THE INVITATION (The Marriage Diaries, Volume 5) (10 page)

“Oh.” He leaned back in his chair, the flicker of surprise she initially saw in his gaze quickly replaced by a schooled expression that masked his emotions. “That was nice of her.”

She heard the placating note to his voice, and didn’t miss the way he deliberately avoided the crux of her statement,
that she’d been offered a job
. She hadn’t interrupted him to make small talk, and her very sharp and intelligent husband knew it, too. He was playing it cool and not jumping to any conclusions. Either that or he was mentally preparing an argument as to why she didn’t
need
to work.

She suspected the latter.

“I’d like to accept her offer,” she said point-blank, so there was no misconstruing what this conversation was about.

“Why?” His brusque tone was underscored with a hint of agitation. “You don’t need to work, and we don’t need the money.”

She nearly rolled her eyes at his predictable response, but caught herself. “This isn’t about
needing
to work, or money. It’s about doing something more with my life now that the boys are grown and gone and I don’t have to take care of them any longer. Quite honestly, I’m bored being at home all day with nothing to do.”

His jaw clenched. “Are you unhappy?”

Of course his mind would go there first, because up to this point in their marriage she’d been perfectly content being a stay at home wife and mother. And she hated that he’d equate her need to work with being dissatisfied emotionally, or with him.

“This decision has nothing to do with you, or being unhappy in our marriage, which I’m
not
,” she said, her words gentle, but her tone remained firm. “You have Noble and Associates, and I’d like to get out of the house during the day, be around people, and do something productive with my time that stimulates me creatively. And this job as Stephanie’s assistant would give me exactly that.”

His entire body had grown stiff, his demeanor tense. “I don’t want you to work.” His reply was succinct and blunt.

“Why not?” She’d never pushed her husband so hard on an issue, but this opportunity was important to her and she wasn’t backing down or giving up.

His gaze darkened to a stormy shade of gray. “You know exactly
why
, Jillian,” he said, an unmistakable thread of anger vibrating in his voice.

Yes, she knew precisely
why
he was so adverse to the idea of her working and she wasn’t going to make him say the reasons out loud. She’d definitely provoked him and stirred up childhood angst and all those resentments toward his own dead-beat, insolent father.

They both knew
why
he felt the strong need to provide financially for his family, to be the kind of father and reliable, dependable, husband his dad had never been. Dean harbored a ton of guilt over his mother’s suicide and blamed himself for not being able to save her from his abusive father and a life of drudgery, and those emotions had driven him to be a better man than his father in every way, and he’d succeeded beyond what most people strive for.

Yet despite what Dean had made of his life and how he’d made his family a priority, those painful memories made it difficult for him let go of the provider/protector mentality he’d embraced their entire marriage.

“I’m not your mother,” she softly, knowing she was treading into very dangerous, emotional territory, but it had to be done. “You’ve always taken care of me, and I know you always will. You’ve given me and the boys a great life, and I’ve loved being able to stay home for them, and you, the past twenty years. But I’m at a point in my life when I want, no
need
, to take this job.”

He immediately shut down, his withdrawal from her, and the conversation, nearly palpable. “Look, I’ve got a ton of things to get done tonight, including this presentation for Corporate Crises Management, before I leave for New York in the morning. If I don’t have a presentation for the client, we don’t get the contract. We’ll talk about it when I get back home.”

He was brushing her off, and she couldn’t deny that his disregard hurt. A lot. “So, what I want or need isn’t a priority right now?”

He sighed heavily, wearily even, as he rubbed his forehead with his fingers. “I didn’t say that. I just don’t have time tonight to have this argument.”

An argument he clearly intended to win. Well, so did she. Which meant they were at a stalemate.

He glanced back down at the paperwork on his desk, a quiet dismissal, and Jillian couldn’t stem the disappointment and frustration coursing through her. They’d come so far in the past few months, emotionally and physically. They’d opened up to one another in ways they never had before, they’d built a fortress of trust she’d believed would carry over into other aspects of their marriage, and this felt like a huge slide backwards.

She stood up and walked to the door, then stopped and turned back around. He didn’t look up at her, but she knew he could hear her, and that’s all that mattered. “I’d really like to have your blessing to do this, but just so the two of us are clear, I don’t
need
your approval to accept the job, Dean. If you don’t learn to compromise and trust
me
, it’s going to cause resentment and anger to build between us.”

It was a harsh statement to a man who liked to be in control of everything, but she didn’t want her husband to think or believe that she’d just roll over and accept his dictate. He might not want her to work, but she’d made her decision and it was up to him to come to terms with this new shift in their marriage.

“A
re you done working for the night?”

Jillian’s soft voice drifted though Dean’s cellphone, making his chest ache as it did every evening when he called home to check in with her. He’d been in New York for the longest, most miserable week of his life, and he missed her. Not just the physical component of being together, but their easy conversations, their flirtatious banter, and her laughter . . . all of that had been sorely lacking since the night she’d walked into his office and turned his perfectly well-ordered life, and everything in it, upside down.

He felt as though the earth had shifted beneath him with her announcement, shaking the very foundation of their relationship in ways he never saw coming. And this newly determined, independent side to Jillian honestly scared the shit out of him.

