0451471040

by Kimberly Lang

How long had he been in Magnolia Beach? Must be just today because she’d have heard about it otherwise—especially since he’d been asking about her. Oh God. He’s been asking about me. Probably all over town, telling everyone he was her husband. Who all had he talked to? She was ruined. There were some lines that just couldn’t be crossed without penalty, and adultery was one of them—no matter how progressive someone might be. And Magnolia Beach wasn’t exactly a hot spot of progressive sexuality.

  “Since I don’t want to be married to you—a fact you are very well aware of, so don’t look so damn shocked—you can hardly blame me for not sharing that piece of information with the rest of the world.” She fought to keep her voice under control. She didn’t want him to see the worry or the hurt. Only the anger.

  “Like it or not, we are married.”

  “In a fair and just world where your daddy didn’t have the judge in his pocket, we wouldn’t be.”

  “Marriage is forever, Mary Marlene Lane. You took vows in a church, in front of God. ‘Till death do us part.’ You remember that, don’t you?”

  “I also remember the part about ‘love, honor, and cherish.’ You broke your vows first.”

  His shoulders bowed up. Mark wasn’t used to back talk. “You’re my wife.”

  “Much to my dismay.” She saw Mark’s hand twitch. “Try it, and I’ll be a widow instead of a divorcée,” she warned. A look of surprise crossed Mark’s face, but she could tell he believed her words. And they’d shocked him.

  The rush of satisfaction and girl power was immediate and new. “I assume it’s too much to hope that you’re here with divorce papers for me to sign, so what do you want?”

  “I don’t need a reason to visit my wife.” God, he was petulant.

  “Actually, yes, you do.”

  “Well, maybe I came to remind you that you are my wife.”

  “You cannot be serious. I. Want. A. Divorce.” She was nearly shouting now, but she couldn’t help it. “I do not want to be married to you. I don’t even like you.”

  “Our families, our church, don’t believe in divorce. Marriage is forever.”

  Breathe. Try to stay calm. “You keep saying that—”

  “Because it’s true.”

  She pretended she didn’t hear the interruption. “But at no point have you acted like you actually want to be married to me. You don’t love me, and I’m pretty sure you don’t even like me very much, either.”

  “That doesn’t matter. You’re my—”

  “Wife,” she finished for him. This was enough to make her want to tear her hair out. “Yes, I know that. But I’m not your damn property. I am a person, completely separate from you. This is about your ego, nothing more.”

  She could tell she’d scored a point, but Mark wasn’t done yet with the guilt-tripping. “I can’t believe you’re going to turn your back on everything you were raised to believe.”

  “I already have.” She lifted her chin. It wasn’t going to work on her this time. “I quit living my life to please my family and my church when they turned their backs on me in my time of need.”

  “You weren’t ‘in need,’ Marley.” He sneered. “Stirring up drama for attention is not ‘need.’ Just because no one bought tickets to your theatrics—”

  She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation. Even after all that therapy, she’d still let herself be dragged back into his games. But it stopped now. She held up a hand to quiet him. “So did you come here just to embarrass me or is there something else?”

  “Enough’s enough, Marley.”

  “I agree. Sign the papers, and we’ll be done with all of it.”

  “I will not. You need to come home.”

  I am home. “To a town where you’ve smeared my reputation? No way. And I don’t know why you’d want me to. That would only be an embarrassment for you.”

  “It’s less of an embarrassment than having my wife run off. You’ve had your fun, and now it’s time to face the music.”

  “There’s nothing for me to face.” Something about the look on his face, though . . . “Wait. You seriously think I’m going to go back?”

  He nodded.

  There was shock. Then there was disbelief. Finally, there was just pity. “You know, all this time I thought you were just jerking me around as some kind of punishment. I never dreamed you were harboring some pathetic idea that I might actually drop the divorce proceedings. That’s just sad.”

  His face reddened. “No one in my family has ever gotten a divorce. Yours, either. I won’t be the first.”

