Somebody's Wife: The Jackson Brothers, Book 3 (10 page)

Taylor put an arm around her shoulder. “We all get caught up in our own stuff. It’s okay. But maybe you guys need to talk before you rush into this divorce thing.”

She blotted beneath her eyes. “Ya think?” Their problems might not be fixable, but they
had
to talk. Of that much, Connie was sure.

“Yeah, I think.” Taylor put her lipstick back in the little beaded bag that matched her dress. “Now that’s all settled, I have a big favor to ask.”

“Anything.” Something to take her mind off her troubles.

“Jace took care of the champagne, but I forgot to get the strawberries. Can you just nip out for a bit, get some, then drop them off at the hotel? I want everything laid out when we get there.”

Strawberries and champagne. She and Mitch had strawberries and champagne on their wedding night. She almost started bawling all over again.

But she didn’t. This was Taylor’s day, and she’d already taken more of it than she should have.

“Sure. Don’t leave until I get back, okay?”

* * * * *

Jace sent him over to the hotel with a bottle of champagne to ice. His little brother wanted everything to be ready when the reception ended. Of course, he could have had the hotel guest services do it, but Jace said he didn’t trust them.

All right, he was entitled to be a freak on his wedding day. After all, he was married and an expectant father all in a very short period of time.

Taylor and Lou had sent a bottle of champagne to the room for his and Connie’s wedding night. Strawberries, too. Connie had loved that.

The now familiar ache closed around his chest.

She’d disappeared after going to the restroom for-freaking-ever with Taylor. He’d wanted to talk to her, tell her...what? That he’d changed his mind? That he’d rather cut off his right nut than live without her? That he’d give her a baby and live with his fears because living without her was impossible?

He didn’t know. But he hoped to God he found her once he got back to the reception.

The card key beeped him in. Man. Jace had spared no expense. A breakfast nook complete with table and chairs sat on a raised platform next to the window, in just the right spot to receive the morning sun. A leather couch and chair faced the fireplace, although at this time of year, who would want a fire? The bed was draped in a thick blue comforter with a mountain of pillows at the head.

He remembered his honeymoon suite. A dinky room with a dinky bed that was hard as a rock. They hadn’t even been able to fit in the shower together. He’d bet the bathroom in this joint had a Jacuzzi tub and a two-headed shower. All right, he and Connie had been young and without a lot of money, but he knew he’d been overly cheap. Connie had deserved better. She deserved a wedding night in a room like this, but she hadn’t complained about what she got.

The complaining started later. After he’d broken his promise about the baby.

Hell, he needed to ice the champagne and get back to the reception to find Connie. He’d asked his mom to take the kids so that he and Connie could hash this whole thing out.

Shit. Mom was taking Brian and Jamey. He’d be sticking her with all four kids. But hell, he and Connie needed to talk.

Stepping down into what constituted the living room, he reached for the ice bucket.

It sat next to the leather sofa, the ice already in it. Unmelted. A basket of strawberries lay on the coffee table next to two crystal flutes.

“What the hell?” Mitch plopped the champagne into the ice. Someone had already set the hotel staff to work.

He heard water running in the bathroom.

Holy shit. Taylor was already here, and she’d brought her own strawberries.

She probably thought he was Jace.

He hoped to hell she was dressed when she came out of that bathroom, or they’d both get the shock of their lives.

A vision in pale pink satin stepped into the hallway and his heart started racing.

“Mitch, what are you doing here?”

He held up the champagne. “And what are you doing here?”

Connie pointed to the coffee table. “Strawberries.”

The phone rang. Mitch snapped it up.

“Here’s the gig, buddy, you’ve got the champagne and the strawberries. Now start patching things up. Or I’ll send Mom over there to straighten you two out.”

“Jace. What the hell’s going on?”

He heard a little scuffle, then Taylor came on the line. “We decided that we want to start out our married life in our own bed in our home, not some silly old hotel room. So we figured you and Connie could put the room to use. No sense wasting it.”

“You can’t give us your honeymoon suite.”

