Reclaiming My Wife

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Reclaiming My Wife Page 6

by Jessica Blake

“I barely survived the first time, Danielle. I don’t know if I can go through it again.”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Danielle leaned over and wrapped her arms around me. “You can’t blame him for what happened.”

  “I know, and I don’t exactly, but when I needed him, he wasn’t there. Danielle, I lost…” I swallowed hard. Even after all this time, it was hard for me to think about it. “I lost our baby. I know he blames me.”

  Blames me for getting knocked up.

  Blames me for the loss of our child.

  Blames me for the months I spent in bed, unable to cope with it all.

  “No. He doesn’t blame you. Look, a miscarriage is hard enough, but you two were so young. You didn’t know how to deal with it. Maybe now you can.”

  Dealing with emotions. It was something I should have been a pro at considering I was supposed to be helping other people deal with theirs. Except…

  “I dealt with my miscarriage,” I said as I straightened. “And I’ve gotten my life in order. I’m not about to let a hurricane named Brendan Ward wreck it all for me. We just need to have another adult conversation about it and come to a more reasonable conclusion.”

  “You and Brendan are going to be reasonable? You two never did anything without passion, and that included fighting.”

  “That was a long time ago. We don’t share that kind of passion anymore. In fact, we had dinner a few nights ago, and things were very civil.” I was stretching the truth just a little. There were more than a few instances when I’d been less than civil. He, on the other hand, had been a cool customer the whole time.

  “What was it like to see him again? And don’t lie to me.”

  “It was… shocking. I mean, I didn’t think I’d ever see him again. He moved back to his hometown. Took over his father’s ranch. Has a lot of money.”

  “I don’t suppose he got fat and ugly?” Danielle asked as she leaned across and grabbed a cold slice of pizza. “The way that man filled out a pair of jeans would make any woman’s panties wet.”

  I wanted to be mad, but I couldn’t help but agree. “No. He did not get fat and ugly. In fact, he only got better looking with age.”

  “You’re still a hot tamale yourself. Maybe if you show him a little shoulder, he’ll be more agreeable. He was so in love with you.”

  “Lust,” I corrected automatically. “He was in lust with me.”

  “Oh, honey.” She shook her head sadly. “For such a smart cookie, you can sometimes be so dumb.”

  Glaring at her, I reached out and snatched the pizza out of her hand. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that you have unfinished business with Brendan Ward, and if you really want to put this whole mess behind you, you’ll take those few months, spend it with him, and figure it out.”

  “I can’t just run off to One-Horse-Town California. Even besides my job and my dissertation, I have a boyfriend.”

  Scrunching up her face, Danielle shuddered. “No. No, you are not allowed to call Don your boyfriend. I just can’t handle that. And like I said, you can work on your dissertation while you’re with him. Hell, you might actually get some clarity and really be able to focus on it. Stop searching for excuses.”

  She was right, of course, and I hated that. My reasons for refusing Brendan’s proposal were dwindling, but that didn’t change the facts. I just couldn’t be around Brendan and not feel the pain of everything that he represented. I’d failed as a mother. I’d failed as a wife. Hell, now I was failing as an ex-wife.

  Shaking my head, I stood. “I just can’t. I’ll just have to tell him no and deal with the consequences.”

  After escaping to my room, I closed the door softly and leaned against it. I’d buried all of this, and it was just bubbling to the surface. I couldn’t handle it then, and I just didn’t think that I could handle it now.

  Hell, I didn’t care if Brendan never gave me a divorce. It wasn’t like I ever planned to get married again. Brendan could stay my husband until we were both dead and gone, but he’d have to do it quietly and far, far away from me.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Brendan

  “So, you’re still living it up in the city?” Gordon lounged on the hotel bed and swallowed the shot of whiskey that he’d swiped from the wet bar. “When are you going to come to your senses and leave that dusty ranch behind?”

