Another slow breath. And her lips parted. “You didn’t ask.”
His eyes seemed to search her face. “I didn’t. Tonight?” His face scrunched up just a little, like he didn’t understand something.
Her eyes dropped. And they landed on his lips. The lips that had been voted by her and her girlfriends as the most kissable lips in school. Those lips.
Nothing changed about that. She would still vote for those lips. The most kissable lips in town. The most kissable lips in Missouri. The most kissable lips she’d ever seen.
Stupid.
She dragged her eyes away.
Even as he shook his head more firmly. “No. We’ll see how this shakes out. I don’t know what kind of game Dana is playing, but I’m sure it’s a game. She couldn’t possibly want to take Huck with her. She didn’t want that complication in her life before, and she hasn’t changed that much. I’m just not sure what her angle is. But we don’t have to do anything hasty. Or crazy.”
His words made her throat tight. Of course. His lips were kissable, and she wanted him to touch her.
And he was doing everything he could to backpedal and get away from her. Of course.
She needed to back off. Way off.
Water. That’s what she needed.
“I’m thirsty.”
His eyes widened, surprised at her abrupt subject change. This was one of those things he wouldn’t figure out. He would have no idea that she’d been secretly longing to kiss him practically all her life.
He shook his head, as if shoving the thoughts that had been running through it out of his consciousness. “Of course. You’re just getting home from work. Let’s go in. We’ll figure out what we’re having for their supper.”
“Good. You’re right. Supper first. And I’ll help you however I can with Dana, of course.” She sounded like she’d just run a mile or had a major surprise drop in her lap. But he didn’t say anything, and she was thankful for his kindness in ignoring it.
He opened the door, and she walked in. Determined not to make a fool of herself over her best friend. Especially in front of his ex-wife.
Chapter 9
Clark walked inside still feeling a little dazed. He’d almost kissed his best friend.
No. That wasn’t exactly true. He was pretty sure she’d had no idea that he’d had an overwhelming urge to close the distance between them, wrap his arms around her, and kiss her.
Pretty sure she didn’t know.
He needed to make sure she didn’t find out. That would totally ruin the best friendship he’d ever had. What he had with Marlowe rivaled anything that he had with his brothers even. And he loved his brothers more than he could say.
But what he had with Marlowe was special. A friendship that only came around once in a lifetime. He couldn’t screw it up.
Not just for him. But for Huck, since he would be devastated if Marlowe walked out of their lives.
The idea that he’d had, that had floated into his brain, was as perfect as apple blossom petals on the spring breeze: that Marlowe and he get married.
It was the best and worst idea he’d ever had. The best for his heart. The worst for everything else.
Well, maybe marrying Dana was the worst idea he’d had. The worst mistake he’d ever made, anyway.
“Dana. Wow, it’s been such a long time. And you look really great.” Marlowe’s voice sounded friendly and sweet as she walked around Dana who was sitting at a barstool at the island in the kitchen doing something on her phone. Neither Huck nor Cody were anywhere in sight.
Dana looked up. “Marlowe. You’re still hanging around this hick town? I thought you would blow this joint. Get your chemistry degree and get out of here.”
Marlowe just shook her head.
Clark wasn’t sure whether Dana was being mean on purpose, or if she’d forgotten that Marlowe’s mother and sister had died, leaving Kylie for her to raise.
Regardless, Marlowe didn’t say anything more, but walked around and grabbed the vegetable tray that she must have prepared this morning, or even last night, out of the refrigerator for the kids to snack on.
Dana’s eyes had gone back to her phone. When Marlowe opened the refrigerator door, Dana’s head popped up, her eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed.
Dana’s eyes slid from Marlowe to Clark. Clark didn’t have anything to hide; he met her gaze. The wheels were turning in her head, but he had absolutely no idea what she was thinking.
Dana tilted her head. “Are you and...Marlowe...living together?” Her eyes slid down to his ring finger on his left hand which had been bare since he’d taken their wedding ring off the day their divorce was final.
It’d been kind of foolish and pathetically romantic, maybe, on his part that he kept it on until the paper was actually signed and recorded. Always having that hope that she’d change her mind and come back. He hadn’t wanted to be the person whose marriage failed. He hadn’t wanted to let Huck down.
“The wind blew a tree down on Marlowe’s house last night. She’s staying with me until it’s repaired. That just makes sense.” He hoped he sounded firm. Dana had a way of making him feel like an imbecile.
She lifted her brows like she didn’t really believe him, then kind of shrugged.
“So how’s life been in New York City? I heard a while ago that you were going to be a player off Broadway. How’d that go?”
Bless Marlowe for getting Dana to talk about herself. That was the one thing she seemed to be able to do without fighting with him. As long as they were saying good things about her.
They chatted for a while, with Dana mentioning her theater experience and what she was doing.
The kids came out and grabbed some vegetables as Dana continued to talk about herself.
Clark didn’t want to interrupt the conversation to ask about supper. He didn’t want to leave Marlowe to have to deal with Dana by herself, so he grabbed a package of meat and put it in the microwave to defrost.