  Nothing about love or their relationship—just his pride, his image. “Well, if you wanted to be married, you should have been a better husband.”

  “I’ve been patient, but I’m not going to let you hide down here forever.”

  “Let me?” Unable to hold it back, she laughed. “You don’t get a vote.”

  Mark’s face darkened when she laughed, and he took a step toward her. She refused to back up, widening her stance instead and dropping into the “ready” position they’d taught her in self-defense classes. “Seriously, I will drop you like the sack of shit you are. Last warning. You will not touch me ever again.”

  He was clearly shocked and a little unbelieving, but he wasn’t brave enough to push her, either. “You’re being unreasonable.”

  “I’m being honest. You’re being a sore loser. Go home, Mark. Have your lawyer call my lawyer and end this.” Turning on her heel, she wrenched open the door to Latte Dah. Mark made as if to follow her. “Oh, no you don’t. This is my place of business. You are banned from the premises. Set one foot inside, and I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.” With that, she slammed the door in his face.

  It was a buoying feeling, standing up to him, a thrill she’d never felt before. But knowing all those people who’d witnessed her humiliation were probably still out there, waiting for an explanation or something, deflated her pretty quickly. She sagged against the door and rubbed her hands over her face.

  She had no idea how she was going to face all those people. How she’d face Tate. Well, Mark had been right about one thing: it was time to face the music.

  Just not right this second.

  Jane found her there a few minutes later. “Are you okay?”

  “As much as I can be.”

  “Is he really your husband?” she asked carefully.

  There was no denying it. The damage was done and everyone in town would know soon enough thanks to Mark’s impeccable timing. What had she done to deserve such a karmic backlash? “Yes, much to my everlasting shame.”

  “I didn’t know you were married.”

  “I don’t want to be. And I’d kind of hoped the divorce would be finalized before anyone ever knew I had been.” She could tell Jane didn’t quite know what to think, much less say. While not proven a flat-out liar, she’d at least been proven as someone dishonest with secrets to hide.

  And while this might be the twenty-first century, adultery was still definitely frowned on, and oh dear God, she’d been outed in front of the Grace Baptist Bible study group and the historical society—none of whom would likely shrug this off without some suitable condemnation.

  She wanted to crawl in a hole and cry.

  Jane patted her shoulder. “Why don’t you let me mind the shop this afternoon. I’ll call in Sam or one of the other girls to help. You go home, clear your head . . .”

  The words and figure out what you’re going to do hung in the air unsaid but understood.

  Chapter 14

  Molly was married.

  Tate liked to think of himself as a modern, enlightened man, but there were some things that were just so ingrained as right and wrong it would be impossible to pretend they weren’t.

  Dating a married woman definitely fell in the wrong category. He hadn’t known she was married, but that didn’t really relieve much of the feeling for him. Ignorance wasn’t much of an excuse, but it was all he had.

  Of course,
dating while married was very wrong, and Molly knew she was married. She couldn’t claim otherwise. It wasn’t exactly something a person just forgot about.

  Good Lord, how long had she been married? She’d been in Magnolia Beach for over two years, so at least that long. Then he remembered her saying no one had asked her out since high school. Christ, it could be eight years or more. Maybe even a decade.

  She certainly didn’t act married, though, and she hadn’t been glad to see her husband, either.

  The shock had delayed any other reaction, but now the pain settled like a knot in his chest. Molly was married. He’d wanted to know the secret she’d been hiding, but he’d take the ignorance back gladly.

  Standing in the middle of Latte Dah after that scene had him feeling like an exhibit at the zoo. Everyone in town knew they were seeing each other, and he could feel eyes on him, almost hear people asking themselves if he’d known, judging him as an accomplice. Once again, he was being judged for the actions of someone else. Something that wasn’t his fault, done by someone he had no control over. But this was worse. He hadn’t been an active participant in his father’s drunkenness and violence, only a recipient. He was half of this couple, and people were going to assign half the blame.

