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  Turning back to her friend, Casey poured her some more coffee, inhaling the scent wistfully and said, “Tell me.”

  “First you have to understand, Jake really thought he loved the woman.”

  Silly that those words could sting. Of course he’d believed he was in love. He’d married the woman, after all. Casey smiled to herself. That didn’t prove a thing. He’d married her, too. And seemed determined to prove that he didn’tlove her.

  “Frankly,” Annie went on, licking icing from her fingertip, “I never did understand what he saw in the woman. She had mean eyes.”

  Casey grinned and patted her friend’s arm. “Thanks. Now, what happened?”

  “Simple enough.” Annie picked up her coffee cup with both hands. Squeezing the Star Trek memorial mug tightly, she muttered, “He came home early one afternoon and found dear Linda in bed with a BMW salesman from Reno.”

  “What?”

  “Yep.” Annie’s lips thinned angrily at the memory. “He stood outside his own bedroom door and listened to his wife tell her lover that he shouldn’t be worried about her husband finding out. She said Jake was such an idiot for love. He’d forgive her anything.”

  Good Lord. Emotions raced through Casey, each of them demanding to be recognized. Anger, primarily. At Linda for hurting Jake so. But sympathy for Jake, who’d been so deeply wounded, quickly took precedence.

  No wonder he didn’t want to talk about love. No wonder he couldn’t bring himself to care openly for her. He’d tried it once and had his heart handed back to him in pieces.

  “Yeah, it was really ugly for a while,” Annie said, and Casey’s gaze shot up to meet hers. “But you know, I finally figured out that he couldn’t really have loved that bitch.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He was more furious than hurt. Oh, no doubt, he considers himself lanced to the core.” Annie nodded. “Most men tend to attribute gallons more blood than necessary to any wound, no matter how slight.”

  “Slight?” Casey felt as though she should leap up and defend her husband’s right to bleed.

  “I’m not saying he wasn’t hurt,” Annie went on. “Only that it was more like he was embarrassed. For letting himself be such a fool for the wrong woman.”

  Propping one elbow on the table and cupping her hand in her chin, Casey muttered thoughtfully, “So now he won’t be a fool for anywoman.”

  “Hey, he’ll come around.” Annie shrugged. “Eventually.”

  “I’m not so sure.” Casey straightened, reached for a second cinnamon roll and broke it apart before laying it down on her plate. “And why should he?”

  “Huh?”

  “Well, look at it from his side. He’s got a wife. A baby on the way. He knows I love him, but doesn’t want to hear about it. He’s determined we will have a nice civilized marriage without any of the bother of love.”

  “Ooh.” Annie shuddered. “Sounds cozy.”

  “Yeah, and I’ve been going along with it.”

  “Are you nuts?”

  “Mommy,” Lisa called from the living room, “I hafta go potty again.”

  “You go on then, honey. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “No, I’m not nuts,” Casey said, and took a bite of the pastry. She chewed quickly, swallowed and said, “Not anymore, anyway. Dammit, Annie, I’ve seena civilized marriage. Up close and personal.”

  Her friend winced in sympathy, and Casey looked away. She knew Annie understood. She’d visited often enough during their growing-up years to see the cool tension between Henderson and Hilary Oakes. Casey’s parents had had a so-called successful marriage based on wealth, a love of travel and a closed eye to indiscretions.

  But she, Casey, had always dreamed of more. Those dreams had comforted her through long lonely nights and fed her fantasies for years. Most of those fantasies, at least since the time she was fifteen, she admitted silently, had revolved around Jake.

  Now she had the chance to make her dreams come true. All she had to do was somehow convince Jake that she really did love him. And that it was safe for him to love her.

  “Mommy.” Lisa’s voice sounded muffled, faraway. “I’m done.”

  Casey grinned. How did a child manage to put three syllables into a word like “done”?

  Annie sighed and stood up. “Get used to the sound of that,” she said with a short laugh. “It’ll be your turn soon enough.”

