by Nancy Warren
“I went along with the child thing because you wanted it so badly. What do I want with kids? It’s all dirty diapers and two o’clock feedings and a house with no peace.”
Jon continued to talk, but she only heard the same words echoing around in her head. “I don’t want children.”
The words swirled in the air like gremlins, laughing and mocking her.
It was a joke. This had to be a joke. She forced a grin, but it frayed at the edges. “Did Andre put you up to this?”
“Andre? What’s this got to do with him?” He was so obviously appalled at the idea of discussing their attempts to have a baby with Andre that she had to believe him.
She stared at him. Had he been pretending all that time? She could have sworn he’d been as anxious as she to have a child. At least in the beginning.
“You’re not just saying this to make me feel better about not being able to conceive, are you?”
“No. Of course not.” He colored and turned away to look out the window.
She bit her lip. She’d smile if this weren’t the cruelest irony of her life. Jon was no more used to failing at anything he set his mind to than she was.
It must have choked him to utter those words.
Well, he might be sincere that he really didn’t want children and he might be saying it to make her feel better. Either way, they’d made a child their last night together and they were responsible for that baby’s welfare whether together or apart.
He’d never been any good as a liar, and the sweetness of his gesture warmed her. Still, they were stuck here for the weekend and she wanted to get to know him again. She wasn’t nearly ready to tell him about the baby.
They had a long road back, but it was time to take the first step.
“You hurt me,” she said softly.
For her pains she ended up at the receiving end of a groan. “I can’t keep telling you over and over there was nothing between me and Lori. It’s up to you to trust or not trust.”
She shook her head. “I do believe you. I knew the minute the door opened in that wine cellar, and there you were looking ready to murder her while she stood there half-nude.” She snickered at the memory. She couldn’t help it.
“I don’t find the memory one bit funny. It was publicly humiliating.”
“Kind of like me finding her in our bed, and then the whole town somehow learning all the details.”
He stared at her as though she were crazy. “You don’t think I told anyone, do you?”
“No.” She shook her head. At first she’d been ready to believe anything she’d been so mad, but later she realized it was probably Lori who’d spread the story, or the cleaning lady. Or both.
“I’ve had some time to think. I never knew Lori very well, but I don’t think she was subtle around the men she wanted. She must have been coming on to you before that day.”
He rose and grabbed another log, shoving it on the already blazing fire. “Yes,” he said, watching the wood snap and crackle. “You’re right, she did. I thought I could handle it, but I guess she wasn’t getting the hint that I wasn’t interested.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know. Things were kind of strained between us. I didn’t want to make a big deal about something that didn’t matter.”
“But don’t you see? If you’d told me, I wouldn’t have believed you were having an affair when I saw her in our bed. I was so angry, and so hurt…”
“I was hurt, too. And angry that you didn’t trust me. That you would think for one minute I would do that to you. And in our bed.”
She chuckled softly, amazed she could see the humor in what had been, hands down, the worst moment in her life.
“I was so angry, I didn’t look beyond the obvious. Besides, you were staring at her with this bemused expression on your face.”
“I was stunned. I’d come home, run up to the bedroom to change and there was a nearly naked woman in my bed. It would have been great if she was you. But she wasn’t.”
“She looked pretty good in a G-string.”
“I’m not going to insult your intelligence and pretend I didn’t notice that, but believe me, it did nothing for me.” He took the step that separated them and ran a fingertip down her cheek. “I’m in love with my wife.”
She recognized the rush of emotion she felt as joy. Pure, unalleviated joy.
“I’ve been an ass.”
She nodded in full agreement.
“But so have you.”
It was tougher to accept that she’d been as much of a fool as he. She furrowed her brow and glared, ready to argue her case.
He merely raised his eyebrows, challenging her to face the truth. It wasn’t easy, and when she considered how she’d felt that day when she’d walked in on Jon and Lori, she was certain any woman would have felt the same.
“You have to admit, Jon, it looked bad.”
“Of course it looked bad. But you jumped to the most obvious conclusion—the one that did the least credit to either of us, and then never budged from that position. Why?”
This was the part where he had a point. “Okay. Maybe I was a bit of an ass. I should have agreed to hear you out.”
He blew out a breath in a big, “Whew,” then grinned at her. “That wasn’t so hard was it.”
“Yes. It was. It’s not easy for me to admit I was wrong.”
“No. That’s not the problem.” He took her hand in his and sat beside her on the old couch. She almost wept to feel that strong, loving connection she thought they’d lost. “This was the part that took me a while to figure out.” He leaned back, keeping her hand tight in his. “We’ve always been the lucky ones. Leading charmed lives, successful at our careers, finding each other and falling into a great marriage. We didn’t know it wasn’t perfect because it had never been tested. Then we decided to have a child and discovered we weren’t perfect.”
Reluctantly she nodded.