  Taking a quick glance at the room, he groaned. Of course some of Magnolia Beach’s biggest busybodies just had to be here to see this go down. The very best thing he could do in this situation was to act as normal as possible and not make it worse. But how?

  Then Quinn pulled him aside. “What the hell was that?”

  “I have no idea,” he answered honestly. “I’m just as confused as you are.” How long had it been since Molly dragged her husband away? Five minutes? Ten? It seemed like an eternity. He looked toward the kitchen, but he couldn’t see them in there. Molly must have taken him out through the back door into the alley. Should he go check on her?

  “Do you think she’s okay out there?” Quinn asked, the same thoughts obviously going through his mind.

  “She didn’t seem afraid of him, but . . .” There was something about that guy that just didn’t seem right, regardless of who he was to Molly. He didn’t like it.

  He’d taken one step toward the kitchen when Quinn caught him. “I’ll go. If that guy really is Molly’s . . . well, you know, you might not be the best person to add to the mix. Why don’t you say some good-byes and go back to the clinic. Play it cool until you can find out what’s going on.”

  Quinn was a good friend and quick on the uptake. “Thanks.”

  With a nod, Quinn was headed out the front door, pausing just long enough to tap Todd West on the shoulder as he passed. Todd stood immediately and followed him, and the two of them disappeared around the side of the building.

  Speak to a few people and head back to the clinic. That’s what acting normal would look like, hopefully smoothing over some of this. If he didn’t make a big deal, people might not think it was a big deal. Deep down he knew he was kidding himself, but it was worth a try.

  So, as nonchalantly and unhurriedly as possible, as if this kind of thing happened all the time, Tate said his good-byes to the charity representatives, thanking them for coming. He was surprised at how normal he sounded, proving again how ingrained some things could be. A lifetime of pretending nothing was wrong finally seemed to be paying off. It was twisted. Then, very aware of the conversations in his wake, Tate pushed through the door and out into the street. Five steps away from the door, he ended up face-to-face with the man who’d just introduced himself as Molly’s husband ten minutes earlier.

  “So you’re the home-wrecker,” Mark said, leaning against a gray SUV parked at the curb. Anger radiated off him, a big change from the calmness he’d exhibited earlier. Whatever Molly had said to him, it wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear.

  Molly had lived in Magnolia Beach for nearly three years, he reminded himself. Regardless of anything else, Tate hardly considered himself a home-wrecker. Molly might be married to this guy, but it obviously wasn’t a good marriage. Helena had suspected a bad relationship. It seemed she’d been right.

  “Do you often sleep with other men’s wives?”

  Mark was a big square-featured guy, the ex-football type who’d gone soft after his glory days. And regardless of his casual stance, he was obviously looking for a fight. Tate was pretty sure he’d be able to hold his own just fine, plus Quinn and Todd were hanging back unobtrusively at the corner, but still he didn’t relish adding public brawling to the hot gossip of the day—with Molly’s husband, no less. That was all this story needed.

  But Tate’s ingrained manners were failing him. What did one say to one’s girlfriend’s husband? “Molly never mentioned you.”

  “Her name is Marley,” Mark gritted out. “Mary Marlene Lane. Not Molly.”

  Tate just shrugged, causing Mark’s face to darken in anger.

  “You’re sleeping with her and you don’t even know her name. That’s pretty pitiful.”

  “No, pitiful is your wife choosing to sleep with someone else instead of you.” It was a juvenile thing to say and would probably give Mark the excuse he was looking for to start swinging, but Tate didn’t care.

  “We may have some problems, but all married couples do. We’re working on them. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your hands off my wife while we do.”

  “Molly’s lived here for a while now and no one even knew she was married. That doesn’t sound like Molly’s trying too hard to work out those problems.”

  “Don’t presume you know anything about my marriage. We may have some problems, but there are other parts of it that are just fine.” Mark cocked his head. “Oh, you didn’t know she’s two-timing you, too?” He snorted. “I suppose sleeping with your husband can’t really be considered cheating on your lover, though.”

