Just for Appearances

by Jenna Rutland

  “This is my house, and I came to see my wife and kids,” Greg said.

  “You arrogant bastard. This isn’t your house, and she’s your ex-wife. Try to remember that.” The tension built, but he’d be damned if he’d give in to this guy. “The boys aren’t here, but, hey, I’ll tell them you stopped by.” John said.

  Greg glanced around the kitchen. His gaze drifted over Rachel’s jacket, which now lay across a chair, her heels and stockings piled in the corner. He scanned the kitchen, his eyes darting from the stove to the wineglasses, his neck craning to get a glimpse of the dining room.

  “What the hell is going on here? Looks to me like I showed up just in time.” Greg returned his gaze to John and pointed a finger in his direction. “Leave her alone.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Where is she?”

  “In the bathtub, not that it’s any of your business.”

  “I’ll talk to her in there,” Greg said, pushing past John.

  “Like hell you will.” John grabbed Greg’s arm and jerked him around.

  “The only one going in there will be me.” He pushed Greg aside and headed toward the hallway leading to the bathroom. Smack-dab into Rachel.

  …

  Rachel finished tying her robe as she said, “John? What’s going on? I swear I heard people argu—”

  Greg rounded the corner of the dining room, coming into view. She gasped, clasping a hand to her chest. “Greg, what…what are you doing here?” She took a quick peek toward John, cringing at the irritation she saw spread across his face.

  Greg came toward her, placing his arms around her, and gave a squeeze. “Hi, sweetheart, how are you?”

  Sweetheart? Had he ever called her anything other than her given name? Not that she could recall. She registered John’s body tensing and assumed the “sweetheart” hit a sore spot. What the hell was going on here?

  “I’m fine, but I wish you would have called first. The boys aren’t here and I’m…busy.” Heat climbed up her cheeks.

  She glanced at John, who now stood with his arms folded across his chest. He looked like a cold stone statue, his gaze penetrating Greg as if he’d like to kill him. She pulled the lapels of her robe a little tighter.

  “I’ve got tickets to the Tigers game tonight. I’d like to take you and the boys.”

  “Sorry, dude, she’s got plans,” John said, rocking back on his heels.

  She had to keep from smiling—she loved the cocky grin that John wore.

  “Look, sweetheart,” Greg said, ignoring John. “I know it’s a little last-minute, but these are great tickets. And,” he added, lowering his voice and moving a step closer to her, “I really want to talk to you. It’s important, and I’m only in town for a few days.”

  She sighed. Damn, she didn’t want to do this. But the boys had been asking about their father, and even though Greg didn’t deserve it, she was resigned to the fact that she would allow them to go to the game with him. And the past had taught her that the sooner he had his say, the sooner he’d be gone. Which, unfortunately, that also meant she would be going to the game, because the boys would be more comfortable with her there. Hell, she’d be spending the evening with Greg instead of the man she’d prefer to be with.

  “Fine,” she said, watching as John bolted out of the room toward the kitchen. Greg smiled.

  “Great. We’ll have a good time, sweetheart. The boys will be thrilled with our seats.” He stepped even closer to her. “And we’ve got a lot to talk about,” he said, running a finger down her cheek.

  She stepped away from his touch. Desperate to talk with John and not wanting Greg eavesdropping, she told him, “Have a seat in the living room, and I’ll be with you in a little bit.” She walked into the kitchen, stopping when she saw John tossing food into plastic containers. Great. That’s what this wonderful night had turned into—storing things away for later.

  “John?” She walked up to him and put her hand on his arm. He immediately pulled away and opened the refrigerator door, stashing away their dinner.

  “I called Carol,” he said. “She’s bringing the boys home. She said she’d leave right away. Don’t want to be late for the game, right?”

  She cringed at the sarcasm in his voice. He had every right to be pissed, but what choice did she have? “John, I’m sorry.”

  “No big deal; it’s only food. You and the boys can warm it up tomorrow.”

