The Good Enough Husband (6 page)

“I also thought I’d check Cody out too, though he seems to be doing fine.”

***

Although Hannah had agreed to his morning outing, and goodness knows she was jonesing for some caffeine; she didn’t budge from her place on the stairs. In the dark of night, she’d been so sure of her actions. She wanted him, she could have him. In the light of day, nothing looked the same. It wasn’t Ben. Her hand longed to touch the curls still damp at the nape of his neck. His long sleeved Henley clung to his taut frame. She admired the sprinkling of hair on his chest, peeking out between the buttons. His broad shoulders tapered into faded brown corduroys. Low cut suede boots molded to his feet.

Ben leaned over to pet the dog, examining his eyes and ears. Cody opened one eye lazily, happily accepting what he viewed as affection.

“So where does one shop around here?” She’d taken Cody for a pretty long walk and she hadn’t passed much that wasn’t residential. She’d spied a general store—a quaint looking place that she’d considered stopping at—but it was closed until well into the morning.

“Warehouse store or health food?” he asked.

“Can we do both? I eat healthy when I can, but I don’t need organic paper towels. If you don’t have the time for that, I understand,” she added quickly. Ben seemed unsure of women, in general, and her in particular, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Maybe he was being nice, and last night had been an aberration. Because she was wildly attracted to him, didn’t mean he returned the sentiment. He could have been horny last night. It looked like it could get lonely up here in the sticks. “You can point me in the right direction. The car’s navigation can do the rest.” She was giving him an out. She wanted more between them. She wanted to see what would happen if they spent time together.

With a few words, he could push the reset button. She could spend the next week or so in retreat, and he could splint the broken wings of sparrows, or do whatever he did out here by the ocean. Hannah’s attraction to him had hit her upside the head like a ca
rtoon anvil. She needed time for the stars to fade. Ben paused and looked at his hands a long moment, before gazing out at the magnificent ocean view. She followed his gaze, watching the waves crash against the weathered stones. He turned that intense and contemplative gaze on her. Ben was making some decision more weighty than whether to drive to the store or not.

“I’ll drive. You ready to go?”

Hannah stood, and turned to walk up the stairs. “Let me get something for Cody and my wallet.” Coming back down with bag in hand, she threw the extra-large rope toy into the living room and the dog, who had previously looked dead to the world, jumped up, eager for the new treat. The path cleared, Hannah descended the steps, ready to join Ben wherever he wanted to take them.

***

Ben was surprised again at how tall she was, merely half a head shorter than he. He’d always dated small, curvy women—kind of like his mom. He paused, blinking at that little revelation. He’d probably need ten years of therapy to figure that one out.

Despite her height, or because of it, he felt very comfortable with Hannah. It felt more like she was his equal—that she wasn’t expecting him to take care of her. He was more than ready for a
woman who could take care of herself. A relationship of equals was right at this phase of his life.

Because she wasn’t tiny, did not mean she wasn’t all woman. As he was always taught, he opened her car door and helped her in. They reached for the seat belt at the same time, their hands mee
ting. He held hers for a moment too long, enchanted with her long slim fingers and plainly, but perfectly manicured nails. When she buckled herself in, Ben noticed Hannah jingled a lot less than yesterday. She was wearing only one bracelet today, a wide enameled bangle, instead of the gold collection she’d had the day before. Elegant simplicity suited her.

As soon as they turned onto Shelter Cove Road, Hannah’s phone rang, a distinctive proprietary ringtone. It rang again, u
nanswered in her lap.

“You can answer it. I don’t mind.” All right, he did mind. Who was calling her all times of day and night? Was she really single, or here trying to get out of some relationship? He wanted to talk to her, find out who she was, without the distractions from her other life.

“You know what, I’m done with this for now.” She flicked off the ringer, opened his glove compartment and shoved it behind the maps and box of syringes jammed in there. “Why do you have syringes?”

He sighed. It was for the crappiest part of his job. “I offer home euthanasia for clients.”

She sucked air through her teeth. “Cody is my first dog. I can’t imagine that his life is going to end one day. Tell me dogs die in their sleep like people.”

He looked over at her, the car rounding a curve. She shaded her hands over her eyes as the strong morning sun lit up the highlights in her curly hair. The ends shone gold in the autumn light. One day he would tell her, it was all the gold she needed. “Dying in our sleep, it’s a myth. Most people die in the hospital and most dogs are euthanized.”

Hannah looked genuinely aggrieved. “So, do you have any pets? I always imagine that vets live on farms with armies of rescued pets, from iguanas to horses.”

Ben had to laugh. He’d met a lot of veterinarians like that hi
mself.