“All that time we were trying to create this new life, our marriage was slowly dying. Loving became work and we forgot what brought us together in the first place.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think about this while we’ve been apart, and I realized I don’t want to lose what we have. That’s why I don’t want kids.”
The fire popped and crackled, sending warmth and the fragrance of burning cedar into the room. Beneath the granny-square afghan, Caro felt cuddled and comforted.
If she’d needed proof that Jon loved her, could it have come any clearer? Did he think she didn’t remember their conversations when they first started trying for a child? How he’d felt so alone growing up with almost a generation between him and his older siblings, with parents who were old enough to be grandparents physically, although, of course, his mother had never entirely grown up.
Jon was giving her an out and she loved him for it, but she had to be honest about her shortcomings if they were going to be able to weather the next storm. And there’d be a next storm. She was coming to realize that in a marriage the squalls had to be battled together. It would make the smooth sailing all that much sweeter.
“I didn’t trust you to love me if I wasn’t perfect. If our marriage wasn’t perfect. Running away, refusing to hear your version of the Lori story was an easy way for me to leave.” She heard the huskiness in her voice as she fought tears. “I’m sorry.”
He pulled her against him and touched her lips softy with his. She wanted to cling to him, to deepen the kiss and to take their reunion to the next stage, but it had been so long since they’d talked and held each other that she didn’t want to give that up.
Besides, once he had her naked, Jon would almost certainly notice the changes taking place in her body, and she wasn’t ready yet to tell him her news. They needed to heal as a couple first. She pulled away slowly and laid her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her and snuggled her close.
“Mmm. This is nice. I missed it,” she admitted. “I missed you.”
/> “I thought, after the wine cellar, that it was all over.”
“You should have seen your face when the door opened. I don’t know if you were madder at Lori for trying to seduce you, Mike and Steve for locking you in, or me for seeing the spectacle.”
“I was angry with myself for getting caught a second time with a half-naked Lori.” He groaned. “I had such big plans for that night. I was going to woo you with my charm. It was my idea to work behind the bar so I could show you I wasn’t a snob. And, correct me if this is male ego talking here, but I was getting some pretty good vibes from you that my plan had a shot.”
She smiled sleepily against his shoulder. “Not to cater too much to your male ego, but I was yours for the taking.”
He sighed grumpily. “Then Lori pulled Home-wrecker II and I saw history repeating itself.”
“I’d already decided to hear you out. Maybe suggest some counseling. Then I saw her in the wine cellar and I knew there was nothing between you two.”
He grabbed her chin and turned her to face him. “How did you know?”
“When you looked at her, it wasn’t a bit the way you used to look at me.”
He tilted her face up so they were staring at each other. “The way I still look at you,” he said, and she could see that was true. His gaze sent shivers down her spine.
“The way I’ll always look at you,” he insisted, and she believed him.
“Could we…”
“Yes!” he said.
She laughed, tamping down her own desire because she simply wasn’t ready yet.
She’d punish him for pretending he didn’t want a child, but, because she loved him and because she knew he’d made the gesture out of love, she wouldn’t make him pay too dearly. There’d been enough of that.
“No. Not that. You know what you said before, about planning to woo me the night of Fanny’s birthday party?”
“Sure.”
“I was completely wooable.”
“How was I supposed to know that? You stomped away so fast you were sprinting.”
“I was being discreet. It was embarrassing for Lori—not that she didn’t deserve it—awkward for Fanny and our friends, and pretty unpleasant for you. It seemed that if I got out of the way quickly it would be the easiest.”
“You did that all right.”
She glared at him. “Then you never came near me the rest of the night.”
“How was I supposed to know you still wanted to be wooed?”
She rolled her eyes. She could see she still had a lot of work ahead of her. “I stayed, didn’t I?”
“I thought that was for Fanny!”
“Well, you were wrong. I love Fanny, but I wanted to be with you.”
He groaned. “I really blew it, didn’t I?”
“Not as much as you blew it by bringing Miss Georgia Peach to the sports bar on Thursday.”
“What? I never saw you there.”
“That’s because I saw you first.”
“I bumped into her there and we had a drink.”
“I hope you don’t end up hurting her,” Caro said, concern pulling her eyebrows together.
“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but if it’s to save my marriage, I know she’d understand. She was using me to make a certain quarterback jealous.”
Her jaw dropped. “Rock Richards? The one who dated Harriet for a while?”
“The very same. I guess making men jealous is something all you women delight in.”
In spite of her own tangled love relationship—or maybe because she was back on the road to bliss and wanted everyone to find their own path to happiness—she was delighted to think of Rock and his cheerleader finding each other. “Did it work?”
Jon rubbed his jaw, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Let’s just say, I feared for my life when he saw us together at the sports bar. Not wanting to be flattened by those steamroller muscles of his, I gracefully made way for him.”
She wasn’t fooled for a minute. “You were playing matchmaker,” she said, delighted with him.
He shifted, the picture of manly embarrassment. “No way. I was lucky to get away with my life.”