  “It is a big deal, and you know it’s more than just food.” She looked around the kitchen before settling her gaze on him. She walked to where he hastily added cooking utensils to the dishwasher. Placing her hands on his upper arms, she coaxed him to turn to face her. When he finally looked at her, she said, “You had a beautiful evening planned for us, and it breaks my heart to end it.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe another time.” He said it matter-of-factly, but she could hear the hurt in his voice.

  Greg entered the kitchen as the screen door opened and her three sons entered the room. “That didn’t take long,” she said, noticing that the boys were standing near John.

  “Mac, you’re gonna come to the game with us, right?” Zak asked, his eager little face turned up to John’s.

  John looked over at Greg with a smart-ass grin. He raised his eyebrows as if to say that’d be a good idea, but then he shook his head. “No, buddy, not tonight.” Zak ducked his chin in disappointment.

  Rachel guided them to Greg. “Why don’t you guys say hi to your dad?” She felt like a hypocrite just saying the word. Greg didn’t deserve the title. The three boys gave a less than hardy hello to Greg, despite their recent inquiries as to when they would see him next. Did they really care for Greg, or was it more the idea of just having a man in their life who did dad things? Someone like John.

  “See you guys later,” John called to the boys as he headed toward the back door. “Have a good time at the game.” He gave a little wave to Carol, ignored Greg, and said “see ya” to Rachel as he pushed open the screen door.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said to no one in particular. John had already made it halfway to his truck by the time she made it out the door.

  “John, wait.” He didn’t stop until he’d reached the driver’s side of his truck, then turned to face her. She stepped directly in front of him. “I’m sorry.” She placed the palm of her hand on his cheek, then stood on tiptoe to kiss his sweet lips. “I wanted to be with you tonight.” She lowered her voice. “I wanted everything just the way you described it.”

  He studied her for a moment as if assessing her sincerity. “I guess it wasn’t meant to be, Einstein. Maybe now you’ll have an opportunity to see if there’s anything left between you two.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He released a strangled chuckle. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he wanted you back. It won’t take him long to realize you’re not the same woman you were when he left. Hell, you’re not even the same woman you were when I first met you.” He caressed her cheek with the back of a finger. “You’re an intelligent, confident, sexy-as-hell lady who’s happy with her life. Who wouldn’t want you? And I’ve always wondered if getting back together with Greg is something you’ve secretly wanted.” He took a step away from her, then rested his hand on the door handle. “Maybe tonight you’ll have some answers.” He flashed her a simple smile that seemed to be forced.

  She didn’t want Greg back, but maybe they could set some ground rules for the future. Sighing, she turned around and headed toward the house.

  …

  “I think we should give our relationship another shot.” Greg shoved the rest of his hot dog in his mouth before wiping his mouth with a napkin.

  “You must be insane!” Rachel’s voice rose an octave. “We’ve tried being together and we suck at it.”

  “I really do miss the boys.”

  She cut a glance down a few rows where the boys stood against the railing near the dugout trying to get autographs. “Then visit them more often. I’ve never stopped you from seein
g them.”

  “It’s difficult when I’m traveling around the world.”

  A few months ago, Rachel may have given thought to reconciling with him if only to have another set of hands. She’d always have a special place in her heart for her ex-husband. He’d given her three beautiful children that she adored. But without a doubt, she didn’t love Greg enough to sacrifice the life she loved in Lake Bliss. But her sons deserved more. She deserved more. With a force so strong that she swayed in her seat, she had the answer. She knew what love was about.

  Sacrifice. Parents sacrificed for their children by giving them opportunities whether for school or sports, or not buying a new car so the kids could have private music lessons. She’d sacrificed her college courses to earn money so Greg could continue his studies and graduate. She uprooted her kids and dragged them around the world so he could pursue his dream job.

  “You don’t sacrifice, Greg. You never have.”

