Tymber Dalton (5 page)

Attentive.

Every novel brought out more of his darker side. While he was never close to approaching violent, she wasn’t happy with his changes. Her request a few weeks earlier to go to marriage counseling elicited a barrage of epithets from him, driving her from the house. When she finally returned hours later, he greeted her at the front door with tears in his eyes, tripping over himself to apologize.

He was always apologizing. Yet he waved off her repeated requests for counseling with a vague “pretty soon” promise.

She studied the wedding band on her left hand, rolling it around with her thumb. When she married Steve, there were more important things to spend money on besides jewelry—like groceries and the light bill. When he hit number one on the
NYT
list, he came home with a gorgeous solitaire. While it dwarfed the plain, gold band, she still cherished the simplicity, the memories her wedding ring represented.

The early days when they laughed all the time, when she felt important to him.

When she felt loved.

Did she still love him?

She honestly wasn’t sure anymore. She loved the man he used to be. If she could pay the price of living a middle-class income to have that man back, she’d gladly embrace it and forgo the high bank balance from his bestsellers.

Hell, she’d live in a tent in the woods with him if it meant she could have the old Steve back.

Without him drinking, of course.

Her mind drifted to the number she’d written in her organizer. The number of the divorce attorney one of her friends had used. Sami hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to call.

Yet.

She still prayed for change even though she knew she was only wasting time by hesitating.

Lost in thought, Sami turned the horses home. Every week brought new arguments with Steve, escalating feuds.

Thank God we don’t have kids.

That stirred up wistful, conflicting feelings. She wanted children. In fact, they’d planned on having some when they could afford it. Now they could afford as many kids as they wanted, but every time she broached the subject, Steve always wanted to talk about it later. Plus, it was hard to have kids when your husband wouldn’t touch you in bed.

After returning to the barn and grooming the horses, Sami mucked out the stalls. That finished, she couldn’t put off returning to the house, where Steve pounded away at his laptop behind his closed study door. He hadn’t taken a day off in weeks despite his burgeoning writer’s block.

She was on her own for the day.

Sami spotted Matt’s number on the Caller ID. After the morning’s events, the sight sent her down memory lane.

This is stupid
.

The answering machine light blinked. She hit
play
. “Hey guys, it’s me. Give me a call when you get a chance, nothing important. Bye.”

Sami touched the rings on her hand again. Matt always called when she needed him most.

He answered on the third ring, and her heart skipped in a way it hadn’t in a long time.

“Hello?”

“It’s Sam.” Steve and others called her “Sami.” To Matt, she’d always been Sam. She closed her eyes and pictured his face. The curve of his lips, the smile in his eyes.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked.

“You called me first.”

“You and Boy Genius feel up to a game of tennis?”

Sami glanced down the hall at Steve’s closed door. “I’d love to get out of here, but I doubt we’ll get his royal highness to leave the confines of his sanctuary.”

“Is everything okay?”

“He threw another tantrum this morning over a box of notes he put in the cellar and forgot. I’m ready to kill him or divorce him. Maybe both at this point. I’m really, really sick of his bullshit.”

Matt’s tone softened. “Why don’t you meet me at the club? Leave him stewing at home. We’ll play for a couple of hours.”

“You’ll kick my ass. You know I can’t play well. God knows you tried to teach me.”

He laughed. “Why do you think I want to play you? I love an easy kill.”

“Two okay?”

“Looking forward to it.”

She hung up and fought back memories, especially not wanting to go there after the bad morning she’d had with Steve. Why did she leave Matt and marry Steve? Oh yeah. At the time, she
really
wanted to get married and have children.

For all the good it did her.

She took a shower and tried to drop thoughts of the past.

“Arrrr-
oooof
!” Sami dove for the ball and missed, almost losing her balance and going headlong into the fence.

“Game!” Matt crowed, trotting over. “Good thing you aren’t a gambling woman.”

“I’d bet on you,” she panted, rubbing a stitch in her side. It wasn’t even close, and she’d quit keeping score after the first set, playing just a way for her to relieve tension. They hadn’t played in months.

Matt still moved as agile as ever. Three inches taller than her five feet eight, and some might say on the stocky side, built fit and solid. Sami couldn’t keep up with him, and she considered herself in good shape even though a few extra pounds had collected over the years in her hips and thighs.

She pulled the ponytail holder from her brown hair and corralled the stray strands that had come loose during their match. Matt patted her shoulder. “Want something to drink? My treat.” His hair had turned prematurely gray, more salt than pepper, but his face looked years younger than forty-three, with playful blue-gray eyes.

“Ought to be, the way you almost killed me.” She reached for her bag when a wave of dizziness swept over her. Matt dropped his racket, steadying her.

“You okay, Sam?”

She held on, meeting his eyes, her heart skipping a beat. “Yeah…yeah, I’m okay.”

He studied her, and she fought the urge to hug him. “You sure, sweetie?”

She finally found the sense of mind to nod. “I’m okay. Just the heat. I need some water.”

He grabbed her bag despite her protests and led her into the snack bar. Once he had her settled at a table in the air-conditioning, he fetched bottles of water.

“So, how’s Boy Genius’s latest masterpiece?” he asked upon his return.

Sami studied the table.

“Sam?” Matt gently touched her hand.

