A Marriage Made in Texas (The Brothers Kincaid) (21 page)

“Trust has nothing to do with this. You’re angry because I made a decision without you.” She’d been alone, and she’d learned her lesson well from her first marriage. She could only depend on herself. “I did what I thought was best. Who are you to second-guess me?”

“Nobody important. Just your husband.”

They stared at each other in silence for a long moment, then he turned his back and walked out of the room.

She stood there a moment, quivering with fury, with guilt, with desperation. A seething mass of contradictory emotions. Tears stung at her eyes, but she brushed them away impatiently. She had no time for tears. How had they gone from deliriously happy and in love one week to shouting such hurtful things at each other the next? Had Jay always felt this way?
Or was he just reacting to the accident, and this is what came of it?

She found him in the bedroom, sitting on the side of the bed. She was sick and tired of taking all the heat for a decision she still believed had been the right one. “You’re condemning me for making a choice, and you have no idea what I felt like when I made that choice.”

He glanced at her. “I’m not condemning you. I’m finally admitting that you’re never going to trust me, no matter what I do. I kept thinking the trust would grow. That if I just loved you enough, you’d trust me, eventually.” He laughed without humor. “Last weekend proved to me that was never going to happen.”

Anger spiked in her bloodstream. “According to you this is all my fault. Well, I’ve got news for you, Jay. If you think it’s been easy living with you for the past week, you’re wrong. Your way of solving the problem is to avoid it, and guess what? It doesn’t work.”

“Oh, and this does?” He got up and stood glaring at her. “I can’t see that we’ve accomplished anything by talking. Besides, your doctor said not to upset you. I didn’t think a scene like this would be good for you or the baby.” He turned away.

Her heart constricted. “It’s always the baby, isn’t it? We wouldn’t be married, hell, we probably wouldn’t even still be together if not for the baby. Tell me something, Jay.” She paused until he looked at her. “If I had lost the baby would you have stayed married to me?”

“You didn’t lose the baby. Besides, the baby isn’t the issue here. Our marriage—or lack of it—is.”

“You don’t love me at all, do you?” she whispered, suddenly struck by the truth. “You love the baby. It’s always been the baby, and I’ve just been too stupid to see it.”

“You’re wrong. If I didn’t love you why would I care if you trusted me, or shared your life with me?”

She couldn’t answer.

“This is pointless,” he said after a moment. “I’m going to sleep in the spare room.” He started gathering his things, his pillow, the book on the beside table.

The baby’s room, Gail thought. “No.” She shook her head. “No, don’t.”

“Gail—”

“I want you to leave.” Unable to stop them, the words burst from her. She’d never imagined saying those words to Jay. Never imagined the pain it would cause her to speak them.

He stopped gathering his stuff and stared at her incredulously. “You’re kicking me out?”

“You need to leave,” she repeated, barely able to speak past the tightness in her throat.

“Is that really what you want? You want us to break up?”

“I…don’t know. I know I need to be alone.”

“Fine. You want your goddamn independence so much, you’ve got it.”

He went to his closet, returned a moment later with a duffel bag he threw on the bed. In silence, he began
to pack. Gail watched him, unable to speak. She felt as if she were in a dream. No, a nightmare.

He finished packing, zipped the bag, and looked at her, as if waiting to see what she would say.

“Where are you going to stay?”

“The Palm Tree motel,” he said, naming the only hotel actually in Aransas City.

She winced, knowing the place was only a step above a dive. “You can stay at my house. Since it hasn’t sold, there’s no reason for you not to.”

“No. I can’t stay two doors down from you.” He shook his head. “I’m going to the Palm Tree. I’ll call you about picking up the rest of my stuff.”

The rest of his stuff? It sounded so final. How could he be so calm when she felt as if her world was coming apart? “I’m not talking about divorce,” she said, hating the sound of the word. “I just think we need some time…to think. To consider our problems.”

“Right.” He stopped at the bedroom door and looked at her. “You let me know what you decide, Gail.”

He’s furious, she realized, looking into those sharp green eyes. “This isn’t over,” she said, desperately hoping that was true.

“Isn’t it? It feels pretty damn final to me,” he said, and left.