If Marlowe had something planned, she would probably say, but she didn’t, so he just kept working on making spaghetti and meat sauce while Marlowe chatted with Dana.
“I’m not going to be here for supper,” Marlowe said to Dana, having finally gotten a word in edgewise, and Clark tilted an ear in her direction. “Clark has agreed to drive me in to my meeting. He had some errands in town he needed to run anyway. Is that still good with you, Clark?”
Earlier when he’d wanted to kiss Marlowe, it had been attraction. Plain and simple.
Now, he still wanted to kiss Marlowe, but out of attraction and gratitude. “Yeah, I have to get a bolt at the hardware store, plus I have a few other things I’d like to do in town. So yeah, I definitely am still in for taking you.”
“Do you mind if Kylie rides along with you?”
“Absolutely not. I’d love to have her.”
“Can I go too? Please? I like to go to the hardware store.” Huck’s eager eyes shifted from Marlowe to his dad.
Clark opened his mouth, but Dana beat him to it. “Darling, I want you to stay here with me. We have so much chatting we need to catch up on.”
Well, Clark wasn’t sure how that was going to go for her. Huck wasn’t exactly the kind of kid that sat around and talked. He didn’t have trouble talking. But he was usually doing something while he chatted. And he probably wasn’t the slightest bit interested in chatting about Dana, which was the only thing Clark had ever seen Dana interested in chatting about.
“Since your mom’s here, son, you probably need to take advantage of spending some time with her.” He didn’t really want to say it, but he thought that was the right thing to do.
Dana pressed her lips together into a smug look. It was one he hated. So he looked away. His eyes landed on Marlowe, who was watching him. Her eyes were serious and gray like the morning mist and springtime. The kind of eyes she had kinda changed color, depending on what she wore and on her mood, too.
He liked them when they were that shade. Just a hint of
green, a light green and pretty. With enough gray to make them mysterious.
“If you’ve got a handle on supper, I need to go take a shower.”
Clark nodded. “Okay. I think Cody’s in the bathroom at the end of the hall.” He opened the microwave and flipped the meat. “Pretty sure your shower stuff is in a box on the floor of your room. That’s where I set it. It was the last thing I brought over from your house this morning before I left. You can use my shower.”
Marlowe nodded. The room he had was the only room that had a master bath. There was a powder room downstairs but not a shower.
“Thanks,” Marlowe said, moving through the kitchen and out into the living room.
He watched her go. Familiar and yet new. Why was he noticing her all of the sudden? Did one hour in a storm cellar with their bodies pressed together change the way he’d thought his whole life?
Sure felt like it.
If it weren’t for risking their friendship, and Huck’s security, he really thought he might go after her. She was definitely the kind of girl he wanted. After his disastrous marriage with Dana—not doing that again. He wanted someone exactly like Marlowe.
He finished making spaghetti and had the kids sitting at the table with plates in front of them—Cody and Dana had kind of politely declined—before Marlowe came back downstairs, dressed in a flowing skirt and a fitted T-shirt. He hadn’t seen that outfit in a long time.
“Can’t find any of your usual things?” he asked with a grin.
He had to admit he’d been in kind of a hurry this morning when he’d been grabbing her stuff and throwing them into a bag.
“Exactly. That, and some of the things I’d normally wear are kind of wrinkled. I’ll have to spend some time sorting things out. I’m not complaining though, honestly, I just really appreciate you going over and getting them.”
Sometime during the hour or so that they had been home, someone had stopped at her house and put yellow caution tape around it. Clark noticed that as they walked down the walk.
“I really appreciate you saying that. But I especially appreciate you getting me out of spending the evening stuck in the house with them tonight. As much as I hate to leave Huck.”
“Good. I kinda hoped you felt that way. I would have felt really bad if you wanted to be there.”
“Yeah. I wanted to be anywhere but in the house with my ex and her new husband.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with that? You seem a little upset.”
“No. Not really. I guess it just feels like another kick. You know? Like, she left me, and that was a kick. She served me divorce papers, and that was a kick. She didn’t want our son, that was a really hard kick. A new boyfriend every few months, and each time, that was a kick. Not really because I was jealous or anything, just because it was just one more kick. Each time, she’s saying, ‘you’re not good enough.’”
Someone had diarrhea of the mouth today. He didn’t usually get that sappy and emotional about his divorce.
But Marlowe had asked, and they’d never really talked about it.
He wasn’t in love with Dana. He didn’t even really like her. But she could hurt him. Because they had been married. Everything she did, everything that had to do with him and his child and his ex-wife finding someone else to love, just said loud and clear, you weren’t good enough.
“I guess there aren’t too many people that are good enough for Dana. According to her anyway.” Marlowe cast a concerned glance in his direction, and he met her eyes and shrugged.
“I guess her getting married would have to be the last kick, right? There can’t be anything else.”
Marlowe’s lips pressed tight together; she looked away.
He stopped with his hand on his truck door latch. “I’m asking you. Tell me, what could make this worse? You’re saying this couldn’t be the last kick?”