“I bought the practice from a woman like that. She started with horse rescue. Pretty soon people would drop animals off. She ended up with llamas and emus among the bunch. Oh, and she had a lot of rabbits. And they bred like rabbits. It’s good thing she has those forty acres up north.”

“No rabbit rescue at your house?”

He shook his head, embarrassed at his answer. “I don’t have any dogs or cats, either.”

“Don’t you like pets?”

He could feel his face redden. Ben had always wanted a dog like Cody, a big goofy companion. “My ex-wife got custody of the dog in the divorce.”

“Oh. Sorry,” she said, contrite.

“No, it was actually for the best. I worked all the time, and To
ffee was really her dog.”

She laughed that husky laugh he was learning to like. “I’ll a
ssume, for the sake of argument, that Toffee wasn’t your name choice.”

“Um, no. And I’ll tell you a little secret.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. As he’d hoped, she leaned in closer, her scent wafting over the gearbox. “I’m no fan of toy dogs. People assume vets love all animals equally. We don’t. At least, I don’t. It was a little dachshund with the most annoying bark ever. Let’s say, I didn’t retain visitation rights.”

Hannah’s phone buzzed again, pulling her back upright in her seat. It vibrated loudly against the box of needles. She opened the glove box, turning it off all the way, and shoved it farther back into its recesses.

“Sorry.”

“Are you the only agent in Orange County? I can’t imagine that your clients can’t find anyone else.”

“It’s not them,” she said, sobering.

So there was a guy. There had to be a guy. “Does it have to do with this ‘retreat’ you’re on?”

“Are we close to coffee? I’m not much good without a morning jolt.” Was Hannah caffeine deprived or changing the subject?

He glanced at his watch. “Maybe twenty minutes more.”

She reached into the bottomless pit of her designer tote and pulled out sunglasses with lenses the size of Frisbees. The rhine
stone logo on the stem cast starbursts of light in the car. Every tourist was wearing the same thing this summer. He tried not to fault her for lack of originality. It wasn’t exactly like he was down on the farm sewing his own clothes.

They drove in silence for a while. He stole a look at her profile every once in a while, taking her in. Her curly flyaway hair, her full lips, the upturned, but proportioned nose. When he glanced at her this time, her brow was furrowed.

“I have no secrets,” he told her plainly. Ben was too old to play games. He need honesty and openness between them if there was ever to be anything more. “Just ask.”

“Since we’ve already done this the wrong way,” she prefaced, “can I ask why you and your wife broke up?”

A sharp pain came and went in his gut. Samara’s betrayal still stung, physically.

“I found out she was cheating,” he said matter-of-factly.

4

“Oh!” Hannah sucked in a breath, and let it out slowly. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, glad that the huge dark lenses hid them from his scrutiny. She looked at Ben from under her frames. Ben didn’t have any lenses shielding his stormy gray eyes from the bright morning sun. Hurt still lingered there.

She
wasn’t cheating. She and Ben had not slept together. It was
over
with Michael. It had been over the minute she’d backed out of the garage of their Newport Beach home. There was nothing left between them but the details—selling the house, splitting their assets, getting a divorce. Seeking out a relationship with Ben was part of ‘moving on.’ The phrase every talk show guest and reality show star used must have some merit.

“I’m sorry,” she continued finally, hoping he attributed the d
elay in her response to tact. “That must have been rough. Did you walk in on them or something?”

“Nothing as awful as that. I was on the computer in the den one night checking on some lab tests and an instant message thing popped up. I clicked on it… All downhill from there.”

“How long had it been going on?” Maybe this Samara had been cheating for years. Long-term deception was unforgivable. A short break between one relationship and another happened all of the time. Almost every boyfriend she’d ever broken up with had had another girlfriend within weeks, if not days. She’d never thought they were cheating—but expedient.

“Whether it was one day or several years, I didn’t need to know. I didn’t ask a lot of questions. I didn’t go all detective on her or the computer. The fact that she broke our marriage vows and was having a relationship with another man was enough for me,” Ben said, banging a palm against the dashboard for emphasis.

“Had your marriage been okay before that?” Women didn’t cheat for no reason. The both of them were probably unfulfilled. She knew that feeling well by now. Maybe he would understand why her marriage to Michael was ending even with no bad behavior on anyone’s part.

“In retrospect, no. I’d sold out. Got the big house even though I didn’t want it. Joined the gold plated practice even though I never planned to cater to the dogs of the rich and famous. Turned out to be all status and no substance.”

She stuck her toe in the water. “Then maybe the best thing that could have happened is that you found out she was with someone else.”

