Still Mr. And Mrs. (8 page)

“I’ve planned a round of golf for everyone.” Evelyn nodded to Jonathan. “And Jonathan has agreed to postpone this morning’s meeting until late this afternoon. Isn’t that right, Jonathan?”

“We need a break,” he said. “And I’d like to
refresh my golf game. Though that parachute jumping sounds rather exciting.”

Evelyn laughed. “Good. It’s settled.”

“Evelyn,” Rebecca said, “do you need another player to even out the set? I’d love to play.”

Evelyn shook her head. “We have two groups of four, including myself. Why don’t you and Gabe take the aerial tram and have lunch on top of the mountain?”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Rebecca said. “What do you think?”

Gabe hesitated, knowing that everyone was listening and waiting for his answer.

He tried to remind himself that being alone with Reb was dangerous, but at that moment he didn’t care.

“I could use a break.”

“Wonderful,” Evelyn said, her voice full of victory.

Rebecca sat on the chintz-cushioned chair in the front foyer, tapping her sneakered foot on the marbled floor. She’d been waiting for Gabe for what seemed like eternity.

In that instant, Gabe rounded the corner and
stopped down the hallway from her. For a brief second they watched each other.

In one hand he held an open straw basket, and under his other arm was a large blanket. His hair was still damp from a shower, and she had the urge to feel the thick texture between her fingers.

She swallowed.

He squared his shoulders and walked toward her.

She held her breath for a second. She could see his muscles ripple beneath his gray knit shirt and jeans.

“Did you want lunch?” He held up the straw picnic basket.

“Oh, that’s a great idea. Thanks for remembering.”

He eyed the cropped red top and denim shorts she wore. “Only shorts? It might get a little cool on top of the mountain.”

“You’ll keep me warm.”

He arched a brow at her comment. “It’s a public place.”

“Since when did that ever stop you from putting your arms around me in public?”

He smiled.

“Seems to me,” Rebecca went on, “that
you’ve done a lot more than just holding me in public.”

“Kissing isn’t a crime,” he reminded her. His gaze held a warning that unnerved her. “Do you have a sweater or something?”

“I have a sweatshirt.” She indicated the large bag at her feet, then took the picnic basket from him. Their fingers brushed and passion grew in her heart like a song. “Why the wine?”

He shrugged.

“Are you planning to seduce me?” she asked in a sweet voice, feeling the warmth of his hands. “To woo me on top of the mountain over a bottle of wine?”

“Are you looking for trouble, Reb?” His voice showed signs of interest.

“Depends, Gabe.” She suppressed a tiny moan at the back of her throat. “Are you offering?”

“That’s the last of the rosé.” Gabe handed Reb her half-filled glass.

It had been almost two hours since they arrived at the aerial tramway, traveled the three and a half miles up the hill, eaten the lunch Hines had packed for them, and taken a small
hike along one of the many tree-lined mountain trails.

“We really finished that bottle off quickly, didn’t we?” Rebecca sipped the last swallow.

She placed her glass inside the straw basket along with the other picnic items. Gabe leaned back and stretched his legs out on the blanket, watching her. Under the shade of a huge evergreen, he had the unobstructed view of the Coachella Valley below, the San Jacinto mountains behind him, and Reb right beside him.

And he’d never seen anything more lovely in his whole life.

She’d loosened her hair, allowing the thick waves to lay across her shoulders. He wanted to wrap his fingers around each wild curl and inhale its clean, sweet scent.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the day care center when we were married?” Gabe asked.

She brushed her hair aside but didn’t look at him. “You were always too busy.”

Again, he’d failed her. It was as though he’d turned into his father. Always working. Never having the personal time for his family. A bitter feeling of resentment churned deep in his stomach.

Awkwardly, she cleared her throat. “I didn’t want you to think it was a silly idea.”

He touched her hand. “I don’t think it’s silly.”

She shrugged.

“Reb. Why the desperate need for kids when we’d been married for such a short time?”

“Because it’s the only way I can fill this empty place inside me, Gabe. I love children.”

“Wasn’t I enough? Didn’t I make you happy?”

“Yes, I loved you. You made me very happy.” Her voice trailed off.

“But not completely,” he added for her. “Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” He stretched back, resting on his elbows. “You know, I always had this feeling you never needed me. At least not in the way I wanted you to need me.”

“Really?” The shock in her voice was plain to hear.

He nodded. “Yeah, you were always so strong and independent. You remind me a lot of Evelyn in that way.”

“Gabe, I—”

“Reb, do you remember why we broke up?”

She blushed a light pink. “We had this huge, stupid argument.”

He sensed she was stalling, but then she continued.

“I remember you had to plan out our vacation to the tiniest detail, the hour, the minute, pinpointing each and every thing we were going to do. I felt like a business meeting, not a wife.”

“I wanted to give you the best.”

“You didn’t have to. It was as if you were trying to buy my love. As if just being with me wasn’t enough for you.”

He felt a heavy twinge of regret and emptiness. “I didn’t want anything to go wrong.”

“Life has no guarantees. Just like in business, you take risks. You should know that.”

“But in business you have more control if you plan carefully.”

“Life can’t always be controlled.”

“This is crazy.” He shook his head. “And so were those arguments. It wasn’t just the arguments that broke us up. They were a symptom of bigger problems.” A stab of sadness went through him as he thought about all they had lost.

He sighed. “You are the most exciting woman
I’ve ever known. I want you to know that. I will treasure the memories forever.”

He paused for a second, seeing only the bittersweet desire in the depths of her eyes.

