Jessie Belle: The Women of Merryton - Book One (24 page)

“You
tell me, you little cougar. Rob’s like ten years younger than us.”

“Cheyenne,
what are you implying?”

“All
I know is that Felicia said Rob pays you a lot of attention in class.”

“He
does not.”

“Oh,
Jessie, would you look at yourself?”

I
looked down at my tank top and shorts that clung to me from the sweat and then
back up to Cheyenne. “What?”

She
shook her gorgeous head at me. “You’re so beautiful and, apparently, dense.”

“Cheyenne,
I’m a married woman and way past my prime.”

“You
haven’t even peaked yet.”

“That’s
not true. I have the first stages of crow’s feet around my eyes.”

She
leaned in very close to my face. “I don’t see any crow’s feet, but it looks
like you’ve been crying again. Now why’s that?”

I
shrugged my shoulders. “I guess because I married an idiot.”

She
stood up straight and took my hand and pulled me to her zebra-striped couch. That’s
right — zebra-striped. “So tell me what the butthead did now,” she demanded as
we sat down.

I
sighed loudly. “It’s the same old stuff.” There was no way I was telling her
what he said—she would have gone ballistic and never forgiven him.

“I
guess I should have known by all the girls’ nights we’ve been having lately.”

“I’m
happy for him that he has Maddie and that he’s a great dad, I just didn’t think
being a great dad and a great husband were mutually exclusive.”

“Well,
at least you know you can still get his blood pumping.”

“Do
you really think he was jealous of Rob?” I didn’t think I had ever seen Blake
jealous.

“Yeah,
honey, I do.”

“There
was no reason to be.”

“I
think it’s good for Blake. The jerk needs to realize what a good thing he has
going with you.”

“I
don’t know about that, but it’s been over thirteen years so I’m not holding out
much hope.”

“I
don’t know why, but I have a feeling you two will eventually figure it out.”

“I
think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about my marriage.”

“I
see the way he looks at you, and I wish someone would look at me like that.”

“You
know, that’s what Maddie’s mom said, too.”

“Please
don’t compare me to that woman.”

“There’s
no comparison. It’s just odd. What’s even odder is that despite everything, I
know Blake loves me. I only wish he’d figure out some better ways to show me.”

“Kissing
you passionately in a room full of people isn’t enough?”

“Maybe
for you.”

She
wiggled her eyebrows at me. “I’d need a little more than that.”

“Okay,
my one-track-minded friend, can I use your shower?”

“Help
yourself, you know where I keep everything.”

And
I did. Abby and I had spent days helping her organize this place after she
moved in.

I
stood in the shower and let the water consume me. I thought about what had
happened earlier, and I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. I found it comical
that Blake reacted in such a way, but I was hurt he accused me of being
jealous. Yes, I had feelings of jealousy, but I wasn’t jealous of Maddie. In so
many ways my heart ached for that girl. I wanted to right all the wrongs for
her, or at least make up for them. I wanted Blake and me to be partners in it,
especially the homework part, except for reading. I loved that part. I found I
liked having someone to snuggle next to and read to. I use to imagine myself
doing it with my own children all the time. And though it was nothing like I
imagined it would be, it kind of filled a need in me.

It
was weird that Maddie had not once gone to my mom’s after school. My mom was
clamoring to have her over, but I’d just been so worried about her falling
further behind in school. I had wanted to talk to Blake about getting her a
tutor for the fall—I thought she needed help beyond what I could do. But
finding time to talk to Blake alone had been hard to come by.

I
leaned against the tiled wall of Cheyenne’s shower and breathed in and out
slowly. Were we ever going to get this right? I didn’t understand why our
marriage had to be so hard.

By
the time I got out of the shower, the hot water had run out. I guess I had
gotten lost in my thoughts. I had to borrow some of Cheyenne’s clothes. She set
me up with some Nike shorts and a tight-fitting tee. The one thing I had going
for me that Cheyenne didn’t was an ample chest, and her little t-shirt had me
showing that quite nicely.

Abby
joined us for some Chinese takeout and laughter. Women need women, pure and
simple. I left Cheyenne’s at eleven that night feeling somewhat like my old
self. I still didn’t know what to do about my idiot husband, but I felt loved
and valued, at least by my friends.

I
walked into a dark and quiet home. I wasn’t expecting anything else and it was
probably for the best. I was tired and in no mood to talk to Blake. I was about
to learn that he didn’t feel the same way. Could we ever be on the same page?

I
walked into my room and flipped on my light, and there Blake lay on our bed,
shirtless, in black pajama pants, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling
fan above that he must have turned on. I had been keeping it off since Blake
kept the air blasting at arctic levels. He didn’t even look at me or act like
he needed to adjust his eyes from the light.

“What
are you doing here?”

He
slowly shifted his focus to me. He had brooding, as well as sex appeal, down to
a science. I could see the definition of every muscle from his arms, down his
chest, and to his abdomen. I think sinewy described him perfectly. I would be
surprised if he had an ounce of fat on him. My heart picked up just a little.
Then I remembered how dumb he was and I quit ogling him and walked toward the
bathroom to get ready for bed. 

“I
couldn’t sleep,” he answered.

I
turned from the sliding bathroom door and looked at him. “And why are you
here?” I asked again.

He
turned to his side and propped his head up on his hand. It was another great
view of him. “I thought we agreed this was still my room, too.”

“Perhaps
I’ve changed my mind.”