J
AY HAD KNOWN
the Palm Tree wouldn’t be the most luxurious place to stay, but the reality of it exceeded even his worst expectations. The night before he’d been too mad and upset to notice much, but the light of day brought the realization that he’d be suicidal if he stayed more than a night or two in the dump.

It wasn’t dirty, but that was the best you could say about it. The room boasted a kitchenette with cracked Formica countertops, an ancient stove and an equally ancient refrigerator. A battered, stainless steel drip coffeepot stood on the stove along with a few equally hammered pots and pans. The cupboards and drawers held a set of four mismatched dishes, glasses, silverware, a can opener and a broken corkscrew.

Home sweet home, Jay thought. The rest of the room was no better, with dirt-colored carpet, grimy dark walls, a broken-down couch, a TV that only got one channel, and a bed whose sagging springs were covered with the ugliest bedspread he’d ever seen.

He would have to find an apartment. He’d spoken the truth when he said he couldn’t live two doors down from Gail. How could he stand seeing her daily, not to mention Mel and Roxy, and know he couldn’t
be with them? No, an apartment it would have to be. Gail would keep the dogs, he knew. The girls loved them and she was fond of them too. Hell, maybe he could have visiting rights to the dogs, along with his child and the girls.

Visiting rights. The thought made his chest hurt. Gail had said she didn’t want a divorce, but he could see what way they were heading and it wasn’t getting back together.

He admitted the whole fiasco last night had been partly his fault. Before he knew it, he’d found himself yelling about everything that bothered him or worried him in their relationship. More, everything he’d kept bottled up for the past week had gushed out of his mouth like a damn flood. And Gail had been right. He’d blamed everything on her. Hell, no wonder she’d kicked him out.

He’d overreacted, and he knew it. But damn it, that’s why he knew talking things out never solved anything. What had talking done but get them to this point? he thought, looking around at his dismal surroundings. On the verge of divorce with no way to fix it.

Someone pounded on his door. His heart leapt as he rose. It had to be Gail. She was the only person who knew where he was.

He opened the door to his brother.
Stupid,
he thought.
Of course it’s not Gail. Haven’t you gotten it through your thick head that she doesn’t want you?

“What the hell is your problem?” Mark asked, striding inside.

“The only person who knows where I am is Gail. So obviously, you know what my problem is.” He took a seat on the couch, propped his feet on the rickety coffee table and watched his brother pace the room.

“What the hell are you doing? How could you leave Gail? She’s pregnant with your kid, for God’s sake.”

“I didn’t leave her. Gail kicked me out.”

That stopped Mark. “She said you left.”

“I did. When she asked me to.”

“Oh, man.” Mark took a seat beside him on the couch. “I’m sorry, Jay. I didn’t know.”

Jay shrugged. “Forget it.”

“Do you have any coffee?” Mark asked.

“On the stove. It’s drinkable. Barely.”

“This place is disgusting,” Mark said as he came back with his mug. “Come stay with us.”

“Thanks, but no. I won’t be here long. I’ll find an apartment soon.”

Mark sat down again. “What happened?” he asked after a moment. “Why did she kick you out?”

Jay shot him an irritable look. “Talking’s what got me into this mess in the first place. Nothing good ever comes from talking. That’s a female myth.”

“You have a point,” Mark said, and was quiet a moment. “Do you still love her? Do you want to get back together with her?”

“Yeah.” More than he could say. “Not that it matters.”

Mark frowned. “That’s a defeatist attitude. You
had a fight. So what? Everyone has fights. Why don’t you try to fix it? You know, grovel if you have to.”

Jay’s laugh held no humor. “Groveling won’t help. I don’t think anything will. It wasn’t just the fight. Gail’s finally figured out she doesn’t really want to be married to me.” His gaze met Mark’s. “I’ve had to talk her into everything, starting with marriage, from the get-go. I can’t do it anymore. It isn’t working. It never worked. I was just too stupid to see the failure.”

“So you’re going to give up on your marriage? Just like that? Without even a fight?”

Jay stood up, shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and began to pace. “What else can I do, Mark? Gail asked me to leave. She doesn’t want me there anymore. She doesn’t want
me
anymore.” Did she ever, he wondered. Or had it all been him?