Ben slammed the steering wheel angrily. “Deceit is never the answer. Honesty would have worked. It would have been hard. I would have been hurt either way. But if Samara had told the truth, we could have ended things the right way.” Hannah agreed with his sentiment. It was exactly what she was trying to do with M
ichael—end things the right way. All she needed was the guts, the courage to tell the man that had always been a true friend, that it was time to end the marriage part of their relationship.

After a pause, Ben continued, “The best thing is that we didn’t bring any kids into it. Would have been a mistake.”

“Did you want kids?” She immediately hated herself for the eager, pleading tone in her question. Hannah knew from talking to her single male friends that men of a certain age hated being asked about kids. They wanted women to want them, not be sized up for their father potential.

“Probably too late for me. Should have done it when I was a younger man, but Samara was never willing to give up her lifestyle for it. You can’t go to Pilates in the morning, lunch with girlfriends, and shopping in the afternoon with a toddler on your hip.” She held back her sigh of relief. Thank goodness they were at least on the same page about that. She’d finally met a man who set her insides on fire and wanted what she wanted.

“That’s probably true,” she said. “Parenting takes a lot of sacrifice.” She was willing to make that sacrifice.

“And I didn’t see us being a family that hired a nanny to raise our children. My mom raised my sister and me without help. She eventually worked full time. But we were always well cared for and knew we were loved. I think that’s the only kind of enviro
nment I’d want to bring a kid into. It’s the main reason we had
that
house and I had
that
job.”

They drove the rest of the way in relative silence. From time to time, Ben pointed out different aspects of the beautiful landscape, the tall pines, the dramatic mountains, and the ever-present wil
dlife. Hannah looked at nature on display, and the compelling man beside her. She loved his outside, the hound dog eyes she wanted to see smile again. She admired his thick brown hair beginning to show a few silver threads. But she was starting to like his inside as well. He was a traditional man with a big heart and a gentle soul. She let her eyes drift shut and began to imagine a quiet life up here with Ben, and their babies.

***

Ben pulled into the lot of the warehouse store first. “If you’re not picky, they have coffee here while we shop.”

She hopped out of the car before he could turn off the engine and open her door for her. She wasn’t a woman used to being taken care of and it rankled with him a little. He wanted a woman who could stand on her own two feet. Samara’s need to have him chime in on every decision had been cloying. But he wanted her to need him, a little. He already felt a need for her that driving, and sho
pping, a little kissing wasn’t slaking. Hannah strode forward, grabbed a cart and sailed through the automatic doors. He could do no more than follow her.

For the next two hours, Ben watched Hannah shop, and against her protests, carried everything for her. He hauled a sack of food for Cody, paper products, and fresh meat and produce in paper bags. The ride back was quiet and he fished in the cup holder for his MP3 player, plugging it into the auxiliary jack on the stereo.

“So you’re not a Luddite?”

“No, Hannah.” Ben shook his head ruefully. “The phone is a personal thing. Maybe I’ll get one again someday. For now, I’m enjoying my solitude. My tunes, I have to have.”

He was surprised when she sang along with R.E.M. and U2, with one of those whisky soaked voices that brought sex to the mind of any straight man. It wasn’t difficult to imagine her in a smoky club, scantily clad, drawing in her audience. The scantily clad part of that fantasy had him shifting in his seat. The corduroys that had seemed so comfortable this morning suddenly constricted his movements. The closer Ben got to the house, the less he wanted to leave Hannah. He didn’t have any etchings to show her, but he could cook for her. One or two late night cable movies he’d seen with hot sex on the kitchen counter sprang to mind.

“Let me make you breakfast,” he said pulling into his parents’ driveway.

“You’ve got it,” she said easily. “Cooking isn’t really my thing.”

Hannah bustled into the kitchen, putting stuff away while he donned his mother’s frilly checked apron and got to work. When Hannah left to put away the rest of her things, the room lost a little of its warmth. He put down the wooden spoon he’d been holding,
and patted the amiable dog on the head. Cody was not a substitute for female companionship.

About twenty minutes later, Ben put steaming pancakes and bacon on the counter along with more coffee and called her to the kitchen. Sitting side by side at the counter in the light of day was more intimate than dinner by twilight.

They ate in silence for a while, except when Hannah complimented him on the food.

“Aren’t you a little young for a mid-life crisis?” Ben was pro
bing, he knew. He hoped she wasn’t considering celibacy after a bad breakup or something like that.

“I turned thirty-seven this year, and I’m not where I thought I’d be.” Ben was surprised her age was so close to his own. He’d a
ssumed she was much closer to thirty. Her reason for getting away wasn’t much different from his own, minus the cheating spouse, of course.

“And where is that?”

