either. This is real. You said you can’t really get to know a person through letters. I think you can. I feel as though I know you, and can you honestly say you don’t know me? When I get home, God willing, I’ll ask you properly, down on one knee, to be my wife.
I’ll write again tomorrow. Write me again, too. I’ll keep in touch as much as I can. It’s lights-out so I’ll sign off for now.
Hugs and kisses,
Jacob
Mary Jo leaned forward slightly. “Were you able to find out anything about the previous house owner?” she asked. “I want to learn whatever I can about Joan and Jacob.”
Mack had forgotten that he’d volunteered to check with “the landlord”—although it was hardly necessary, since he owned the duplex. He regretted now that he’d lied to Mary Jo about that. He knew she’d be upset at the low rent he was charging her if she realized he was her landlord. She’d feel he was patronizing her or maybe that he expected something in return. Mack suppressed a despairing sigh. He just kept digging himself a deeper hole. One of these days he’d have to tell her the truth—and he would, when the time felt right. Although he wasn’t quite sure how he’d recognize that moment of clarity …
“I did say I’d look into that, didn’t I? I apologize, but I haven’t got to it yet.”
“That’s okay,” she said, accepting his answer easily enough. “Ready to eat?”
He saw that the table was set, with the pot of stew and a plate of biscuits placed in the middle of the table, wine and water glasses by each plate.
“I fed Noelle before you got here,” she told him.
That was his cue to put the baby back in her seat and sit down at the table, which he did. Mary Jo was an excellent cook—as good as his mother, and that was a real compliment. Her own parents died when she was still in high school, and she’d taken over kitchen duties, more out of necessity than desire. Still, she seemed to enjoy cooking and took pride in putting together meals that were nutritious as well as appealing.
He was no slouch in the kitchen, if he did say so himself, but until she’d moved in next door, his meals had been haphazard affairs. Other than when it was his turn at the firehouse, he never really bothered with cooking. He usually relied on frozen microwave dinners or the various fast-food choices available in Cedar Cove. He didn’t make a habit of dropping by unannounced at his parents’, but whenever he did, his mother always insisted he stay for dinner. Mack didn’t often refuse.
“Hey, this is great,” he told Mary Jo after the first bite. And it was. Tender chunks of chicken, fresh vegetables that weren’t cooked to mush, lots of flavorful broth. The biscuits that accompanied it melted in his mouth. “A guy could get used to eating like this,” he said jovially.
Mary Jo didn’t comment.
Oh, boy, he’d done it again. Would he never learn? “I, uh, didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just wanted you to know the meal’s delicious…. I’m not suggesting anything else.”
Mary Jo carefully set her fork next to her plate. “I was afraid of this.”
“Afraid of what?” He swallowed before he’d finished chewing, and the biscuit nearly stuck in his throat.
“It’s still awkward between us, don’t you think?”
He nodded, grabbing his wineglass and gulping down a mouthful.
“You don’t need to work so hard, Mack.”
He frowned, unsure what she meant.
“We’re friends, right?”
“Friends,” he repeated.
“Good,” she said. She seemed satisfied. “Friends are comfortable with each other. We shouldn’t worry that what we say is going to be taken wrong or out of context.”
He coughed and nodded again.
“Then relax and enjoy yourself. Stop worrying that I’ll be offended, okay?” She sent him a dazzling smile.
“Okay,” he said. This comment was supposed to put him at ease, and yet her words had the opposite effect. Yes, they were friends, but Mack had hoped they would be so much more.
Two
It still felt strange, yet, oh, so wonderful, to wake up every morning with his wife beside him. Linc Wyse had grown accustomed to married life with a speed that astonished him. He’d been caught up in a whirlwind from the moment he met Lori Bellamy.
Less than two months ago, her car had broken down on the highway. Linc had been in Cedar Cove checking up on his stubborn little sister, who’d moved out of the family home and into a duplex next door to McAfee. The firefighter had delivered Noelle, and next thing Linc knew, the guy was her neighbor. He seemed to be over at Mary Jo’s far too often, and Linc considered it his responsibility—his duty—to make sure nothing untoward was going on. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with the situation his sister had gotten herself into now. One man had already taken advantage of her, and Linc wasn’t letting that happen again. He didn’t care how many times Mary Jo told him to butt out and to stop interfering.
Lori made a faint, waking sound, then yawned and arched her back before snuggling into Linc’s arms. “Is it morning?” she asked, still groggy with sleep.
Linc kissed the top of her head. Mornings with Lori were the very best of his life. “So it seems.”
“I’ll make coffee.” She leaned over to turn off the clock radio, cutting off a traffic report in midsentence.
When she started to toss aside the covers, Linc stopped her. “No need to get up so soon, is there?” He nuzzled her neck and slipped his arm around her, bringing her closer. She was warm and soft and infinitely lovely.
“I didn’t think you were the sort of man who liked to linger in bed,” Lori teased as she slid her arms around his neck. Her breasts grazed his chest and he briefly closed his eyes at the sensation.
“I never used to be,” he murmured. “Until now.” She had no idea how true that was. As the oldest, Linc had held the family together after his parents died—the family and the business.
He was the first one at the car repair shop every morning and the last one to leave at night. All he’d done was work and worry. He worried about his family, about the business, about the economy. If there was something to lose sleep over, Linc was ready to take it on.
Then he’d met Lori.
His relationships with women had always soured and he’d never been able to figure out where he’d gone wrong. But it was definitely a pattern; he’d meet someone, things would be great for a while and then it was over. He didn’t understand it. Mary Jo claimed he was too “bossy” and “controlling” but she wasn’t exactly a relationship expert, so he ignored her opinion—and the cycle of ever-shorter romances had continued. But all of that changed the night he’d stopped to help when Lori’s car had broken down.
He’d nearly driven past. He’d already put in a long day and he was still annoyed
