6 Rainier Drive (22 page)

Teri giggled, suddenly so happy she wanted to sing—and she had a terrible voice. Whenever she broke into song, the dogs in the neighborhood joined in. Using a special phone Bobby handed her, she called Rachel, telling her she'd been right about
everything
. She also asked if Rachel would cover for her the next few days and promised to keep in touch.

As she hung up the receiver, she thought of something else. “I don't have any form of birth control, either.”

His smile faded and an adoring look stole over his face. “I'd like to get you pregnant,” he said softly. “With your wide hips, you should have an easy birth.”

The man said the most outrageous things! “Fine. Then,
you
can go through labor.”

“I would if it was possible. I don't think I could stand to see you suffer.”

Was it any wonder she loved him? “Okay, but there's one little fact you should know. No child of mine's going to have the smarts to be a chess champion.”

He accepted that without argument. “Good. I want my child to live a more normal life than I have.”

When they landed in Vegas nearly three hours later, they were ushered into another limo and driven down the Strip. Teri opened the sunroof and stood with her head and arms out, yelling to the crowds at the top of her lungs.
“I'm getting married!”
she screeched, waving madly and flashing her diamond.

A minister was waiting for them in the penthouse suite of a posh casino hotel. The room was filled with flowers, all white. Everything was ready. All Teri had to do was sign the paperwork and show her identification.

Then she and Bobby exchanged vows. James was the witness. Two minutes after the ceremony, they were alone. Bobby kissed her again. “Can I make love to you now?” he asked.

He was so sincere, so sweet. She nodded. “Please.”

Bobby led her into the bedroom, looking a bit self-conscious. He turned off the light.

All at once, Teri was nervous. She was no novice to bedroom antics. As one of her loser boyfriends had said, she'd been around the block more often than the mailman. While she wasn't happy about her past, she wasn't ashamed, either. But just then, she would've given everything she had in this world to have come to her husband a virgin.

Whatever fears and regrets she had faded the instant Bobby took her in his arms.

He was gentle, as she knew he would be, and generous and tender. For her, it might as well have been the first time because that was how he made her feel. Lying in his arms, she wept silently. He kissed her tears away and explored her body with his hands and lips, between the sweetest and most exquisite of kisses.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“Do you think I gave you a baby?” he asked.

“Hmm.” Teri considered his question. “I'm not sure. Maybe we should try again.”

Bobby laughed and she thought she'd never heard him sound this happy. That thrilled her, knowing she was capable of pleasing him.

In the wee hours, she woke to find Bobby leaning on one elbow staring down at her. With his index finger, he outlined the shape of her eyebrow. Teri smiled up at him.

“Can we…again?” he asked shyly.

Her smile widened, and she threw her arms around his neck, and let him know she had absolutely no objections.

They slept late, only to be awakened by James pounding on the door, announcing that Bobby was needed downstairs.

At the noise, Bobby leaped out of bed, glanced at the clock and searched frantically for his pants. “I'm late.”

“You have a match this morning?” For modesty's sake, Teri pulled up the sheet to cover her naked breasts. She dropped it. There was no reason to be shy with Bobby. Her husband had spent plenty of time holding, touching and kissing her breasts the night before.

“I have a tournament here.” He jerked up his pants and scrabbled around for his socks and shoes.

“This morning?”

“Yes. At nine.” He found his shirt and buttoned it crookedly. She crawled across the bed and refastened it for him. “I don't want to go. I'm sorry,” he told her.

“Me, too. My favorite time to make love is in the morning.”

His eyes widened. “Stay here,” he said, his voice husky. He cleared his throat and spoke again. “I'll be back. Soon.”

“But…”

He pointed at her and at the bed, and stammered, “Please. Order breakfast, have a…have a shower, but…don't leave this room.”

“I won't,” she promised. “Is the match televised?”

“Yes.” He dragged in a deep breath.

“Come here,” she said, kneeling at the foot of the bed.

James knocked again but Bobby moved toward
Teri. Wrapping her arms around her husband's neck, she kissed him in a way that guaranteed his return. “That was for luck.”

Bobby's breathing went shallow, and he backed out of the room.

