by Gina Wilkins
Cody unintentionally initiated the first conflict. It was Saturday afternoon, only a couple of hours before he and Dana were expected at the club. He’d been out in the driveway for the past hour and a half, his head stuck under the hood of Dana’s old car. Dirty, sweaty, shirtless and thirsty, he headed for the kitchen for a cold drink before his shower.
He found Dana sitting at the kitchen table, her head propped on her hand, textbooks and notebooks spread in front of her. Her eyes were closed. Unless he was mistaken, she was asleep sitting up.
He shook his head. She was doing too much, he thought grimly. A full class load at college, six hours or more at the club every evening. Worrying about whether her car would start every morning, the constant dread of a frantic phone call from Memphis, not to mention the tension of her new living arrangements. He hadn’t liked seeing the lines developing around her mouth this past week, or the purple smudges beneath her eyes.
He was her husband, damn it. He’d promised to take care of her. It looked as though now was the time to start.
He touched her shoulder. “Dana.”
She jumped half a foot out of the chair.
Flustered, she tried desperately to regain her composure. “I, uh, sorry, you startled me,” she stammered, her hand over her heart. “I was just, um, thinking about my schoolwork.”
“You were asleep,” Cody said flatly. “You’re exhausted. You can’t keep this up, Dana.”
Her expression turned stubborn. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then let me spell it out for you. I want you to quit your job at the club.”
Her mouth opened. “You want me to do what?”
“You heard me,” he said. He turned to the refrigerator, pulled out a canned soda and opened it. He took several long, appreciative swallows before he carried it over to the table and took a chair across from Dana, who still looked as though he’d goosed her or something.
“I’m not quitting my job, Cody,” she said.
He decided to try reasoning with her. “Why?”
“I need the money.”
“No. You don’t.”
Her hands flew up in exasperation. “How can you say that? Of course I do!”
“Your tuition is paid for this semester, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but—”
“You’ve bought all your books and supplies?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“You gave up your apartment, so there’s no rent for you to worry about—and don’t start in again about paying part of my house payment,” he warned her quickly when she opened her mouth to speak. She closed it, confirming that he’d guessed correctly about her intentions.
“You think I don’t know you’ve been trying to study in the middle of the night when you should be getting some sleep?” he asked irritably. “You think I haven’t seen how tired you get at work, running from table to table after a long day of classes? Well, I do. And I don’t like it.”
“Cody, I can’t quit working. I have a car payment, insurance, other miscellaneous expenses of going to school. If nothing else, I need money for everyday expenses—tooth paste, shampoo, all the things people need money for. If you think I’m going to let you buy those things for me—”
“I’m your husband, Dana.”
She flushed. “That—that’s not relevant right now.”
Sometimes it amazed him how an obviously bright young woman could be so dense. “Not relevant?” he repeated in disbelief. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You married me to help me with Andy, not to support me while I finish school,” she insisted, not quite meeting his eyes. “I wouldn’t let Barbara support me before, and I won’t let you do so now.”
“And how the hell are you going to take care of Andy with the schedule you’ve got now?” he demanded. “You’ve got—what?—an hour free a day? And you’ve been using that up doing housework around here, even though I’ve told you it isn’t necessary.”
“I want to pull my weight around here,” she said. “As for Andy, I’ll manage.”
“How?”
She swallowed. “I’ll manage,” she repeated. “Somehow. When it’s necessary.”
“Honey, we both know it isn’t going to be too long be fore it’s necessary. Neither of us wants to face it, but we have to. Barbara doesn’t have much longer. And you can’t take care of Andy if you keep this schedule up.”
“Then I’ll quit school. At least for a while.”
So much for reasoning. He slammed his fist down on the table, startling her into jumping again. “The hell you will!”
“Cody, I—”
“Look, the reason we got married was to reassure Barbara that you wouldn’t have to sacrifice your education if you took Andy in. I promised her I would help you with him so you wouldn’t have to quit school, and damn it, I’m not breaking that promise. You can attend classes in the mornings, while Andy’s in school, and then you can be home with him in the evenings. You can do your homework and your studying together. You won’t waste your time waiting tables in the evenings. We’ve had a few applications at the club lately. I’ll hire someone else to take your place there.”
He saw the angry glitter in her eyes, the obstinate set to her chin, but he pressed on without giving her a chance to argue. “Jake and I have worked hard to make that club a success and we’re earning a good living there,” he said. “His wife works part-time at a dress shop, and that’s only because she wants something to do while their kids are in school. Jake is capable of supporting his family-and I’m damned well capable of taking care of mine.”
Dana shook her head. “I can’t let you do that,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t have to support me in addition to everything else.”
He’d worked himself up into a genuine state of wrath now. He scowled at her.
“I make my own choices,” he informed her coldly. “It was my decision to go into this marriage, and I fully intend to uphold my part of it. Barbara’s counting on me to help you-and I’m going to do it right. Is that clear?”
Dana sighed. “I don’t understand you,” she admitted helplessly. “Why are you so angry about this? Why is it so important to you?”
