago should move, he stood in front of her. His arms slid around her waist, and he tugged her against his chest. Hungry lips engulfed hers.
A sigh escaped. She tilted her chin and met his need with her own. The caress became a dance of tongues as heat enveloped them. Norma melted against him, and he backed them toward the bed.
Making up wiped away the pain of fighting.
Much later, Norma snuggled into her husband’s warmth, soothed by his deep, steady breaths.
Thank you, Lord.
If more secrets waited around the corner, she knew they would face them together—as a family.
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What’s Next?
Read the first chapter of LOVE’S ATONEMENT, book 11 of the FIRST STREET CHURCH expanded world…
Reds and blues. Golds and yellows. The colors swirled and danced among the bubbles. With every deep breath, Laura Cleary focused more intently on the aquarium, trying to forget the pressure she felt as the doctor finished her exam.
“It all looks good,” Dr. Rylan said. “You’re healing really well.”
Lies. All lies. There was no way to heal from this. Cuts mending? That wasn’t healing. No. She had a long way to go to heal this time.
“I’ll give you a minute to get dressed and then we’ll have a little chat,” the doctor said. “Is Dixon in the waiting room? I’ll get him as well.”
“No,” Laura said. Her words were no more than a whisper. “Dixon isn’t here. I’m alone.”
“Well, that’s a first. I don’t think he’s ever missed one of your appointments. Must be busy at the ranch.”
“Real busy,” she said, hoping her voice was convincing.
“Okay. Get dressed then, and I’ll be back shortly.”
If the woman was looking at Laura oddly, she’d never know it. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the fish tank since she’d come in.
Once the door closed, Laura slowly eased herself off the exam table. She pulled on her pink and lavender sundress, fumbling with her underwear. Dixon had always helped her dress after these appointments. Held her hand. Told her it was fine. Now he wasn’t here to do either. They weren’t liars. Even Dixon, in his eternal optimism, couldn’t tell her things were fine any more.
Her phone vibrated in her purse. If she was capable of hope, she’d have hoped it was Dixon checking in. But it was a text from Nicole.
Thinking about you. Call me as soon as you’re done. Love you.
God love Nicole. She was so much more than a cousin. They’d been best friends almost from the womb, born a mere five days apart.
Laura texted back.
I will.
The phone buzzed again. Ugh. She didn’t want to have a drawn out text conversation right now.
Staying in Austin again tonight?
Yes.
Buzz.
You’re welcome here.
Of course she was welcome there. She was welcome in any number of homes in Sweet Grove. That was the problem. Everyone in town knew what she’d been through. And while no one asked if she and Dixon were separated, they had to know. Nothing was secret in Sweet Grove. Laura’s absence from church wouldn’t be noted… yet. After all, she was recovering from surgery. But was Dixon still going? What was he saying?
Dr. Rylan knocked on the door and, after a moment’s hesitation, stuck her head in.
“Why don’t you come out to my office? It’s more comfortable there.”
Her office? The last time Laura had been there was five years ago when she and Dixon had first met with her to discuss fertility options. Since then, every visit was in the clinic rooms.
She followed the tall, older woman with a streak of blue in her gray hair down a long hall. Laura had been in most of these at one point or another. The ultrasound suite. The radiology room. The egg retrieval room. She blushed as she passed one door in particular. Dixon had more experience there.
All of these rooms designed to make their wishes come true. And yet, after all this, they were no further ahead. After all this, they were no longer a they.
The doctor’s office was bright and cheery. She hadn’t remembered that. Maybe all the money they’d spent here had helped Dr. Rylan redecorate. Light blonde wood floor, covered in a sunshine yellow rug. Soft yellow curtains framing a window that looked over St. Mary’s Cathedral. And soft, body soothing chairs. A jug of water sat on the table, the sides coated in beads of condensation from the crisp ice.
Dr. Rylan sat and nodded to the other chair.
“How are you doing, Laura?”
“I’m okay.”
There was no aquarium to fixate on here. She’d have to settle for the jug of water.
“You’re not okay,” the doctor said, her voice soft and soothing. “And you shouldn’t be okay. Whatever you’re feeling, you are entitled to it. But you need to be able to talk about it.”
One solid bead of water slowly ran down the side of the jug. It grabbed smaller beads as it went, taking them all down with it.