  “That dusty ranch pays you a pretty penny in attorney fees,” I muttered as I gazed out the window. Even when I was in college, I always felt out of place in L.A. I’d felt too crowded, too invisible amongst the buildings and millions of people. Ward Ranch was my home.

  “I give you the friends and family discount too,” he chuckled. “Still, it’s annoying to have to travel all that way just to see you. So, how’s the mission going? Jillian on board?”

  “She’s stubborn.” I pushed away from the incredible view and poured myself a drink. “But she’ll come around. I’m not happy about blackmailing her, but I don’t see too many options. Have you discovered who my competitor for the land is?”

  Gordon grimaced. “Unfortunately, no. I can’t even dig up a rumor of competition, and Harry isn’t an easy man to follow. He’s a spry guy for someone who’s supposed to be dying. There is, however, plenty of talk when it comes to his son.”

  “As in, he’s planning to keep Harry’s ranch going for generations to come?”

  Gordon snorted. “As in, rumor has it that he’s already looking for buyers for the horses. Whatever his plans are, it’s not to keep a horse ranch up and running. Officially, he can’t do anything, but he’s quietly circulating rumors.”

  Shooting back the whiskey, I tried to keep a tight lid on my temper. “What a piece of dirt. It’s like he doesn’t even care about the Blackwell name. I have got to buy that land.”

  Gordon snickered. “Your plan is foolproof. Convince the woman who publicly threatened to maim you to live with you for a few months. Hope she’s a good enough actress to fool Harry into thinking that you two are blissfully in love. Oh, and try not to screw it up by doing something stupid like sleeping with her.” I looked at him sharply, but he just shook his head. “You forget, I knew what you were like when you two were together.”

  “It’s not like that anymore.”

  I wanted her. I’d want Jillian Quinn until the day I died, but after what happened, I knew that she’d never let me touch her again. She blamed me for ruining her life.

  Hell, I blamed me too.

  “It will always be like that with you two. You’re a fool to think otherwise.”

  Growling, I poured myself another glass. “You think that I don’t know how much she hates me? How much more she’ll loathe me by the time this is all over with?” I knocked that one back too. “You should see her, Gordon. She’s so different. She’s got this wall of ice around her.”

  “You may not like the woman she’s become, but she’s driven and ambitious. When she graduates next spring and gets her license, she may very well become a huge success. You know that she has Cindy Collins as a client? With enough money, she’d have a very successful practice.”

  “Good for her. I’ll give her whatever money she needs to make that happen.” I tried not to sound bitter about it. Never once did I think that she was pining for me. We both went our separate ways.

  I was successful. She was successful.

  There was just a time when I thought we’d be successful together.

  “But first she has to play the role of the happy wife in your happy home?” Sarcasm dripped from Gordon’s words. “Your sister will blow her top if you bring Jillian back to the ranch.”

  “I can take care of my sister,” I grumbled. “And I can handle Jillian.”

  Gordon snorted and reached down for his briefcase. “You’re living in a dream world, man, and I’m happy that I’m not in your shoes. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some money to make.”

  “Thanks for stopping by to drink my alcohol and lend your unwavering support,�
� I snarled. He was unfazed by my bad mood and just gave me a cheeky smile before exiting the hotel room.

  I didn’t have the situation as handled as I wanted Gordon to think. I promised Jillian that I’d give her time to think about it, but I hadn’t heard from her in two days. She couldn’t dodge me. We were legally bound, but she was obviously trying to find a third option.

  How would she react when she realized that she didn’t have one? Would I get to see another crack in that stone foundation of hers?

  As if she knew that I was thinking about her, my phone rang. “Hello, sweetheart,” I said with a lazy drawl as I answered. I didn’t want her to know that my heart was racing in anticipation.

  “Brendan,” she said in a clipped tone. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t call me that.”

  “I could think of a few other things to call you,” I teased, the words coming out before I could stop them.

  “That won’t be necessary.” Her voice rose an octave. “I just called so that we could schedule a meeting. We have a few more things to discuss. Will tomorrow morning work for you?”

