Somebody's Wife: The Jackson Brothers, Book 3 (8 page)

She sighed, a heavy, exhausted sound. “Cuddle me to sleep?”

It wasn’t long past nine, but he was bone weary. Bodily sated. He pulled back the sheet, helped her crawl beneath, then climbed in and pulled her flush against his body. She was warm, pliable, and scented with loving.

“Thank you, honey.” She said the words on no more than a sigh, then her breathing slowed and her body relaxed into his.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he whispered. “It’s what I should have been doing all along.” Making sure she felt loved and wanted and needed.

He just didn’t know how he was going to keep her safe and satisfied at the same time. He didn’t know how he was going to keep her happy without worrying himself into an early grave.

* * * * *

Connie rolled over in bed, stretching her muscles. She ached pleasantly, feeling every creak and groan. Oh, oh, that was wonderful. Without opening her eyes, she wriggled deliciously, then flopped over onto her stomach.

Mitch was gone, but she smelled him on the sheets, smelled their sex, smelled them together. She squinted at the clock on the other side of the bed. Three. Middle of the night. Yet she felt energized. She was ready to have him again. Her husband, her loving, wonderful husband.

Tossing aside the sheet, she rolled off the bed, then padded naked to the bathroom. A thin sliver of light shone through the crack in the open door.

“Ho-ney,” she sing-songed as she pushed open the door. “I’m rea-dy. I think we should use the handcuffs on you this time.”

He jerked, dropped something to the bath mat, then stared at it as if he were Rina caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Then she saw what he’d been holding. Her birth control pills. The container had landed face up, the lid open.

“What are you doing with my pills?”

He bent to pick them up, held them without snapping the lid shut. He didn’t stammer out an explanation. He just stared at her, not saying a word.

“You were checking up on me, weren’t you?”

He still didn’t open his mouth.

“You don’t trust me. You want to make sure I’m taking them when I say I’m taking them.” Her voice rose with each word, the deep lassitude of their lovemaking vanishing as if she’d never experienced it.

“Sometimes you forget. You admitted that.”

“How can I forget with you asking me every ten minutes?” The screech hurt her throat.

“I only asked once.”

She glared at him. “How long have you been checking?”

“Just today.” He licked his lips. “And yesterday.”

She grabbed her robe from the back of the door because she couldn’t stand being naked in front of him. “You bastard. You think I lied.”

“No, not lied.”

“Fuck you, Mitch.”

“Connie.”

She’d shocked him with the curse word, and she didn’t give a damn. She’d given him the benefit of the doubt the other day, telling herself he trusted her. But here was proof he didn’t. He
was
checking up on her. She did everything he asked, watched every penny she spent, every penny he earned, and it wasn’t good enough for him. She was so angry, she couldn’t even sort out her thoughts.

Except one. Suddenly...certainly, it was there.

“You don’t intend to have another baby, do you? You’ve just been stringing me along for as long as you could.”

“Connie, I—”

“Tell me the truth,” she shouted, stretched past a limit she didn’t know she had.

“I just don’t think it’s the right time.” He stared at her with bleak, brown eyes.

“You never do, but you promised. That’s what we promised each other.”

“We made that promise when we were younger, more naïve.”

“You changed your mind, and you didn’t tell me. You’ve been lying to me and checking up on me.”

“That’s not what I was doing.”

She looked pointedly at the pills in his hand. “You think I’d trick you into having a baby. You think I’d miss taking a pill on purpose. How could you do that to me, Mitch?”

They were supposed to love each other. How could he touch her the way he had tonight, then sneak into the bathroom and check to make sure she hadn’t lied?

Mitch didn’t say anything.

She crossed her arms over her abdomen. “I don’t know you anymore, Mitch. We had plans. We had trust. Now all you do is bitch and moan about money. It’s the only thing that’s important to you. How many dollars you have in the bank. What about your family? What about Rina and Peter?”

The calmness in Connie’s voice belied the angry glitter in her eyes. Yet there was more. Lines of sorrow etched her mouth. The saddened tilt of her head. The way she pulled her lower lip between her teeth, biting down as if to stem the tears sparkling in her eyes. She broke his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He wanted so badly to grab a towel, something to cover himself with, anything. More than just his body lay bare before her. So did his soul.