“I’m as okay as I can be,” she whispered.
“How are things with you and Dixon?”
The words bubbled in her throat. She wanted to pour them out, but if she did, the tears would follow. And crying hurt. Everything hurt.
She shook her head. It was all she could manage.
“I feared as much. You’ve both been through a lot. Many couples struggle during this. It’s perfectly normal. If you two want to give counseling a try, I know a great therapist who works with couples going through loss, especially fertility-related loss.”
Laura let out a harsh laugh. “Dixon in therapy? The second-coming is likely to happen first.”
“You never know. If he wants to work on your marriage, he might consider it. I’ve seen over the years how supportive he is of you. I think he’d do it.”
Laura said nothing. The bead of water, now tripled in size, had gotten stuck on the rounded bottom of the jug and couldn’t make its final escape. She could empathize with it.
“It’s not Dixon who gave up,” she finally said. Admitting her failure as a wife was something she would have to come to terms with. “It was me. I left.”
“Do you want to talk about why?”
She was tired of talking about why. But since this was the last time she’d ever see Dr. Rylan, she might as well lay it all out there.
“Because Dixon Cleary was meant to be a father. When I married him, we vowed to bring as many children into this world as we could. And despite all the prayers, and science, and money we’ve thrown at it, I can’t give that to him. We always knew we had a rough shot of it happening, but now, there’s nothing left. I’m a barren woman. And he doesn’t deserve that. He deserves to find a woman who can give him a family.”
“Laura. You are not a barren woman.”
“How can you say that? You were there. You did it. You took my last tube just eight weeks ago. No tubes, no child, right?”
“No, not right. There’s still in vitro.”
“We did that. Twice. It didn’t work.”
“If you want to keep trying, we can do it once more.”
“No,” Laura said, standing and walking to the window. The limestone spire of St. Mary’s, with its sandy-white cross, called to her. Maybe a visit was in order when she left. Even lapsed Catholics were still welcome, weren’t they? “We’ve spent every cent and more that the ranch brings in on treatments. No more. I’m not bankrupting Dixon for this. Not when he can go meet a nice young fertile woman and start over.”
“Is that what he wants?”
“He won’t admit it. But if I give him enough time and space, he’ll realize it.”
“Do you want to talk to someone about this? I can get you i
n to speak to my friend this week if you want.”
Laura shook her head. “My mind is made up. I’ve made my choice. I might not ever be a mother, but Dixon will be a dad.”
Laura believed in vows. Breaking her marriage vow killed her, but her out was in the vow to raise children. If she couldn’t keep that part of their bargain, then it rendered the rest null and void. But this vow she would keep. She would not prevent Dixon from having a family.
What happens next?
Don’t wait to find out…
Head to Amazon to purchase or borrow your copy of LOVE’S ATONEMENT so that you can keep reading this contemporary romance series today!
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Read the first chapter of LOVE & ORDER, book 1 of HOLIDAYS IN HALLBROOK…
Garrett clicked the buckle of his harness into place and pulled tightly on the ends of the straps. “Ready for takeoff.” He gave the helicopter pilot a thumbs-up in case he couldn’t hear him over the low hum of the spinning blades and the motor propelling them. Normally, he would just take his own plane for such a short flight, but he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be piloting anything, making this chartered flight an easy decision.
The pilot went through a series of checks with the control tower, and it wasn’t long before the whirring sound increased and the helicopter began to vibrate with the increased power, blocking out any chance of regular conversation. The huge metal bird lifted off from a private section of the airfield. The ground below faded away until New York City became an aerial view of rooftops and skyscrapers all blended together. Garrett let out a deep breath.
The flight from La Guardia to Glen Haven, New Hampshire, the closest private airport with a helipad to Hallbrook, was ninety minutes by helicopter and then a fifteen-minute drive north to the town where he’d spent most of his childhood. It was a trip he would always regret not making more often. The news of his mother’s death had come as a shock, and now, days later, the ache he felt had deepened, spurred on by guilt. He hadn’t even known she was having heart troubles, but then according to Charlie, her friend and solicitor, she hadn’t either. Her heart attack had taken everyone by surprise. It was hard to believe she was gone.
Love's Little Secrets (Sweet Grove Romance Book 2; First Street Church #10) Page 10