My Way Back to You. Pamela Hearon

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СКАЧАТЬ to be enticing. Her hair was tucked behind her ears and hefty diamond studs winked at him in the light of the candles on the table.

      He wondered if they had been a present from Zeke, which sent a pang of guilt through him. He needed to address that issue. The sooner the better.

      “Thanks.” She shrugged, her fork paused in midair. “I threw it in at the last minute. I’m always afraid of not packing something a little dressy. This one’s great because the knit doesn’t wrinkle.”

      Not to mention how it fit those curves.

      She took another bite of her gnocchi with wild boar ragù, and his eyes were drawn once again to the full, luscious lips that closed around the fork.

      A jolt of stiffness in his groin had him shifting in his seat. He took a drink of wine to ease the discomfort. It didn’t help much, but, combined with the Crown Royal he’d had before dinner, he found the liquid courage he needed to make the apology he’d been wanting to deliver personally for a long time.

      “Mags.” He set the glass down and something about his manner must have clued her in. She rested her fork on her plate. “I wanted to apologize for not being there—”

      She adjusted her napkin in her lap. “It couldn’t be helped, Jeff. Russ understood. We all understood. A ruptured appendix? You could’ve died.”

      “Well, yeah, missing his graduation totally sucked,” he agreed. The subject would always be a sore one for him. “But that’s not what I’m apologizing for. I want to tell you how sorry I am I didn’t come to Zeke’s funeral.”

      “Oh...that.” Her voice went small, and she bypassed her wineglass to grab a sip of water.

      “I talked myself out of it...thinking about the awkwardness of being there with all your family. But I should’ve been there for Russ.” He reached across the table and laid his hand on top of hers. “I was a coward, and I’m sorry.”

      He felt her hand tremble before she eased it from under his and rested it in her lap. “It’s okay. Really. Having Russ come out and spend that next week with you was smart. It got him away from...from my grief for a little while. It was the best thing for him.”

      “Zeke must’ve been a great guy,” he continued. “Russ was sure crazy about him.”

      Her chin quivered, and he could see the glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes. “Yes, he was...crazy about him.” She drew a long breath, her breasts swelling, pushing tight against the neckline of her dress. “Russ seemed fond of Jennifer, too.” She pointedly dropped the subject of her deceased husband. “He thought she might be the one for you.”

       Jennifer.

      Just the thought of the woman caused Jeff’s teeth to clench.

      “Hardly,” he answered.

      Maggie raised an eyebrow in unspoken question, giving him the opportunity to go on or not. “Jennifer was the jealous type,” he answered, and took a sip of his wine to get rid of the bad taste talking about the woman left in his mouth.

      Maggie gave him a cool look, her mouth drawing into a smirk. “I’ve found it’s usually the man who gives the woman a reason to be jealous.”

      A flare of irritation burned in Jeff’s stomach. “Maybe.” He nodded and shot her a defiant glare. “Yeah, you’re absolutely right. It was my fault, but I don’t give a rat’s ass. She was jealous of Russ.”

      Her face sobered. “Oh. Sorry.”

      “She didn’t want our summers ‘taken up by him.’” He emphasized Jennifer’s phrasing by making quotation marks in the air with his fingers. “Or our Christmases. She decided a two-week visit every other year would be more than sufficient. Can you imagine?”

      “No, I can’t.” Maggie finally took another bite of her food, though with decidedly less enthusiasm than before.

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get us off on a bad subject. We were having a good time before we started talking about all this. And it sounds like you do a much better job than I do at picking significant others.”

      He’d meant to lighten the conversation with his self-criticism, but, to his horror, Maggie’s chin quivered again. And then a tear slid down her cheek...followed by another...and another.

      “Damn, Mags. I’m sorry. I should’ve realized it would still be difficult for you to talk about Zeke. It’s only been...what? Three years? Let’s just drop it. How’s your gnocchi? Good?”

      He was aware he was just talking to hear his head rattle at this point and not helping a damn thing. Maggie’s tears were coming harder and faster, though thankfully, silently. The tip of her nose brightened to hot pink.

      “Can I pour you some more wine?” he offered, lamely, and then convinced himself to shut his damn mouth before he made things any worse.

      Like things could be any worse.

      Maggie’s body shook with the effort to bring her tears under control, and he sat and watched, helplessly shamed into silence.

      When, at last, she could speak, she looked at him and shook her head. “Zeke wasn’t a great guy, Jeff. He wasn’t like everybody thought he was.” Pain flashed from the gorgeous green irises now rimmed in red. “Marrying him was the biggest mistake of my life.”

CHAPTER THREE

      MIXING LIQUOR AND the emotional roller coaster she was on today had been a major mistake. Maggie regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth.

      “Did the bastard abuse you?” Jeff’s grip on his wineglass visibly tightened.

      “No.” She rubbed the area over her right eyebrow where a rhythmic throb pulsated. Why had she brought this up now? “Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

      “But you did.” His mouth and eyes narrowed with insistence. “Now you have to finish.”

      “I’ve never told anyone. Not even Mom.”

      “I don’t know what this deep, dark secret is.” Jeff reached across the table, and this time he didn’t just lay his hand on top of hers. He grasped it and held on firmly. “My son was in that environment. I have a right to know what went on.”

      “It wasn’t anything that ever happened around Russ.” She tried for an assuring tone, but his touch caused the breath she’d almost gotten under control to quiver erratically again. “You surely can’t believe I would ever allow anyone to lay a hand on him.”

      “For God’s sake, Mags, tell me what we’re discussing here.” His grip became a near-squeeze.

      If she’d used her napkin as a gag, which she now wished she had, her mouth couldn’t have gone any drier. A sip of water helped lubricate the passage of the words she’d swallowed so many times. “The last week Zeke was alive...two days before he went into the coma...he told me he’d been having an affair for quite some time. Five of the six years we’d been married.”

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