Teri ordered coffee, which arrived when she'd finished her shower. She located the television remote, and after flipping through various channels, found the station broadcasting the live chess match. The commentator was talking about Bobby, and Teri sat up in bed, sipping coffee, listening as the highlights of her husband's illustrious career were described.
Husband
—oh, that word had a wonderful sound.

She watched as Bobby faced his opponent, a well-known Russian player, according to the commentator. Teri had never heard of him but that wasn't saying much.

Twenty moves later, the game was over. The audience was stunned. When Bobby stood up to leave, the man who'd been commenting on the game tried to interview him. Shaking his head, Bobby walked directly past him. He simply marched out of the room. Five minutes later, Teri heard the door to their suite open.

Bobby already had his shirt off by the time he made it into the bedroom. He stood at the end of the bed, and his eyes glowed with warmth as he smiled at her.

She repeated what the television commentator had announced. “Bobby Polgar just made chess history.”

“I hurried.”

Teri held her arms open. “How long before the next game?”

“An hour,” he said, frowning.

“That's enough time,” she assured him.

His smile was back.

Bobby Polgar, husband of Teri Miller Polgar, continued to make chess history for the rest of that week. Without explanation, he disappeared after each match and arrived late for several of them. Refusing all interviews, he was less social and more reclusive than he'd been since entering the international chess arena. Speculation ran rampant.

Teri didn't leave the suite for five days. She had everything she could want or need at her fingertips. In fact, she had more than she'd ever dreamed possible.

“I'
d like to talk to you a moment,” Seth said after a silent dinner on Wednesday evening. They hadn't mentioned the subject of the restaurant since last Friday, although it loomed between them. He hadn't said any more about her idea for a tearoom, and Justine hadn't brought it up. She was so bitterly disappointed in her husband that she could barely look at him. He'd acted as though her ideas and suggestions meant nothing. What hurt even more was that Seth hadn't told her about his ideas, either. He'd just moved forward without her.

“All right,” she murmured, turning away from the sink. They'd spoken very little for the past five days, exchanging only mundane remarks about Leif's needs. They still slept in the same bed, but as far from each other as possible, and they never went upstairs at the same time.

Seth had been avoiding her. He put in long hours at work. At least she assumed that was where he spent his time. For all she knew, he could've been in meetings with a builder and broken ground. Sad to say, she wasn't privy to her husband's plans.

Drying her hands on a dish towel, she glanced into the living room and saw that Leif was putting together a puzzle, Penny curled up beside him. He'd be content for a few more minutes. Pulling out a kitchen chair, she sat down while Seth poured himself a cup of coffee.

Instead of joining her at the table, he remained standing, leaning against the counter. Justine felt at a disadvantage, sitting while he stood, but didn't have the energy to get up.

“I owe you an apology,” Seth admitted, surprising her. “I didn't take this tearoom idea of yours seriously. I should've given it more consideration and I didn't. Instead, I went ahead with my plans to rebuild—without discussing them with you first.”

Justine kept her eyes lowered. “I didn't even know you'd made any plans, Seth. It was a shock.”

“No more of a shock than you seeing Warren behind my back,” he retaliated.

She opened her mouth to defend herself and swallowed a retort. Arguing wouldn't help, and she didn't want to say anything in front of their son. Leif had heard far too many of their disagreements already.

“Forget I said that,” Seth murmured, brushing his blond hair away from his face. Despite his words, his mouth was pinched, his expression disapproving.

“All right, I will.”

Her husband exhaled, as though he had difficulty controlling his frustration. “I want you to know I've done some serious thinking about what we should do.”

She dared to raise her eyes, almost afraid to hope Seth would be willing to hear her ideas.

“I love you, Justine,” he said, his eyes meeting hers. “You and Leif mean more to me than anything. I can't risk losing you.”

Justine felt a lump form in her throat.

“I won't destroy our marriage because I'm too stubborn to let go of an idea.”

Justine blinked rapidly to hold back tears. “I love you, too,” she said.

“More than Warren Saget?”

“Yes,” she cried. “A thousand times more!”

Seth pulled out another chair and sat across from her. He reached for her hand. Justine struggled not to cry; she hadn't slept well in days, and she doubted Seth had, either. Lack of sleep had made her emotions more volatile than they already were.