  He looked at her in disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about? I’ve given the boys an in-ground swimming pool and a baseball diamond that I would’ve killed for as a kid.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t get it. Those things take a hit on your wallet. I’m talking about your feelings. I’m talking about your time. I’m talking about saying the hell with something—work, travel, whatever—to spend time with your kids.”

  An image formed in her head of closing the door after she’d said good-bye to John ten years ago. To set aside the love you feel for a man because you want him to realize his dreams even though you don’t think you’ll survive without him.

  “Love isn’t selfish.” She relaxed against her seat as she came to the realization. “When you love someone, you’re willing to give up damn near anything for them to be happy.”

  Greg eyed her like she was talking nonsense. He shook his head. “I don’t get you. Maybe I never did.” With a pat to her knee, he said, “Think about it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Three hours later, after eight innings, an autograph signing, hot dogs, peanuts, and plenty of soda, Rachel and the boys returned home. Unfortunately, her ex accompanied them. Her sons were tired and grumpy, Greg was pissed and acting like an arrogant jerk, and she was fed up with all of them, not to mention having a pounding headache. The only place she really wanted to be right now was with John.

  Maybe it wasn’t fair for her to compare the two men, but that’s exactly what she’d been doing all evening. John was a sensitive and compassionate man with a wonderful sense of humor who made her feel like a desirable woman. Not to mention the fact that he was the sexiest thing alive. Greg was…well, Greg was an ass. Self-centered and selfish. A man with his own agenda who expected everyone to comply with his way of thinking. And he definitely had no sex appeal. What had she been thinking all those years ago when she thought she was in love with him? Whatever it had been, it was long gone.

  What she wanted now, right now—with an intensity that shocked her—was to be with John. He’d been upset when he left. She understood that, and she wanted nothing more than to go to him and love him.

  That was it then, the bottom line.

  John. Tonight.

  She put the exhausted boys to bed, grabbed a sheet, blanket, and pillow, and headed back to the family room. Greg had made himself comfortable on the couch, feet propped on the coffee table, and was flipping through the TV channels. He did a double take when he saw Rachel clutching the bedding, even though the couch was where he had spent his nights for the past few years when he visited. From the look on his face, she suspected he wanted an invitation to her bed. After her adamant refusal of his reconciliation offer, it was almost comical that he would have possibly thought he had a chance at that.

  She tossed the linens onto the couch next to him. “I’m assuming you’ll be staying the night?”

  “Yeah, if it doesn’t cramp your new lifestyle,” he said sarcastically.

  She flashed him a little smile. “Actually it works out great, because I’m leaving and you can stay with the boys.”

  Greg shot off the couch as if his pants were on fire. “Leaving? Where in the hell would you be going at this time of night?”

  She debated whether to tell him the truth. Since he would be here with the boys for the night, he needed to know where she’d be.

  While she deliberated her answer, Greg studied her face. “Christ. Don’t tell me you think you’re going to see that overgrown babysitter?”

  “Actually, that’s exactly where I’m going—hopefully for the rest of the night.” She reached down and snatched her purse off the chair where she’d dropped it earlier.

  He reached down and grabbed the strap of her purse. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  She moved into his personal space, which she knew from experience got his attention. “For the first time in my life, I’m going after what I want.” She pulled out of his grasp.

  “What is this, Rachel? You trying to make me jealous? Or, wait, maybe the services you’re paying for include more than just babysitting?”

  She had never struck a person in her life. But the urge right now was so intense, she had to shove her hands in her jean pockets to refrain from clobbering him. “How dare you! What I do and who I choose to do it with is none of your business.” She took several deep breaths before continuing. “In the future, Greg, if you can’t talk to me with the respect I deserve, you will no longer be permitted in this house. My house. Is that clear?” Obviously dumbfounded at her new confidence, Greg gave a slight nod.

  “John’s phone number is posted on the refrigerator if the boys should need me. As tired as they are, I’m sure you won’t hear a peep out of them all night. I’ll be home first thing in the morning before they’re awake.”

  Without another word, she flung open the door and walked out into the night. Into freedom, and hopefully soon into John’s arms.

