Your Bed or Mine? (25 page)

And yes, it was a nice collar.

But is Rick freaking kidding me?

Here I am,
waiting for my whole world to crumble.

And he’s talking about a present he brought home for Simon!

But Zada forced herself to say, “Yes. The collar really looks great.”

He walked in her direction.

Zada couldn’t interpret the look on his face.

Only that it was serious.

“I brought you a present, too,” he said.

Rick reached out and took her hand.

Zada gasped when he slipped a ring on her finger.

“We never got around to the ring part,” he said. “We got married on a whim. And then after we were married, you kept insisting
you didn’t like rings. But we both knew why you were stalling. We were having so many problems, you didn’t think we were going
to make it.”

Zada looked up at him, tears in her eyes.

“I hope this ring shows you how much I love you, Zada. And how sorry I am for being such an ass last night. Can you forgive
me?”

Zada kept staring at the diamond on her finger.

If the size of the diamond determined how much Rick loved her—he loved her a lot!

Tears were streaming down her face now.

“Angel,” he said, pulling her to him. “Don’t cry.”

“Women always cry,” Zada sobbed against his shoulder. “Tears are all tied up in our emotions. We cry when we’re happy. We
cry when we’re sad. Sometimes we cry just because we need to cry.”

Rick bent down and kissed the tears away.

“These are happy tears, I hope,” he said.

“I can’t even tell you how happy,” Zada told him.

She held out her hand and looked at her finger again.

“This is the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.”

“I really am sorry about last night,” Rick said.

Zada reached up and put her fingers to his lips.

“Forgotten,” she told him.

“I agree,” Rick said. “But I want you to call the phone company tomorrow and request a private number.”

“I’m so glad you said that,” Zada told him. “I wanted to suggest it last night, but I was afraid I’d sound guilty.”

“I’m not suggesting we get a private number because I think you’re guilty, Zada,” Rick said. “I just refuse to let the joker
making the phone calls get his kicks at our expense.”

He pulled her to him and hugged her close.

She was tempted to tell Rick she and the girls suspected Alicia, but decided against it. They had weathered this storm together.
She wasn’t about to tip the lifeboat now.

“I didn’t expect you home so early,” Zada said. “Can I get you anything?”

Rick moved his eyebrows up and down.

“How about another lap dance?”

Zada was still laughing as he carried her out of the kitchen, down the hallway, and straight up the staircase.

W
ithout the threat of another phone call hanging over their heads, Zada and Rick settled into a routine of total peace and
harmony. Compromise was becoming a simple fact of life for them.

Days slipped into weeks.

Now, they were approaching what Tish called their one month simultaneous orgasm anniversary.

Zada’s road to happiness was no longer under construction. All of the potholes had been filled in. And she found herself sitting
on easy street.

Life was good.

Everyone was happy.

Well, maybe not everyone.

Zada thought this as she hooked Simon’s leash to his collar and headed out the kitchen door for their morning walk.

Alicia had avoided them like the plague since the Sunday she and Rick received the hang-up phone calls. She’d even turned
Tish down flat to come over for coffee one morning.

Tish’s ulterior motive, of course, had been to show Alicia Zada’s new ring. Let Alicia see for herself that if she had made
the phone calls, her plan to cause trouble between them hadn’t worked at all.

Alicia had claimed she was on her way out that morning, which rang a false note. Since her divorce, Alicia rarely went anywhere.
And everyone in the neighborhood knew it.

They’d been surprised when Alicia did go out that morning—a fact they’d confirmed a few minutes after Tish hung up the phone.
The three of them were again standing at Tish’s dining room window, watching as Alicia drove away.

Zada liked to think Alicia had given up, and had accepted the fact she and Rick were back together. But despite protests from
her and from Jen, watchdog Tish had continued to monitor Alicia’s comings and goings on a daily basis. Tish was fully convinced
Alicia had been staying away from home as much as possible, because she was up to more mischief.

“You can’t let your guard down where Alicia is concerned, Zada,” Tish kept insisting. “Alicia’s still fuming over us standing
her up, and don’t think she isn’t. I don’t trust that witch. And you shouldn’t, either. Not even for one minute.”

