He’d finally decided to make dinner, grateful for any activity that momentarily took possession of his mind, keeping troubling thoughts away.
A salad was made and waiting in the refrigerator, the pasta had been boiled—all he needed was for Meghan and Kirk to get home.
He sat at the table, wondering if she’d managed to discover any information for him today. If anyone could pick up signs of Simon’s whereabouts, Meghan could do it. She was incredibly bright and superior at her job.
He stood as he heard the sound of a key turning in the lock. He left the kitchen and met Meghan in the entry hall. Her cheeks were flushed a charming pink from the cold and like the day before, Kirk was snuggled against her chest sound asleep.
“You want me to take him for you?” he offered.
“No. I can handle him,” she replied. She moved past him down the hallway to the nursery.
She didn’t even want him putting the kid to bed. He hadn’t returned here to become a parent, so why was that so much on his mind?
She reappeared a moment later and shrugged out of her coat.
“Here, I’ll take it.” She’d give him her coat, but didn’t trust him with his son, he thought as he hung her garment in the hall closet.
“Something smells good,” she said as they walked to the kitchen.
“Spaghetti sauce.” He gestured her into a chair at the table, then went to the refrigerator and withdrew a bottle of wine.
He knew her routine, knew she wouldn’t eat a bite until she had a glass of wine and unwound a little. He poured them each a glass, then joined her at the table. “Does Kirk always nap at this time?”
She nodded and took a sip of her wine. He heard the clunk of shoes beneath the table and knew she’d kicked off her heels. “Almost every evening the ride home in the car lulls him to sleep.” She paused a moment to take another drink of her wine, then continued. “When he was just a couple months old he had colic, and the only way I could get him to sleep was to drive around and around the block.”
For the first time Seth wondered how difficult it had been for her so far as a single parent. Had there been nights she’d wished for a companion, somebody to help ease the burden or simply to hold her after a long night with the baby?
Seth got up to stir the sauce, uncomfortable with the direction of his thoughts.
“So, other than cooking dinner, how did you spend your time today?” she asked.
“I watched all the soaps, then went through all your dresser drawers.” He laughed as she nearly spit a mouthful of wine. “Just kidding.”
The doorbell rang and Meghan’s smile faded into a frown of worry. “I wonder who that could be?” She jumped up and hurried from the kitchen.
She returned a moment later carrying a gorgeous Christmas flower arrangement. Bright scarlet poinsettias were offset by miniature red and gold drums and a big gold bow.
“That’s pretty,” he said, wondering why she carried it as if it were a ticking time bomb.
She nodded absently and set it on the table. Biting her bottom lip she withdrew the small card from its envelope. As she read, the wrinkle across her forehead disappeared and her lips curved up in a smile. “Oh, thank goodness. I thought it might be another note from Jonah.”
“Another note?”
She placed the card back in the envelope and tucked it back into the arrangement, then sat once again at the table. “Today in my lunch I found a note from Jonah saying that the package had disap peared from the eagle’s nest.” The wrinkle returned to her forehead. “You think we should be worried?”
“Nah, if Jonah knew I was here, I’d have already heard from him. I think he was just giving you a heads up.”
She nodded. “That’s sort of what I thought.”
Seth looked at the arrangement. “So, who sent the flowers?”
“A friend.” She picked up her wineglass and took another sip, offering no further information.
Male friend or female friend? Seth wondered. Somehow he was certain it had to be a male. Women rarely sent other women flowers.
Maybe Meghan hadn’t shouldered the burden of Kirk alone. Perhaps she’d had a companion to emotionally support her. Once again, the thought of her having another man in her life bothered him.
A wail came from Kirk’s bedroom. Meghan quickly finished the last of her wine. “I’ll be right back,” she said.
“I’ll get dinner on the table,” Seth replied. He moved the arrangement to the counter, his fingers itching to pull the card from the envelope.
It’s none of your business, he told himself as he pulled the salad out of the refrigerator and placed it on the table. There’s nothing worse than a snoop, he thought as he turned off the burner beneath the sauce.
Of course, if she really hadn’t wanted him to look at the card, she would have tucked it into her purse, or carried it with her when she left the room. As it was, she’d left it like an invitation.
He snatched the card from the envelope and read it. Thanks for the wonderful, home-cooked meal and a lovely evening of fabulous company. It was signed simply David.
Home-cooked meal? Meghan didn’t know how to cook. In all the time he’d been with her, he didn’t think she’d ever served him anything that hadn’t come from a can or a box.
As he heard her coming back down the hall, he quickly returned the card to where it had been and went back to the stove.
Kirk smiled at him from the safety of his mother’s arms. Meghan carried him to his high chair and buckled him in.
“Hey, buddy,” Seth said as he added the sauce to the spaghetti noodles. “You ready to try some of your old man’s gourmet spaghetti?”
Kirk banged on his tray as if to say, “bring it on.”
“He can eat some spaghetti, can’t he?” Seth asked.
“If it’s cut up in small enough pieces,” she replied. “What can I do to help?”