“We can and we did. And Evelyn’s taking all four kids so you don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Taylor.”

“We’ve got eyes, and we know something’s not right. So you and Connie sit down and fix it, you hear.”

Then she hung up. He stared at the receiver, the dial tone loud in the room.

“They gave us their room.”

“Mitch, I didn’t get them to do this.”

“I know.”

“But I did tell Taylor we were having some...issues.”

Jesus. At least she hadn’t told Taylor they were divorcing.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

He stepped closer and put a finger over her lips. “You don’t have to explain. You were right. I broke the promise.”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say, Mitch.”

He stared at her, his heart thumping so hard it hurt.

“I was going to say that I let you down.”

“You let me down?” The idea was so preposterous, all he could do was repeat it. She’d been right in everything she said. He’d destroyed the plan they’d made when they first got married; he hadn’t trusted her not to trick him; he’d even gone so far as to stop making love to her to ease the hole growing in his gut.

“None of this was your fault, Connie.”

She shook her head. “I never listened to how hard Lou’s death hit you. It’s still eating at you.”

He thought about the hours he lay awake, all the nights in the last three years where he’d floundered, trying to think of a way to protect her and the kids. He’d had sudden, inexplicable death rammed down his throat, and he wanted to make sure Connie didn’t have to worry about a thing if something happened to him.

But something had happened to him anyway. He’d lost himself. Lost his dreams. He’d lost Connie.

“We can’t go on the way we were, Mitch.”

A fierce ache ripped through his abdomen and his head at the same time. He prayed for antacids and extra-strength aspirin. “Please don’t leave me.”

She put her hand to his cheek. “I’m not going to leave you, Mitch. I love you.”

He was dreaming. Floating in some fairy-tale land. Any minute he’d wake up and find himself asleep on the day bed in the sewing room.

“I’ve been a terrible wife.”

He opened his mouth to interrupt.

She covered his lips with her hand. “Will you please shut up long enough for me to say this or I might just forget all about it because I’m very self-oriented, you know.”

He kissed her palm. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. His soul would be ripped from him if he lost her.

Connie straightened her shoulders, her breasts straining the bodice of her dress. “Here goes. I didn’t pay attention to how badly you felt.” She shrugged, drawing his eye to her bare shoulder above the dress. “Oh sure, there were the couple of times where you cried, right after he died, and I held you, and that was so wonderful because I felt like I was doing something for you. Then we had that fight about whether or not you should go talk with someone, and I guess I just didn’t know how to deal with it all. So I gave up. And you just tucked it away inside.”

His grief had unmanned him. He’d actually been ashamed of letting her see those tears. He’d never let it happen again. Instead, he’d lain awake at night, plotting how he’d make everything safe for her future. But he’d started fighting with her more and more.
The
fight had only been the worst one.

“I didn’t pay attention. I was so caught up in what I wanted. Another baby. Like we planned. It got worse when Rina started kindergarten and the house was so empty half the day.”

“Connie.”

She stamped her foot. He almost smiled. This was his Connie, feisty as hell even when she was apologizing. Every organ in his body threatened to burst with fear and joy.

“I haven’t paid attention to you for three years, and I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”

He gathered her close, buried his face in her hair, breathing her sweet woman scent. “I forgive you,” he whispered.

“But I still want another baby, Mitch.”

His heart stuttered, then stopped completely. And he knew this was the moment. He either reclaimed the dream, went on with his life, or lost everything. She’d said she wouldn’t leave him, but whether she stayed or she went, he was the one killing himself slowly with worry and anxiety.

He was speechless with hope, overcome by fear.

Connie pulled back, framed his face in her hands and searched his gaze. “I don’t want to give up our dream.”

He seemed incapable of saying anything.

She shook her head sadly. Poor, poor Mitch. “You don’t get it. I’m not leaving. I’m fighting for what I want. Marriage to you. Beautiful, wonderful sex like we had last week. A big family which is what we always wanted. I want our house and our lives filled with our children. I want us to come to some agreement that satisfies us both.”

Still, nothing from her husband.