Zada kept insisting Tish should drop it.

Alicia simply wasn’t worth the worry.

Besides, Zada had other things to worry about.

Like the snag she’d run into with her new book.

Zada led Simon toward the walking path, aware that one of the main reasons she was having trouble with the book was because
Miss Neighborhood Organizer Tish kept interrupting her writing time obsessing over the annual neighborhood Fourth of July
party. They were having the party this weekend on Saturday, though the Fourth fell on the following Monday this year.

The closer it got to the party, the more frantic Tish became.

And since it was Wednesday—only three days away from the party—Zada had decided to do the unthinkable and skip morning coffee
with Tishzilla and Jen.

Being assigned yet another new errand was not on her list of things to do today. Taking a long walk with Simon so she could
sort out the problem with her book was Zada’s Wednesday morning mission.

She walked along with Simon, deep in thought.

Her big dilemma?

How to correctly portray that pollution kills innocent wildlife without angry parents suing her later when their scarred-for-life
children ended up in therapy.

Simon’s low growl jerked her out of the book.

And right back to reality.

A guy was walking in their direction, less than fifty feet away. He was no one Zada knew, but he was nicely dressed, tall,
dark and handsome—the kind of guy she would have been attracted to in her pre-Rick days.

Simon growled again, causing her to put her own guard up.

Zada glanced to her left.

When she saw a party of four on the golf course, she breathed a little easier. The men were on the putting green, in full
view. Which also meant if she could see them, they could see her and the stranger who was almost on top of her now.

“Good morning,” the guy said when he reached her.

Zada nodded and stopped walking.

The second she stopped, Simon sat down obediently. He didn’t growl this time—sensing she wasn’t afraid.

“Nice dog,” the guy said, looking down at Simon.

“Thanks,” Zada told him.

“My wife and I have been looking at a house over on Woodberry Way,” he said. “I’m checking out the golf course this morning.
You know us guys, first things first.”

Zada laughed. “You just described my husband to a ‘T,’” Zada said. “No pun intended.”

The guy laughed. “Have you and your husband been happy here in Woodberry Park?”

“Yes,” Zada said. “We love it here.”

He leaned toward her suddenly, touching her hair.

Startled, Zada jumped back.

Simon growled low and mean and lunged for him.

“Whoa!” the guy said, jumping back out of Simon’s reach. He held up a caterpillar. “Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.
You just had a hitchhiker in your hair.”

Embarrassed, Zada apologized.

He shrugged, waved, and headed down the path.

As an afterthought, Zada called out, “Hey, we’re having our annual Woodberry Park Fourth of July party at the clubhouse on
Saturday. You and your wife should come.”

“Thanks,” he yelled back. “We’ll do that.”

Sheesh,
Zada thought as the poor guy disappeared up the path. The whole situation with the phone calls, and with Tish playing super-sleuth
day and night, was making her some kind of paranoid.

Still, Zada reached down and gave Simon a proud pat on the head. “Good boy,” she told him.

She’d said it before, and she’d say it again: If there was anyone she could depend on, it was Simon.

“Thank God it’s Friday,” Rick said when Scrappy walked up beside him.

“Amen to that,” Scrappy agreed.

They were standing on the sidelines, watching their soon-to-be-graduated recruits lead their dogs around the obstacle course
for the last time that day.

“I still think you should come help me out at the Fourth of July party tomorrow,” Rick told him.

“And you’re entitled to your
wrong
opinion,” Scrappy said. “But while you’re trying to keep a bunch of screaming kids from putting each other’s eyes out with
those sparklers you bought, I’ll be kicked back with a brewski in one hand and the remote in the other, watching the tube
and enjoying the peace and quiet.”

“Wiseass,” Rick said.

Scrappy grinned. “I am a wiseass. That’s why I’m not stupid enough to go to some neighborhood party.”

“Did you pick up the mail?”

“Just got back,” Scrappy said. “I had to sign for one of the envelopes. Probably those contracts you’ve been waiting on from
Bill Harris. Thought I’d come and wrap things up while you go over the mail.”