“You can get out the salad dressing and butter,” he said as he placed the bowl of spaghetti on the table.
“You know, you don’t have to cook for me,” she said as she got out the items then sat down next to Kirk’s high chair.
“I figure it’s the least I can do for all you’re doing for me.” He joined her at the table. She handed him her plate and he served her the pasta. “I assume if you’d discovered anything for me today you would have told me the moment you walked in.”
She eyed him dryly. “Before my coat came off.”
“Are you that anxious to get rid of me?” he teased.
“The sooner, the better,” she replied, not looking at him but rather focusing on cutting some of the spaghetti into tiny pieces.
She finally looked up at him, her cheeks stained with a faint blush. “It’s not every day I have my ex-husband as a houseguest. It’s uncomfortable, and if you don’t feel that, then you’re as insensitive as I remember you being.”
“Whoa!” He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Let’s not discuss my failings as a husband over dinner. I’ll get indigestion.”
She smiled, a glimmer of humor lighting her eyes. “Besides, it would have to be a ten-course meal if we were going to discuss all your failings.”
Seth laughed and for the next few minutes they concentrated on eating. He watched in fascination as she alternated between feeding herself and feeding Kirk.
Kirk was a demanding little diner, banging on his tray when Meghan didn’t attend to him quickly enough. Seth and Meghan laughed as Kirk attempted to use his tongue to retrieve a noodle that had fallen to his chin.
The shared laughter, the utter joy of watching his son, created a bittersweet regret in Seth. For just a moment, he felt the warmth of family. He instantly shoved the uncomfortable emotion aside. How could he regret what had never been?
What he and Meghan had shared had been seven months of a fantasy based on intense lust and good times, but when they’d climbed out of bed and the laughter had stopped, they had been two people with diametrically opposite ideas of wha
t sacrifices marriage would entail. And for Seth, the sacrifice she’d requested of him had been far too high to pay.
“How’s Mark?” he asked. “Does his desk still look like the remains of a natural disaster?” They’d finished eating and were clearing the table. Kirk was on the floor playing with an empty egg carton.
“Worse.” Meghan laughed. “I swear he has food in his desk drawers that has been in there since World War Two.” She took a plate from Seth, rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher. “He spent most of the day today pretending to be one of Santa’s elves and hanging garish decorations all over the front of the office.”
“Speaking of garish decorations, why don’t you have a tree up?” He handed her the last plate.
“I’ve never really gotten into the whole Christmas thing,” she said.
He gazed at her in disbelief. “I seem to remember a certain woman wearing a candy cane-striped teddy decorating a tree while dancing to the tune of ‘Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree.”’
To his delight, her cheeks flamed as red as her hair. “I only did that for your benefit, because you were such a sentimental fool about Christmas,” she answered softly.
The confession, so unexpected, touched him. Her eyes behind her glasses were the soft green of spring’s promise and there was nothing he wanted to do more than take her in his arms and kiss her, transform that spring into summer heat.
“Who’s David?” The question came from him unbidden.
The softness in her eyes transformed to something hard and glittering. “You read my card,” she said, the accusation laced with anger.
He didn’t reply. After all, the answer was obvious. “You fixed him a home-cooked meal? How did you manage that? You can’t cook.” Someplace in the back of his mind he knew what he was doing…picking a fight to override his momentary desire to kiss her.
“I took a cooking class,” she snapped as she dried her hands on a towel. “And I cook very well for the people I choose to cook for.”
She bent down and scooped Kirk up in her arms. “You had no business looking at that card, Seth. You’re here as a guest and I don’t owe you any explanation about the things I do or the people I see. You lost the right to ask me questions when you walked out on me.”
“I didn’t walk out, I was pushed out,” he retorted.
“Whatever,” she said wearily. “The point is it’s done and past and you have no right to question me about David or anything else. Now, I’m going to work in my office for a little while and see if I can’t find you the information you need.”
So you can get out of my life for good. She didn’t say the words, but Seth heard them as she left the kitchen.
Seth knew she was right. He’d been wrong to read the card. He’d known it was wrong when he’d done it, and he deserved her anger.
It wasn’t until he poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down in the living room that he realized she hadn’t told what he’d wanted to know.
Who in the hell was David?
As Meghan waited for her computer to boot up, she arranged a variety of toys around Kirk on the floor near the desk.
She occasionally worked in the evenings at the computer, and Kirk was as at home on the floor in her office as he was in his own room.
He busied himself with a set of blocks, and Meghan slid into her chair and stared at the monitor, her thoughts tumbling like wet clothes in a hot dryer.
She hadn’t wanted to remember the one Christmas she’d spent with Seth. It had been a magical time. Seth had been imbued with the holiday spirit and it had been infectious. They’d decorated the house from top to bottom, watched every sappy Christmas movie that was on television, and made love by the base of the huge tree with twinkling lights of red and green.
For the first time in her life, she’d found the joy in the season. But by the time the season was over, Seth had been gone and she’d realized Christmas, and vows of love, and the concept of forever had all been nothing more than a tinsel-wrapped mirage.
