Why didn’t she have a photo of Theo, so she could bring herself to climax while staring at him and fantasize about him touching her?
Hell, it’s going to be a long night.
Maybe if she wrote a sexy scene into her novel, that would help her deal with her naughty hormones.
Her characters weren’t ready for full-on lovemaking. They had hardly passed the tolerating-one-another stage. Yes, the attraction had stirred, but the mutual respect and appreciation hadn’t blossomed yet.
For a woman, respect was vital before sex. Well, so she’d believed all these years. So, her mom had taught her as a teenager. Wait…could that be the case with me and Theo? Her head hurt thinking about it. Did I jump into bed with a hot man without liking him first?
Shame seeped through her. If Maggie knew. And Sally. Sensitive, vulnerable, moldable, Sally. What would she think of her older sister?
Tears ran down her cheeks.
I can’t lie to Maggie anymore. I have to tell her the truth.
Closing her laptop lid, she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Maggie’s light still shone from her room. Now or never.
She froze, unable to go to her sister and explain, yet loathe to return to bed, knowing she’d lied to her beloved ones. That’s what Leonora had been most upset about—her supposed secrecy. Biting her lip until it hurt, she tried to hold in the sobs. Instead, her guilt began in her belly and came out in a huge gush, echoing through the empty hallway.
Maggie burst out of the room. “What’s wrong, Jo? Please tell me.”
Remorse sliced at her from the panic in her sister’s voice.
“I have to tell you something.”
“Of course. Come to my room.”
“No.” Her voice sounded so sharp Maggie’s eyes went wide. Her sister had matured, though. She sensed a strength in her that hadn’t been there before.
“Okay. Your room?”
“The lounge.”
Maggie nodded and led her to the living room, sitting close to her, hugging her to her side. “What’s happened? I’ve never seen you like this. Even at Aunt Edna’s funeral. That’s it. You miss her. You were so close.”
Joanie pulled a tissue from the box on the table, blew her nose then attempted to compose herself. “I do miss her, but that’s not it.”
Fear flickered across Maggie’s gaze. “Are you sick?”
Joanie fisted her hands. “No, I’m fine. I’m healthy as a horse. I-I’ve lied to you.”
Her eyebrows rose. “About what?”
“Let me start from the beginning. I don’t know if you’re going to believe me, but here goes….” She relayed the story about the bureau and Theo, how he’d come into her life, leaving out the sexual details.
“So, you sent him away because I was coming?” Maggie asked.
“Of course. I couldn’t let you find a strange man in the house.”
“Why not? You’re an adult.”
She released a heavy sigh. “I’m also supposed to set a good example to my younger sisters.”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “You kind of messed it up in that regard.”
“I know.” She sucked in a breath. “I should have kicked him out, but the magic wouldn’t let me.”
“I’m not talking about that. You were the perfect sister. You always cared for us, made sure we had enough, cared tirelessly for Aunt Edna, and laid your life down for everyone, yet ignored your own needs.” She squeezed Joanie’s shoulder. “Sally and I have felt like we could never measure up. We’ve always had a driving need to please everyone around us. Only the last year or so, I’ve realized that if I don’t meet my own needs, too, I’m pretty useless to everyone else.”
“But, that’s exactly it. I’m divorcing Theo because he’s taking my freedom away. This is the year for Joanie. This and the next four years. After that, I may consider someone else. I’m being very selfish.”
“It’s about flippin’ time. And we’re glad, but the way you were when we were at home is still embedded in our brains.” She tucked her feet beneath her and sat back with her head resting on her palms. “We still see you as a saint. We can’t see you as human. Well, I do now. Sally still doesn’t. I’m so glad you’ve had a strange, interesting thing happen to you.” She grinned. “I knew something was up. As soon as I came home, I could sense it.”
“But Theo hid his stuff….” Heat rose to her cheeks. “Or did he leave something in your room? I’ll climb into him if he comes back, which I don’t think is going to happen if I can help it.” Maybe Maggie’s arrival had provided the perfect opportunity to get rid of him.
