How To Win (Back) a Wife (Harlequin Silhouette Desire)

by Lass Small

  Kayla was so amused.

  Their conversation widened and they spoke of people they knew. They replied to questions of friends who one or the other hadn’t seen, and they talked about siblings.

  The meal was eaten but neither of them would have been able to comment on the food other than to admit it was gone. Since there would be no complaint, the meal had to have been okay.

  Of course, Tyler could cook steaks exactly right. No one can ruin baked yams, and the salad was perfect. A little ragged and some of the pieces required cutting, but the rolls were excellent and so was everything else.

  Kayla inquired, “Your mother’s rolls? They surely taste that perfect.”

  “She loves you, too.”

  Kayla smiled. She saw his parents every week.

  Kayla told him all the gossip about their shared friends, and he was shocked!

  Kayla asked, “Now, how could you be surprised? They’ve been together how long now, a year and a half? Two years?”

  “But I didn’t think they were serious!”

  Kayla waved a hand in the air as if to discourage a bee. “You sound just like a gossip.”

  He was sure. “Men never gossip.”

  She snorted. “They spread the word, the speculation—”

  “Men only tell the facts.”

  Her laugh was softly controlled, with true humor. Her eyes danced and she tried not to burst with the hilarity.

  And he knew what else he missed in not seeing her. He became serious, watching her. Her attraction was so potent. Godzilla agreed. Tyler breathed carefully so that he wouldn’t frighten her with urgent, basic, hungry sounds.

  His hunger was not for food.

  In the strange silence, with her like a bird unaware of the cleverly moving, freezing still and stalking cat that he was, she chewed the carefully cooked steak and then blotted her lips. She said, “You really know steaks. This one is perfect.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She lifted her eyebrows a little as she looked down. “Any woman cook would know to disclaim perfection.”

  “I’m an honest man.”

  She almost smiled. “You’re a jealous, stubborn man.”

  And he agreed, “That, too.”

  So she asked seriously, “Why on earth would you be jealous of me?”

  “Not of you, but of the man with you.”

  She looked around the room. “No one else is here.”

  “I hit a home run because of you.”

  “I saw it. I cried. Tom took me away so I wouldn’t seem so foolish. You’re a brilliant batter.”

  He gasped. “You saw it?”

  “Of course! And I’ve watched the other home runs.”

  His eyes were vulnerable. “Where were you?”

  “With the family. You’ve been terrific! I knew you could do it. Did it really take anger before you could hit a home run?”

  “I hate Tom Keeper.”

  “No, you don’t. You admire him and like him as a friend.

  “No.”

  “You’re acting like a kid in junior high.”

  “Yeah.”

  “All testosterone?”

  “Overflowing.”

  She sat back and regarded him seriously. “I know a cure.”

  “Ice baths?”

  She smiled just a little. “No.”

  How was he to act with that opening? How could he get her into bed with him and vent the bottled-up passionate love that was driving him crazy? And all of a sudden, he came to the conclusion that all he had to do was allow her the freedom of him. He smiled a little, watching her.

  She licked her lips and smiled back. She was watching him intently. He prayed, Don’t let the phone ring!

  He asked, “Would it scare you if I stood up?”

  “Why... stand up?” Her eyes were sparkling and intent. She was tense and breathing high in her chest. Her breasts were pushy. She was ready.

  “I’ll stand up...in order to clear the table?”

  She gasped. Then she frowned but it was over her smile. She questioned, “You want to clear the table—now?”

  “Well, if you don’t shock over my standing up, I’ll take it from there.”

  “Do it carefully.” She quickly licked her lips again.

  So, slowly, he did stand up. She looked down his body and smiled. She licked her already wet lips and looked back at his face. She said, “Yeah.”

  “Yeah? To what?”

  “You.”

  His breathing changed to harshness. “Don’t tease me. Not now.”

  “Why not?”

  “It would be unkind. I’m really triggered.”

  She tilted her head back and observed him. “There are ways to solve that.”

  “Help me.”

  “I believe I’d rather you take control. I feel a little bashful.”

  He didn’t laugh. The urge was there, but she’d turned serious. So he also became serious. Smart men walked a narrow, careful line.

  He went to her and put his hands under her armpits. He lifted her, with his wrists pushing against the sides of her pushy breasts. He was quite surprised that he could do that when she wasn’t helping at all.

  She was breathing and limp. She was very intense and serious. She didn’t knock his wrists away. She bowed her back a little as he put her against his chest and slid her down onto her feet as his mouth followed hers down and he kissed her.

  She breathed and made little sounds. He was amazed. He’d been sure that she’d be tight and distanced over having dinner with him. He’d had no idea she would allow him any attentions at all!

  The kiss was a rocket. Right through him. Godzilla was about to go off. He said, “Don’t tease.”

  And with closed eyes, she whispered, “Do it.”

  So he undid her belt with shaky hands and harsh breathing. He unzipped the back of her dress and tugged it off her arms and helped it slide down her satin slip. He said, “You trying to ruin me for any other woman?”

  “How could I do that?”