“In a long term relationship, maybe married, with a couple of kids. Living in New York. Pursuing a career more tangible than real estate.”

“Real estate is a fall back career for a lot of wives I’ve met.”

Hannah blinked, looking startled. “Yeah, I kind of fell into it, too. I thought it would be enough to make up for what I gave up.”

“Do you sing? I really liked your voice back there in the car.” That was an understatement. That voice made his cock twitch.

“I majored in music in college.”

“Where was that?”

“New York.” Hannah didn’t offer more.

“What brought you out here to California? You don’t strike me as a native.” He gave her a disarming half smile, but she didn’t return it.

“Taking pictures.”

“Did you bring a camera with you?”

“Always. I got some great ocean shots on the One,” she said, effusive once again. “I can’t wait to do some sunsets from the deck here. They’ll be incredible.” She looked at him for a long moment. Her intense scrutiny literally had him squirming in his seat. “I still want to photograph you.”

“Really?” At forty, he was grateful that he had all his hair—on his head.

She turned on the kitchen stool, her knees bumping his hip. She reached out her hands toward his face. “Can I?”

Could she touch him? God, yes. Speechless, he turned fully towards her. He intertwined his knees with hers so the barstool wouldn’t swing him back toward the counter.

Her hands smoothed over the cowlick he determinedly beat down every morning, pushing his hair back from his brow. Her fingers tunneled through his hair and she stroked his scalp. She smoothed her manicured fingers over his brow, down his nose, and across his lips. He resisted the urge to take her fingertips into his mouth. She ran her hands along his neck, and he hoped that she couldn’t feel the strain of keeping his hands to himself. The fact that Hannah kept her hands on the outside of his clothing was probably his saving grace. When she’d satisfied herself, she put her hands back in her lap.

Did he pass muster? It was stupid to crave something so much. Something he hadn’t known he wanted a few days earlier.

“Tomorrow night around six? The light should be right.”

He nodded, not caring that he was being led around by his dick. At this point, his penis could call all the shots.

After Ben left, Hannah cleaned up the morning dishes. She dragged a couple of heavy Adirondack chairs from the shed and got comfortable on the broad, weathered deck. As the ocean breeze picked up, she wrapped her sweater more tightly around her. Then she made sure the dog was comfortable on a rough wool blanket she’d found in a chest upstairs. Turning on the phone in her lap, Hannah propped her feet up on the second chair. It lit up like a Christmas tree, lights flashing as it displayed all her missed calls, voicemails and texts. She cleared the notifications without looking at them. Before she could put the phone down on the chair’s arm, it rang.

“Hannah, why has your phone been off?” Michael asked in a mildly reproving tone.

“I had to get some supplies, and I turned it off while I was dri
ving.” The difference between driving and riding was a distinction without a difference. She didn’t want to complicate their conversation by mentioning that Ben had been in the car with her.

“Isn’t that why we paid for Bluetooth in this car? You said it would be easier to have a completely hands free call.”

“Michael. Hands free driving may be safer, but it’s not safe. The road into town winds through some steep mountain terrain. I needed to concentrate.” Little white lies rolled off her tongue.

“Oh,” he said, deflated. He was a bit of a safety nut, always buckling and snapping, and following the speed limit. The bellig
erent tone was quickly replaced by a wheedling one she’d always found annoying. “Why can’t I come up there? I won’t get in your way. If you’re thinking about your future, don’t you think your husband should be there?”

No, she didn’t think he should be there. Hannah would readily admit that Michael was a smart man with good ideas. He’d helped her in the past when she’d closed her photography business and opened one in real estate instead. He’d helped her pick her car, pick her clothes, and make all her decisions. She didn’t know when she’d gone from self-sufficient to reliant on him, but it was time to put it all to a halt.

“Michael. I’m going to say this only one more time. I need this time alone.” Hannah spelled it out in case he didn’t understand. “A-L-O-N-E.”

Michael sighed, changing tactics. He was ignoring her as he always did when she didn’t give in. Most of the time, she went along because it was easier than arguing. He could verbally outlast her every single time. “I know you’re going through a lot. It’s clear that moving down to Orange County maybe wasn’t the best idea. But I’m going through something here, too. I’m still processing what Dr. Stern said.” He’d thrown a left hook. She was on the ropes, but felt a last surge of self-protective energy.

“Michael, this isn’t a good idea. I need to be selfish for a little while.”

“Is this because I couldn’t get you pregnant? There are other ways we can be a family.” He’d gone from bullying, to persuasion,
to guilt in less than ten minutes. She looked out at the dark water. She felt bad for Michael, really bad. But she also felt bad for herself. And them being together for twenty-four hours a day wasn’t going to fix any of their problems.