  I gritted my teeth. “You want to schedule a meeting with me?” I repeated slowly. “Jillian, even if you don’t want to call me your husband, you have to at least acknowledge that I’m not someone you need to schedule a meeting to see.”

  “You’re trying to propagate a business arrangement with me, and I simply want to discuss this in a professional atmosphere. Will tomorrow work for you?”

  “Jillian, I—”

  “Great. I’ll pencil you in for ten in the morning at the coffee shop on Third and Tristan Street. We’ll talk then.”

  Before I could argue with her, she hung up. Irritated, I stared at the phone. Her attitude didn’t surprise me, but it pissed me off.

  If Jillian thought that she had the upper hand, she had another thing coming. Humming to myself, I called Gordon. “You jotted down a copy of Jillian’s schedule, right? Can you send it to me?”

  “Sure. Because stalking her will go over so well,” Gordon grumbled, but my phone alerted me to his new email. Thanking him, I hung up and opened her schedule. Jillian didn’t have work tonight, so if I knew her the way I thought I knew her, my bet would be that I’d find her at the library.

  Taking a deep breath, I gathered my things. There were a few things that we used to do to entertain ourselves in a university library, and it wasn’t studying.

  If she wanted to meet and talk, she could do it tonight.

  ***

  After a quick scan of the library, I discovered that she wasn’t there. Rather than get discouraged, I did another round and found what I was looking for. An innocent undergraduate who also looked like he lived at the library and probably took note of any attractive female who walked through those doors.

  “Excuse me. I was wondering if you could help me. I was supposed to meet someone here, but I think she’s gotten a little lost in her dissertation again, and I’ve lost her phone number. Do you know Jillian Quinn?”

  The boy’s face went immediately red. “Jillian? Yeah, I know her. She’s usually in the cubicles, but if you can’t find her there, then you’ll probably find her at Dr. Augusta’s office. He’s got a ton of literature.”

  I bit back my impatience. “And his office would be…?”

  “Oh, psych building. Second floor. Room 212. Listen, man, when you see her, will you be sure to tell her that Brian helped you out?”

  Poor kid. I patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll be sure to do that. Thanks, man.”

  The psych building was on the other side of the campus. As I strolled across, I thought about my own experiences in college. I was full of anger when I started. Angry at the things that my father had said. Angry at the fear that I’d never amount to anything.

  In response, I’d thrown myself in the college life and was prepared to dominate. I ran full force at everything, and it wasn’t until a certain tall and leggy blonde knocked the wind right out of me that I stopped.

  I first met her when I was on a date with another girl during the first week of my senior year. We were walking back from a trip to the beach when I saw Jillian sunbathing on the campus quad. Tight little jean shorts. Red bikini top. Her hair had been piled on top of her head, showing off her slender neck. She was thumbing through a textbook, but when I walked by, she looked up and gave me the sultriest smile.

  I’d dropped the girl off at her dorm and immediately went back to search for her, but she was gone. In fact, I chased Jillian for a full month before I even learned her name and discovered she was a freshman.

  It had been a long and torturous month.

  Entering the psych building, I took the steps two at a time until I found the professor’s office. The door was open, and when I walked in, I stopped dead and stared.

  Jillian wasn’t dressed for the library. She was in a knockout green dress that hugged her curves and showed off her shapely legs. As she leaned over to buckle her shoes, her cleavage deepened, and her blonde hair fell over her shoulder.

  “Don, I’m not really comfortable with this,” she said, her voice more timid than I’d ever heard it. “Couldn’t you just schedule dinner with them?”

  “Jillian, I’ve already explained this. They are very busy men, and their time here is short. I do not understand your reservations. Normally, you enjoy dining with me. Do you not own a dress in a flashier color? Perhaps red.”

  Anger swelled inside me. How dare this man ridicule her dress. She looked beyond amazing. She didn’t need to wear something flashier. She was perfect just as she was.