“Bull. She’s crazy in love with you.”

“No, she’s not.” He shook his head, realizing it was true. “She might think she is, but she isn’t.” She was crazy about the sex, but love was a whole different story. Too bad he hadn’t figured that out until now.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to give her what she wants,” Jay said. And if she wanted a divorce, he’d give it to her.

He would survive. He’d survived when his father left. When his mother deserted them. He would live through Gail divorcing him.

But damn it, he didn’t want to live through it. He wanted to live with Gail, and Mel and Roxy and the
new baby. He wanted to keep the family he’d found. So he had a choice. Give up, or fight for what he wanted.

G
AIL KNEW
she was being irrational, but she couldn’t believe Jay had left so easily. He hadn’t even tried to talk her out of it. Maybe he’d wanted to leave her, but his conscience wouldn’t let him. His sense of obligation. So she’d given him the perfect opening when she’d asked him to leave.

She’d slept, finally, but badly, her dreams tortured and jumbled. And always with the one image of Jay walking out the door with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. She’d awakened that morning reaching for him. Of course, he hadn’t been there. He would never be there again, unless she asked him to come back. But did he even want to come back to her?

She went through the motions of her day. Alone. Knowing Jay wouldn’t be walking in the door. Knowing she wouldn’t have him to tell about the latest crazy thing the puppies had done. Or what Mel or Roxy had said when they called. Knowing he wouldn’t touch her, hold her, kiss her. How could she miss him so much when he hadn’t even been gone a day?

Cat had called and wanted to come over, clearly after talking to Mark. Gail had put her off, unwilling to talk to anyone about what had happened. She wanted to wallow in her misery alone.

God, she was an idiot. Why had she asked him to leave? So what if he’d been wrong to blame every
thing on her? That didn’t mean she had to kick him out of the house. Besides, though it hurt to admit it, he’d had a point. She’d known ever since she looked at that wreck, that if she and the baby had been hurt or injured it would have been her fault and hers alone.

Was Jay right? Did she just not want to trust him? No, she wanted to, but she was afraid to trust him. Afraid to let him in that last part of her heart. Because of Barry, she realized. When Barry had left her, he’d destroyed her ability to trust again. She was allowing him—by her reaction to his leaving—to wreck her marriage with Jay just as he’d wrecked their own marriage.

She had a choice. Watch her marriage crumble, or fight for it.

A
FTER PICKING UP
a pizza and a six-pack of beer, Jay returned to his motel room. He’d thought about eating it at the pizza place, but since he had no desire to talk to anyone he knew, he took it back with him. As he’d discovered earlier, the door stuck, so he had to put down everything and ram his shoulder into it to get it to open.

He picked up the pizza and beer and walked in, then stopped dead in his tracks when he saw who sat on his couch.

“Hi,” Gail said, getting up. “I hope you don’t mind, but I got the clerk to let me in.”

Mind? She stood there, her blond hair feathering around her face, her voice soft and inviting. He
wanted to eat her alive. Instead he set his dinner down on the coffee table. “No, I’m glad to see you.”

Her hands twisted together nervously. He couldn’t decide if that was a good or a bad sign.

“This place is awful,” she said, glancing around. “I told the clerk we were married, but I don’t think he believed me.” She shuddered. “He told me to have fun and gave me the nastiest wink when he let me in.”

“I don’t imagine he gets a lot of married couples here. At least, people who are married to each other.” He wanted to take her in his arms, kiss her, make love to her. He tucked his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t touch her. “Why don’t you sit down? Have you eaten? There’s pizza.”

“No, thanks. I’m not very hungry.”

“Are you sick?” he asked, concerned. He’d never known Gail not to be hungry.

She smiled reluctantly. “No. But my heart is.”

Relief swept over him like the tide. If she could admit that so easily, then they still had a chance. “I didn’t think it was possible to miss you so much. It’s only been one night and a day.”

“Oh, Jay,” she said, her voice breaking. “The minute you left I wanted to kick myself. I love you. I missed you, too.”

