Another Man's Wife

by Dallas Schulze

  “You don’t have to leave,” Kelsey said.

  “I know but I’ve been home two weeks and I’ve barely said hello to the family. I might as well start with Cole.”

  “You’ve been working so hard on the greenhouse that you haven’t had time to see your family.” Kelsey was immediately guilt stricken. When she’d told him that she’d found a great bargain on a used greenhouse, he pushed her to buy it, offering the incentive of his cheap labor to put it up. That had made all the difference to her budget, and she’d solidified the deal immediately. He’d been working on the site ever since.

  “You’re working too hard,” she said, sounding as guilty as she felt. “You’re on vacation. You should be relaxing, not working on my greenhouse.”

  “Yeah, you’re a regular slave driver, all right. Maybe you should give me a little more gruel to keep up my strength.” He popped the top on the second can of cola and gave her a dry look. “I could point out that you didn’t exactly shanghai me into this job, I volunteered.”

  “But it’s your vacation, and you’re working like a dog.”

  “Now, there’s a phrase I’ve never understood,” Gage said, pausing with the bright red can halfway to his mouth.”’Working like a dog.’ What exactly does that mean? Personally most of the dogs I’ve known don’t do a whole lot of work. My mother’s dog, for example, has never done a day’s work in his life.”

  “Is this the dog who stole the Thanksgiving turkey last year? Moose or something?”

  “Hippo,” Gage corrected her. He grinned, remembering the chaos that had followed the dog’s theft of the main course. “He’s the one. But I was thinking of honest work, not burglary. Name me one dog who really works.”

  “Lassie,” Kelsey said promptly.

  “She’s got stunt doubles.” Gage shook his head, dismissing Lassie out of hand. “And did you know she’s a he?” He shook his head. “All those years I watched that show and never realized Lassie was a cross dresser.”

  “A cross dresser?” Kelsey had just pulled two heads of lettuce out of the refrigerator and was reaching for the bundle of baby carrots she’d pulled hours before, but at Gage’s comment she forgot the carrots and turned to look at him. “You’re calling Lassie a cross dresser?”

  “Hey, I didn’t mean it as an insult.” He waved the cola can in an expansive gesture. “I’m a firm supporter of alternative life-styles.”

  “We’re talking about a dog, Gage.”

  “Yeah?” He gave her a blank look. “So what’s your point?”

  It occurred to her that he’d very neatly turned the conversation away from the topic of his working on the greenhouse. After this ridiculous exchange, there was no way she could attempt any serious discussion, not while her mind was still reeling with the concept of Lassie’s being a cross dresser. And he knew it, darn him.

  She debated throwing the lettuce at his head and then decided it would do no good. It wouldn’t help restore a more serious tone to the conversation and would just bruise a perfectly good head of Black Seeded Simpson, which happened to be her favorite lettuce.

  “You have a really sick sense of humor, Walker.”

  “Thank you.” He looked so genuinely pleased that Kelsey couldn’t hold back a laugh.

  One of the things she missed most when Gage was gone was the way he made her laugh. It wasn’t that she didn’t laugh at other times. She just seemed to do more of it when he was around.

  * * *

  “I think you’re exaggerating.” Kelsey sent a look of laughing accusation across the table. Clair widened her eyes innocently.

  “Scout’s honor, Kels. He really did expect me to say good-night to every portrait every night. We’d walk the length of the whole bloody portrait gallery with him saying good-night to every DiMera who’d ever lived. And they were a ridiculously prolific family. It took hours.”

  “If he was such a nut case, why did you marry him?”

  “I didn’t know.” Clair tapped the ash off her cigarette into a clay pot base, the closest thing to an ashtray Kelsey had been able to come up with. They’d moved their lunch outside so that Clair could smoke, which she’d done nonstop since her arrival almost an hour ago.

  “He seemed pretty normal when we met,” she continued, waving the cigarette for emphasis. “Good-looking, if you could ignore the weak chin, and charming as hell. He actually kissed my hand when we were introduced. What girl wouldn’t marry a guy who’d kiss her hand?”