“He didn’t leave any signs. You gave me all the signs.”
“What do you mean?” Joanie clenched her fists.
“I could see your hard shell had begun to shatter.”
“What hard shell? I’m a real softy. I cry in movies, I cry when I read a happy ending in a book.”
“That’s a tiny crack in the neatly constructed wall around your heart, and you’ve let a bit of light peep through. Now, the wall is beginning to crumble, and I like it. Theo’s done that to you. You’ve fallen in love with him, haven’t you?”
Joanie bolted to her feet. “How the hell did you come to that conclusion?”
Maggie smiled. Where was the timid, almost submissive sister who’d left home years ago? She’d become a “teachy” adult who’d told her all about herself, and Joanie didn’t like it. Not one bit.
“I can see it in your eyes.” She winked, and her grin widened. “You miss him, don’t you?”
“I gave you no impression I wanted him to stay.”
“No, you didn’t have to. You’ve been pining all night.”
Joanie paced the room, considered marching into her bedroom and slamming the door, but her sister had come from across the province to visit her. She deserved respect at least.
Maggie stood and placed her hand on her shoulder. “Sorry, I’ve become a bit straightforward. Working with teenagers every day has made me like that.”
“It’s good you’ve toughened a bit.” Joanie nibbled her bottom lip. “Do you really think I’m in love with him?”
“I do.” Her voice sounded soft and girlish again. “I had a feeling you were in love before you even told me about Theo.”
“Why?” Joanie so didn’t want to hear this. But she should give her sister the chance to speak, though—in respect to her.
“Your eyes glow, and your face gets all dreamy. Every now and then, you stare off into space for no reason with a crazy, hungry look in your eyes.”
She grabbed Maggie by the shoulders. “You tell anyone about this and you’re dead meat.” Her voice held some tease.
Her sister jerked away. “I wouldn’t do that.” She appeared hurt. “You know I’m not a snitch.”
Joanie nodded. Let her sister believe she’d fallen in love as much as she liked. At least it made her happy in a way. What a relief Maggie had taken the whole thing better than she’d imagined.
“I’m going to bed.” Joanie sniffed, glad the tears had dried. “You should, too.”
“Yes, Sis.” Sarcasm laced her words. “Guess what, Joanie? I’ve grown up, remember? I’m an adult.”
“Argh, I keep on forgetting.” She winked at Maggie and flicked her fringe back, a gesture that had annoyed her sister as a kid. Maggie grabbed for Joanie’s stomach and dug in with a nasty tickle.
Joanie ran down the hallway, giggling, and thought of Theo tickling her on the bed, Theo helping her with her writing, and Theo making gentle, reverential love to her.
Goodness, I miss him.
Love him? No, that’s a stupid, younger-sister idea. But I do miss his hot bod and his company.
She packed her laptop and pulled on her nighty which still smelled of sex from the morning.
A tentative knock sounded on the door.
Covering herself with the sheets, she called for Maggie to come in, hoping her sister didn’t know the smell of sex.
�
��If you want him to come home, you can ask him. He can stay in Sally’s room.”
Forgetting her previous fear, Joanie jumped out of bed. “No way.”
“Why not?”
“I will not have another man in my house while you’re here.”
“You are married to him.”
Her hands became fists. “I told you that was all forced on me.”
Maggie gave her a wicked grin. “Well, enjoy it while it lasts. I’m not about to be the killjoy in the whole thing.”
Joanie moved forward to tackle her sister, but she made a dash for it.
“I could call him on your behalf,” she yelled from the end of the hallway, holding Joanie’s phone in the air with a taunt.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would, too.”
“I’ll get you for this. You’ll never ever get lasagna again in your whole life.” Happiness streaked through her as she ran after her sister. How good to have her baby monkey over. Okay, not so little anymore.
Maggie climbed into the shower and held the sliding glass door closed with one hand, dialing the cell phone with the other.
She’s really doing it? Joanie knocked on the door, trying to drown out Maggie’s voice on the line. She didn’t want to yank on the handle in case the glass broke.
