Ultimate Cedar Cove Collection. Debbie Macomber

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ asked. D.D.’ s was only a couple of blocks away, but Warren usually preferred to drive.

      “Sure,” he said. He was making a real effort to be accommodating. He stopped himself from taking her hand, she noticed, and was grateful. She’d actually missed Warren. Yes, he had his faults, but he could be a good conversationalist and had a sharp mind. There was a history between them, too, a history that had more to do with friendship than romance. In his own way he loved her and she cared for him, too, although not with the same intensity she did Seth. With her husband, the attraction was physical and powerful, but in the few days they’d spent together before he left for Alaska there hadn’t been time for much conversation. Their intense hunger for each other had overwhelmed them both. Justine didn’t need words to know how Seth felt. His lovemaking proved it again and again.

      That weekend seemed like a dream now, and she wondered if what they’d discovered could possibly be real.

      At the restaurant, Warren and Justine were seated outside. The patio wouldn’t be open much longer. Already autumn was in the air, but Warren chose to dine alfresco instead of at a table inside, knowing she enjoyed the sunshine.

      “I hope we can still be friends,” Warren said, smiling as the waitress handed them menus.

      “That would be nice.” She told herself again that lunch every now and then wouldn’t bother her husband. Seth wasn’t the jealous type and for that matter, neither was she.

      Justine and Warren had a common interest in the financial world, so there was plenty to discuss. Their conversation over lunch went smoothly and the ache in Justine’s heart had lessened by the time they finished. She still missed Seth dreadfully, but didn’t feel nearly as alone and lost as she had earlier in the day. Warren hadn’t asked to see her again, hadn’t pressured her at all. After lunch they said farewell outside the bank, she thanked him for the meal and he left.

      Later that afternoon, as she drove toward her apartment, Justine’s spirits were high, higher than they’d been all week. But when she approached the row of mailboxes outside her building complex, she hesitated, afraid to find out if there was a letter from Seth.

      She needed to be reassured of his love because her greatest fear was that he regretted their sudden marriage. Her heart pounded as she unlocked the box and slid out the mail.

      No letter.

      She sorted through the advertisements, junk mail and two bills a second time, just to be sure. Another Friday night alone in front of the television, she thought. She could phone her mother, but Olivia had been dating Jack Griffin from The Cedar Cove Chronicle and was probably busy, anyway. Feeling defeated, Justine walked into her apartment and tossed her mail on the kitchen counter, kicking off her heels.

      A few weeks ago, she would’ve relished a Friday night to herself. Warren almost always had plans for them. But all of that was irrelevant now, and feeling sorry for herself didn’t serve any useful purpose. If she missed Seth, then she should do something that would make her feel close to him.

      His sailboat came immediately to mind. The Silver Belle was moored at the marina and Seth had given her the key. When he wasn’t fishing in Alaska he lived aboard the vessel. Or at least he had until their marriage. They hadn’t even talked about where they’d live when he got back…. That could wait, but right now, she needed the comfort of being in his home, among his things. If she spent the night there, she could wrap herself in his blanket, sleep in his clothes, breathe in his scent. She’d slept there several times and always felt better.

      Pleased with the idea, Justine changed out of her business suit and into jeans and a sweatshirt. She collected a novel, a new CD for her Walkman and fresh clothes for the morning. She’d pick up dinner on the way to the marina.

      She’d just reached the parking lot when she realized she’d left her cell phone behind. If Seth phoned, he’d call that number. Heading back to the apartment, she unlocked the door and opened it to hear the muted peal of her phone. She lurched for it, pushing the talk button with a sense of urgency.

      “Hello, hello!” she shouted. “Seth? Seth, is that you?”

      Only a dial tone greeted her question. Quickly she checked Caller ID—the number was unfamiliar, although prefaced by 907, the Alaska area code. She punched it in, letting the phone ring ten times before finally giving up.

      Grinding her teeth with frustration, Justine sagged onto the edge of the sofa and rammed her fingers through her hair. It was Seth; it had to be. He must’ve called her from a pay phone on the wharf.

      One minute away from her phone and she’d missed talking to her husband.

      “I’m home.” Zach Cox let himself in the back door off the garage and stepped into the kitchen. His jaw tightened at the mess that greeted him. The sink was piled high with breakfast dishes, and the milk from this morning’s cereal was still on the countertop.

      “Who left out the milk?” he demanded.

      His two children—conveniently—didn’t hear him. Fifteen-year-old Allison was sitting at the computer in their home office, cruising the Internet, and Eddie, who was nine, lay prone on the family-room carpet in front of some mindless television program.

      “Where’s Mom?” he asked next, standing directly over his son.

      Eddie lifted one arm and pointed wordlessly toward the sewing room.

      Zach ambled in that direction on his way to the bathroom. “Hi, Rosie, I’m home,” he told his wife of seventeen years. “What’s for dinner?”

      “Oh, hi, honey,” Rosie said, glancing up from the sewing machine. “What time is it, anyway?”

      “Six,” he muttered. He couldn’t remember when he’d last come home and found dinner in the oven. “The milk was left out again,” he said, thinking it would need to be dumped after sitting for ten hours at room temperature.

      “Eddie fixed himself a bowl of cereal after school.”

      Okay, he figured, the milk might be salvageable.

      She lined up the shiny black material and ran it rapidly through the machine, pulling out pins as she went.

      “What are you sewing?” he asked.

      “A Halloween costume,” she mumbled with four or five pins clenched between her lips. “By the way—” she paused and removed the pins “—Eddie’s school is having an open house tonight. Can you go?”

      “Open house?” he repeated. “You can’t be there?”

      “No,” she said emphatically. “I have choir practice.”

      “Oh.” He’d had a long, trying day at the office and had hoped to relax that evening. Instead, he was going to have to attend this event at his son’s school. “What’s for dinner?” he asked again.

      His wife shrugged. “Call for a pizza, okay?”

      It was the third time in the last two weeks that they’d had pizza for dinner. “I’m sick of pizza.”

      “Doesn’t that new Chinese place deliver?”

      “No.” He should know; he’d had Chinese just that afternoon. СКАЧАТЬ