It sounded silly even to her. There were only two choices. They either had another child or they didn’t. It
was
black or white. Hadn’t she said that to Taylor only a few short months ago? But black and white didn’t mean a marriage had to end. “I’ll help you understand my point of view if you help me understand yours. Somehow, we’ll work it out. I know we can together.” She touched her lips lightly to his. “Please don’t leave me, either, Mitch. Please help me.”

He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead to hers. His breath bathed her cheek. She would die without him. For years she’d taken what they shared for granted never realizing how fragile love really was. She’d never forget that again.

“I’ve forgotten how to live, Connie.” He held her tight, and his body shook. “I’ve been so damn scared of dying and leaving you destitute, of leaving the kids, that I destroyed all the good things we had.”

She pushed back, cupping his face once more in her hands. “I pray to God you will be here for us, but I’m not a child, Mitch. I can take care of myself and the kids with or without you. I can do whatever’s necessary.”

“I know. It’s just another disservice I did you. Forgive me?” He whispered the final question.

“Of course, I do.”

He held her, squeezed her until her ribs felt as if they’d crack, but it was so unbelievably good. She clung to him, wrapping her arms as far as they would go.

Mitch reveled in her for a full minute, a moment in time in which he realized what he had to do, what he
wanted
to do.

“I want another baby, Connie. I want our dream.” Jace was right. They would make it through. Their dreams were worth the sacrifice. God, he’d almost thrown away everything he and Connie had planned and dreamed and wished for. He’d almost lost
her
to his fears. Life wouldn’t be worth living without her.

She leaned back, staring at him, shifting her gaze from eye to eye. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“I’m saying I won’t let my fears crush our dreams. Those were my dreams, too, not just yours.” He cupped her chin in his palm. “But I’m not sure I’ll ever stop worrying completely. Can you live with that?”

“Do you mean it in your heart, Mitch? No regrets later?”

“No regrets. I want another baby with you, Connie. More than anything else. I want to let go of my fears and watch you grow with our child.”

“Oh, Mitchie, I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

She pulled back and cocked her head. “Do I still have to shop at three grocery stores so I get all the best specials?”

“Yes.”

“What about the washing machine?”

“I’ll fix it. After all, I fixed the sink.”

She bit her lip. “That’s okay. Can I have a new car?”

He almost smiled. “Something used. You don’t need all the new bells and whistles.”

“Speaking of bells and whistles, what about sex toys? I saw this really cool—”

He slapped his hand over her mouth. “Don’t tell me. Make it a surprise.”

“So I can spend the money?”

“Better yet, you can use the handcuffs on me.”

“Oh, Mitchie.”

“Let’s make a baby,” he whispered.

“Now?”

“Yeah. Remember that scene in
The Godfather
where Sonny did the bridesmaid up against the door?” Connie had rewound to that spot several times.

“I remember. It made me hot.”

“Well, let’s pretend.” Then he hauled her up his body, pulled her legs around his waist, tore her panties, and carried her to the door.

“Do you think someone will hear us out in the hall?”

“Only if you scream like when I put the cuffs on you.”

He fumbled with the zipper on his tux slacks, hoisted her higher against the door, then thrust hard and deep inside her.

“Oh, Mitchie.”

“Oh, baby.”

Life would never be perfect. There would always be bills and new cars and washing machines that needed replacing. But as long as he had Connie, he’d weather it all just fine.

Epilogue

Evelyn sat on a deck chair in her backyard and watched her boys and their wives, her grandchildren and her husband. And Randi. Evelyn had a good feeling that soon she’d get to plan another wedding. That boy of hers couldn’t keep his hands off Randi. Touchy-feely was a good thing. Kept a marriage healthy. Heavens, it had kept Evelyn’s marriage healthy.

Jace and Taylor had one night on their own, then rushed to the family barbecue, their first as a married couple. She’d made a lovely bride, both times, but she simply glowed with Jace by her side, the two boys running around, playing Cowboys and Indians. Yes, despite the advent of aliens, space invaders, the Internet and video games, Cowboys and Indians had never truly lost their universal appeal.