She frowned and typed in her password to access the tremendous power of the computer. She couldn’t believe he’d had the audacity to read the card that had come with the arrangement.
She’d met David Prath in the cooking class she’d taken a month ago. He was a nice man, a divorced accountant who she’d shared coffee with twice after class. Last week she’d had him over for dinner, a celebration of completing the cooking course.
There were no sparks with David, nothing closely resembling what she’d once felt for Seth. Although she had a feeling she produced a few sparks in David. Nevertheless, she’d enjoyed spending time together with him and the friendship she felt they were building between them.
She focused on the screen before her. She had to find the information that would get Seth out of her house. His presence was evoking too many memories…painful memories she didn’t want to entertain.
Within minutes she’d shoved aside all thoughts of Seth and the past and was fully engrossed in her search for information. Occasionally she would glance down at Kirk, who played quietly with his toys.
She didn’t know how long she worked when she checked on Kirk and found him sound asleep, his thumb planted firmly in his mouth. She shoved away from the desk and stood. Stretching with arms overhead, she tried to work out the kinks that inflicted pain in her shoulders.
“Sweet baby boy,” she murmured as she scooped up Kirk in her arms. He was such a good boy, such a happy child. She carried him into his room and into his bed. Being careful not to awaken him, she changed his diaper, put him into his pajamas, then covered him with a blanket.
She stood for a long moment at the side of the crib watching him sleep. He doesn’t need a father, she told herself. Lots of little boys grew up fatherless. He’s happy…well-adjusted and Seth would only be a complication he didn’t need in his life.
As she walked from Kirk’s room back to her office, she could hear the sound of the television playing in the living room. She could easily imagine Seth sprawled on the sofa, his broad shoulders against the beige material, perhaps one of her burgundy throw pillows hugged to his chest.
She shook her head to dispel the image and once again immersed herself in her computer search. She didn’t look up until the door to her office creaked open.
“Are you going to work all night?” Seth asked.
“What time is it?” she asked. She pulled off her glasses and set them on her desk.
“Almost eleven,” he replied.
“I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.” She scrunched her shoulders and rolled her head, attempting to release tension.
Seth stepped up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. Gently, he began to massage her stiff muscles. “You always did have crummy posture when you work.”
“Hmm.” She closed her eyes and dropped her head forward, allowing his fingers to dance their magic up her shoulders and to the base of her skull. “You always did give great massages,” she murmured as the tension and stiffness seemed to melt away beneath his touch. She breathed in deeply, then released all her muscles and began to relax.
“I used to love giving you those full-body massages,” he replied, his voice slightly husky.
Fire licked through her veins as she remembered him pouring scented oil onto her bare skin, his fingers fevered with heat as he worked the oil over every inch of her body.
She stood abruptly and stepped away from his touch. “It’s late. Kirk will be up early in the morning.”
“Why don’t you come into the living room and relax for a few minutes before calling it a night,” he suggested. “I made some hot chocolate.”
She nodded, suddenly too off center to realize tomorrow was her day off and she wouldn’t have the office to escape to. As she followed him from the office to the living room, her neck and shoulders still tingled from his touch. She was going to be cooped up in this house for the entire weekend with Seth. She could feel the tension creeping back into her muscles.
<
br /> The television was off, the room silent. She sat on one end of the sofa while he went into the kitchen for the hot chocolate. His scent was in air, the evocative male and spicy cologne scent that had lingered in her head for months after their divorce.
She’d been devastated when he’d left, had felt lost and more alone than ever in her life. The discovery of her pregnancy had pulled her from the bleak depression, given her something to love once again.
He returned, carrying two cups and saucers. He handed her one and a reluctant smile curved her lips as she spied the five miniature marshmallows on the saucer next to the cup. He’d remembered.
He caught the smile. “Not four…not six, always five marshmallows,” he said as he sat down next to her.
She dropped one into the dark, rich liquid. “Maybe it’s too soon,” she said thoughtfully, then took a sip of her drink.
“Too soon?” He looked at her blankly.
“For me to find something on Simon. It’s only been a couple of days since the sting operation. Maybe he hasn’t settled in any one place yet. Maybe he’s still in transit and hasn’t tried to unload the drugs yet.”
“Maybe,” he answered. He stared into his cup and Meghan saw the dark shadows that moved to usurp the green of his eyes.
“You want to talk about it?” she asked softly.
He looked up at her, for a moment his eyes mir roring internal torture. “No. There’s nothing more to say.”
She dropped a second marshmallow into her cup and sipped once again, the silence of the room oppressive. She’d always sensed demons inside of Seth, but the demons seemed to have grown stronger since last time she’d seen him.
“Tell me about Kirk,” he said suddenly.
She eyed him in surprise. “What do you want to know?”
He shrugged. “Was he an easy pregnancy? An easy birth?” He set his cup and saucer on the coffee table and leaned toward her. “When did he first smile? When did he take his first step?”
Strangers When We Married Page 5