  “It would be hard to resist.”

  “Okay, so you would have resisted.” Clair was not fooled in the least by Kelsey’s solemn tone. “You always did have more sense than I did, especially when it came to men.”

  “I just wanted different things.” Kelsey nibbled a shred of carrot that had been left on the edge of her plate. “I wanted a home and a family.”

  “And I wanted to be rich and see the world.” Clair’s mouth twisted in a rueful smile. “Isn’t there some annoying cliché about being careful what you wish for because you may get it? I figure that Carlos turning out to be a fruitcake is my punishment for having such a shallow wish. If I’d wanted something a little more mature, like you did, maybe I wouldn’t have been so dazzled by an Italian suit and an accent.”

  “Things didn’t work out exactly the way I’d planned, either,” Kelsey said quietly, thinking of Rick.

  “I know they didn’t, honey. I didn’t mean to imply that you’d had life easy.” Clair reached across the picnic table to touch the back of Kelsey’s hand in a quick gesture of apology.

  “I didn’t think you did.” Which was nothing less than the truth. She’d never had any trouble seeing through the sharp-tongued persona Clair liked to project.

  “I know how much you loved Rick. I’m not comparing losing him to my divorce from Carlos.”

  “A divorce isn’t an easy thing.”

  “It wasn’t that bad.” Clair stubbed out her cigarette and immediately reached for the pack to light another one. Her quick, nervous movements were at odds with her throwaway tone. “After two years of living in that drafty mausoleum, it was a pleasure to get back to the States where central heating is an inalienable right.”

  “That’s a part of the constitution I don’t remember,” Kelsey said with a grin.

  “Trust me, it’s right up there with life, liberty and the right to arm bears.”

  Kelsey choked on her iced tea. “I think that’s the ‘right to bear arms,’” she corrected when she’d regained her breath.

  “Bear arms, arm bears.” Clair waved her cigarette in a gesture of indifference. “What difference does it make?”

  “I’d guess it makes a lot of difference to hikers. They’d probably get a little nervous if they thought the local bears were packing Uzis.”

  “I can see how that might be a problem. The bears wouldn’t have to raid the garbage anymore. They could just take what they wanted at gunpoint.”

  “Your honey or your life.”

  The two of them dissolved into giggles.

  “I’ve missed you,” Clair said when their laughter had subsided.

  “I’ve missed you, too. I’m glad you’re settling close enough that we’ll be able to see each other.” Kelsey stood and began clearing the remains of their lunch from the table.

  “That was one of the reasons I picked Santa Barbara, because you were in the area.” Clair rose and stubbed out her half-smoked cigarette before picking up her plate and the big salad bowl. “So far, we’ve done nothing but talk about me. Now I want to hear all the gory details of what’s going on in your life.”

  “There’s not much to tell. Running the business and raising Danny pretty much fill my life. No time for Italian counts with weak chins and lots of ancestors,” she added, slanting a teasing glance in Clair’s direction.

  “You haven’t missed anything there.” Clair hooked one finger around the screen door handle and pulled it open, stepping back to allow Kelsey to go through first. “I thought the hunk from the w
edding was living with you,” she said as they entered the kitchen. “That’s better than an Italian count any day.”

  “The hunk from the wedding?” Kelsey set the plates on the counter and turned to take the salad bowl from Clair. “You mean Gage Walker?”

  “Tall, dark, chiseled jaw, electric blue eyes, body to die for? That’s the one.”

  Kelsey’s smile felt a little forced. Clair’s description of Gage was accurate enough. It was just that she didn’t think of him in those terms.

  “Tall, dark and handsome,” Clair continued, oblivious to Kelsey’s silence. “I’ve never seen anyone make a cliché look quite so good.”

  “He is an attractive man,” Kelsey said, aware that the description was a little bland. Apparently Clair agreed.

  “Attractive?” She gave her friend a look of disbelief. “You’ve been spending too much time communing with zucchini. Unless he’s aged really badly since the wedding, Gage Walker is considerably more than just ‘attractive.’ The man is a major hunk.”

