“Sure. I love them.” Then Marco did something that up until now Sophia hadn’t noticed. He stole a love sick glance in Lizzie’s direction.
If she hadn’t been so dialed in to him at that moment, watching his face for a reaction as to whether or not he sincerely liked kids or was just paying it lip service, she might not have noticed it. But there it was right in front of her: an unmistakable gob-smacked helpless gaze in his blue eyes.
“You’re not Italian, are you?” Sophia asked the poor smitten guy. “Or Hispanic?”
“No,” he sighed. “My mom just liked the name.”
“Are you and Danny good friends?” Sophia stole her own glance across the table to Lizzie and Danny, who seemed to be only aware of each other. It was as if no one else was sitting across the table from them. She felt a sudden wave of sympathy for poor Marco because, after all, he was her frog.
Jaw tight, Marco turned to her. “We used to be—yeah. We’re friends.”
“How did you and Danny meet?” Sophia asked.
Marco attacked his bread with a stick of butter and then tried to smile. It was more of a sneer. “I lost one of my sales accounts, so I advertised for a roommate to help make ends meet. That’s pretty much how he and Lizzie met.”
“Oh. Ohhhh.” Sophia patted his back.
The rest of the evening took an eternity. Sophia passed the time by grading each dish as it came to their table (silently, of course, as she didn’t want to be rude) and asking Marco if he was going to be okay. He repeatedly told her that he would be, but his lost puppy dog look wasn’t too convincing.
Finally, both men walked Sophia and Lizzie to the car.
Marco again kissed Sophia’s hand. “Thanks for a lovely evening. I’ll call you.”
Sophia wanted to tell him not to bother, but she also didn’t want him to lose face in front of his cheating, opportunistic roommate. You’re not a nice man, Danny-boy. Lizzie had the decency not to kiss Danny in front of Marco, who Sophia was really worried about now. He honestly looked like he might cry at any minute.
“What’s wrong with you?” Sophia barked once they’d pulled out of the parking lot.
“What? What is it? Was he that awful?” Lizzie asked.
“No, stupid! He’s still in-love with you. Crazy in love. And Danny cut in on his action. How could you let him steal you away?”
“Oh, puhleeze. No one stole anyone away. A person has to belong to someone to be stolen, and that my dear, will never happen.”
“You’re mean. Just because you’re beautiful, that doesn’t mean you should take advantage of poor love-sick men.”
“Honey, look. I’m having a fun time, that’s all. Not interested in settling down with one man. Eventually I’ll get my comedy routine down pat and take my show on the road. Now, Marco knew that about me and he lied and told me he was the same way.”
“But you said he wasn’t interested in settling down.”
“Okay, I lied. He’s totally into having a family and settling down. That’s why I thought he’d be perfect for you. I didn’t want to tell you right off so you wouldn’t freak out too much.”
“Thanks a lot. He might be perfect if he wasn’t in-love with you.”
“Sorry, honey. I really thought he was past all that by now.”
“He’s not.” How could some people just switch partners so easily, as if love were nothing but a two-step?
“That’s all right. We’ll try someone different next time. Someone I’ve never dated.”
“No, thanks. He’ll probably be pining away for you, too.”
Is this what she had to look forward to? Being second best to men who couldn’t get who they really wanted? She wanted to be first again with someone. First and last. Like it had once been with Riley.
“Maybe I should date Angie’s cousin.”
Or maybe she should just give up on this farce called love and visit the sperm bank. After a while, Daddy-o would get used to the idea. She’d just have to ease him into it. First she’d lie and tell him some guy knocked her up and left town. Then, after the blood pressure medication had kicked in and after a couple of years, once he’d fallen in love with his grandchild, she’d show him a photo of the sperm bank and explain everything.
“I’m allowed one fail,” Lizzie said. “Don’t you give up on me!”
