Page 50 of Risk of a Lifetime
“What are you looking for?”
“A damn pen.” She slammed the drawer closed. “I need a pen to sign the papers. That way, you’ll have to go before you get hurt because of me.”
What made her bring this up now? He sure as heck didn’t know, but now wasn’t the time to argue. Plus, he damn sure didn’t intend to leave the house without her. So divorced or not was a moot point at the moment.
He walked over, picked up the divorce papers, flipped to the signature page, and carefully ripped out the area with his signature. Looked at her blank line and ripped it out, too. “Now you don’t need a pen.”
“What the heck do you think you’re doing?” Marcy’s voice raised at least an octave as he placed her signature section in her hand.
He tore the divorce papers in half, then half again before placing them back in the envelope. “If you want a divorce, looks like you’ll have to process the papers again.” He ripped his signature into shreds before wadding it in a ball and shoving it in his coin pocket where Marcy’s ring had permanent residence.
She stomped down the hall. “I’m not going with you.”
JB followed. “Yes you are.”
“Why? Why do you want me to go?” She leaned back against the wall. “You don’t even want to be here.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“On the phone. At the sheriff’s office.” Disappointment and anger filled her voice. “I heard you say you had to stay here until you got the mess with me figured out.”
“Is that what this is all about? What I said to Wilson?” He grinned, tilted her chin up. “Are you my wife?”
She nodded.
“Do you agree the shooting, the bomb, your brakes, and everything else is a mess?”
She nodded again. “What about the staying until it’s settled? When this is over, you’ll leave…I don’t want to…feel like that again.” Hiccups jerked her head like an animated bobble-head.
His insides warmed with the thought she still loved him. Might not be enough to keep them together, but she at least cared what happened to him.
He sighed heavily. They should be concentrating on surviving the night, not rehashing the past. He wouldn’t lie. He hadn’t come back to Crayton for her. He also wouldn’t lie to himself. He still cared. Might even care more than he wanted to admit. But, this wasn’t the time or the place to rationalize what that might mean.
Hooking his thumbs in his jean pockets, he tried to say what needed to be said without making any long-term commitments. “Doesn’t matter if we stay here or if we go someplace else, I plan to protect you to the end. Not because you’re an obligation. Or because you’re just another assignment, so to say. I’m here because I want to be. Because I care about you. I care a lot.”
“No. No.” She shook her head. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be treating me like I’m nothing but a friend.”
“Now, what does that mean?” Raking his fingers through his hair, he tried to keep up with her assumptions. And listen for the beep if the audio detection device sounded.
Her body seemed to sink into the wall instead of against it. She wouldn’t meet his eyes with hers. “You know.”
That was the problem, he didn’t know. Had no idea. First, they were still married. Now, they were supposed to be friends. What the—? “Help me out, Marcy. What am I supposed to know?”
She straightened away from the wall and marched to the kitchen, arms braced on her hips. “You haven’t kissed me once.”
“Yes, I have.”
Sure, they hadn’t been the kisses he ached to give her, because he’d promised himself he’d stay on good behavior. Keep his lips and his hands to himself. Much more of this, though, and his good behavior could go rot in hell. No, this wasn’t the time. The phone might ring and they’d have to go. Of course, they were all packed. And the sheriff still hadn’t called.
“You call kissing me on the top of my head a real kiss?” She pointed to the spot, then regained her previous posture. “Or that peck on my cheek, my forehead? Those aren’t the kisses I remember. That’s how you’d kiss a sister…if you had one.”
She was about to come undone, and his insides reacted with anticipation. Even in her agitated moods, the woman could take him places his willpower couldn’t block. Been a long time since she’d come undone in his arms. He relished the thought of holding her as she gave him her emotions, body, and soul. Everything.
He stepped forward, and she stepped back, landing against the counter. His next step pressed them jeans to jeans, body to body. Then he leaned in, bracing his arms on each side of her. His hardness to her softness. “Does that feel like I think you’re my sister?”
Her intake of breath answered his question even before she shook her head. He couldn’t stop himself from tilting into her even more. His mind had no control over his hands as they slid around to her backside and pressed her against him. Closer and closer. He groaned when she squirmed into him. She blushed, bit her lip, and then something flamed in her gaze.
“For the record, I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since you walked out of that bank the day I got to town.” He brushed his fingers across the parted lips in front of him.