  “Hmm.” Kelsey turned the water on harder than necessary and began to rinse the dishes. She’d almost forgotten some of Clair’s more annoying tendencies.

  “He is still living here, isn’t he?” Clair asked, raising her voice to be heard over the sound of the water.

  “When he’s not out of the country,” Kelsey said. She clattered the plates together deliberately, hoping the noise would discourage conversation. She should have known better. Clair simply talked louder.

  “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” There were no more dishes to rinse. It was a shame she hadn’t made a more elaborate meal, Kelsey thought, looking around for a forgotten fork. But there was nothing, and she reluctantly shut the water off and turned to look at her friend.

  Clair was sitting at the kitchen table, her long, slender legs crossed at the knee. In her trim, camel-colored slacks and jade silk camp shirt, she looked elegantly casual, as if she were about to pose for a spread in some upscale fashion magazine. Her dark hair was cut short, forming a sleek cap that framed her face, and emphasized her high cheekbones and the faintly exotic slant of her dark eyes.

  “I mean, what’s going on between you and Gage Walker,” Clair said, speaking slowly and distinctly and leaving no room for evasion.

  “We’re friends.” Kelsey finished drying her hands on a red-and-white-checked towel and tossed it on the counter.

  “Just friends?” Clair arched one perfectly shaped brow, as if she found Kelsey’s description hard to believe.

  “It is possible for a man and a woman to be friends,” Kelsey said, aware that she sounded a little defensive.

  “Sure it is. I just can’t imagine being friends with someone that gorgeous. It’s tough to be friends with someone when all you can think about is what he’d be like in bed.”

  “I don’t think of Gage that way,” Kelsey said primly.

  “The two of you have never...” Clair let the question trail off, raising her brows again, her dark eyes full of curiosity.

  “Never.” She shoved aside the memory of Gage’s holding her, kissing her.

  “Then you wouldn’t object to me trying my hand with him?” Clair asked.

  “Of course not.” Kelsey forced a laugh, wondering why she’d never realized just how predatory Clair could look.

  “It just seems a shame to leave such a gorgeous guy laying around unclaimed.”

  “You make him sound like a package in the dead letter office. I don’t think Gage is pining for female companionship.”

  “He’s dating someone?”

  “Not that I know of.” But she wasn’t as sure as she sounded. It suddenly occurred to Kelsey that she didn’t really know whether or not Gage was dating someone. She’d never even considered the possibility. Now that she thought about it, why wouldn’t he be dating?

  And why should the idea bother her?

  “Then it can’t hurt to throw myself at him, can it?” Clair’s question was a welcome distraction. “If you’re sure you don’t mind?”

  Kelsey knew she should appreciate Clair’s concern for her feelings. She knew she should wish her luck with Gage. She liked Clair. She liked Gage. Why shouldn’t she like the two of them together? The only answer that came to mind was one more suited to her six-year-old son—just ‘cause.

  “Of course I don’t mind,” she said, forcing a smile that felt as phony as the words tasted. “He was going to pick Danny up from school so he should be home before too long, if you wanted to stay until he gets here.”

  “Seems to be a day for renewing old acquaintances, doesn’t it?” Clair said, giving Kelsey a warm smile.

  “Yes.” Kelsey returned the smile, wishing she could feel a little more enthused.

  She and Clair had been best friends all through high school and college. Even after their marriages had put thousands of miles between them, they’d kept in touch. She’d been genuinely pleased to learn that Clair was moving to Santa Barbara and had looked forward to renewing their friendship. She still was. Really.

  “I’ve got strawberries for dessert,” she said, moving to the refrigerator.

  It wasn’t that she wasn’t glad to see Clair. It was just that, next to Clair’s sleek sophistication, she felt old and frumpy. The khaki trousers and short-sleeved cotton shirt that had looked crisp and summery when she put them on suddenly seemed dull and boring.

  Maybe she should get a haircut, she thought as she set the bowl of strawberries on the counter. She’d kept her hair a little more than shoulder length because it was easy to take care of and she could pull it up into a ponytail and get it out of her way when she was working in the gardens. But maybe she should think about a new cut—something short and sassy.