  It was an ugly, low blow, but untrue, he knew, since Molly simply hadn’t had the time to sleep with Mark since she’d been with him. But the idea that she’d been keeping her marriage alive all this time still sat uneasy with him. It made him jealous, and he lashed out. “I wouldn’t say that too loud, if I were you. People might think Molly took a lover because her husband wasn’t enough for her.”

  That got a reaction. “You son of a bitch.” Mark pushed out of his lean and stalked toward him, his hands clenched into big, meaty fists.

  “Everything all right here?”

  The overly casual voice came from behind him, and Tate glanced over his shoulder to see Adam and Ryan Tanner. Both Tanners were also former football players, but unlike Mark they still looked as if they could hit the field at any time. And by the way Mark froze, releasing his fists, Tate knew Mark wasn’t willing to risk three-on-one odds—no matter how angry he might be at the moment.

  Keeping his eye on Mark, Tate said, “I think we’re all good.”

  Mark stomped back to his SUV and slammed the door.

  “That guy really wanted to kick your ass,” Adam said as Mark drove off.

  “He was welcome to try.”

  “Okay, so who was that and what was that about?” Ryan asked.

  So the news hadn’t spread too quickly, but then, even the Magnolia Beach grapevine had a time lag.

  Quinn and Todd were already closing the distance. Tate tilted his head in their direction. “They’ll fill you in.”

  Both Tanners looked at him as if he’d lost his mind, but he just left them there and headed back to the clinic. He had patients waiting.

  And he really didn’t know what else to do.

  Either the news was slow to spread—which he doubted—or else he could credit the “behind your back, not to your face” rule of gossip, but either way, no one mentioned the debacle at Latte Dah to him all afternoon.

  For that, he was thankful, because he couldn’t guarantee what he might say if he were pressed. Hell, he wasn’t sure what he was even thinking right now.

  He forced himself to focus on his four-legged patients—creatures who didn’t lie or play mind games—but the
thoughts kept randomly intruding.

  Molly was married.

  Molly had lied to him.

  Okay, she hadn’t lied, but she’d withheld a pretty important piece of information.

  Molly was married.

  Married.

  To a real jerk, if first impressions were to be believed.

  Married.

  And she’d never bothered to mention it.

  Christ.

  Why?

  Somehow, though, even with that litany running through his head, he managed to get through the afternoon. And somehow, he wasn’t all that surprised to find Molly waiting on his porch swing when he got home.

  He wasn’t sure that was a good thing. He’d had time, yes, but not the opportunity to process the information, and he wasn’t really ready to deal with Molly just yet.

  She looked remarkably calm and clear-eyed, with only the way she was twisting a ring around her index finger giving him a clue she might not be.

  “You deserve an explanation,” she said without preamble, pushing to her feet.

  “I’m not sure now’s a good time.”

  “Please, Tate—”

  “Fine. Are you married or not?”

  She sighed. “Sort of. You see—”

  “There’s no ‘sort of.’ You can’t be ‘sort of’ married. It’s a yes-or-no question.”

  “Legally? Yes, I’m still married. But I don’t want to be.”

  The odd pang he felt made him realize he’d been holding out a shred of hope that Mark had been lying, and Molly wasn’t actually married. “For how long?”

  “Does it really matter?” When he didn’t answer, she sighed again. “I was a very naive, very stupid nineteen-year-old, so nearly eight years now.”

  “And you didn’t think this was something I should know?”

  “Yes, but . . . it’s complicated.”

  “Not really. You’re married, and I don’t date other men’s wives.”

  “If you’ll just give me a chance to explain . . .” She dragged her hands through her hair, causing the curls to spring out crazily. Her big brown eyes were sad, her face pale and resigned when she finally looked at him. She was obviously miserable. At least they had that much in common. “Can we please go inside to talk?”