  Just as I was about to say something, I stopped, realizing what was happening in front of me. Jillian had called the man “Don.” Not Dr. Augusta. She wasn’t dressed for her advisor.

  She was dressed for her date.

  Well, damn.

  “I, for one, always liked her in green,” I said in a lazy drawl as I leaned against the door.

  Jillian gasped, and for a moment, I was certain she might collapse straight to the floor.

  Don just looked up with a bored expression on his face. “Office hours are over. If you want to discuss your paper, you’ll need to return on Monday.”

  “I’m definitely not a student, professor.” I crossed my arms and cocked my head. “Is she yours?”

  “Brendan,” Jillian hissed. Straightening, she ran her hands down her dress. I recognized the move well. She was nervous. “Don is my boyfriend.”

  I snorted. “Your boyfriend? That has to be a joke.”

  The boyfriend removed his glasses and glared at us. “I’m sorry. Who are you?”

  “I’m her hu—”

  “Old friend,” Jillian practically yelled while she shot me a deadly look. “I’m sorry, Don. I asked him to meet me here so I could have a word with him before dinner. Will you excuse us please? We’ll only be a minute.” She glared at me as she grabbed the front of my shirt and pushed me out of the doorway. I let her drag me all the way down the hall and around the corner before I wrapped my fingers around her wrist, whirled her around, and shoved her up against the wall.

  “If you wanted some alone time with me, darling, all you had to do was ask,” I teased, my lips just inches from hers.

  She shoved at my chest. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “I might ask you the same. When we were together, you always thought it was tacky when the professor fucked the student.”

  “We’re not fucking,” she hissed just as her face flamed a pretty pink. “Ignore that. What I meant to say is that I am not his student, and he has never been my professor. We have a strictly personal relationship.”

  “Personal, but not fucking? Maybe it’s because you know there isn’t an ounce of passion in that man, and I definitely didn’t see any chemistry between the two of you. And what is tonight? Is he showing you off to his other stuffy colleagues? Maybe hoping to barter you for tenure?”

  Fire burned in her eyes, and she raised her hand to slap me, bu
t I deflected the blow by grasping her wrist. I deserved the hit. I was being a complete asshole, but it wasn’t just jealousy. She was going down a dangerous path if she thought that dating the asshole in the office was the answer.

  “You are out of line,” she whispered. “I don’t give a damn what the legal system says. We are divorced, and you don’t get to tell me what to do with my life.”

  I leaned closer, until my lips were just centimeters from hers. “So, as your boyfriend, I’m sure he knows all about your ex-husband. And I’m sure the first thing that you told him was that we screwed up, and you’re still married. Since he’s your boyfriend, and you really care about your relationship with him and all.” I smiled, unable to help myself. “Right, Jillian?”

  She growled low in her chest, and for a second I thought she might take a bite out of my nose. “It’s because I care about my relationship with him that I want to resolve this without involving him. And it is also because I care about my relationship with him that I don’t want to put it in danger by going to live with you for the summer and pretend that we’re blissfully happy!” She glared at me, but as the seconds passed, her expression softened. Her lips opened, and her breathing deepened.

  “I have a resolution for you. Why don’t you tell your boring boyfriend that you’re taking a sabbatical to work on your paper? I’m sure he’ll be on board with that. As a man who loves you, I’m sure he only cares about your future, right?” The sarcasm nearly burned my tongue.

  She fought against my hold. “If you’re insinuating that he’s using me, then maybe you should take a look in the mirror. You’re threatening to sabotage my career if I don’t do what you want, remember?”

  I wished it were that easy, but this was no longer about Harry’s ranch. The more time I spent with Jillian, the more time I wanted to spend with her. It was becoming more and more obvious that I wasn’t reopening an old wound. Our wounds had never healed, and maybe it was time we put our business to bed once and for all.

  Bed.

  With Jillian.

  My cock hardened immediately at the thought, and I dipped my head, giving into the craving I’d had for so long.

 

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