“You’ll have to ask him. I took a peek at the file a couple of days ago. He was in the shower and left the computer up.”

“And?”

She shrugged. “It sucks. You know what pisses me off? He’s blocked, but he won’t talk about it. He used to bounce stuff off me all the time. Now it’s like I don’t even exist unless he needs me for something.” She snorted in aggravation. “Or he wants to yell at me about something.”

“He hasn’t said anything about the book?”

She took another sip. “No. I ask him, ‘How’s the book?’ and he says, ‘Fine.’ That’s it.”

“But it’s not fine?”

Might as well let it all out.
“He thinks he’s hiding it. He never used to be like this, and I hate it. Getting information out of him is like dragging a right-wing Republican into a MoveOn.org meeting.”

Matt studied his water bottle. “Is he drinking again?” he quietly asked.

She looked away. “I hope not.” She rolled the bottle around in her hands and then sighed. “Actually, the sad thing is, part of me hopes he is so I can stick a fork in this marriage and call it done for good.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

She shook her head, not meeting his eyes. “I’m tired of talking.”

They sat in silence for a while. She felt like he wanted to say something. “What is it?”

“Hmm? What?”

She smiled. “I don’t think we ever lost that ESP. What’s on your mind?”

“I really miss that.” He dropped his gaze. “I wanted to ask if you needed any help with the move.”

“What move?”

Matt froze. “Steve didn’t tell you?”

“Matthew Barry, please. Steve didn’t tell me
what?
”

“About the house he rented for you two?”

Sami closed her eyes. “What house?”

Matt reddened, embarrassed. “Uh, the house he rented in Florida for the summer? Outside of Brooksville?”

A Florida native, Sami hadn’t lived there in over ten years. Ohio was home ever since she graduated from Ohio University and took a teaching position before her first novel sold and she could write full-time. Ohio was home. With Steve.

With Matt.

“When did he do this?”

“He told me last week. He didn’t say anything to you about it?”

She leaned back in her chair and fought the urge to scream. “Not a thing. Christ.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have opened my mouth.”

She touched his hand and resisted the urge to hold it. “No, Matt, it’s not your fault. Steve’s been working his way toward an asshole of the year award. I think he finally earned it.”

* * * *

Matt watched her drive off, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. He never should have let her get away in the first place. It had taken every ounce of will in his body not to slug Steve when he broke the news the other day. Steve wanted to take Sam to Florida for the summer.

His
Sam.

He’d assumed the dumb-ass would have told her by now.

How long did he torture himself? Maybe this was for the best. Maybe with Sam in Florida, he could finally get her out of his mind. God knows nothing else had worked over the years. And except in his heart, she wasn’t his anymore anyway.

Maybe it was time for some distance.

But could he handle it?

* * * *

Normally respectful of Steve’s privacy, Sami burst through his study door, flinging it open so hard it slammed against the wall and bounced halfway back. Steve looked up from his laptop, startled.

“Steven Corey, what the hell’s your problem?”

Stunned into momentary silence by her fury, he finally asked, “Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t you honey me, asshole. What’s
wrong?
You’ve been acting like a major prick for the past several months, then you chew me out this morning for something I didn’t do. Now Matt tells me you’ve rented a house in Florida, and you haven’t bothered to tell me! You better explain why I shouldn’t kick your ass out right now.”

He blanched, visibly shaken. “Oh, no! I meant to tell you, honey—I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Well, congratulations, you surprised me. What the
hell
do you think you’re doing? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just go ahead and file for divorce and get it over with? I am sick of this bullshit!”

It wasn’t the first time she’d broached the subject of divorce, but this was the first time he actually seemed to hear her say the word.

He started talking, and it spilled out, the stress, the writer’s block, the anxiety, how he wanted them to get away for a while. When he finished, Sami thought she glimpsed her husband behind the desk, the man she married, apologetic for hurting her yet again.

Sami took a deep breath and walked over to him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap.

“I know I’ve been shitty to you lately,” he said, “and I’m sorry. And I wouldn’t blame you if you did leave me. I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me. I need to get away. I wanted to surprise you for our anniversary. I meant to tell you but…” He waved his hand, indicating the scattered papers on his desk and floor. “I got busy again. I’m sorry. Can I have one more chance? Please?”

She took a deep breath and tried to calm her temper. One more chance.
What could it hurt?
“What about the horses? I can’t leave them, and I won’t board them.”

“That’s what’s so great about this place. Ten acres of land, smack in the middle of a state forest. Fenced, a barn, miles of riding trails, we’ll trailer them down. I’ve thought this out. It’ll be great, a way to spend some time together…”

Sami didn’t really want to go to Florida, but made the plans anyway.

It’s just for the summer. I’ll hold off filing for divorce until after he gets this book turned in. I told him I’d give him one more chance.

She knew it was a cop-out on her part, but despite all the bullshit she’d put up with from him lately, she didn’t want to screw up his progress on the book.

And it would give her time to get her ducks in a row for the divorce. She didn’t want his money. She just wanted a return to a peaceful life.

Who am I kidding? I want to be with Matt.

She resented the fact that she felt taken in by Steve. He wooed her with one personality, then changed once they were married. She couldn’t exactly call him abusive, considering what she’d grown up witnessing, but life was too short to live like this.