“Yes, I’m done for the night,” he replied as he ran his finger along the rim of his glass of Scotch, contemplating the idea of just getting fucking drunk so he didn’t have to think about all the doubts and uncertainties eating away at him. “The presentation was approved and the contract signed today. I’ll be heading back home in the morning.”

“That’s great news about the contract,” she said, much too pleasantly, as if he was talking to a stranger rather his wife of twenty years. “Where are you now?”

God, he hated the small talk and the too-polite tone of her voice. But he’d caused this awful tension between them with his negative reaction and his refusal to discuss the job offer with her, and by avoiding the conversation every single night when they talked on the phone. But when he thought about the changes she wanted to make to their marriage, changes that made his stomach churn for various reasons, he just couldn’t bring himself to go there, mentally or emotionally.

He downed the rest of his drink, relishing the burn of liquor down his throat, and answered her. “I just had dinner, and I’m having a drink in the hotel bar before heading up to my room for the evening.”

“I’m glad everything went well with the presentation and client,” she said, yet another amicable reply that hit Dean like a direct punch in the gut.

A strained silence stretched between them, until she finally said, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon when you get home. Travel safe and I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he said, and felt his heart tighten in his chest as the line disconnected, making him all too aware of the emotional and physical distance separating them.

He set his phone on the polished mahogany bar and scrubbed a hand along his jaw. Yep, he was going to get shit-faced drunk so he didn’t have to think about the damage he was doing to his marriage, all because he had deep-seated issues with his wife wanting to
work
.

He motioned to the bartender for another order of Scotch, realizing that he’d normally be pumped up after cinching such a huge contract with a new client and celebrating the coup, but instead he was about to drown his sorrows in premium liquor, along with his growing fears.

It wasn’t easy for him to admit, but Jillian’s parting remark to him a week ago and the underlying ultimatum in her words made him feel completely helpless over the situation, and he absolutely
hated
that loss of control. For him, his wife was disrupting the predictable, stable
status quo
of their marriage, and asserting herself in ways she never had before.

And that’s what scared him the most . . . her newfound independence and fortitude. It had all started a few months ago, when she’d walked into his office to seduce him. That hot sexual confidence of hers was intoxicating in the bedroom and playroom, but he’d never anticipated that those changes in her would integrate into all aspects of their relationship. That she’d become more determined and unwavering in her convictions.

The bartender placed a fresh glass of Macallan in front of him, cleared off the empty one, and headed down to the opposite side of the bar to help another customer, leaving Dean with his turbulent thoughts once again and forcing him to face the realization of just how selfish he was being about his wife’s need to spread her wings and pursue something that would make her happy. Especially when she’d done so much for
him
.

She’d raised their young sons alone while he’d been in the military and training for the SEALS, had run the household smoothly and efficiently over the years, and had been a supportive wife while he’d spent unending hours building his business, never once complaining or nagging him about all the late nights at the office, or all the time he spent away from home. She’d fulfilled all his needs, had giving
him
the stability that he’d always craved as a result of his shitty childhood — not the other way around.

The realization of how one-sided and self-centered he’d been was like a sharp slap in the face and a much needed wake-up call. All week long he’d told himself not wanting Jillian to work was all about taking care of her like a husband should, but when he dug deeper at the truth of the matter, he exposed the part of himself that was afraid that once she focused on a new and exciting career, she wouldn’t need
him
any longer.

And how fucking pathetic was that, he thought, as he swallowed a mouthful of scotch.

There was no doubt in Dean’s mind that if he denied Jillian, he’d only succeed in pushing her away, and driving a deeper wedge of resentment between them, and she’d accept the job, anyway. Ultimately, he wasn’t willing to risk losing her, or permanently damaging the key element of trust in their marriage, and that meant shoving aside his own insecurities and stepping up to the plate to support his wife’s desires. He needed to let her chase her own dreams, and come home to him happy and fulfilled. He owed her that. She
deserved
that freedom and joy — guilt free, even if it was one of the most difficult things he’d ever had to do.

Swallowing his own stupid pride, he picked up his cellphone to call Jillian back, and grovel if necessary. But before he could tap in his passcode to unlock the main screen, he felt someone slide onto the empty barstool beside him, followed by a low, sultry voice asking, “Care to buy a girl a drink?”

Knowing the person was talking to him, he absently glanced her way to gently turn her down, and did a quick double-take at the woman who’d claimed the seat and was turned toward him. Bright emerald green eyes, fringed by ridiculously thick lashes, stared at him expectantly as she waited for him to respond. Platinum blonde, chin length hair with wispy bangs framed her pretty face, and full lips, painted a bright cherry red — his favorite color — smiled at him.

Shocked and speechless, he couldn’t stop his curious gaze from traveling lower, taking in her lipstick red halter-style top that molded to her breasts and provided an eye-catching amount of cleavage. The straps tied together at the nape of her neck, leaving her back completely bare — indicating she wasn’t wearing a bra. The hem of her tight black leather mini-skirt ended mid-thigh, giving him a glimpse of smooth, silky-looking skin he was tempted to touch.

Heated awareness thrummed through him and settled in his groin, and he had to admit it took extreme effort to drag his gaze back up to her face, like a gentleman. But even then, those crimson lips prompted some pretty illicit fantasies that had no business popping into his head. Of that sweet red mouth opening, and that plump bottom lip providing a perfect resting place for his hardening dick.

Laughter and amusement glimmered in her eyes. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”