“Oh, Jack,” she sighed, gazing warmly at him.
“Yeah,” he said, “I signed a five-year contract and these people are real sticklers when it comes to contracts.”
“Jack!”
He enjoyed her indignant expression, all the while admitting that he wasn’t the romantic sort. He loved Olivia Lockhart, though. Perhaps he should try harder to say the right things, but he didn’t have much practice in flowery language. If she wanted to hear that kind of nonsense, her ex-husband was probably an expert.
Thinking about Stan Lockhart was a mistake. Jack gritted his teeth. Stan irritated him with his pompous assumption that he could have Olivia back anytime he wanted. He made sure Jack knew it, too.
“Let’s order,” he said in an effort to turn his thoughts to some other subject. As he reached for the menu, he reminded himself that he was the one spending the evening with Olivia, not her ex.
“I’m starving,” Olivia said happily.
Jack glanced over the specials and decided on the T-bone steak. Olivia vacillated between the scallops on the list of specials and the prime rib. In the end she decided on the scallops.
“Mom said you took her to lunch,” Olivia said when their salad with shrimp piled atop Bibb lettuce was delivered by their efficient and unobtrusive waiter.
So Olivia knew about that. Drilling her mother over Olivia’s involvement with Stan hadn’t been one of Jack’s finer moments. His excuse was that not knowing was driving him to distraction.
What he’d learned had depressed him for days. Stan Lockhart was still making a hard play to win back his ex-wife. He had a lot going for him, too. Not only was he financially secure, cultured and sophisticated, but he had a shared history with Olivia and was the father of her children.
The first thing Charlotte had told him was that Stan and Olivia had spent New Year’s Eve together. Charlotte had minimized the fact by explaining that they’d both been watching Leif so Justine and Seth could go to The Lighthouse. Still, it rankled. He could bet that when the clock struck midnight, ol’ Stan was right there with the champagne and the music, ready to give Olivia a lip-lock she wouldn’t soon forget. Jack’s jaw flexed with anger at the thought of Stan so much as touching her.
In addition, Charlotte had let it drop that Stan occasionally stayed the night in Cedar Cove. From personal experience, Jack knew he’d slept at the house on Lighthouse Road at least once. He also knew Stan had spent the night in the guest bedroom, although Stan had let Jack assume otherwise. Now he had to wonder if Stan continued to sleep over at Olivia’s.
The truth was, Jack didn’t want to know. He refused to allow Stan to drive a wedge between him and Olivia. Jack had made the mistake of letting that happen once, and as far as he was concerned, history wouldn’t be repeating itself. He was willing to fight for Olivia, dammit. He wasn’t going to step aside—and he wanted to make that very clear—to Olivia and her ex-husband.
“Jack?” Olivia was giving him an odd look.
“Sorry. Did you say something?” He focused his attention on her and realized Stan had nearly gotten him a second time. Without even trying, Olivia’s ex was ruining this night out.
“Did I tell you how lovely you look?” he asked.
“No, you didn’t,” Olivia told him, and propped her elbows on the table. “But I can’t wait to hear.”
Grace Sherman stared at the computer screen and held her breath. Excitement shot through her. New Orleans! Will wanted to meet her in New Orleans. He was traveling to Louisiana on business and had asked her to join him.
New Orleans was one of the most romantic cities in the world, and the thought of being there with Will sent her heart spinning. She imagined strolling down Bourbon Street, listening to jazz musicians with Will at her side. He’d mentioned a gambling trip down the Mississippi on a riverboat, and touring historic plantations.
“I don’t know,” she typed back. She felt as nervous as she was excited.
“We should talk, and not like this. The things I want to say should be said face-to-face.” His reply was instantaneous. “I need you, Grace. You’re all I think about.”
They no longer hid their feelings from each other. Grace loved Will; it was that simple. She wanted to be with him—not just for a weekend, but forever.
Still, she lived in Cedar Cove and was employed by the town. “It’s hard for me to get time away from the library without several weeks’ notice,” she typed.
“Ask now. I’ll send you a plane ticket.”
Grace closed her eyes. The way she felt about Will, and the way he seemed to feel about her, would make it impossible for them to resist each other sexually. For weeks she’d dreamed of what it would be like. She’d created an entire fantasy about living with Will as husband and wife. For the first time in her adult life, she’d know what it was to be with a man who loved her completely. Who cherished her…
Dan had loved her; she didn’t doubt his deep affection, but he’d had so little to give her. He’d struggled with such grief and guilt and misery, it was all he could do to get from one day to the next. There’d been almost no room for tenderness and joy in his life. Grace desperately needed both.
And Cliff—he was a friend. Their relationship had been about companionship more than love, at least on her part.
Now she finally had the opportunity to know real love.
There was a problem, however, and to Grace, it was a major one.
Will was married.
“What about your wife?” she typed back. She couldn’t promise to meet him, couldn’t allow this relationship to continue if he remained committed to his marriage.
“I told you it was over,” Will typed.
“Georgia’s moved out?”
“Yes. I’ve already seen an attorney. The divorce is amicable. We should never have married. She understands.”
“She knows about us?” Grace’s fingers flew over the keys.
“I told her there was someone else. I didn’t say who it is.”
Grace had kept her relationship with Will a secret, too. They spoke via e-mail every day, often more than once, and occasionally they managed a phone call. It never ceased to astonish her how much they had to talk about.
The doorbell chimed and Grace glanced irritably over her shoulder. Buttercup ambled to the door, tail wagging.
“Say you’ll meet me,” Will urged, the words flashing across the screen. “I need to know as soon as possible. Promise me you’ll do everything you can.”
“I will, I promise,” Grace assured him, and with regret, dragged herself away from the computer when the bell rang a second time. Determined to get rid of whoever was there, she opened her door and stared at Cliff. She had to make an effort not to groan aloud.
“Cliff,”