“Let’s just say I’m trying to prove something—to you, and maybe to myself,” he said, his tone curt. “Just as you’re trying to prove something by insisting on trying to do it all.”
She looked at him without speaking for a long time.
He met her gaze evenly. “I could always fire you,” he suggested after a moment.
She exhaled wearily, her anger seeming to slip away. “And I could always find another job,” she replied.
“But you won’t.” It wasn’t a question.
“No,” she conceded reluctantly. “I won’t.”
Satisfied, he nodded. “Good. Then you can concentrate on your schoolwork in the evenings while I’m at the club, and get some sleep at night.”
“Fine,” she said a bit shortly. “But I’m taking on more of the housework around here if you’re going to be the only one working full-time.”
“You’ll still be putting in as many hours away from the house as I am,” he stated. “Earning a degree is every bit as demanding as running a business.”
“I mean it, Cody. Either let me take over the housework, or I won’t agree to this. I have to feel that I’m pulling my weight.”
“I’ll still help out.” He had always been in the habit of picking up after himself, anyway. He didn’t intend to change
that because Dana had decided housework would assuage her conscience about leaving her job at the club.
She nodded, looking a bit sulky. Cody knew she was aware that she had lost that battle; he only hoped she’d realize eventually that he’d fought her for her own sake.
“We’ll go to the bank Monday, add your name to my checking account,” he said, daring her to argue. “Anything you need—toothpaste, shampoo, whatever those other expenses you named—you get it, yo
u hear? I’ll add you to my insurance. It’ll probably be cheaper that way than to insure us separately. As for your car payment, well, I hope it isn’t much, because to be honest, that piece of junk isn’t worth it. But we’ll discuss that later,” he said quickly, seeing the renewed spark of battle light in her eyes.
He had every intention of replacing her car as soon as he got the chance, but maybe he’d better concentrate on one skirmish at a time.
This marriage bit could be very stressful, he was learning. Hadn’t he always suspected it would be?
He noticed then that Dana was surreptitiously looking at his bare chest. Suddenly aware of how dirty and sweaty he was, he cleared his throat and stood. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“I’m going with you to the club tonight,” she called after him, a note of challenge in her voice. “I’m not quitting until you find someone to replace me.”
He only nodded and kept walking, deciding to retreat while he was ahead.
They spent Sunday in Memphis. Andy was as delighted to see them as though it had been months since they’d left, rather than a few days.
Barbara seemed equally pleased. Her condition was unchanged from the last time they were there; she was in pain, and tired easily, but she was still able to be up for a while each day. There was no reason for them to remain past the time they’d agreed to start back for home, after assuring Barbara that they were blissfully happy newlyweds and available to her at a moment’s notice should she need them.
Dana was quiet during the drive back to Percy. After a while, Cody reached out and took her hand. He didn’t say anything, just folded his fingers warmly around hers.
She clung to him gratefully, drawing strength from his silent support.
Dana pulled into the driveway at just after one o’clock on Tuesday afternoon, classes finished for the day. A wave of heat assailed her as she climbed out of her car. Though it was the second week in September, summer was still hanging on with a vengeance, the temperature still in the low nineties. She plucked at the bright red T-shirt she wore with faded jeans, shaking her head when the soft cotton stuck to her skin. The air conditioner in her car had died months ago.
Bundling her books under one arm, she climbed the steps to the front door and stuck her key in the lock. It didn’t feel quite as strange now to enter so casually, though she still couldn’t think of it as anything other than Cody’s house.
His Jeep had been parked in the driveway, so she knew he was home. “Cody?” she called.
“In here,” he called from the direction of the kitchen. “Have you had lunch?”
“No. Let me put my books away and I’ll join you.”
She’d expected to find him still in the kitchen when she came out of her room. He was waiting for her in the living room instead. Wearing a striped T-shirt and a pair of denim cutoffs, his golden hair tousled around his handsome, tanned face, he looked as though he’d stepped off “Baywatch.” All he needed was a lifeguard’s whistle.
She had to clear her throat before she could speak normally. “Have you already eaten?” she asked.
“No. I was waiting for you. Come on.” He motioned toward the door.
She lifted a questioning eyebrow. “We’re going out?”
He grinned. “Yeah. Consider yourself kidnapped.”
“Why are you kidnapping me?” she asked politely.
His smile deepening, he took her arm and led her unresistingly toward the door. “It’s our one-week wedding anniversary. We’re going to celebrate it by having some fun.”
“Fun?” she repeated as he closed and locked the front door behind them.
“Fun. You remember the word?”
“Vaguely.”
He held open the passenger door of the Jeep for her, then climbed behind the wheel. “Buckle up,” he said cheerfully. “It’s playtime!”
Intrigued despite herself, Dana snapped her seat belt and waited to see what Cody had in store for her.
What Cody had in mind was a picnic. He parked at a secluded spot by a nearby wooded lake and produced a picnic basket out of the back of the Jeep with all the flourish of a magician conjuring a rabbit.