  Alone at the table, Casey sat back in her chair and glanced at the local newspaper. The front-page headline of the Simpson Salutationread: HARRY BIGGS WINS CHURCH RAFFLE. And in smaller type, just beneath it: WIFE STUNNED.

  She chuckled and picked up the newspaper to read about Harry Biggs’s prize. Apparently just about anything could make headlines in a small-town daily.

  A smile eased up Casey’s features as she stared blankly at the pages in her hand.

  She had an idea.

  Three days later what she hoped would be the answer to her marital problems lay unopened on the kitchen table. She glanced at the neatly folded newspaper and smiled. It would work, she told herself.

  It had to work.

  Turning her mind back to the business at hand, she looked down at the pan on the stove and started stirring the contents. Boiling frantically, the mixture of lemon juice and granulated sugar frothed up the sides of the pan. She whisked the bubbles into submission again and again, then scowled when someone knocked on the front door.

  Glancing at Stumbles, her fearless protector, Casey laughed. The dog, sound asleep under the kitchen table, hadn’t even flinched at the sound.

  She glanced down at the filling for her lemon-meringue pie and grimaced. If she took it off the fire now, it would be ruined. If she left it to go answer the door, it would boil over and the kitchen would be a sea of lemony sugar.

  Hoping against hope a serial killer wouldn’t be so polite as to knock on the door, she hollered, “Come in!”

  Keeping the whisk moving rapidly through the frothy mixture, she locked her gaze on the entryway, waiting.

  “Casey?”

  A deep voice. One she hadn’t heard in quite a while. One she’d expected to hear say, “I do,” not so very long ago.

  Steven.

  “Casey?” he called again. “Where are you?”

  She cleared her throat, swallowed, then said, “In here.”

  He stepped into her line of vision through the kitchen doorway and stopped. His gaze shot to hers, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. Finally he broke the silence.

  “Can I come in?”

  “You’re in already.” Taking a deep breath, she told herself there was no point in being nasty. Besides, if she was honest about the whole thing, she was grateful he’d jilted her. If he hadn’t taken off for Mexico, she might not have found her way back to Jake. In that spirit she smiled and nodded. “Come on in, Steven.”

  He seemed to relax then and crossed the main room tugging a muffler from his neck and opening his overcoat as he moved to join her in the kitchen. He looked good. Tanned from his escape to Mexico, his skin was the color of polished brass. Neither as big nor as handsome as Jake, Steven Miller still managed to make female hearts flutter.

  Soft brown hair waved back from a high forehead, and his dark brown eyes watched her warily. Dressed in a black overcoat, steel gray suit with a white shirt and a boldly striped red power tie, he looked completely out of place in the homey kitchen, and just as uneasy.

  “Oh, relax,” she said. She couldn’t stand to see him waiting for a blow that wasn’t coming. “I’m not going to hit you.”

  “Not that I’d blame you any,” he said with a wry grin. “But I appreciate your restraint.”

  “What are you doing here, Steven?” And why today? The day she wanted to gather her thoughts for a confrontation with Jake.

  “When I got back from Mexico, my mother told me where to find you.”

  “That’s howyou got here. Not why.”

  “Right.” He ducked his head, peek
ed into the pan she was still stirring, then straightened and paced the length of the room. He stopped by the fogged-over kitchen windows. When there was a good ten feet separating them, he went on, “I guess I just had to see for myself that you were all right.”

  “I am now,” she said. “I wasn’t when I got your note.”

  He winced and stooped to pet Stumbles, the traitor, who was busy slobbering all over Steven’s snow-dusted Gucci loafers. “I amsorry about that, Casey.”

  “That’s something, I suppose.” She whipped the lemony foam a little more quickly, surprised there was still a small corner of her that was angry at him for what he’d done.

  “Look, I tried to talk to you the night before the wedding.”

  “What?”