Okay, so he wouldn’t admit it. She kissed him anyway. “Those two are perfect for each other. Do you think it will work out?”
“They were certainly wrapped up in each other when they left the bar together.”
She clapped. “Now the only one we have to worry about is Lori.”
“Houston can worry about Lori. What we have to worry about, my love, is us.”
He laid a palm against her cheek and kissed her, a long, slow kiss that made her toes curl.
“About us,” she said, pulling away slowly. “We need to keep working on this marriage and never let it get stale.”
“I have a few ideas right now that would freshen things up.”
She chuckled. “I was thinking of counseling. Maybe it would be a good idea for us to get used to talking things through.”
He groaned. “I don’t want to spend three hours a week whining to some shrink.”
“If it was important to me would you do it?”
He screwed up his face as though in pain. “Any shrink will take one look at my mother and figure I’m a hopeless case.”
She laughed. “Maybe your mother should be our counselor. Can’t you imagine the advice she’d give?”
“I know one thing she did teach me is ‘never go to bed mad.’” He made a big production of yawning. “I’m ready for bed. And I’m not mad.” His eyes were half humorous, half serious. He was leaving the decision to her, she knew. She bit her lip, torn between wanting him so much it hurt and wanting to continue the sharing and touching. The wooing.
She thought about her baby and how important a strong marriage would be to the child they’d created and decided her hormones would have to wait.
She kissed Jon lightly. “Much as I’d love to crawl into bed with you right now, if we did, we wouldn’t crawl out again until Monday.”
“I think you’re exaggerating,” he said with enormous dignity.
“Remember Paris?”
He grinned. “One of the best weekends we ever spent.”
“We didn’t see a single sight,” she said, warming with the memories.
“I remember the Eiffel Tower distinctly.”
“Only because it was the view from our bedroom window.”
He chuckled. “Okay, you’re right. If we go to bed now, we’ll stay there all weekend. And that’s not a good idea because…?”
She sighed and snuggled against him. “Let’s not fall into our old routines. We need to do some communicating.”
“Well, here’s a communication for you. That fellow you brought to the wedding can thank his new baby that he didn’t end up eating his capped teeth.”
She happened to know that nature had endowed Andre with perfect teeth along with his good looks and magnificent physique, but she decided now probably wasn’t the time to explain that to Jon.
“I still want the wooing. I want us to talk and go for walks and get to know each other again.”
“All right,” he said. “But I’m giving you fair warning. In my opinion, sex is a big part of wooing.”
“I know, and I appreciate you letting me have my way in this.”
She got ready for bed, feeling happier than she had in weeks. They loved each other and they had a future, but they’d also learned their marriage wasn’t perfect, and neither were they. This reconciliation was an important step for both of them. She was determined to get it right.
She readied herself for the night in the cabin’s single bathroom, thankful both for the indoor plumbing and for how well Jon had remembered her favorite products.
When she emerged, he was stoking the woodstove in the kitchen.
His eyes kindled brighter than the burning logs when he saw her. “Do I get a good-night kiss?”
She nodded, feeling absurdly shy. They’d been married for five years for goo
dness’ sake, but this felt like a new relationship. Of course, she realized that in many ways it was.
She licked her lips as he halted inches away from her. She smelled the wood smoke and fresh air smells of him and the underlying scent of his skin.
“Good night, Caro,” he said, and lifting her chin, kissed her softly. She’d been prepared for a deep, hungry kiss, and the gentle brush of his lips was so unexpected, and so surprisingly sexy, that she leaned into him and sighed. She didn’t know if it was the hormones at work, but she’d never felt so female, so…womanly. All he had to do was take her hand and lead her to his bed.
“See you in the morning,” he said, and it took her a minute to realize he’d left her standing there, needy and restless.
As she moved back inside her room, she was tempted to lock the door. Not to keep Jonathon out, but to lock herself inside.
As she snuggled under the blankets, she rubbed her hand over her belly. “You’re a good chaperon,” she whispered, grinning to herself. “And one day, believe me, I’ll be returning the favor.”
13
THEY DROVE BACK to town the next morning. As she’d suspected, he’d brought a spare set of keys along, although he’d really come without a cell phone. Since she’d more than once complained that he wouldn’t go anywhere without one, she had to assume he’d spent a weekend phoneless to please her.
And it did please her. She yawned as they drove down the windy mountain road she hadn’t seen on the trip up. She wasn’t nearly as rested as she would have liked to be. He’d wanted her to come to him last night. She understood that, even as she understood that they still had some hurdles to cross.
By unspoken agreement, they stayed on safe conversational topics until they reached town. Then all her chitchat seemed to dry up. In fact, her tongue seemed to dry up until it felt like a piece of beef jerky in her parched mouth.
What if she was wrong and he really didn’t want children?
The car slowed as they passed through a school-crossing zone. She gazed at the sign with stick figure renditions of a boy and girl crossing the street and her eyes misted.