“I think the best thing to do, since we can't agree, is to sell the property. I've contacted a real estate
agent and I've decided—” he hesitated “—if you concur, that is, we'll put the property on the market.”

Justine was sure she hadn't heard him correctly. “You're willing to sell the land?” That wasn't what she wanted, although at one time she'd thought perhaps she did.

He shrugged. “With the way property values have gone up in the last five years,” he continued, “plus what we'll collect from the insurance company, we should be able to walk away debt-free.”

They could pay off everything they owed, but…“In other words, we won't have anything to show for all the work we put into The Lighthouse?” She realized she was stating the very argument he'd made earlier. She saw the discouragement in his eyes and in the tight set of his mouth. She and Seth had taken a risk when they'd opened the restaurant. From the first day they'd opened for business, Seth had been determined to succeed.

He'd worked hard. So had Justine. And yet, after five long years, they had nothing. The fire had wiped them out.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“But…”
Sell the property?
Even now, he didn't want to listen to her ideas. She wouldn't force them on him. “Can I sleep on it?”

He bowed his head. “Of course.” He leaned
forward, not looking at her. “It's just… I've put so much into this.”

What about me?
she thought resentfully. The restaurant had been
their
dream, the project they'd worked on together. Justine felt cast aside, unimportant. Once again, Seth had made her feel as though her contribution and her concerns were of little value.

Her reaction last Friday had been childish, and she regretted seeing Warren. Her willingness to have lunch with him that day had only encouraged him. Every day since, he'd made an excuse to visit the bank. She'd declined his invitations for meals and drinks, but nothing she said seemed to convince him. As he told her repeatedly, he'd achieved the success he had by persisting, and her polite rejections had only made him redouble his efforts. In fact, he'd sent flowers to the bank twice. His attention had become conspicuous—and embarrassing.

Maybe it would be best all the way around if they did sell the property. Justine tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she considered. “You're still enjoying sales?” she asked.

Seth grinned. “I appear to have a knack for it.”

That was true enough; after only a few weeks, Seth was the company's top salesperson.

“Before you make your decision, there's something you should know,” Seth said. “If we list the
property, there's a strong likelihood it'll sell right away.”

“You can't be sure of that.”

“Actually, I am. From what I understand, a fast-food franchise is looking for prime property here in Cedar Cove.”

“But…”

“We'd get full price and the deal can close within the month.”

“The real estate agent told you this?” Justine asked.

Seth nodded.

“Would you have any regrets?” she asked, studying him.

“No,” he said, and he seemed sincere. “Not anymore. I hate the thought of someone selling hamburgers and fries at the waterfront, where our restaurant once stood, but I'd get used to it.”

Seth might, but Justine wondered if she would as easily.

“Let's sleep on it,” she said again. “Both of us.”

Seth put Leif to bed while Justine walked the dog. When she got back, he was still reading stories to their son. Eventually Leif fell asleep in the middle of
Goodnight, Moon,
which both she and Seth could practically recite from memory. Justine took a long soak in the tub, perfuming the water with gardenia-scented bubble bath. Seth's favorite.
Her body was glistening when she finally climbed out of the water.

Seth paused in the bathroom doorway, watching her dress for bed. He gave her a slow, lazy smile. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” he said, his voice husky with suggestion.

Justine smiled. “I certainly hope so.”

It was still light out when they went to bed. Seth reached for her, and Justine turned willingly into his arms. Their lovemaking was full of deep sighs and hoarse whispers.

Afterward Seth held her close. Nestled in her husband's embrace, Justine felt content for the first time in weeks.

“I could get pregnant, you know.” She hadn't bothered to resume her birth control pills—with Seth's agreement. Not that it'd mattered much recently.

“Good.”

She grinned sleepily. “You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“As a matter of fact, I would. It's time.” He kissed the top of her head. “Do you think twins might run in the family?”

Her eyes flew open as she considered the idea. She was a twin. “It's a possibility, I suppose. What makes you ask?”

Seth twined his fingers through her hair. “If you
had two babies, you'd be too busy to give Warren Saget a second's thought.”

“Seth,” she whispered, raising her head to meet his gaze, “don't tell me you're actually jealous.”

He slid his hand down her spine, and she arched her back. “In case you hadn't noticed,” he said. “I'm green with it.”