“That’s not good enough.” She pulled her robe tightly closed at the throat. “Answer the question.”

He didn’t pretend he didn’t know what question lay between them. “Connie, please, let’s talk about this.” His life was shattering at his feet yet he clung to the small hope that he could talk his way out of it.

“I’m done talking. That’s all we’ve done since Rina turned three and we were supposed to start on the next baby. You need to be honest. Are you giving up our dreams of a big family?”

They stared at each other for long moments. He could see the ultimatum in her eyes, feel it in his heart. His life with Connie flashed before his eyes, laughter, passion, joy at watching his babies grow in her belly. Her arms around him the night after Lou died. He’d cried. She’d loved and soothed him even as his meltdown shamed him. And finally, these last three years, the growing anger and dissatisfaction. His growing fears consuming him until that’s all that existed for him.

He wanted her. He needed her. “I love you, baby.”

She continued to stare in stony silence, her knuckles clenched white.

She could be his if he said yes. They could stop fighting. She’d be happy, but they could never return to what they once had. A man’s fear did terrible things. It ate him up inside. It twisted his feelings. One day he might end up resenting her for forcing his hand. Eventually, he might even hate her.

It was easier to have
her
hate
him
.

So he said it, uttered the only thing he could. “I don’t want another child.”

The words rang in his head like a death knell, sealing the fate on their marriage and their love.

Chapter Seven

She wanted to cry, scream, rant, rave, demand. She wanted to hit him, kick him, bite him. Anything to get rid of this hot knot of anger and pain strangling her. How could he do this to her? Why? The line between love and hate was indeed thin, and right now, she’d fallen off the line right into the hate side.

But Connie didn’t do any of the things she thought about. Instead, she let her gaze ride his naked body with as much disdain as she could muster.

“Tonight I’m sleeping in Peter’s bed. Tomorrow I’ll clean up the sewing room and you can start sleeping on the day bed.”

“Connie, please let’s—”

She held up a hand. “You’ve made your bed, now lie in it.”

She’d made her own bed, too. “We’ll talk about divorce after Taylor and Jace’s wedding. There’s too much to do right now for me to even think about it.”

Then she turned and left him standing naked in the bathroom. In Peter’s room, she fell asleep without a single tear. She was too angry for tears. She’d do all her crying after the wedding. After she decided whether she’d divorce him or stay with him for the kids’ sake.

Whatever she ended up doing, the love, happiness, and passion of the last two days was gone forever.

* * * * *

That was the problem with ultimatums. You made them thinking you were going to get the answer you wanted.

In those few moments Mitch stared silently, Connie had vindicating visions of him on his knees, begging her forgiveness, then throwing her birth control pills down the toilet.

A week later, she still couldn’t quite believe he hadn’t done just that. She wouldn’t think about that now. She’d concentrate on her anger. All the bad things started with Lou’s death. But Mitch had had three years to work it out. She’d offered solace, he hadn’t accepted it. Instead, he lied, he broke his promises, and he didn’t trust her. Even just one of those transgressions would kill any marriage.

A vice tightened around her heart.

“Connie, you’re messing up the roses.”

Evelyn’s voice brought her back to the moment. Connie stared down at the red splatter on the white icing.

“Sorry.” She was a good cake decorator, and she wanted to make the cake perfect for Taylor’s wedding. But it looked more like a Rorschach paint splatter than a rose. She scooped off the splotch, smoothed the layer of frosting, then started again.

Evelyn was putting the finishing touches on the last batch of appetizers. They’d been cooking for a week now. But today, the day before the wedding, Taylor was absent. She couldn’t see the cake. That would be bad luck. She was at home finishing the lasagnas. The food wasn’t gourmet, but it was inexpensive and good. Taylor made the absolute best lasagna. Even the newcomer, Randi, had her assignment. She said she couldn’t cook, so they had her cut up the cheese for crackers and the vegetables for dipping. There was something comforting about the camaraderie of the Jackson womenfolk getting everything ready. At least it would have been serene if Mitch hadn’t torn her heart out.