“Jess,
we need to talk.”

“It’s
late.”

“Is
it too late for us?”

I
sighed loudly. That question had double meaning. “Let me change and I’ll be
right back.”

He
lay back down and went back to staring at the ceiling.

I
don’t know why I hurried as I threw on my white cotton nightshirt and brushed my
teeth. I turned off the light before I jumped into bed and threw the covers
over me. I was freezing. I lay on my side and faced him. It took my eyes a
minute to adjust to where I could see him clearly in the darkened room, a
little moonlight creeping in from the skylights above to highlight his
features.

Neither
of us spoke as we faced one another and searched each other’s eyes. I don’t
know what he was looking for, but I was looking for hope - hope that I had done
the right thing in staying with him. And maybe I was trying to see if I could
see forever in his eyes. My mom said it was there, I just hadn’t looked hard
enough. I was trying, but I still came up short.

“Jess,
why did you fall in love with me?” he quietly asked after several minutes.

“Blake,
it’s late. Why do you want to talk about this now?”

He
reached out and stroked my chilled cheek with back of his warm hand. “Because I
can’t for the life of me understand why you would.”

I
reached up and took his warm hand. “Sometimes I do wonder.”

He
let out a deep breath. “You know, I was almost angry at you tonight when you
accused me of never putting you first, because when I think back on our life
together, in my mind all the big decisions I’ve made revolved around you. Then
I talked to Maddie tonight on the way home and she told me about everything
you’ve been helping her with or that you said you would do with her. It made me
realize how much I’ve taken you for granted these past couple of weeks. And
then I looked back on our life again, and I realized I haven’t really done much
to deserve you and how selfish I am.”

“Sounds
like you’ve had quite the night.”

“So
tell me why you fell in love with me.” His eyes almost pleaded for relief.

I
thought about it for a moment. I had been so unsure of how I felt about him
that it was hard to remember why I did fall in love with him in the first
place, but then I remembered what, to me, were two poignant moments when we
were dating. “First, there was that time when I called you, frantic about my
car. It was making a terrible noise, so I pulled over on I-15 in the middle of
rush hour traffic and called you on my cell phone. You didn’t even think twice,
you came racing to my rescue only to find out there was a tumbleweed under my
car. I felt so stupid. But you wrapped me up in your arms on the side of the
road and told me I had done the right thing. That it was better to be safe than
sorry.”

That
got a grin out of him.

But
that wasn’t the most telling moment. I scooted closer to him. “Do you remember
that night you drove me up Cottonwood Canyon, and you pulled off on that little
dirt road and we got pretty cozy in the back of your truck?”

His
grin was now gone and he barely nodded.

“Remember
when you began to unbutton my blouse and I told you that I wasn’t ready for
that step and I wanted to wait until I was married?”

“I
remember,” he said quietly.

“I
thought perhaps you would be upset with me because you thought I had led you
on. Or that you would try to convince me to do otherwise. But you didn’t do
either one of those things. You immediately buttoned up the one button you had
undone, kissed my forehead, and then you held me. The next morning you sent me
flowers, I think it was the first and last time.” I smiled. “Pink tulips, with
a card that simply read, ‘I love you.’ It was the first time you expressed that
to me. I was afraid that maybe you would run for the hills and find a woman
that wasn’t like me, but instead you respected my choices and even helped me
keep them when I was tempted to give in.”

“Jess,
I never wanted to hurt you. Then or now.”

Those
pesky tears returned. “In my heart I know that. That night when you held me in
your truck, I knew you were the kind of man that I wanted to spend the rest of
my life with. Someone that would put my wants above his own and someone I would
do the same for. I don’t know what happened between then and now. I guess life.
But I want us to be that couple again.”

Blake’s
arm crept under the covers and he reached for my hand. He pulled it toward him
and kissed it gently, then held it. “I’m sorry for what I said tonight and for
not appreciating you the way I should have. I hope you can be patient with me.”

“Well,
I’ve come this far.” I smiled.

“Are
you sure? From the looks of tonight you have some other options.”

“Are
you jealous?”

“No,
but I don’t like it when other men touch or hit on my wife.”

I
practically laughed at him. “Blake, Rob wasn’t hitting on me. He was telling me
about a class that he and his
wife
teach.”

“I
don’t care what was coming out of his mouth, I saw the way that guy was looking
at you all through your class.”

“Were
you spying on me?”

“No.
I only happened to glance down while we were playing racquetball. I had no idea
you were there until then. Which is beside the point.”

“And
what is the point?” I said, amused.

“For
starters you should wear baggy clothing to the gym. And you should let me teach
you how to play racquetball.”

“But
I like Zumba.”

“Fine,
I guess I’ll take up Zumba.”

“I
don’t see you doing Zumba. Besides, I think it’s creepy when husbands or
boyfriends come to class.”

“And
what about male instructors?”

“That’s
different.”

He
groaned loudly. “Are you going to let me teach you or not?”

“I
suppose if you really want to. But what about Maddie?”

“She
hates it.”

“You
sound disappointed.”

He
shrugged his shoulders. “I’m thinking there could be some perks being in a
closed-in court with my just wife in her workout clothes.”

“And
what perks are those?”

He
reached across the narrow space that now divided us, we seemed to have inched
closer to one another throughout our conversation, and he ran his hand up along
my face and up into my hair. His eyes were giving off some intense heat. I
caught my breath and barely tensed before his face drew closer.

“Sorry,”
I whispered.