my own priorities. And right now, I intend to get something hot into you.” He headed off to the kitchen before she could even think about responding to what sounded like a double entendre. If she had never been married to him, she might have blushed.
“Do you still take cream?” he called from the kitchen.
“Yes!” she called back. “But I don’t have any!”
“What about sugar?”
“No sugar!”
“Where’s the coffeemaker?”
“There isn’t one! Make instant!”
“Where are the mugs?”
“In the cabinet next to the sink!”
Good grief, she thought, if he calls out one more time, I’m getting off this couch and taking over. She smiled to herself. He’d always been such a klutz in the kitchen. Like the time she’d been confined to bed with the flu and he’d insisted on making dinner. At first she’d protested, saying she couldn’t eat a thing, and that he should order a pizza for himself. No, he was going to take care of her, he said. A half hour later he returned to the bedroom, carrying a bowl filled with what looked suspiciously like canned soup. “Ta-da!” his voice rang out. The next morning when she ventured into the kitchen, she found pots and pans, bowls and dishes, knives, forks and spoons all over counter, in the sink and on the stove.
In spite of being sick, in spite of having to clean up the mess, she’d seen this as one of the good times. It was one of those rare times when he’d been there for her. And here he was again, fussing about in the kitchen, when she was feeling under the weather.
Here he was again, telling her what to do.
The phone rang on the side table next to the sofa. “Don’t move!” he called from the kitchen. “I’ll get it!”
“No, I’ve got it!… Edward! How are you?… I don’t know, at least another few days, maybe a week…. I have three weeks’ vacation, remember? Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time for a honeymoon. My vacation time starts all over in January…. What do you mean I’m a bum! You’re just jealous because you can’t take that much time off, as if you could tear yourself away from your practice for even a week…. Look, I’m a little busy at the moment. Why don’t I call you tonight?… Yes, the meeting with the lawyer, and afterward, lunch with Cassandra…. No, I haven’t forgotten the hospital dinner next Saturday. I’ll be back before then, Friday at the latest…. Yes, I know it’s a whole week away, but you’ll just have to survive without me for a little while longer. I’ve got to go now, darling. I’ll talk to you later.” She hung up the phone.
“The guy in the picture, I presume,” Jake said formally, standing under the archway. He was carrying a tray with two cups of black coffee. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
“And I presume you didn’t mean to snoop, either,” she replied tersely. “What were you doing, snooping around in my bedroom? You had no right to go in there.”
“I was looking for your body,” he answered dryly. He set the tray onto the coffee table, next to the sketchbook. “It’s ready, darling. But there was no cream, darling. You’ll have to take it black, darling. Where do you think you are? In a 1940s movie? When did Cassie become Cassandra?”
Good grief, he was acting like a jealous lover. It was almost comical—and ironic. He had always been so sure of her; it had never been the other way around.
He sat down beside her. “Look, I was worried about you. I thought you’d been hurt. But you’re right, I shouldn’t have snooped. And I’m glad you’ve found someone, really I am. It’s time you got on with your life. It’s time you forgave yourself.”
A warning bell went off in her head. “Excuse me?”
He held out his hand as if to ward her off. “Hear me out. I’m trying to bury the hatchet.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Go on…”
“Sometimes when I think about the past, I still get angry. I know it’ll take me a while before I can get to where you are now, but I want you to know, I forgive you.”
Their three years together came hurtling back, resurrecting resentment. “You forgive me? Just who do you think you are? If you got down on your hands and knees, I wouldn’t forgive you.” She took a deep, slow breath. “Tell me something, were we ever really married? Where were you all that time? I don’t mean physically. You were always there physically, that is, when you weren’t working—which was most of the time. But when you were home, it was as if you were looking right through me. The only time I ever had your attention was when you were telling me what to do and how to run my life.”
His gaze slid from her face, downward. “You have my attention now,” he replied, his eyes raking her boldly. “My full attention.”
Laura knew that there was something about her when she got angry, something that either sent his libido into overdrive or made him want to throttle her. His libido, so it seemed, had won.
He reached across the couch, encircling her with his arms. Every instinct told her to push him away, every nerve in her body screaming, Run, Laura, run! She let out a gasp as he pressed his mouth on her throat, his breath warm and moist on her skin, his scent reminding her of timber and grass. “Jake, no,” she whispered into the air, not sure if she’d even said the words aloud. He ran his tongue along the side of her neck, up to the coil of her ear, sending little shivers down her spine. Her pulse throbbed wildly.
She jerked herself free. “I said no.”
“Could have fooled me.” His voice was dripping with mockery. “Like I said, some things in life don’t change.”
In an instant she was on her feet, her face hot with humiliation. She wanted to lash out, yell, throw something. On his lips he wore that awful, smug smile, but it was his cool, knowing eyes that sobered her. “In case you haven’t noticed,” she spoke in a dull, flat voice, “I’m not your plaything anymore. That’s all you ever wanted, anyway. A plaything for you, and a nanny for Cory. Poor, sweet Cory. I wish he had been mine. I wish to God I could have taken him with me. Not that you would have noticed.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Something in her snapped. Words she’d kept locked up for years started pouring out in a furious torrent, and she couldn’t have stopped them if she’d tried. “Tell me something, did you ever really see him? Did you ever really see me? Well, I’ve got news for you. Some things do change. I have a full life now, which includes an attentive, caring man who knows I exist. And let me tell you something else, Mr. Macho, you made the same mistake with Cyn you made with me.”
“Be careful, Laura….”
She ignored his warning and continued her tirade. “Did she ever tell you she gave up going to college to become your wife? Ever since we were kids, she’d wanted to study design. Do you have any idea of the sacrifice she made? And speaking of Cynthia, it would have been nice if once in a blue moon, you hadn’t taken her to bed with us. I’m not talking about sex, lover-boy. Get your mind out of the gutter. I just wish that you had remembered it was me you were sleeping next to. Just once I wish you had known I was even there.”
Afraid her