“Hi, Theo. Hi, my name’s Maggie. I’m Joanie’s sister. No, she’s fine. Nothing’s wrong. No, she’s not hurt. I just want to say she’s missing you and wants you to come stay here. You can sleep in Sally’s room.”
“Maggie, no. I don’t want him home. I never ever want him back. Ever again.” Her voice came out loud and echoed throughout the tiled bathroom.
Maggie stared at Joanie. Then she spoke.
“Yes, she did.” She paused, a frown overshadowing her eyes. “I’ll tell her, then. Bye.”
“What happened?” Joanie’s heart sank.
“He could hear you. He’s never returning.” Her eyebrows drew together. “You should have heard the hurt in his voice.”
“So what? He doesn’t love me. The furniture forced him to be married to me. It’s all a stupid farce, a stupid ancient magic that’s playing with our lives.”
“You needn’t have been so mean about it,” her sister snapped. “The guy obviously loves you.”
“How would you know? You’ve only spoken to him once in your whole life.”
Maggie shrugged. “I knew I shouldn’t have interfered. You’re the older sister. I’m the middle one. Who am I to tell you what to do?” Her face crumpled with tears. Opening the shower door, she slipped past Joanie and stormed off. A moment later, her bedroom door slammed.
Great! Now I’ve hurt my sister. Joanie returned to her bedroom, climbed under the covers, and tossed and turned until she fell into a fitful sleep.
Chapter Fifteen
“I came to fetch my stuff.” Theo stood outside the doorway the next evening with a large box and a suitcase by his feet.
Maggie stood next to Joanie, staring at him as though he resembled a thick slab of chocolate. “Hi, Theo. I’m Maggie.”
“Hey, Maggie.” He shifted his focus. “Joanie, I won’t be long. Just want to get my stuff.”
She moved aside to let him pass. Remain unemotional. The last thing I want is another fight with my sister. At least we reconciled over breakfast.
Somehow, the understanding they’d reached hadn’t brought the relief she’d longed for. Plus, her night had been hell. She’d slept three hours at the most. Every few minutes, she’d popped awake, eyes wide open, and her heart squeezed tight for hurting Theo. She’d pictured the expression he must have had on his face when she’d said she never wanted to see him, ever again.
It’s not like he didn’t know her plans. But they had shared some intimate moments together. She could have eased him away in a kinder manner.
No going back. She’d woken this morning determined to stick to her hardness, and maybe it would hurry him along in the whole process.
He carried a heavy box through to his car then returned, heading down the hallway. On his way, he dropped off a folder on the telephone table.
“The papers. All filled in and signed for you.” He spoke with finality and a tone devoid of the tenderness he usually gave to her.
Joanie’s heart sank down to her feet. She blinked away some tears and nodded. The time had come to end the marriage. No magic would stop her from doing what had to be done, what was best for her future and her life.
“Can I help you pack?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “I’m just chucking everything in the suitcase. Will tidy when I get home.”
Home. Here wasn’t his home. He had another home. A place she’d never even seen.
Why so soppy about a guy she didn’t know well enough to have even been in his house?
“Well then, Joanie. Have a nice life.” He strode toward his car without even looking back. No wave, no hug, no kiss…nothing.
Was he punishing her?
Cool it, Joanie. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?
She closed the door behind her and faced her sister. Sobs escaped her. No, she couldn’t deal with Maggie. Instead, she ran to her bedroom and flung herself onto the bed.
Maybe Maggie was right. Maybe I do love him. How confusing can life get?
***
Three days later, the suitcase still remained at the foot of his bed. Theo’d left the clothes inside, unable to unpack them.
He walked to the suitcase, heaved it onto the bed, and opened it. It’s time. She doesn’t want me in her life. This will be the final action toward the end of our relationship.
He’d thought things were progressing until she’d thrust those divorce papers in his face before he left for work, the morning after they’d slept together and made love several times.
He’d read online somewhere women became attached to the men they slept with. He’d hoped the night she snuck in and snuggled with him in that tiny bed would change the dynamic between them—that Joanie would love him. How wrong could he have been?