“Thanks,” Rick told him.

Scrappy said, “I’ll take the recruits back to the classroom after we finish here. Thought you might want to thank them for
a job well done this week, before you send them off for the long Fourth of July weekend.”

“You can say that again,” Rick said.

“What?”

“‘Long Fourth of July weekend,’” Rick said. “I’m really looking forward to three days off.”

“You’re getting slack on me, Rick,” Scrappy grumbled. “There was a day when you would have been at the center even on the
Fourth of July.”

“Those days are gone,” Rick said. “I finally realized how much I wanted a life with my wife.”

“Better you than me,” Scrappy told him.

Rick laughed and started for his office.

“I put the mail on your desk,” Scrappy called after him.

Rick threw up his hand and started up the stairs.

A few minutes later, Rick flopped down onto the chair behind his desk, and began sifting through the mail. He came to the
large envelope on the bottom of the stack and put everything else aside. He was reaching for the letter opener when the telephone
rang. Rick picked up the receiver, held it between his shoulder and his chin, and punched the blinking light.

“Security Detection Services. Rick Clark speaking.”

Rick sliced through the top of the envelope.

“Hey, Bill. Talk about perfect timing. I just got my first chance to look at the mail today. And I think I’m getting ready
to open the envelope with your contracts.”

Rick reached into the envelope.

“Really?” Rick said. “Okay. Then I’ll look for the contracts the first of next week, Bill. Thanks for calling to let me know
you’re mailing them today.”

Rick put the phone back in the cradle, and pulled the contents out of the envelope. Forty-five minutes later, he was still
staring at the eight-by-ten glossy color photograph he was holding in his hand.

Scrappy stuck his head around the door.

“The recruits are waiting. Did you get lost or something, Rick?”

“Or something,” Rick said.

Scrappy walked into the office.

Rick handed him the photo.

“Son of a bitch!” Scrappy said.

“My thoughts exactly,” said Rick.

He’d told Scrappy about the phone calls. Surprisingly, Scrappy had been the one to advise him to get a private telephone number
and put the past behind them.

Rick almost laughed.

It was hard to put the past behind you when it was staring you in the face.

“Same as the phone calls, Rick,” Scrappy said. “The past is the past. This picture could have been taken before you went back
home.”

“Great theory,” Rick said. “Except for Simon’s new SDS collar.”

“Son of a bitch!” Scrappy said again.

“Maybe we should count the door prizes again.”

“Tish!” Zada said. “We’ve counted the door prizes twice already. We have more than enough prizes for the games we’ll be playing
tomorrow.”

“Okay, okay,” Tish said. “I just don’t want anyone to be left out.”

Zada looked at Jen.

Jen looked at Zada.

Jen said, “You go through this every year, Tish. We never run out of anything. And to my knowledge, no one has ever been left
out.”

“Get a grip on reality, why don’t you?” Zada threw in.

“Reality’s for people who can’t handle drugs,” Tish said, already counting the prizes again.

“Then maybe you should up your Prozac,” Jen mentioned.

“I agree,” Zada said. “Either up your medication, or share your Prozac with me. But do something, Tish. I can’t take much
more of your hysterics.”

Tish glanced out her kitchen window, then back at Zada.

“And I can’t take much more of you and Rick.”

Zada blinked. “Excuse me?”

Tish pointed to the window. “Rick. Home early again. Probably to bring you another fabulous present.”

Zada walked to the window in time to see the Hummer disappear into her garage.

“I agree with Tish,” Jen said. “This coming home early and showing up with fancy presents is starting to piss me off. In fact,
I might just sucker punch Charlie when he walks through the door tonight.”

“I bet he has my pearls back from the jeweler,” Zada said happily. “Poor baby. He felt so bad after he broke them. I ask,
is my husband a sweetheart? Or is my husband a sweetheart?”

“You’re seriously making me gag here,” Tish grumbled.

Zada smiled an eat-your-heart-out smile.

She bowed dramatically to Jen and Tish.