  “Just recently, you were in my bed.”

  “Ummmmm.” She said that for whatever it meant.

  “You let me.”

  She wiggled closer.

  Holding her tightly against him, he kissed her again. His shirt was off. He didn’t remember when he managed that. And his belt was undone and his zipper was opened. She was feeling around in his pants! She had done it all! What a body-hungry woman!

  His throat made a very pleased sound.

  She was gasping. Her eyelids were heavy. She made little moans. He remembered her doing that very thing! She used to do that! It pushed him higher.

  He had no trouble lifting her, carrying her. Had she weighed three hundred pounds at that time, he would have lifted her without any thought of it at all. It felt so good to have her in his arms again.

  As they entered his room, she saw that the bedroom was pristine. The sheets were crisp and clean. She asked, “Who were you expecting?”

  And he said, “Today is sheet day. I send them to the laundry with my shirts.”

  She looked at him, weighing the truth of him. And he watched her very seriously.

  “You didn’t plan to seduce me?”

  “I hadn’t a chance.”

  “Obviously, you did.”

  He smiled gently. “I love you.”

  “Maybe.”

  She was cooling.

  He put her feet on the floor, steadied her and went over to the woven laundry basket. He took off the top of it and tilted it for her to see inside. It bore two hand towels, some underwear and one shirt.

  She didn’t say anything. She didn’t move.

  He gave up. He said, “Would you like some ice cream on the pie?” And he looked at her very seriously.

  She took her slip at the bottom, lifted it off over her head and discarded it onto the floor. She wore nothing under the slip but a garter belt and stockings.

  He remembered her doing that just before they were marr
ied. He tilted his head back and groaned.

  And she said, “So you haven’t lost interest?”

  “Have you?”

  “You’ll have to work a little to get me back in heat.”

  “Do you think you can sit on a chair and have some hot apple pie okay?”

  “You’ve given up?”

  “No. I want you as hot as you were before you decided someone else was going to be here in that bed.”

  “I’ve never seen the bed made up when you were here.”

  “I’ve changed. I make it every morning. I put the clothes away and I tidy the kitchen.”

  She tilted her head and looked at him with a slight frown. “How come you’ve changed?”

  “I think it was Jamie. He’s a neat man. I decided I should be as neat.”

  “Had he been here and seen the mess?”

  “No.”

  She frowned. “Then—how did you become—changed?”

  “He treats me like an equal. He tells me if I’m wrong, but he doesn’t run over me or make me feel inferior.”

  “You’re a superior man.”

  “Thank you. I believe the time will come when I could be.”

  She was very thoughtful. “The...time...will come?”

  “I’ve a few more rough edges.”

  “Do your parents know?”

  “They love me. They are tolerant.”

  “And I was not?”

  “I didn’t leave you.”

  And she reminded him soberly, “You divorced me.”

  “I was trying to get your attention to see how serious your leaving me was to you.”

  “That’s an odd way of doing it.”

  He agreed. “You’re right. I was less mature at that time.”

  “And now?”

  “I’ve wanted you back from the time you left. That’s why I started the divorce. I thought you’d object to it.”

  Soberly, she told him, “I was stunned.”

  “Come have some of the apple pie. It’s Mother’s, so you know it’s perfect. I even have some vanilla ice cream.”

  She commented seriously, “You’ve given up on getting me into bed?”

  “It isn’t sex I want. I want you back willingly. Without any doubts about loving me.”

  “I’m embarrassed.”

  And his voice was tender. “Don’t be. It just wasn’t the way we wanted it. Instead of love, it would just be sex. Great, but not the way we wanted it.”

  Pulling on her slip, she said, “This isn’t the first time something has stopped us.”

  “You really aren’t sure of me as yet. The time will come when you are. I’ll court you all over again.”

  She smiled just a sad tad. “All over, again.”

  “Are you disappointed? Do I make you angry? You shouldn’t be. I love you, Kayla. I don’t know of a better way of proving it. It isn’t sex I want as much as I want you to love me again. Having your body is ecstasy, and it would be so anytime, but I need to know you love me. And even more important than that, you need to know that I really love you.”

  She frowned a little. “You’re becoming mature. I’m not sure I know how to match you.”

  “You’re perfect. You only need to know how much I care for and about you.”

  Kayla lifted her head back a little. “I believe every woman would thrill at hearing such a declaration, but I’m not sure I’m open to it as yet.”

  “I hope you will be.”

  She frowned at Tyler. “You’re getting different.”

  “In what way?”

  She shrugged back into her dress as she told him, “I’m not sure.” She turned and walked slowly from his room. Their once shared room. But now it was...his.

  He sighed and looked down at his anxious sex. He put his hand kindly on Godzilla in sympathy and then pulled on his trousers. He found a shirt which could be worn outside of his trousers, and he stepped into felt slippers.

  In his kitchen, Kayla was seriously concentrated in cutting the apple pie. She looked up at Tyler and her face was solemn.

  He smiled gently. “I like seeing you here again.”

  And she replied rather grimly, “You want me to wash the dishes.”