She dropped Sophia off in the driveway of her home after apologizing a dozen times, and, thoroughly disgusted with both Lizzie and love and life and men in general, Sophia stared at her house. Then she turned to Riley’s house. Nine o’clock and the lights were on inside.
Good, because she and Riley were going to have a little chat.
5
Sophia pounded on Riley’s front door. She wanted answers from the man, and she wanted them now. How dare he move in next door to her without realizing he was moving in next door to her! How dare he waltz into town and forbid her from seeing Lucy? How dare he kiss her and just walk out the door? How dare he show up here with all his swagger and cool and act like she was going to eventually forgive him?
He opened it after only a moment, took one look at her and cocked an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”
“No!”
“I got that idea. Come in.” He waved her inside and she stomped past him into the family room.
He’d done a lot with the place in the week or so he’d been here. Though it was decidedly Marine sparse and orderly, he had a comfortable looking leather couch and real curtains on the windows.
“I want to…I have to ask you a question,” Sophia said.
“Go ahead.”
She tried not to stare at him. He stood in front of her, arms folded across his wide chest, dressed in his usual casual cool. In every way, he was diametrically the opposite of Marco. Every bit as good looking, sure, but in a thrown-together kind of way. Riley carried himself with a look that said: ‘I don’t care what you think. Take it or leave it.’ He now seemed to have several days’ worth of beard growth dusting his chin and jawline.
She squinted. “Are you growing a beard?”
“That’s what you want to ask me?”
“No, no.” She shook her head. “Um. Why did you kiss me?”
He grinned. “Why do you think?”
“I think you did it to make me crazy! To rattle my cage. Otherwise, why would you apologize for it?”
“I apologized because I shocked you. I kissed you because I wanted to.”
Everything was so cut and dry for Riley. But it couldn’t be that simple. Not with them. “You didn’t shock me. You just—”
“I know. I tried to rush things. Like I did once before. You’re not ready, and I get it.”
“Ready for what exactly?”
“For me.”
“What makes you think I’ll ever be ready? You hurt me, Riley. I cried for weeks.” Strike that. Months. Years.
“I did what I had to do.”
“No, you didn’t. You made a choice, and it didn’t involve me. But we were married. You were my family. Remember? You wanted to marry me.”
“I remember.”
“Crap! How is it that people walk around falling in love all the time and changing their minds about it?” She was talking too much, even if it was the wine giving her courage. She should shut up before she said too much but her brain appeared disengaged from her tongue. “My parents got married for keeps. Isn’t anything permanent anymore?”
He took a step closer. “What happened, baby?”
She winced at his term of endearment. No one had called her that in years, and the first time she heard it again couldn’t be out of his lips. He’d lost that right. “Don’t. Don’t say that.”
“Something happened tonight.”
One could say that. She’d taken first steps to find someone new, someone who she could love as much as she had once loved Riley, and it had been a huge and resounding failure. Online failure plus in real life failure equaled epic failure.
“Nothing,” Sophia said. “I went on
a date tonight.”
“A date?”
“With a guy who’s in love with someone else.” Stop. Talking. You do know this is your ex who’s listening to you moan about how unlovable you are? Hellooooo? “And I thought it was so sad. Why does love always hurt so much? Why do we love the ones who can’t love us back?”
And why wasn’t Mama here so she could ask her these questions, instead of her husband who now lived next door? That’s it. I’ve had too much to drink. Damned lightweight. He didn’t speak for a moment, only stared at her, those liquid brown eyes tender and a little bit sad.
She threw up her hands. “I need to shut up and get out of here.” She turned to go, but found herself spinning and suddenly up close and personal with Riley’s pecs.
“Not so fast.”
Her hands went up against his chest, her purse slid right off her shoulder to the ground, and she fought to get her bearings. “Don’t blame me if I throw up all over you. It would serve you right spinning me like that. I’ve been drinking.”
“I can see that.”
Riley being a foot taller meant that her head had always fit neatly below his neck. Now she stared at his big powerful neck and tried to remember how to breathe. “Then you’re stupid.”