“Just how long have you been planning this?” Dana asked in bemusement, watching as he spread a blanket on the grass and proceeded to cover it with containers of food.
“I thought of it in the shower this morning,” he admitted. “It’s been years since I was on a picnic. I thought it might be fun to share one with you.”
Curling her legs beneath her on the blanket, Dana propped her chin in her hands and watched as he filled paper plates with food. Sandwiches, raw vegetables and dip, sweet pickles, cheese cubes, deviled eggs, fruit.
“Do you really expect me to eat all that?”
He grinned and nodded. “We’ve got brownies for dessert. Made ‘em myself. From a mix, I’m afraid, but I added fresh pecans.”
“I’m impressed.”
“So you should be.” He reached over to plop a juicy cherry tomato in her mouth. “Isn’t this fun?”
She chewed and swallowed. “It’s a pleasant change of routine,” she agreed.
Cody groaned. “A pleasant change of routine?” he repeated. “That’s all you can say about it?”
“We just got here,” she reminded him. “Give me a chance to unwind a little, okay?”
“Here. Have a carrot stick. That should relax you.”
She didn’t even try to follow his reasoning. She only smiled and began to eat. Funny. She hadn’t realized quite how hungry she was. She couldn’t remember when simple food had tasted so good.
Dana had never denied that Cody could be a charming and very entertaining companion. He’d set out to make this picnic fun—and he succeeded. He soon had her laughing at his silliness, the tensions of her day forgotten-or at least set aside—if only for this brief interlude.
She drained the last drop of a chilled canned cola and shook her head when Cody offered more food. “I can’t eat another bite now,” she said.
“Not even dessert?” He looked absurdly crestfallen.
“Not yet, anyway,” she amended, oddly reluctant to disappoint him, though she couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or not.
“What you need to do is work, off your lunch,” he informed her, jumping agilely to his feet. “A little healthy exercise.”
She groaned. “Cody, it’s still at least ninety degrees. If you think I’m going to run around after a Frisbee or something in this heat.”
“I was thinking of a nice, cool swim,” he said, motioning toward the small, sparkling lake. “Wouldn’t that feel good?”
Wiping beads of perspiration from her upper lip, Dana looked longingly at the water. “Yes, it would,” she admitted. “But I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”
“No problem. Swim naked,” he suggested with a grin.
She gave him a cutting look. “I think not.”
“Come on, darlin’. We’re married. We can legally skinnydip together.”
She still wasn’t quite sure if he were serious, but there was no way she was swimming nude with him, especially not in the middle of the day when just anyone could happen upon them. “I’ll sit this one out,” she said, refusing to let him see that he’d embarrassed her. “But you go ahead if you like.
I’ll just watch.”
His grin turned wicked. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“I’ve been told it’s an awe-inspiring sight,” she replied without a pause.
He laughed and reached down to haul her unceremoniously to her feet. “Why, Dana Carson,” he said. “I believe there is a sense of humor lurking inside that serious head of yours, after all.”
She still couldn’t get used to being called Dana Carson. She opened her mouth to tell him she would continue to use her maiden name, but somehow his lips got in the way. She hadn’t even realized his intention to kiss her until she found herself pressed against him, her mouth being thoroughly, lazily, savoringly explored by his.
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nbsp; By the time he released her, the heat inside her had nothing to do with the warm weather. “Your swimsuit’s in the back of the Jeep,” he murmured, his lips moving against hers. “You can change in the bushes, if you want. I’ll swim in my cutoffs.”
With that, he broke away from her, stripped off his shirt and shoes and dove neatly into the lake, leaving Dana to stare openmouthed after him.
He’d brought her swimsuit? She opened the back of the Jeep and found the royal blue maillot lying neatly folded on a beach towel. She blushed to the roots of her hair, remembering that she’d put the suit in her lingerie drawer. Had Cody noticed that she had a decided preference for delicate little bits of lace beneath her more practical jeans and T-shirts?
Something told her he’d noticed.
She thought of yelling at him for going into her room, pawing uninvited through her things. And then she remembered the look in his eyes when he’d served her picnic lunch, and thought of the time he must have spent preparing the simple meal. He’d wanted her to have fun, she thought, touched despite herself by the gesture.
And she found she couldn’t spoil the outing he’d planned for her.
Carrying the towel over her arm, she headed for the thickest clump of bushes she could find. She hadn’t undressed outdoors in years, not since she was a kid on family camping trips, but there seemed to be no other choice at the moment. Not if she wanted to get into that lovely, cool water.
She changed in record time. Tossing her clothing in a pile beside Cody’s shirt and shoes, she waded into the water, gasping when it lapped against her calves. “It’s cold,” she said, looking at Cody, who watched her from several yards away.
“Feels great once you get in,” he assured her.
A bit self-conscious beneath his scrutiny, she minced deeper, shivering. And then she caught her breath in a strangled cry when her foot came down on a slippery rock and shot out from beneath her.