his interest.
“Not exactly,” Ben said, pulling his gaze away, refusing to look in his rearview mirror to see which direction Christine had taken. “She’s just my English professor.”
Zack frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her before.”
“She’s new to town.”
“She’s gorgeous,” Zack said, his voice appreciative. “Not that I’m noticing,” he added.
“How long ago did your wife leave?” Ben asked, glad to change the subject. Zack had told him, when Ben had stopped in at the vet’s to pick up more puppy food for Buddy, that he was having to refurnish his house after his divorce. That was when Ben had offered the use of his truck to pick up Zack’s new furniture.
“Six months.”
Using the rearview mirror, Ben surveyed the couch and chairs in the back of the truck. “You been sitting on the floor all this time?”
“I haven’t been home long enough to sit anywhere.”
Ben could understand that. After Mary had left, taking Alex with her, Ben hadn’t been able to sit still, either. Though they’d never been in any one apartment for long—Mary had always found some reason or other to be dissatisfied with what his income could provide—there’d still been Alex’s laughter bouncing off whatever walls were surrounding them.
“You seeing anyone?” Ben asked. He had no interest whatsoever in complicating his life again, but Zack seemed like a man who’d enjoy women. Tall, blond, athletic-looking, the guy probably had women following him in droves.
“Nope,” Zack said. “I’ve been too busy at the clinic. Cassie and I are initiating a national pet-therapy program in universities across the country, and I’ve been doing a lot of traveling, though not nearly as much as she has.”
“I don’t imagine there’re lots to choose from in a town this size, anyway,” Ben commented. The thought pleased him.
“Not many I’ve noticed.” Zack grinned. “But I’m not looking, either. Marriage isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I’m in no hurry to put myself through it again.”
“Know what you mean.”
“You been married?” The vet glanced over at Ben.
“Yeah.”
“How long?”
“Eight years.”
“Six, here.” Zack sent him a purely male look of commiseration. “Eight years,” he repeated. “You must have married young.”
“I was eighteen. Just finishing high school. I traded my education for a couple of dead-end jobs that allowed me to support my wife.”
Zack whistled, motioning for Ben to turn. “It’s the last house on the right,” he said. And then he added, “She must’ve been some looker to get her hooks into you that deep.”
“Yeah,” Ben said. Mary had been beautiful, but it wasn’t Mary who’d hooked him.
It was Alex.
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