“Since that argument, I’ve had a lot of time to think about things,” she murmured. “We both said a lot of hurtful things, Gabe. I want you to know that I made a mistake by threatening to divorce you. It was supposed to be a wake-up call. I didn’t think you’d take me up on it.”

He swallowed the lump that suddenly had formed at the back of his throat. “It was a dangerous argument that backfired.”

“I know.”

“You hurt me, Reb. I lost all the trust I had in you. I can’t ever be sure you wouldn’t do it again.”

“I know you tried to give me everything,” she said, hesitation clear in her voice. “When you stormed out that night, it reminded me of my mother …” She struggled for the words. “When my mother abandoned me at the foster home.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked. “I thought Allen and Rosemary adopted you when you were a baby. You never mentioned any foster home.”

“I never liked to talk about it.”

He lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “Why couldn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me. I was supposed to be strong. That’s what, Teri, my biological mother, always told me to be. I’m tough, you know.” She straightened her shoulders with false bravado.

He ran his fingers down the side of her cheek, lingering at the corner of her mouth.
No, you’re not tough
, he wanted to tell her.
You’re sweet and gentle and oh, so fragile.

“How old were you?”

“Seven.”

He sucked in a breath. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He shook his head. “I’m stunned, shocked.”

He stared out into the distance. He’d experienced some of the same things as a child. Things he’d never told Reb about either. Technically his father hadn’t abandoned him as Reb’s mother had. But the pain of being sent away to boarding school felt the same.

Gabe’s chest tightened as the resentment surfaced. The need to hold her, tell her everything would be all right overwhelmed him. “Is this why you want children so desperately?”

She nodded. “I wanted to make sure I was doing this for the right reasons, so I went to some adoption seminars. I even talked to a psychotherapist.”

“So you’re sure.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. My heart and soul are screaming for me to do this, Gabe.”

“I wish you would have told me about this sooner, Reb. At least then I’d have been able to understand you better.”

“When you walked out after that fight, all those horrible memories came flooding back. I couldn’t stop thinking about them.” Her voice drifted into a hushed whisper.

“Reb,” Gabe said softly. “I can’t begin to tell you how bad I feel about what happened.”

She leaned closer to him. “It’s in the past where it belongs.”

He touched her cheek, stroking upward to cup her face. Then, through a hazy veil of passion, he instantly wrapped her in his arms.

Slowly, he lowered his head to kiss her.

Their lips brushed, touched, and tasted.

Then the fire started.

Rebecca gasped at the feel of Gabe’s chest as he lowered her to the blanket. His kisses intensified and grew harder and more demanding. His mouth devoured hers, leaving her burning with unchecked desire.

Like a sculptor, his hands found the exposed skin of her back where her top had inched upward. His fingers molded her skin, then stroked her with a featherlike touch, sending a blazing streak of heat up and down her spine. His grip tightened.

He muttered something against her lips, and she opened her mouth for him, allowing his tongue to probe and twist with hers.

He tasted wonderfully sweet, the nectar of the rosé still lingering on his tongue.

He rubbed his hand along the slim curve of her hip, pulling her closer to him. She nestled her thigh between his legs, drawing a deep moan from him.

Pressed together, she couldn’t help but notice the state of his arousal, his desire for her. Her hand traveled down to the metal buttons of his jeans. Cupping him lightly at first, she began to massage him through the rough fabric.

He groaned low in his throat, the sound luring her closer.

She slipped one button on his jeans free. Then the next. And the next.

She wanted to touch him, to feel the smooth hardness of him. She slid her hand under the stiff material of his jeans until her fingers grasped and held him gently.

He mumbled her name against her ear, his lips burning a sizzling path down her neck.

It was as if they’d never been apart. Their passion for each other was urgent and wild, out of control.

Then something made him stop and pull away.

“What …?” she breathed in shock at the sudden void. “What’s the matter?”

The wall was up again. He’d lost the control he treasured so much. She saw it in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” His smoky voice was a mix of excitement and strain. He leaned back, quickly buttoning his jeans.

She felt something tighten inside of her. “So am I.”

Rebecca shot straight up in bed, her hand at her throat. She was sure she heard something.

Despite the breeze from the ceiling fan, a bead of perspiration inched down her spine. Through the partially parted shutters, she could see it was still dark. She checked the clock on the nightstand.

It was almost three in the morning.

She crawled out of bed, slipping on the cool satin robe that Gabe had bought her. She walked toward the door, a stream of moonlight guiding her way. She peeked around the corner expecting to see Gabe in the living room in his usual spot.

To her surprise the small couch was empty. The blankets were crumpled in a heap in one corner of the sofa, and the once fluffy pillow was now squashed and lying limp on the floor.

The French door creaked open with a yawn.

She whirled around, realizing the door hadn’t been closed all the way. She walked to the door intent on shutting it but then she stopped.

The moon, now full and hanging high in the night sky, beamed a full light across the lawn and the pool.

There, silhouetted in the shadows, stood Gabe.

He was bare-chested, wearing only a pair of shorts, his hands shoved in the pockets. He stood motionless, staring into the water as though he was hypnotized.

Her throat tightened. Hot tears filled her eyes. She furiously wiped them away with a swipe of her hand.

Slowly, she turned, latching the door shut behind her.

Damn him, she swore.

She knew he was fighting. Fighting her, himself and their unbearable need to be near each other.

She walked back into her bedroom and slipped into bed, pulling the sheet up to her chin. They both had lost so much already. She wasn’t willing to lose anymore. Was she strong enough to fight for them both?

The next evening, Rebecca and Jonathan were in the kitchen making a colossal sundae—and a big mess.