Her eyes got a little wider; she breathed in.
Kylie had been sitting on the porch steps, playing a video game with earbuds in, not noticing them at the truck. Marlowe called her and Kylie started toward them, walking slowly, still playing.
Marlowe waited for her to get in the back and buckle herself. Then she opened her own pickup door and got in.
Clark followed her, slamming his door shut behind him, putting his hand on the key, but not turning it. Waiting.
“I think you could go on,” Marlowe said in a soft voice, making sure Kylie was still concentrating on her game. “If she gets custody. If she takes Huck away. If Cody and she have children together.” There was a small silence. “I don’t know. I’ve never been through it. Those are just a few of the things I can think of.”
He felt like slapping the steering wheel, and for the second time that day, he kinda wished he could swear and get away with it.
“Thanks.”
“You asked. I wouldn’t have told you otherwise. Especially since you’d just asked today why I didn’t tell you about Dana. So I could hardly not tell you about this, since you specifically asked me outright.”
He started the truck back down the driveway, pulling out onto the road and heading toward town without saying anything.
After a few minutes of silence, Marlowe spoke again. “I know you’re not happy about this, and that’s what your silence means. But it feels like you’re angry at me. And I wish I hadn’t said anything.”
“I’m sorry.” He blew out a breath. “I’m definitely not angry at you. And you’re right. I hadn’t thought of those things, and I’m not looking forward to them. But thank you for saying something. I’d rather be prepared. I guess. Although, I suppose I’d rather just not think about it at all.”
“Well, that’s pretty hard with Dana here. But she usually doesn’t stay long. She usually doesn’t visit at all, actually. Will she be here until tomorrow?”
He loved the little hopeful note in her voice. “Someone else is looking forward to them leaving?”
“Of course. Your best friend. I hate it whenever she comes around, because you get gloomy and morose and depressed and I start to worry about you.”
She said that last part a little softer and a little fast, like she almost didn’t want to admit it. So of course, he had to jump on that.
“You worry about me? Worry? Really? So like how worried is worried?”
“You keep talking like that, and I’ll not only stop worrying, but I will find a way to leave you alone with Dana for the rest of her stay.”
“Fine. Worry about me. I don’t care.”
Chapter 10
When Marlowe walked into the church basement, she was greeted by the smell of coffee, mixed with cinnamon and brown sugar. Lynette, the pastor’s wife, must have made her famous cinnamon rolls. For some reason, Marlowe felt like she could really use some.
She made a mental note that if there were any left over, she’d take some home for Clark. She didn’t consider that emotional eating, as much as she knew it would cheer him up a little.
Having his ex around was always hard just because of the nature of their relationship and how it ended. And maybe even because she hadn’t wanted their son. When Clark said it was like a kick, he wasn’t joking.
She’d seen it.
“Marlowe!” Lynette said in her soothing, sweet voice. She and her husband had eight children; she homeschooled them and handled all the many and varied duties of a pastor’s wife with enviable competence. Lynette had been born to be a pastor’s wife. Although the town had had a little trouble accepting them at first, because Deacon Hudson, Clark’s brother, had been expecting to take over the church when the old pastor retired.
Marlowe didn’t think the circumstances that surrounded his inability to become ordained should have affected whether or not he was given the pastorate here, but it had.
Despite the unfairness and the pain, Deacon had handled the situation with as much class as anyone could. Marlowe just hoped someday the truth came out. She couldn’t hold all that against Lynette though. Lynette was doing the very bes
t she could, and Marlowe loved her.
“Your cinnamon rolls smell amazing. I didn’t even know I was hungry until I walked in.”
“Well, you can have as many as you want, because I made a triple batch.”
“Fantastic. If there are any left, Clark would love to have one.”
“I heard his ex was in town. I made some for the tornado victims, and I set two back for him and one for each of your kids.” Lynette’s face looked serene and joyful. There could be no doubt she loved her “job” as pastor’s wife.
“Thank you.”
Before Marlowe could say anything else, Lynette spoke again. “We’ve organized an auction to benefit the families who lost their homes, businesses, or other personal property in the town of Trumbull. Maybe you’ve heard about it.”
Lynette held out a piece of paper with the word “auction” in big block letters at the top.
While Marlowe was skimming over it, Lynette spoke again. “Clark’s brother, Chandler, agreed today to donate one month of his time to be sold at auction.” Her eyes were bright with excitement. “We’ve done dinner or a day before, but this is huge, and I’m expecting it to bring in a lot of money! Just the magnitude will draw people to the auction so some of the lesser items will make money. I’m not sure...” Her voice trailed off. She tapped her chin with her finger. “My husband was not sure that this was a good idea and of course will make sure that nothing lascivious will be going on. He’s offering his companionship or work. Nothing of any sinful nature.”
“Of course,” Marlowe said. A few years ago, she would have said Chandler would never have agreed to that anyway. But every time he came back from Hollywood, he seemed a little more jaded. It wouldn’t shock her to hear that he lost his small-town values. As much as it would disappoint her and his family.
But she didn’t say any of that. It would just be gossip.
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