“There’s stupid and then there’s honest. Right now you’re getting a little bit of both from me. Look, I haven’t really been fair to you since I got here. I want you back. I think we can make this marriage work again. Do you hear me?”
The room spun even more as the world tried not to fall off its axis, and she had the presence of mind to grab two fistfuls of Riley’s shirt before she fell down. She didn’t want to hear any of this, and yet she did. Once again, as always, he inspired conflicting emotions warring with each other. Anger, shock, love, joy, and fear all fought for first place in the war zone now called her heart. He couldn’t mean it. He didn’t mean it.
“You shouldn’t say things like that to me.”
“Why not?”
“Six years, Riley! Six years!” She didn’t want to hear it, because he’d been the one to ruin everything.
“I know,” he said, and his thumb brushed her jawline. “But that’s what I signed up for, before I met you.”
She hit his shoulder. Hard. “I call bullshit. I would have gone anywhere with you, and I did.”
“Yeah. But we both know how that worked out. You’re not exactly a military wife.”
Her spine froze in place. Hell, every part of her turned to ice including the fun parts which a minute ago had been almost ready and willing to come out and play. “Not a military wife.”
“Well…yeah.”
There was no other way to take that. He’d just confirmed some of her worst fears and told her in so many words that she’d failed him. Failed at being the kind of wife he wanted and needed when she’d tried so hard. She’d been a twenty-one-year-old newlywed away from home for the first time, and apparently not good enough for Private Jacobs.
Screw him and screw the damned Marines.
She pushed on his chest. “You just called me a bad wife.”
“Military wife.” He didn’t quite let go of her, though his hold loosened a little. “Did you hear the part about wanting you back?”
“Those are just words.”
“No. They’re not.” His hands tightened on her elbows. “Not to me.”
Then Sophia knew exactly what to do, because, let’s face it, Riley deserved what she was about to do and more. Hadn’t he just admitted he wanted her back? That had to have been difficult for him, especially when in the next breath he’d called her a bad wife. Tough segue. She reached up, stretching to stand on her tiptoes and kiss him on the lips. Not just any kiss. She put all her effort into it, giving him all her pent-up raw and hemmed-in passion, years of it bottled up inside her as she nipped and sucked at his mouth. Her hands drifted under his t-shirt to roam down his back, feasting on the taut and tight muscles. He groaned then and deepened the kiss, taking over, one hand on the nape of her neck positioning her exactly where he wanted her.
She forced herself to pull away, a little breathless. “Sorry. Shouldn’t have done that.” Stepping away from him, she picked her purse up off the floor where she’d dropped it and moved to the door. “I just had to check something out.”
Behind her, Riley groaned again, louder this time. “Dammit, woman.”
Could she help the little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth? No, she didn’t think she could. “Goodnight, Riley.”
With that, she went out the front door, and closed it behind her. She was fairly certain she heard Riley curse. Not a military wife her ass. She could execute shock and awe too, and she’d dare anyone to tell her otherwise.
6
On the following Sunday afternoon, Sophia stood in Genevieve and Wallace’s sprawling ranch-style home, in her state of the art kitchen. Not one to do anything small, Wallace had installed four ovens when he’d built the kitchen, so Gen could do some of the baking at home for the Sweet Southern Buns bakery she ran in town. Wallace and his brother Billy were at baseball practice with their two boys, Sam and Wally, and Gen was trying to get an early jump on birthday preparations for Wally’s eighth birthday party. Meanwhile, Sophia was trying her best to control the other three children, Emily and Lindsey, who at seven and five were dying to help their mother, and the youngest, Brandon, who was far too young to help at only two.
“Kids,” Gen finally said, “Let’s go put a movie on. Mommy really needs to get this done.”
“I want to help Mommy,” Brandon said, licking frosting off his chubby finger.
