Twice in a Lifetime (Love Found) (12 page)

Still dressed in her clothes from school, Allie chopped and diced, had marinara simmering on the stove. With the tension of last night’s argument gnawing, nipping, the day seemed endless. She heard him stumble in some time during the night, but she didn’t even bother to check the clock. Didn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing she was still awake either.

A door closed. Boots thudded. Should she brace for round two or was he as full of remorse as she? Allie held her breath, tracked muted footsteps as he traipsed through the house, turned the corner into the kitchen. She waited for him to approach her before laying her hand on his chest, reaching for a kiss. “You still mad?”

With lids lowered he drew her to him, his arms tight. One hand cupped the back of her head, as if she couldn’t be close enough. “No, we’ll work that out.”

His chest pressed against her as he inhaled deeply, then let it out with a long, uneasy breath. Curiosity had her leaning back to look into his eyes. “What?”

His eyes were cloudy. Not the sparking blue they usually wore. Tension radiated from him in waves. “I’m so damn sorry, Al. I love you, so damn much, and I’m so damn sorry.”

She narrowed her eyes, her brow furrowed. She opened her mouth to question but a sense of foreboding had her closing it again.

Ben released her, turned and ambled toward the doorway.

“Wait.”

He stopped in his tracks, then rotated back, his eyes lowered.

“Jake called. Said something about an argument and you should call when you got in. You two get in a fight?”

He lifted his gaze and met hers. “Sort of.”

“But you guys never fight. It’s kind of creepy.”

His lips curved in a pitiful imitation of a smile. “Yeah, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” And with no other explanation he turned again, headed for the hallway.

Time was elastic. Days stretched into weeks, and then months, and then years—each passing faster than the last. Allie gave the vacuum cleaner a determined shove over nubby beige carpet.

This mindless work was necessary and relaxing. She let her thoughts wander as she vacuumed her way out of her bedroom and down the hallway past Ben’s office. She sucked up dust bunnies from beneath the ancient plaid sofa in the living room—why after three years in the house had it still not been replaced? As the machine glided into the furthest corner of the living room, she mentally ticked this chore off her Saturday to-do list. She’d mop the kitchen floor next. She had much to accomplish before the beginning of the week. And Ben had an overnight to Nebraska on Wednesday.

“Hey babe, I’m home!”

It was the jolt of alarm that had her hand flying up to cover her suddenly hammering heart, sucking in a surprised breath and whirling at the voice the behind her. She could only shake her head at her husband and used a nervous laugh to mask her fright. She bent, flicked the power switch. With the roar of the machine she hadn’t heard the door, the thunk of his boots or his footsteps as he padded through the house wearing nothing but boxers. She could only hope his dusty work clothes were somewhere
near
the hamper in the laundry room.

His gaze heated her as it raked over bare limbs poking through a form-fitting tank and cutoff jeans before he lowered his lips and sealed them on hers.

“Everything taken care of?”

“Yeah, the plumber needed in to fix his
modification
—the word was centered in air quotes—then I helped the foreman move a stack of lumber. Where’s Trey?”

“With Jax. Maddie took the kids to the movies. There’s a new Disney film out.”

“Disney? Isn’t he a little old for that?”

Allie grinned and rolled her eyes as she unplugged the machine. “There are probably girls involved.”

His laugh of surprise erupted in a burst, then faded just as quickly. “Girls? Isn’t he a little young for
that
?”

She paused in winding up the cord. He would always be a little boy’s daddy, longing for the simpler days of skinned knees and loose teeth. “They grow up and move on before you’re done being the parent, don’t they?”

He only nodded.

The idea pricked her too, but she dealt with children growing up and moving on every year at school. The children from her first year teaching were already graduating from high school.

“I’d like to think he’s too young to be interested in girls, but he is thirteen. They’re probably at the top of a very short list.” She picked up her basket of cleaning supplies, poked him in the chest with a finger. “You guys have that talk yet?”

“It’s now at the top of
my
list.”

She nodded, changed the subject, “So what’s on for today?”

“Jake’s having people over to swim this afternoon, maybe get pizza later on. You feel like it?”

“Sure, sounds like fun. Trey can work on his backstroke.”

“There will be quite a few kids there. He can practice his backstroke another day.”

With a fingertip she brushed the furrow in his forehead, smoothing it with a sassy grin. She tugged the elastic snugged around his waist. “Then how about you?”