  “I called your parents’ house. Talked to your father.” He straightened again, frowning at the slobber on his tassles. “I told him I had to talk to you, but he kept insisting you were not to be disturbed.”

  Her father? But he hadn’t told herSteven had called.

  “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

  “That you called? No.” She shook her head, denying the cold unsettling feeling creeping into her chest. For some reason, she knew she wasn’t going to like whatever else it was he’d come to say.

  “Not just that,” Steven said softly. “He didn’t tell you I wouldn’t be at the church.”

  Her world rocked a bit. Her fingers tightened on the handle of the pan. The knot in her chest tightened until it threatened to choke off her air. Her own father had known her groom wasn’t going to put in an appearance at the church. Why hadn’t he said anything? Why had he allowed her to go through with it? To be humiliated in front of hundreds of people. She wanted to ask all those questions aloud. She wanted to demand answers to everything. But all she could manage was, “He knew?”

  “Yeah, he knew. I told him I couldn’t go through with it.” Steven pushed one hand through his hair, and Casey absently noted that it fell right back into place. “I also told him I didn’t think youwanted to get married, either.” He glanced around the kitchen and smiled sheepishly. “At least, not to me.”

  “I didn’t,” she said, and was surprised that her voice worked.

  Steven rushed on, barely nodding to acknowledge her statement. “You know your father. He just brushed it all off. Said it was last-minute jitters and I should just show up on time and the marriage would take care of itself.” Steven glanced at her and she saw real regret and shame on his features. “I really thought he would tell you, Casey. I never expected you to be there at the church. Waiting.”

  It sounded like her father, all right. Of course he wouldn’t have believed Steven. He never would have believed that someone from their social circle would ruin a carefully arranged and planned wedding. How like Henderson Oakes not to even mention to his daughter the possibility of being jilted.

  She felt color rise in her cheeks. “But you were there. You left a note for me.”

  “Yeah. I drove past the church and saw all the cars. Then I knew that he hadn’t said anything.” Her ex-fiancé took a few steps closer and stopped. “So I pulled into the parking lot long enough to slip a note to one of my ushers.”

  “You couldn’t come and see me personally?”

  “I should have.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed, and turned the fire off. Carrying the pan to the counter where the pie crust was ready and waiting, she poured the mixture in and said, “But I almost understand why you didn’t.” She got cold chills just thinking about how her parents and his would have reacted to an in-person announcement.

  It had been bad enough watching the Oakeses and Millers glaring at each other, each couple blaming the other for the disaster that was their children. If Steven had actually been there, the shouting and the humiliation would have been twice as difficult to bear.

  “So,” he said, glancing around the house, “are you happy? Mom told me you got married.”

  “And pregnant.”

  Two light brown eyebrows lifted.

  “I’m veryhappy, Steven,” she said. “Actually I ought to thank you. I won’t,” she added, “but I should.”

  “I’m glad, Casey.” He laughed to fill an awkward silence. “Relieved, too.”

  She walked up to him and gave him a hug. “You’re forgiven, Steven. Relax.”

  He nodded, then locking his arms around her waist, lifted her off the floor and squeezed her gently. “He’s a lucky guy,” he said with a chuckle.

  Steven’s laughter choked off when the back door flew open and crashed against the kitchen wall.

  “Damn right,” Jake said.

  Twelve

  Casey’s feet hit the floor jarringly enough to rattle her teeth. She looked up at Jake and realized she’d never seen him so angry. Splotches of red, caused not entirely by the cold, stained his cheeks, and his eyes flashed as he looked from Steven to her and back again.

  “Goddammit, get your hands off my wife!” Blind with pain, Jake felt like throwing his head back and howling with the rage boiling through him.

  “It’s not what you think,” the man said.

  “Calm down, Jake.” Casey faced him, meeting his gaze squarely. “You’re acting like a nut.” Hurriedly she closed the kitchen door to shut out the frigid air.

  Shewas criticizing hisbehavior?