“I’ve never known anyone that can make a wedding cake look so pretty.” Randi sucked at her finger where she’d accidentally nicked herself with the knife.

“It’s easy,” Connie said. “A steady hand and a careful eye.” Which is why she’d muffed the rose. She wasn’t steady, and she wasn’t being careful. A broken heart wreaked havoc on cake decoration.

With the last of the sausage rolls in the oven—they’d reheat them in the oven at the hall—Evelyn stood by the freezer door.

“Heaven above, I forgot to get the spinach for the dip.”

“I’ll go get it,” Randi offered.

Evelyn flapped a hand. “No, no, you finish chopping the veggies, then start on cubing the French bread. It won’t take me more than a few minutes.”

The kitchen was silent once more as Evelyn’s car roared away.

“Connie, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

Randi was almost family, or she soon would be if the way David looked at her meant anything. Connie figured the girl had the right to ask whatever she wanted. As long as it wasn’t about Mitch and the awkward state of their marriage.

Could she really leave him? Or was it a threat to get him to toe the line? Connie wasn’t sure. The only thing she did know with any amount of certainty was that life without Mitch would lose its joy, except for the kids.

“David told me about Lou. And I don’t want to say the wrong thing. He said I couldn’t possibly say the wrong thing, that after three years, all of you had worked out your issues over Lou’s passing.” Randi dipped her blond head, concentrating on bite-sizing the cauliflower. “I really don’t want to upset Evelyn or Taylor by making some stupid remark tomorrow.”

Connie smiled, trying her best to bury her own inner turmoil. Yep, this girl was meant for David, sweet and caring and worried about other people’s feelings.

“I have to admit that things were a bit dicey for a while.” She started another rose. “Gosh, even as recently as a couple of months when Taylor and Jace first started...” She hesitated. How did one describe what Taylor and Jace had started doing? “When they started dating.” Which wasn’t really correct because they’d never dated. They started sleeping together. Well, not sleeping. She sighed. “David was a little upset about the whole thing.”

Randi laughed. “The way David tells it, he went ballistic and said a lot of really hurtful things.”

Connie raised a brow. David had come a long way if he was admitting that aloud. But then, he’d been a different man since meeting Randi. He’d lost that somber, angry façade he’d worn since Lou died.

“You
could
say he was upset.” Freaked and ballistic described it, though Connie hadn’t actually witnessed the event, only heard about it from Evelyn. “But you know, that seemed to fix everything for everyone.” She shrugged. “Well, not fix exactly. But it was like the turning point where everyone could finally put him to rest and move on, if you know what I mean.” Except for Mitch.

“Oh. That’s good to hear. David seemed to think Mitch was still having problems, what with popping all those antacids and downing heavy-duty aspirin like it was candy.”

Connie just stared at her, the icing tube still in her hand. “He’s a worry wart. He’s always been like that.”

“Oh.” Randi sliced another carrot. “David seemed to think it had gotten a lot worse lately.”

David. He’d been telling everyone how they’d screwed up since Lou died. Where did he get off talking about them to Randi? Connie sucked in a breath, willing herself to calm down.

“I’m sorry, Connie. This isn’t any of my business. I really just wanted to ask your advice to make sure I didn’t say the wrong thing. And now I’ve said the wrong thing.”

“It’s all right.” But nothing was right. Mitch had always managed their money closely, but after Lou died, he’d gotten downright maniacal about her spending. A few times, she’d risen in the night to find him sitting at the kitchen table pouring over bills and statements. Antacids and extra-strength aspirin had become a regular on the grocery list. That’s when he’d started squawking about not being ready for another baby, too.

And she’d answered his fears with anger.

“I’m glad everything’s better. It was a terrible tragedy. I don’t have any brothers or sisters, but I can imagine how that would devastate a family, especially the way it happened. But
your
family,” Randi spread her hands, “well, I’m totally amazed at how you’ve all helped each other through the grief. Most families would have fallen apart. But you guys”—she shrugged helplessly, as if she couldn’t find the right words—“wow.”