  She spooned the sliced berries into two small bowls. And maybe she should start spending a little more time on her makeup. A dash of mascara and a dusting of blush wasn’t exactly making the most of herself. Yes, she was busy but not so busy that she couldn’t spend a few more minutes on her appearance each day.

  “These look delicious,” Clair said as Kelsey set the bowls on the table. “It’s too bad Carlos isn’t here.”

  “Your ex-husband?” Kelsey gave her a surprised look. “I thought you were glad to be rid of him. Why is it too bad he’s not here?”

  “He’s violently allergic to strawberries,” Clair said with a wicked grin.

  Kelsey laughed with her, feeling a twinge of shame at the direction her thoughts had taken. What was wrong with her? You’d think they were back in high school, competing for the same boy. She must have spent too much time in the sun.

  If Clair wanted to go out with Gage, she certainly had no objections. Good grief, it wasn’t as if she had any claim on him herself. Or wanted one, for that matter.

  Chapter 6

  She was not waiting up for him.

  There were any number of perfectly valid reasons for her to be lying awake at—Kelsey glanced at the clock—twelve-fifteen in the morning. Not one of them had anything to do with the fact that Gage had taken Clair out to dinner and a movie.

  She stared at the bedroom ceiling and enumerated some of those reasons. She’d had a busy week and was too tired to sleep. She was worried about the cabbage moths she’d seen fluttering around the broccoli this afternoon. And there was the problem of what would be ready to take to market Saturday morning. Not to mention the fact that she was too hot, though moments before she’d been sure she was too cold.

  She turned on her side and stared at the wall, which at least made a change from staring at the ceiling.

  Gage had left a few minutes after six, and she’d barely given him or Clair a thought since. She had better things to do with her time than to wonder how well they were hitting it off.

  She had noticed that Gage looked remarkably good when he walked out the door. She’d rarely seen him in anything but jeans, and it had been a mild shock when he’d
walked into the kitchen to say goodbye. Wearing a pair of gray slacks and an ice blue shirt open at the throat and with the sleeves rolled halfway up his muscular forearms, he’d looked more like a GQ model than the man she knew as her part-time roommate.

  When he’d grinned at Danny, she’d seen a more familiar Gage. But then he told the boy that he’d be out past Danny’s bedtime so he’d see him in the morning, and it had suddenly occurred to Kelsey that he might be out past her bedtime, as well. Maybe he was planning on spending the night with Clair.

  The idea had hit her with the force of a blow to the solar plexus, almost literally knocking the breath from her. She’d turned away from him, pretending to fuss with something on the counter while she tried to restore her equilibrium.

  The way Clair had maneuvered him into asking her for a date the day before, it wouldn’t be surprising if Gage had gotten the impression that dinner and a movie were going to lead straight to Clair’s bedroom. For that matter, it was possible that that was exactly what Clair had in mind.

  Maybe some signal had passed between the two of them, Kelsey thought as she stared at the shadowy outline of her dresser hours later. She hadn’t seen Clair do or say anything to imply that she was willing to entertain an overnight guest but she might have missed it.

  She turned over on her back and glared at the ceiling fixture. It was none of her business, she told herself ferociously. Gage and Clair were past the age of consent. They were both smart enough to take the necessary precautions and if they chose to spend the night together, even though they were virtual strangers, it was certainly not her concern.

  But the stern mental lecture didn’t keep unwanted images from filling her head. Gage kissing Clair with the same passion she’d tasted all those months ago. Gage’s hands on Clair’s body, his leanly muscled frame bent over hers. The two of them sprawled across a bed. Gage touching—

  “Stop it!”

  The sound of her own voice was shocking in the silent room. Kelsey came up out of bed as if the mattress had suddenly caught fire. She made her way over to the vanity, muttering under her breath when she tripped over a shoe she’d left lying on the carpet. She groped for the switch on the lamp, and a second later soft white light poured out, chasing the shadows into the corners of the room.