  The other man spoke again. “Look. Maybe I’d better just introduce myself and we can start over.” He extended his right hand. “My name’s Steven Miller.”

  Steven.

  Jake shot a look at Casey and read her expression easily enough. Glancing back at the expensively dressed man, he gave himself over to the pulse-pounding anger throbbing within. He had never before really known what it meant when people said they were so angry they “saw red.” Until now. It wasn’t bad enough that he had againwalked into his own house and found his wife in the arms of another man. No, this time, it had to be theother man. The man she had intended to marry.

  Pain, white-hot and insistent, shimmered inside him. Before he knew what he was doing, he took a single step forward, batted the man’s hand out of his way and slammed his fist into his jaw.

  Jake felt the satisfying thud all the way up his arm. He watched with grim vindication as the intruder staggered backward into the table. The man’s fall knocked an unfinished lemon pie to the floor, crust and filling splashed across the tiles. Stumbles shot out from under the table and rushed for the fallen goodies. The man wobbled unsteadily and dropped to the floor, one hand clapped to his jaw.

  It was only then that Jake turned to look at his wife again. His heart hammered in his chest. His brain raced. His blood was still boiling. Despite his fears, he’d never really expected Casey to cheat on him. Nor had he expected the depth of pain betrayal would bring.

  What he had lived through at Linda’s hands seemed insignificant in comparison. This pain stabbed at him. Slashed at him. Every moment that passed only made the ache worse.

  “Are you out of your mind?” Casey shouted.

  “What?” His breathing labored, he stared at her. What did shehave to be angry about?

  Bending down, she helped the other man to his feet. It didn’t make Jake feel any better to notice that the guy carefully kept his distance from Casey once he was standing.

  “Why did you hit him?” she demanded.

  “Why was he holding mywife?”

  “It was a hug, Jake. Just a hug.” She waved one hand at the mess on the floor being slurped up by a happy dog. “I was baking a pie, Jake. This is the kitchen, for God’s sake. Not the bedroom.”

  He lifted one black eyebrow, silently demanding that she remember the time he and she had used the kitchen as a trysting place.

  She flushed, and he knew the memory had come to her.

  “I know what I saw, Casey.” Why couldn’t she understand what it had felt like to see her in someone else’s arms?

  “You saw what you’ve been expecting to see.” She lifted her chin and looked him dead in the
eye. “You’ve been waiting for something like this since the day we got married.”

  “What?” Had she known all along what was going through his mind?

  “You didn’t think I knew, did you?”

  He sighed. “Annie.”

  “Yes, Annie. Your sistertold me everything that youshould have told me.”

  His chest tightened. He hadn’t wanted her to know. Hadn’t wanted Casey to know that his ex-wife had thought so little of him that she had flaunted her lovers in his own house. Jesus, what kind of thing was that for a man to know about himself? Did she really think he would want to tell her?

  “There was no reason for you to know about Linda. It had nothing to do with us.” He folded his arms across his chest in an unconscious but useless attempt to hold his heart in place.

  “Nothing to do with us?” Casey moved forward then stopped again.

  “Excuse me,” Steven said from his position behind her. “Perhaps I should be leaving.”

  “Shut up,” Jake said.

  “Shut up,” Casey snapped at the same time.

  Steven shrugged and turned to watch the gorging dog.

  “How can you say what happened with Linda has nothing to do with us?” Casey demanded.

  “It happened a long time ago,” Jake said.

  “And what happened then has colored everything that has passed between us.”

  “Casey—”

  “No, let’s get it said. Finally let’s get it said.”

  Jake flinched away from the sheen of tears he saw sparkling in her eyes. His entire body ached with the urge to run from the room. To put the pain aside. To forget seeing Casey in Steven’s arms and just go back to the way things had been between them.

  In a last-ditch attempt to postpone the inevitable, he said as much. “Stop, Casey. Stop now. We can forget all about what happened today.”