“I know, sugar baby,” Gen kissed his cheek. “I’ll come and get you when I need your help. Okay?”
“I’ll put the movie on,” Sophia said. “C’mon, guys.”
“You come back,” Gen called out to Sophia. “I need to talk to you.”
Sophia didn’t have to guess what that was all about. The news of Riley being her next door neighbor had now made it through the Turlock family grapevine. Last night Diana had called to warn her that she thought Scott might pay a visit to Riley any day now. Brooke had phoned with warnings to proceed with extreme caution, and now Gen would have her say. Nothing less than Sophia would expect from her ever loving, overprotective family. Luckily, Sophia’s big sisters all lived out of state and wouldn’t know anything until their next visit. With Daddy-o and Eileen in Italy again, at least she didn’t have to worry about them for a while.
After she’d put on Frozen and settled Brandon in between his two big sisters, she went back to the kitchen to see what she could do to help her sister-in-law. “Okay. They’re watching Frozen again. Hope that’s okay.”
Gen sighed. “Thanks. They want to help, but all they do is get under foot and make an even bigger mess.”
“And anyway, you wanted to talk to me.” Sophia joined Gen and the cupcake assembly line. Wally was, of course, also into baseball since he and his cousin Sam were pretty much joined at the hip these days, and so every cupcake had a sugared bat and baseball glove on it. All sixty of them.
“Sure did,” Gen said with a smile. “So Riley’s back.”
“Yep.” Sophia didn’t elaborate.
“Living next door to you? Did I hear that right?”
“Uh-huh.” Sophia put a tiny bat and glove on the cupcake and went to the next one.
“Good Lord, sugar, why are you so calm about all this?”
“I’ve had a little time to get used to the idea.”
Which didn’t mean she was all that calm about it. Riley had just told her he wanted her back, and she didn’t know what to do with that news. It had been two days and she hadn’t digested it yet. It was a tall order. Instead, she’d done her best to avoid him, always making sure he was already gone when she stepped outside.
“Why is he here? What does he want? He could have had a job anywhere else in the country.”
“I don’t know, but he said he wants us to get back together.”
> Gen dropped a cupcake to the ground and like he had a sixth sense, the family dog, Milo, a one-hundred-plus-pound golden retriever and shepherd mix, lumbered into the kitchen for cleanup duty. “All right, Milo. You can have this one.”
Milo, his Hoover duty done, took his place nearby, ever hopeful for another mistake.
“He came right out and said it?” Gen asked. “Just like that?”
“Not exactly.” Sophia thought he might have said it because she’d been so vulnerable with him and spilled her guts. She told herself he hadn’t meant it, but in her heart she realized that wasn’t Riley’s way. He never said anything he didn’t mean.
“What, then?”
“I told him I went out on a date, and I don’t know, maybe—”
“You two are divorced. That’s his problem. He has no rights anymore since he made his choice.” Gen held another cupcake in her hand, frosting it.
This time, Sophia stilled Gen’s hand before she spoke. Milo was pretty fat these days and he didn’t need another cupcake. “See, that’s the thing. I’m not really…exactly…in the fullest sense of the word…um, legally separated from Riley.”
Gen stared at Sophia, mouth gaping. “Are you telling me you’re not actually divorced?”
“Don’t tell anyone,” Sophia hissed. Diana, Lizzie and Angie knew, and she’d like to keep the amount of people who knew the facts in the digits she could count on one hand.
“But. I mean, what about the papers and Giancarlo?”
Sophia sighed, remembering. Daddy-o had dragged her to his lawyer after a few weeks of Sophia being home and they’d had the papers drawn up. A no-contest divorce would be easy, a no-brainer. No kids, no property. Easy. All she had to do was sign on the dotted line and send them to Riley in care of the U.S. Marines Corps for his signature. A few days later the papers had arrived. They were still sitting in the bottom drawer of her desk. Unsigned.
“I never got around to it.” Sophia licked some frosting off her thumb.
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