If she regretted kicking him out, she would have phoned him. Three days and he’d heard nothing.
He approached the chest of drawers and thumped his fist on it. “So much good you’ve done me. Messed up my life. Taunted me.” He’d actually believed the magic could work. I’m so stupid. Magic isn’t foolproof. Most likely the matchmaker ghost deemed Joanie a case too hard to deal with and left to work his magic on another couple.
He flung the clothes into the drawers.
The question was, had he given up on her?
“Argh.” He let his groan fill the room. “No. I can’t quit on her.”
What have I done? She has the divorce papers, and I didn’t contest the divorce. I’m an idiot. It’s over. He grabbed the last few pairs of socks from the suitcase and paused. No. I can’t lose her. But I don’t want to force myself on her either.
“You’d better tell me what to do.” He must be crazy, talking to a piece of furniture. “Because I’ve run out of options.”
He stuffed the socks he still held into the top drawer. His finger knocked on something sharp.
He pulled the drawer out farther to see what he’d bumped. He didn’t want to cut himself on something or the structure to fall apart. Tucked at the end of the drawer, he found a matchbox-sized container with an embellished metal clasp. He squinted to read the miniscule writing on the lid.
“Schroeder.” That was the name of the matchmaker. Goose bumps ran along his arms, sending a shiver through his body. Somehow, he sensed a connection with the strange man who lived over a hundred years ago.
He pulled on the clasp to see if the box would open. Nothing budged. He fiddled with the clasp which loosened slightly. He hesitated. What could be inside? Maybe papers belonging to Martinus Schroeder?
With more toggling, the box at last opened. He peered inside, and disappointment filled him. There didn’t seem to be anything inside. He shook it, but nothing rattled.
No. There has to be something. He pressed his finger in. A tiny ridge of a paper lodged above the texture of the wood. With his nail, he picked at the edge until he could pull it out. Unfolding the scrap, he tried to read the minute writing on the paper, but the yellowed sheet was only about an inch square with ink-smudged writing. Nope, I’m going to need a magnifying glass.
Remembering he’d dumped his model box on the table when he came in, he dashed downstairs to the kitchen. Opening the box, he scrounged for the magnifying glass. But it wasn’t there.
A sick, hard ball formed in his stomach.
I left it at Joanie’s place in the side table drawer in the dining room. The winter sun had streamed in through the window, straight through the magnifying glass, and onto her shiny pine table. The last thing he had wanted was to start a fire in her home, so he’d tucked it away.
The hurt of her words ringing over the cell line—so final, so sure, so lethal—slammed into him. His chest squeezed tight with pain. They’d slept in the same bed the night before, made smokin’ hot love, and spooned into one another like a true married couple. The deep satisfaction of having a woman to love had been torn from him by the overheard heartless words relayed to her sister.
Had she only been after sex? Or had she used him to forward her writing? Amazing how she’d changed toward him after he’d spent hours working with her, giving her inside knowledge on what editors and publishers looked for—the stuff many writers spent thousands on writing conferences and writing courses to grasp.
He shook his head. Seemed the magic had messed him around.
The paper. He needed to know what the writing on the paper said. He could always go to Darren and Kirsty. They’d probably already read it themselves. What if they hadn’t? What if it said something valuable which made them regret selling the units? What if this paper could bring Joanie and him together?
What to do? Go to Darren and Kirsty or risk Joanie’s wrath? He stared out the window at the trees in his yard, waving in a breeze. A beautiful Durban winter’s day—cool and clear, full of promise.
Even if Joanie doesn’t desire me, she needs me. Crazy as it may sound to someone else, she’s better with me. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. She’d never admit it, but she needs love. She spent so many years nurturing others she’s closed off her heart. That was what drew him to her so much. He wanted to be the one to bring out the sparkle to her eyes, her giggle, the ability to relax and have fun. She’d started to thaw out the last day or so when he stayed with her.
Her Real-Life Hero Page 13