been out-of-date, from the appliances to the cupboards. Just a few months after their small wedding, the room had been gutted and everything was replaced.
A bowl of red apples sat on the round maple table. Everything looked the same, but it wasn’t. He wanted desperately to push time back to when everything was perfect in his marriage.
He found Kira at the counter, taking pieces of chicken from the skillet. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Hi.”
He had trouble finding the words. “Hi. Am I too early?”
“No. Just in time.”
His gaze combed over her. He was starved for her. Denying himself the pleasure she could give him had been punishing. Today she had on one of her prim schoolteacher blouses, his favorite, a rose-pink one that brought out the color of her skin.
He swallowed back the dryness in his throat. “How did school go today?”
“Fine,” she said. “Everyone is complaining about finals.”
He leaned against the counter. He’d missed talking with her. “I remember that age, it seemed to take an eternity to get to the end of school.”
She smiled and started setting out the food. “The seniors are anxious to graduate, and get me out of their hair.”
He knew that wasn’t true. They all loved her. The girls considered her a friend, and the boys were half in love with her. She was young, barely thirty-one, and attractive. They all gravitated to her. “And a lot are going to be heartbroken at saying goodbye to you.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’ve always given your students a lot of attention.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“No, it just means you’re dedicated, and very good at what you do. Not to mention pretty.”
Kira couldn’t believe she was blushing at her husband’s compliment. Trace had told her she was attractive before, but not for a long time. He hadn’t talked to her at all.
“Thank you,” she said.
He shrugged. “I’m not saying anything that isn’t true.”
“It’s still nice to hear,” she said. They looked at each other for a long time. Kira tried not to react, but it was impossible. Trace McKane was a handsome man. She’d thought that the first time she’d seen him. She’d been in town less than twenty-four hours before falling hopelessly in love. Something she’d never thought would happen, but the quiet rancher somehow convinced her to trust again. His slow hands and eager mouth coaxed her into giving herself to him, and they married within two months. From that first night of loving to now, she’d never regretted that decision.
She turned and opened the refrigerator to get the milk. The cool air felt good against her heated face. She couldn’t believe how nervous she was acting. He was her husband, for God’s sake. No, Trace hadn’t been her husband for weeks. And sadly that wasn’t going to change.
CHAPTER THREE
AN HOUR later, Kira sat at the kitchen table and watched as Trace finished the last of his meal.
He leaned back in the chair. “That was delicious, Kira.”
She let out a breath, not realizing she’d been holding it. “I’m glad you liked it.”
He gave a half smile. “Can’t deny I’ve always loved your fried chicken.”
And she loved his praise. “I shouldn’t fix it. It isn’t exactly healthy, especially the gravy.”
“Once in a while won’t hurt me.”
It definitely hadn’t hurt his waistline, she thought, visualizing the six-pack abs hidden under his shirt. She nodded and started to get up. “Coffee?”
He touched her hand to stop her and she felt a sudden jolt. “I’ll get it,” he said.
Kira relented, but her hungry gaze followed Trace to the coffeemaker. He stood nearly six-feet-two-inches tall, and since she was nearly five-nine, she loved his height. Her attention moved over a Western shirt that outlined his broad shoulders and narrow waist. She loved that long, lean look, especially when he wore Wrangler jeans.
And nothing else.
Heat suddenly swarmed her body just as Trace turned around. He gave her a curious look, but remained silent as he walked back to the table. He set down the mugs and she noticed his hands. Memories flooded her head, as she recalled his firm, but gentle touches, how he stroked her, bringing her pleasure.
He took a seat across from her. “I’m glad to see you’ve taken my advice and are on the decaf.”
She sat up straighter. “I realized I need more sleep.”
“We could all use a little more of that.” His gaze locked with hers. “Though I doubt I can blame my problem on the caffeine.”
Kira swallowed hard. She wanted to explore his comment further, but couldn’t. They had another topic that needed attention. “I called Mrs. Fletcher at the agency,” she said in a rush.
Trace didn’t look surprised. “I figured you would.” He set down his mug. “What did she have to say?”
“She wants to come for another home visit the first of next week.”
Trace took a sip of coffee, then asked, “What did you tell her?”
“That I’d check with you, but Monday seemed okay for us.” Kira held her breath, waiting, praying that Trace would agree to this.
“What are we going to say to her when she gets here?”
She hesitated, feeling her heart pounding. “That we want a baby.”
Trace met Kira’s anxious gaze. He could see how much she wanted this. There had been a lot of disappointment in the past two years for both of them. She’d gone through so much, both physically and emotionally, trying to get pregnant.
His own excitement began to build. A family with Kira. Was it still possible?
He wanted to make their marriage work, but her need for a child had become an obsession, leaving no room for them. By the time he moved out, she seemed relieved he was gone. Once she got her child would she turn her attention back to them? Either way he couldn’t deny her.
“I’ll be around Monday.”
Those big brown eyes widened. “Really? Oh, Trace.”
She jumped out of her chair, threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. Trace reached for her, gripping her by the waist so they both wouldn’t topple over.
Kira ended up on his lap and when she pulled back there were tears in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He couldn’t resist, and brushed away a tear off her cheek. Seeing