  …

  Rachel glanced at her watch. Ten minutes had gone by since the last time she checked. Leaning back against the car’s headrest, she closed her eyes. The sweet smell of freshly cut grass drifted through her open window. Her right hand repeatedly slid her heart-shaped pendant back and forth on its chain. Her thinking necklace, she called it.

  What an evening. John had arranged the perfect seduction. Until her ex-husband showed up. And John had stormed out of her house.

  Her ex wanted her back. Let’s start over, he had said. How long had she lived just to hear that phrase? But those long-awaited words were meaningless now. And she finally realized that her dreams of getting back with Greg were nothing more than the desire for her and her children to have a man in their lives. To belong to a family. Now she knew that he wasn’t the man she wanted that with.

  A train rumbled in the distance. Funny. She could relate to that train—leaving one place behind and moving full force toward another. Wasn’t that what she was doing? Leaving behind a peaceful existence with her kids in Lake Bliss to do what? Move? No. She’d never do that. Then what? Sacrifice her feelings to once again say good-bye to John like she had ten years ago?

  Five minutes later, she still sat outside John’s house. It was time to leave the security of her car. She grabbed her purse and got out.

  The trip to his front door was the longest journey she had ever taken. Would he be angry? What if he didn’t want to see her? The sound of bluesy jazz drifted on the night air to confirm he was still awake. Biting her bottom lip, she lifted a shaky hand and knocked. She raised her head to look up at the stars scattered across the night sky, and sent up a quick prayer that she was doing the right thing.

  Before she had time to knock again, or run off the porch back to her car, John swung the door open, his blue eyes dazed. “He wants you back, doesn’t he?”

  She nodded.

  He let loose with a string of obscenities. “He doesn’t deserve you,” he whispered.

  Her brows rose and a smile played at the corners of her mouth. “You’re right. He doesn’t
. But you do,” she said with a devilish grin before walking into his arms.

  …

  Relief washed through John as he pulled Rachel into his embrace. She wasn’t going back to her ex. “Can I get you something?” He rubbed a hand down her back. “A drink? Coffee?” She’d been through a lot today. Little sleep the night before, then work, their interrupted evening, and dealing with Greg all in the same day. She had to be physically and emotionally exhausted, and although he’d like nothing more than to carry her to bed and make love to her, he’d back off for tonight. It was enough just to have her here.

  She raised her head from its perch on his shoulder and leaned away from him to look into his face. “Know what I’d really like?”

  Hopefully the same thing he did, but when he looked at the weariness in her face, guilt kicked in for the direction of his thoughts. He shook his head, saying, “Tell me. Anything you want.”

  “I’d like to lie down next to you and have you hold me,” she said, her voice exposing her exhaustion.

  “You got it, babe,” he said, taking her purse off her shoulder and setting it on a chair. He held her hand and led her to his bedroom, shutting off lights as they went. His bed had already been turned down—he’d been attempting to read when she’d arrived—and a small lamp on the nightstand shed a soft glow of light on the far side of the room. One of the two windows was opened a crack, and the steady drum of crickets drifted into the room.

  He led her to the bed, and she sat on the edge. He knelt before her and slipped off her shoes. “You okay with the clothes you have on, or would you like something more comfortable?” He pointed to a laundry basket sitting next to the bed, which had several T-shirts on top of the pile.

  She shook her head. “I’m okay for now.”

  She looked so tired and a little nervous, and he didn’t have a clue exactly what was happening. But she had come to him and needed comfort from him, and that’s really all that mattered.

  He guided her down onto the mattress, helping her put her feet up, then covered her with the sheet and a light blanket. Crossing to the other side of the bed, he turned out the light and crawled into bed beside her. Since the night was cool, he had on a T-shirt with his boxers, and decided to keep those on. He moved to the middle of the bed and reached over, pulling her into his arms. She sighed as she rested her head on his shoulder, and stretched out against him. “Thank you, John,” she whispered.