He closed the distance between them and took her in his arms. “Thank God. I love you, too,” he said, and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him as tightly as he held her. He kissed her again. Her lips were warm, her mouth soft, welcom
ing. He felt as if he’d come home and wanted to kiss her forever.

Finally, she turned her head and gave a breathless laugh. “I need to catch my breath.”

So did he. He was so happy to be holding her in his arms again that he ignored the voice in his mind reminding him that they still hadn’t solved anything.

“I was a jerk,” he said, and kissed her head where it rested beneath his chin.

She looked up at him and smiled. “Yes, you were. But you were right, too.”

He took the few steps to the couch and pulled her down beside him, putting his arm around her. “What was I right about?”

“I should have come home instead of driving to the hospital by myself. It wasn’t a good decision, but at the time, I thought I was making the right one.”

“You were right, too,” he told her. “I should have respected your decision. When I saw your car, though, I went ballistic. And it didn’t help that I couldn’t really say anything to you.”

“We were both wrong. But you were wrong about something else, too,” she said, and smiled. “I do trust you, Jay.”

He couldn’t help looking skeptical, but he didn’t say anything.

“I came over here to tell you a story. About Barry and me. And when he left me.”

“Mark told me. Some, anyway.”

“I wondered if he hadn’t. But Mark doesn’t know the whole story. Neither does Cat. No one does.”

But she was telling him. Maybe she did trust him, at least a little. He pulled her close against his side. “What happened?”

“You know the short version. I came home one day from visiting my mother with the girls and found a note from Barry. He said he had an opportunity in another city. Something big, something that could be great. But he couldn’t take us with him, and he knew I’d understand. He didn’t ask for a divorce, but after that, I couldn’t see any other option.” Her eyes met Jay’s and she smiled ruefully. “Especially when the next day I discovered that he’d cleaned out our bank accounts. He left me with a hundred dollars.”

He’d known it was bad, but he hadn’t realized quite how bad. “I’m surprised your brothers let him live.”

“They wouldn’t have, if they could have found him. But we didn’t know where he’d gone. I didn’t hear from him for two years, when he moved back to town and decided he did want his daughters after all.”

“A lot of women wouldn’t have given him that chance.”

“He’s their father. Even if I think he’s a pig, he’s still their father.” She shifted, rubbed her cheek on his shoulder. “When he left, I wasn’t sorry. Shocked, that he’d left like he did, but not really sorry. We’d had problems from the beginning.”

She shook her head, gave a wry smile. “He had affairs. I pretended he didn’t. He never was there for me. I pretended that didn’t matter either. Even when he didn’t show up at the hospital when I had my
babies, I let it go. Do you know why?” she asked and looked up at him.

He shook his head. “Because you loved him?”

“No, not by the time he left. No, I let him treat me like he did because I was scared. Of being alone, of having to support myself and the girls.” She sighed and shook her head. “I hadn’t worked since I had Roxy. I had a marketing degree, but I didn’t like my job. So after I had Roxy, I quit. I liked staying home with the girls. I didn’t want to go back to work and leave them.”

He took her hand and squeezed it. “Wanting to stay home with your kids isn’t a bad thing, either.”

“No, except that it made me too dependent on Barry.” She straightened and met his gaze. “When Barry left, I panicked. I had no real job skills. Believe me, nobody wanted a marketing major who’d been out of the game for nearly five years. And I had no choice that time, I had to support myself and the girls.”

“Anyone in your position would have been scared. That’s a lot of responsibility to shoulder alone.”

“I was a spineless, gutless fool,” she said flatly.

He frowned, not liking to hear her run herself down. “Don’t say that. You weren’t.”

“Yes, I was. I let Barry treat me like dirt, because I was afraid. But I changed. After he left, I knew I could never, ever put myself in a position like that again. I found work. Not a career, but a job. For a long time, I worked two jobs and Mom took care of the girls. I decided I’d better find a career, because
working the two jobs was killing me and I never saw my children. That’s when I decided to get my real estate license.”

“You’d just taken the test when we met,” he remembered.

She nodded. “That’s right. I was celebrating that night. Getting my license was one of the best things I’ve ever done. I love my job.” She faced him, gazing at him intently. “And I need it. For more than just the money. Do you understand that?”