His shorts were already halfway to the floor.

“You want to practice
your
backstroke?”

“You don’t look like a man ready for a road trip.” Allie threaded an arm through the sleeve of her blouse.

Ben gave his wife a falsely bright smile through the vanity mirror. Maybe she wouldn’t notice that it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sure I am. Los Angeles. Plumbing supplies. All gassed up and ready to go.” He dug through the clutter on the bathroom counter. “Have you seen my keys?”

She patted his pants pocket. The sharp edges jabbed her hand through his chinos. “I hope you pay better attention while you’re driving.”

“Yeah, sure thing. What are you doing today?”

She reached up to poke an earring though the hole in her lobe. He admired the youthfulness the slight curve of her lips gave her face and the way her breast lifted with her arm. Again he was knifed by the sharp stab of guilt that had haunted him for years. She deserved… better.

“Michael’s watching all the kids so Maddie and I can do a little shopping, have lunch. Can you believe we’ve taught school for fifteen years already?” Her smiled brightened. “God, I love the first day of summer vacation.”

His palms found her face, framed it, and his lips explored freely before pulling away. “Always remember how much I love you.”

Her arms wound around him. “Love you back, sweetheart.”

The response, the soft silver of her eyes and the arms wrapped around his waist all warmed him. And made what he was about to do so much more difficult.

He slung the strap of his overnight bag onto his shoulder, stepped through the front door and closed it carefully behind him. He wasn’t heading to L.A. Like he hadn’t gone to San Diego, or Houston, or any number of places over the years. He heaved himself into his truck, drove five miles through late morning sunshine and parked on the cracked concrete driveway. At the front door he stood a moment, his bag again strung over a shoulder, contemplating the tragic irony he was trapped in.

His glance swung from the neatly trimmed yard to the darkly stained wood of the front door. How many years had he come here, anyway? Many, certainly, but that didn’t keep him from hating—no, resenting—it. Was it possible to stop
and
keep his honor? With a shift he transferred his duffle to his other shoulder. The idea taunted him from time to time, but he couldn’t figure how to manage it. The situation was beyond unfortunate. They were all victims.

With a heave of a breath he dropped his duffle at his feet. He was tired clear to his bones. Tired of lying. Tired of feeling trapped. He needed to talk to Allie, make her understand. So many times he’d tried to tell her, to explain, then lost his nerve.

Oh God, he loved her. But what if he couldn’t make her understand? The most frightening notion reared its head, turned him cold. What if he lost her?

And what about Trey? He was fifteen now, but that was still so young. He would do anything to keep his son from hurting. Or worse, from hating him. The agony of that was like a sucker punch, swift, strong and painful.

But he was beyond tired of hurting.

He had to come clean, and soon. He was a good father. He was a good husband. His love for his family was absolute. Maybe they would understand.

And he could stop hurting.

He stood to his full height, let out one final, weary sigh, then sucked in a deep, steadying breath and straightened his shoulders. He pressed the buzzer, pasted on a smile, and waited for her to open the door.

The lingering heat grabbed him by the chest and squeezed, and even though they’d already been there for hours, Trey wasn’t quite ready to leave. The lights around the ball field flickered on slowly, one by one. Ugly grey moths dove into the yellow bulbs, swooped out, flew back in.

“Okay, champ, now go wide.”

Dad tossed a short pass, aimed about six feet to his left. He cut sharply, caught the ball in his chest, tucked it close against his side.

Dad shot him a thumbs-up and lifted his voice to be heard from forty yards away. “Good job, champ. Almost perfect.”

He fired back a wobble ball.

Dad got in formation, swung into the imaginary pocket and threw a perfect long spiral. “You all set for the weekend?”

It was his parents’ anniversary this weekend—fifteen years—and they were leaving for Sedona the next day after work. His dad liked to joke that they were married for like five minutes before he was conceived, but he happened to know for a fact they were doing it before they got married. They didn’t know he knew, but he heard them talking one night a few years ago, when they thought he was asleep.

He hauled ass to get to the ball and snagged it out of the air. “Sure thing. Aunt Maddie’s going to pick me up with Jax after practice.” Ha, hardly winded even after that sprint. Coach already started two-a-days, and they were a bitch, but they sure got you back in shape fast.

Again his throw back to his dad was weak, which was why Jax was the quarterback and he was a running back. Jax couldn’t run for shit, but they both made varsity for next year, so they were cool.