“There's absolutely no need to feel the slightest bit of jealousy. I promise you that.”

“I'm glad to hear it.”

She kissed his jaw. “If you don't object, I'll give the bank my notice.”

She felt his smile against her temple. “No objection here.”

She loved the feel of his skin against her own. Justine smoothed her hand along his bare shoulders and over his chest. “I didn't think you'd mind.” Suddenly tired, she yawned. “I like falling asleep in your arms,” she murmured. With the long hours Seth had spent at The Lighthouse, there'd been few opportunities for them to go to bed at the same time. And lately—ever since last week—they'd been so angry with each other, they hadn't wanted to.

“I love you,” she whispered, yawning again.

“Sleep,” Seth urged and she did, falling into the soundest, deepest rest since before the fire had laid claim to her security.

Justine woke about five in the morning, feeling
energetic and alert. She tossed aside the covers, got out of bed and quickly donned her robe. Then she hurried to the kitchen and, even before starting a pot of coffee, grabbed a pen and paper. She'd never been good at drawing, but her vision of a tearoom wouldn't leave her alone. She had tried to push it out of her mind, afraid that discussing it would only upset Seth. Now she was determined to make him listen, to demand that he give her idea a fair hearing.

Seth found her standing over the table, sipping coffee. He slipped his arms around her middle and hugged her from behind, pressing his cheek against her back.

“You're awake early.” Working his hands inside her robe, he cupped her breasts.

It was difficult not to get caught up in the sheer sensual nature of his caress. “Seth,” she breathed, even as her nipples hardened in the palms of his hands. “I don't want to list the property until after you listen to me.”

He seemed to stop breathing. “You're still thinking about a tearoom for women?” He removed his hands and stepped away from her. “Justine, we can't keep doing this. We have to make a clear decision and go on with our lives. Isn't that what you've been saying?”

“Yes, but do you honestly want to see a fast-food
joint on the waterfront overlooking the cove?” In her view that would be a terrible misuse of the land.

“All right. Convince me a tearoom would be a success.”

“Here,” she said, shoving the tablet toward him. Her artistic talents were limited, but she'd done a fairly good job of drawing a Victorian structure with one turret and two gables.

Seth glanced down at her sketch and then at her. “It looks like a Victorian house. You want to build a house that serves tea where we once had the restaurant? I don't mean to discourage you, Justine, but I don't think the city would grant a permit for us to put a residence in a commercial zone.”

“It only
looks
like a house, Seth. It's a Victorian Tea Room.”

“A Victorian Tea Room,” he repeated. “That's different from a regular tearoom?”

“Well, maybe not, but that isn't the point. First, we'd only be open for breakfast and lunch, and I'd be home in the evenings. I thought we could add a gift store, too. We'd serve high tea once a month, more often if there's a demand.”

“In Cedar Cove?”

“It would be a special place for women to meet. We could have small receptions there and an outside patio for special occasions and—” She stopped because she was getting ahead of herself. “It
occurred to me that we were wasting all the valuable lessons we learned from The Lighthouse.”

“How so?” he asked, studying her drawing. “For the record, I agree. But I'd like to hear what you think.”

Those words made her smile. “When we were open for lunch and dinner, our working hours were much too long. I wouldn't want a liquor license, either.” Because they'd served evening meals, it was a necessity and where they'd garnered their highest profits.

“I can understand that,” Seth murmured. “I have to admit you've come up with an interesting compromise….”

“With just the two meals, I'd be home in time for dinner with you and Leif.”

“All right,” he said, and seemed to be slowly absorbing her thoughts. “Here's my next question—would I be part of this?”

“Only if you wanted to be. And only to the extent that you wanted to be. The thing is, Seth, you're good at sales. You're happy, and the money so far is great. We wouldn't need to rely solely on the earnings from the tearoom.”

He frowned. “In other words, you want to do this…alone?”

“Absolutely not! I'd need you. Not to work in the restaurant necessarily—unless you felt like it—but
I'll need your counsel and suggestions and input and encouragement. And your love.”

“I can give you all that,” he said. “Gladly.”

“We can do this, Seth, I know we can.”

He set aside his coffee and drew her into his arms. Justine accepted his kiss. This was the perfect solution—for both of them.