  He said, “No.” He went to her and took the knife from her hand. He thought of his old friend Bill who had always said, “Never give a woman a knife or a gun.”

  She asked, “Why the smile?”

  “I like you being here.”

  “Doing all the work for you, serving you?”

  “You’re pushing for a quarrel. Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Let’s leave the dessert here and go in the living room and talk.”

  She watched him. “About...what?”

  “Oh, life and times and home runs?” He smiled at her so kindly.

  Kayla said, “Are you going to seduce me?”

  “Not if you don’t want to.”

  “You leave it all up to me? Then you can say that I was the one who started it all.”

  “I’ve never known you to be so negative. What’s eating you?”

  So she told him, “When I let you know I would be with Tom, you didn’t come and get me.”

  “I didn’t know where the hell you were, and I was frantic. There were five balloon races that day.”

  “Oh.”

  And he pushed. “So, you knew I was jealous of Keeper.”

  “I thought I’d catch your attention.”

  He nodded in understanding. “I thought you’d protest the divorce. How come you just let me go on and do it? Didn’t you want me at all?”

  “I wanted you to come after me and demand that I go back with you.”

  “Like a caveman? I’m a little more advanced than that.”

  She said, “I dream about you.”

  He grinned. “Like I dream about you?”

  “How do you dream?” She was serious and watched him.

  “I dream you come into my room and tear off your clothes as you pull back the sheet and you’re all over me.”

  “Do you protest?”

  “I whisper ‘help, help.”’

  “Not out loud?”

  “Somebody might hear me and come to help me get away.”

  She smiled.

  He said, “I can’t tell you how nice it is for me to have you here and talking to me.”

  “You didn’t make love to me.”

  “You’d cooled. When we make love again, I want you hot and eager, not pulling back and finding fault with me.”

  “I didn’t think you’d care so long as you got what you wanted.”

  “Ahhh, Kayla, can you be that unknowing? It isn’t just sex that I want, it’s love. I want you around and well. I want you to visit with me and tell me things. I want you to want me as much and like it. I don’t want you to submit. I want you willing and eager.”

  “You’ve become... different.”

  “I believe I’m growing up. It’s Jamie who’s guided me along. I was on my way to find you and Keeper. Jamie made me find out where you might be...and it’s a good thing he did. I had no idea where or which balloon bunch I’d find. There were those five different bunches, that day, along the highway. How would I have ever found you?”

  “You could have asked my mother or your mother or just about anyone.”

  Carefully, he asked, “How did they know?”

  “I told them so’s you’d know.”

  “You wanted me to find you?”

  A little irritated, she said a sharp, “Of course.”

  And he asked softly, “Why?”

  But she replied, “I don’t know.”

  He watched her for a while. Then he told her, “When you find out why, then let me know.”

  He cut the apple pie and placed it into bowls so that they could put enough ice cream over it.

  As they sat at the table and began to eat the ice cream covered pie, she asked, “So your mother knew I’d come to have supper with you?”

 
“No. She just gave me the pie about six weeks or so ago. I froze it until I have a good reason to thaw it out.”

  “She makes good pies.”

  He watched Kayła.

  She repeated, “She does make good pies.”

  “I’m waiting for you to tell me that she makes good sons.”

  “Ego?”

  “No. I want to seem special to you.”

  “Am I special to you?”

  “You’re the only woman I’ve ever married.”

  “What would you do if I chose another man?”

  He stilled. Then he looked at her. Finally he asked, “Like Tom Keeper?”

  “I hadn’t thought about him.”

  He used his spoon to put more ice cream up onto his pie. He didn’t eat. He finally looked up and said, “If you love him, then it would be best if you go with him. I wouldn’t want to be second choice.”

  Her pupils widened in shock. She was very still.

  He got up from the table and put the pie in the disposal. He rinsed the plate and put it in the small dishwasher he’d bought over a year ago.

  She said, “I only asked a question.”

  He nodded, standing there seriously with his hands in his pockets. He was solemn and still.

  Not able to think of a way to counter the silence, she stood up and picked up the pie. She said, “I’ll take the pie home.”

  He nodded, got a plastic plate and put the pie onto it. He covered it with a paper napkin. As he handed it to her, he said, “I’ve got some papers to go over for tomorrow.”

  She said, “Oh.”

  He went into the living room, and she followed him, carrying the pie. He got her jacket from the pristinely ordered coat closet, and he helped her to put it on. He went to the front door and opened it.

  She hesitated. Then she walked out past him and went down the hall to the front door of the building. He got there first and opened it for her, and walked with her across the porch and down the steps. They said a stiff goodbye yet again. He stood at the bottom of the steps and watched her as she went to her car, got in and slowly drove away.

  Both of them went into a decline. Kayla was especially so. She did not understand why they were so far apart. After all, he was the one who needed to court her. He’d divorced her. He needed to convince her that he loved her.

  He had not. He wanted her in bed. But he wouldn’t insist. He wanted her eager and willing. Her want matching his. He neglected to sweetly coax her with honeyed words and sweet caresses.